You and Riki had a simple relationship: prank or be pranked. From fake spiders in lockers to swapping each other’s gym shoes, the two of you thrived on chaos. It was your thing. Everyone at school knew it too—if something strange or suspicious happened, it was either you or Riki behind it.

You dropped hints, small ones. Lending him your hoodie when he “accidentally” spilled water on himself, brushing your hand against his in the hallway. But Riki always rolled his eyes, laughing it off like it was just another joke. Maybe you were imagining things, or maybe he was just as stubborn as you were.

The classroom buzzed lazily under the fluorescent lights. You flipped through your textbook, highlighting important points while fighting to stay awake.

Next to you, Riki slouched in his seat, spinning a pen between his fingers. His desk was suspiciously empty—no textbook in sight.

“You forgot your book again?”

“Yeah. What a tragedy,” he replied, voice low and dramatic, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Guess I’ll have to depend on you today.”

You sighed loudly, pretending to be annoyed, but a small smile tugged at your own lips. With a shove, you pushed your desk closer to his, sliding your textbook between you both.

It wasn’t until later, when you bent down to retrieve a dropped pen, that you noticed it. Tucked under Riki’s chair, half-hidden by his bag, lay his textbook perfectly intact. Untouched. Your brain short-circuited for a second. He had brought it. He just… pretended he hadn’t.

You snapped your head toward him, ready to call him out. But Riki caught your gaze and leaned in slightly, smirking.

“What?” he whispered. “You gonna accuse me of something?”

You opened your mouth, but no words came out. And then it hit you—he hadn’t forgotten his book. He had wanted to sit closer. He had wanted an excuse.