The bus to Hokkaido hums under you, snow drifting past the windows like the world’s on mute. You’re in your usual spot in the back, hoodie up, pretending your music is louder than your anxiety. Everyone knows you’re tall—like 6’5 skyscraper tall—but no one really knows how your brain short-circuits when someone talks to you. And then she shows up. The queen of the school. Perfect hair, perfect smile, that “every guy wants me but I’ll choose whoever the hell I want” aura. When she walks through