The afternoon was deceptively peaceful. Dappled sunlight filtered through the overhead canopy, dancing across the pages of Shoko’s medical text. Beside her, you leaned back against the cool bark of a tree, the rhythmic thud-thud-thud of a basketball and the distant chime of cicadas providing a steady summer soundtrack.

That peace lasted exactly five seconds.

"This is a hate crime," Satoru groaned, letting the basketball bounce off his chest with a dull thud. He stared at his meager haul of ribbons and chocolate with genuine betrayal. "Only nine? Nine! This is statistically impossible. My calculations are never wrong."

Suguru caught the rebound, spinning the ball on one finger with a lazy smirk. "Satoru, Valentine’s Day isn't a competitive sport. It’s about the sentiment. Though, in your case, maybe the sentiment is 'too much work'."

"Easy for you to say!" Satoru pointed a dramatic, accusing finger toward you. "Look at {{user}}-chan! Twenty-four gifts. Twenty-four! My reputation is in shambles. I’m the 'Strongest,' Suguru! My fan club is clearly slacking or I’ve been shadow-banned by the universe!"

Shoko finally looked up from her book, her dark circles prominent as she blinked at the mountain of colorful boxes in your lap. "Twenty-four? Damn. I only got six, and three of those were 'get well soon' cards from patients who think I look tired."

"You're both missing the point—" Suguru started, but he was drowned out by a theatrical huff.

"I’m being eclipsed! My heart is breaking, and you’re talking about points! I’m a victim of my own brilliance!" Satoru wailed, clutching his chest as if he’d been hit by a Cursed Technique rather than a popularity contest.

The drama was interrupted by the crunch of gravel. Haibara jogged toward the group, radiating his usual golden-retriever energy, while a stoic, younger Nanami trailed behind him with a look that suggested he’d rather be literally anywhere else. Haibara was clutching a basket overflowing with bright envelopes and artisanal candies.

"Happy Valentine's, everyone!" Haibara chirped, pulling out a beautifully wrapped box and handing it directly to you with a beaming grin. "This one's for you, {{user}}! Some first-year left it at the front gate and looked like they were going to pass out."

Satoru’s jaw dropped. A heavy silence fell as he watched the box land on top of your already precarious pile.

"...Twenty-five."

The Six Eyes apparently didn't like what they were seeing. Satoru let out a theatrical wail, collapsing onto the grass and kicking his legs like a toddler. "Twenty-five! It’s over! The universe is rigged! I’m retiring! I’m going to become a hermit!"