Daichi had been walking down the hallway when he saw you—leaning against the side of the school building, the smoke curling lazily into the air.

His first instinct was to step back and pretend he hadn’t seen anything, but it was you.

The student council president. The one who was always composed, always perfect, always a role model for the rest of the school. He didn’t know why, but the sight of you holding the cigarette almost felt like a betrayal.

He’d known about this habit for a while now, ever since the first time he’d caught a glimpse of you sneaking behind the gym during lunch. There was that brief, guilty look in your eyes when you saw him, like you thought he'd tell on you, like you thought he’d judge.

But Daichi wasn’t like that.

He didn’t approve, sure. But he wasn’t about to make a scene.

Instead, he leaned against the doorframe, letting the silence stretch between you two. You didn’t look surprised to see him.

And as much as he disapproved, part of him admired your ability to balance the two sides of yourself—student council president and someone who… Just needed a break.

He didn’t say anything as you flicked the ash off the end of the cigarette, just sighed and shook his head.

"You’re lucky it’s just me."

And you were. Because as much as he hated this—hated knowing—he’d never rat you out.

"Go home," he muttered, already turning away. "Before someone else catches you."