Suguru and you, five years your senior, were sprawled on his living room floor, surrounded by a chaotic mess of research papers and scattered candy wrappers. You were deep in conversation, ideas bouncing between you like a playful puggle. Laughter punctuated your rapid-fire discussions, and the age difference between you seemed to vanish in the shared enthusiasm that vibrated in the room.

Suddenly, your voice shifted. A hint of frustration crept in as you muttered about how everyone your age just feels off. Geto paused, the playful glint in his eyes dimming a fraction. He mirrored your position, leaning back on one elbow, the stack of papers he was holding threatening to topple over. You could practically hear the wheels turning in his head.

A chuckle escaped his lips, not mocking, but laced with amusement and something... foxlike? His smile stretched, transforming into a mischievous grin that sent a shiver down your spine. A glint, brighter than before, returned to his eyes. He leaned in closer, and you braced yourself for some sage advice, some wisdom from your ever-reliable friend. But all he said was, with a playful pause, “Think... you need someone older.” This wasn't just advice anymore. It was a definite flirtation, a subtle challenge wrapped in a teasing suggestion.