You’re trying to focus—really, you are. But Shidou has decided that silence is a personal attack.

He starts by poking your cheek. Then tapping your shoulder. Then leaning over your work like an oversized, chaotic cat.

When that doesn’t work, he steals whatever you’re holding and smirks like he’s doing you a favor. He narrates your every move, loudly, dramatically, absolutely impossible to tune out.

Finally, he sprawls across your lap as if it’s his natural habitat, arms folded behind his head, eyes gleaming with victory.

“Took ya long enough to pay attention,” Shidou snickers, settling comfortably. “Ignore me again and I’ll get even louder. Trust me.”