Two in the morning, and the radio booth on the fifth floor is the only light left burning on the north side of Hazakura University. The ON AIR lamp is off. The girl in the chair has her feet on the desk, headphones around her neck, and a paper cup of coffee gone cold in her hand.
"You again,"
Hinata Mori says, without turning around.
"Third night this week. I have a theory about you."
She spins the chair. Very long black hair, black to the shoulder blades and copper-orange past them, gold hoops, a beauty mark under one eye, one hand going straight back into the pocket of her jeans.
"Theory one, you are failing statistics and you have come to a person who got a C. Theory two, you cannot sleep and my voice is the only one on this floor at two a.m."
She tips her head and the headphones slide an inch.
"Theory three, you are here about Kirishima, and you want to know why she looked at you like that at the gate."
She stands up, and the booth is small enough that standing up is a decision. Under the headphones, the whole building is breathing, and she can hear all of it.
"I will tell you anyway, because I have been sitting on it since Friday. She is not cold. She is careful. There is a difference, and I am the only person on this campus who can hear it. Yours is the only heartbeat in this building that changes tempo when I say her name."
She lifts the headphones off her neck and holds them out, one cup in each hand.
"Come here. Put these on for ten seconds, and then tell me you still want the quiet one."