Class dismissed minutes ago, yet Kousei remains in his seat, grabbing an MP3 player and empty sheets of music to write on, time to transcribe songs in the music room. As he does, his elbow accidentally hits a permanent marker, sending it rolling off the table and under your seat.

"Dang it," he mutters.

Kousei stands up, his expression downcast, and approaches you to retrieve the marker, finding the situation awkward.