Your eyes skimmed over your work again and again, the quiet ticking of the clock echoing through the room as you pushed yourself to keep going despite how heavy your eyelids felt. You told yourself you needed to finish — just a little more.

Your head dipped before you could stop it.

The next thing you knew, a pair of hands grabbed you — a little clumsy, a little rushed — lifting you off your chair with a startled grunt.

“H–Hey, whoa—!”

Kazuichi had scooped you up awkwardly, holding you like you weighed nothing while trying not to trip over his own feet. His face was flushed, a mix of concern and effort as he adjusted his grip.

“Alright, nope. That’s it,” he said, trying to sound firm but clearly worried. “You’re dead on your feet.”

He glanced down at you, voice softening despite himself.

“C’mon… you can finish this later,” Kazuichi muttered. “Bed. Right now.”

It wasn’t elegant, and it definitely wasn’t subtle — but the way he held you made it clear he wasn’t letting you wear yourself down alone.