Xavier noticed before anyone else did.
Hinata's smile didn't reach her eyes anymore. The way she laughed felt practiced, like she was hitting cues instead of feeling the moment. When Aiden and Amira passed by, she always looked away too late.
He didn't ask her about it.
Xavier wasn't the kind of person who stepped into someone's pain without being invited.
But that didn't mean he didn't see it.
He saw the way she leaned on Calvin more these days—not weakly, but carefully, like someone testing if the ground would hold. He saw how Calvin stayed close without hovering, how he listened more than he spoke. Xavier respected that.
That evening, Xavier found himself on the rooftop, hands in his pockets, watching the sky dim into blue. He'd come there without thinking. Maybe because he knew Hinata liked quiet places. Maybe because silence made things clearer.
He heard footsteps.
Not hers.
Calvin stepped out, phone in hand, expression tired but gentle. He didn't seem surprised to see Xavier.
"She's okay," Calvin said after a moment. "She just needed to let it out."
Xavier nodded once. "Good."
That was all he said—but it meant more than it sounded.
Calvin studied him. "You care."
Xavier didn't deny it. "I don't want to make it harder for her."
"Then don't rush," Calvin replied. "She needs time. Not saving."
Xavier exhaled slowly. "I know."
Later that night, Xavier sat at his desk, staring at a message he hadn't sent.
If you ever want to talk, I'll listen.
He deleted it.
Some things were better shown than said.
The next day at school, he didn't act differently. He didn't hover. He didn't ask questions. He just walked beside Hinata down the hallway, matching her pace without comment.
At one point, she glanced at him.
"…thanks," she said quietly. Not for anything specific. Just—everything.
He met her gaze. "Anytime."
It wasn't a confession.
It wasn't even hope.
But it was presence.
And for now, that was exactly what she needed.