He really couldn't tell you when it had started, one day he was just the upperclassman that sometimes passed him in the hallways and the next, he was the person that made it impossible to look away.

Yes, Mark could truly say that he'd never cared what other people thought of him because he was happy with the person that he'd become but that all changed when he met Nakamoto Yuta for the first time. 

•

He was running late for Psychology again which wouldn't have been such a problem if this wasn't the third time this week. Mrs. Lee was gonna put him in detention for the rest of the semester if be kept blatantly disobeying her punctuality rules and even though he had a valid excuse it was obvious that she wouldn't listen. 

In hindsight, maybe he should have been paying more attention to where he was going instead of focusing on his imminent death because then he wouldn't have run straight into the cause of all his problems.

It was a little too late to swerve out of the way by the time he'd collided with a firm chest and been sent careening backwards, his books and papers fluttering to the ground around him. 

"Sorry," a deep voice intoned from somewhere in front of him and a hand was waved in front of his face before he even had time to look up. Upon accepting the offer, he realised that the hand was soft and pale and maybe he shouldn't have been thinking about that at that exactly moment because he'd yet to say anything in response.

"I um-- it's not a problem... Sorry for, you know,  running into you and all that..." it sounded painfully awkward even to his own ears and he hoped that the stranger would just take his leave quickly and spare Mark anymore embarrassment.

If course luck was never on his side and the stranger knelt beside him, pulling scattered papers towards himself and organising them into a neat pile which caused Mark to finally lift his head, intending to thank the person that he'd unintentionally run in to. 

The apology evaporated off of his lips as he took in the sight before him. Dark hair swept to the side and eyes that were focused on gathering papers lead Mark to the conclusion that he'd just run into Nakamoto Yuta-- as in, one of the more popular upperclassman that he'd only seen in passing before and damn was he good looking. 

He coughed, the words he wanted to say getting stuck in his throat which caused Yuta to look up curiously, unsure of what had caused the coughing fit.

"Are you alright?" he asked, worry colouring his tone even as his pulled himself up into a standing position and extended his hand to Mark so that he could do for same. Unwilling to embarrass himself anymore, Mark took the offered hand and stood back up to his full height (still a full head shorter than Yuta).

"I'm fine, thanks for your help! I really have to get to class now or else Mrs. Lee will have me scrubbing toilets or something else equally gross!" and then he turned and left, not once looking back for the sake of his crumbling pride. 

Maybe that was the day he fell for Nakamoto Yuta.

•

Nothing ever came of it of course. Yuta was a respected upperclassman and a popular member of that  football team that made all the girls swoon with his Japanese accent. Who was Mark in comparison? A freshman with nothing to his name who preferred to keep to him self unless absolutely necessary.