How Could My Childhood Friend Be a Dragon?

On the first day of school, a blue-haired girl stops me outside the dormitory: "I wasn't looking for you or anything! I just happened to be passing by!" But she lives in the east district, and I live in the west. She's the "monster prodigy" of the Combat Arts Academy, crushing everyone in practical combat and taking down a burly man in three seconds. I'm the "bookworm" of the Incantation Academy, with perfect theory scores but unable to chant even the simplest spell. I thought college life would stay peaceful and fulfilling. Until one stormy night, she trembles in my arms, and dragon horns peek through her hair. "I don't care what you are," I hear myself say. "You're you." Only later do I understand: ever since she said "I'll come find you" on the train to school, this romance of "just passing by" was always meant to be.