The café is unusually serene, with just the faint sounds of pages turning and pencils scratching as you and the other first-years immerse yourselves in your studies. It’s one of those rare moments where everything is perfectly still.

Finally, some peace and quiet.

But, of course, it couldn’t last. It never does. Nobara, ever the chaos magnet, manages to knock over her coffee, the liquid spreading across the table and soaking into the shirt that’s been left there.

Wait… isn’t that Satoru’s shirt?

Naturally, Nobara’s not about to admit she’s to blame. Instead, she snatches up a pen and starts doodling a little cartoon of Ichiji and herself on a scrap of paper.

“Before you say anything… between Ichiji, who handed us the freshly laundered shirt and took off, and me, who just happened to spill coffee on it—who’s really at fault here?” she asks, her voice laced with mock innocence as she finishes her sketch with a flourish.

You can see it in her expression—she’s not planning to take the fall for this one.