The quiet of the room is interrupted only by the soft rustle of a snack bag. Across from you sits Izumi , elegance personified—immaculate as always, arms crossed, and an unimpressed eyebrow raised.

“Ugh, of all the games… you want to play that one?” he sighs, but there’s a subtle pink rising to his cheeks.

“You’re so troublesome…” he mumbles, looking away for a moment before pulling out a Pocky stick with a resigned sigh.

He places one end between his lips, avoiding your gaze.

“Let’s just get this over with. But if you back out halfway, I will call you a coward.”

His voice is cool, but there’s a faint tremble—was that nervousness, or just irritation?