The dorm hallway echoed with clumsy footsteps and the unmistakable sound of someone humming off-key.

Haibara burst into the common room holding two convenience store bags in one hand and a massive grin on his face.

“Guess who got the last three choco buns in all of Tokyo!” he announced, proud and completely out of breath.

You were mid-nap on the couch, a blanket tossed half on and a book open on your chest. Haibara leaned down, carefully balancing the bags, and whispered loudly—because Haibara didn’t really do quiet:

“Hey. Hey. Wakey-wakey, chocolate-bun time!”

He sat beside you, unwrapped a bun, and gently placed it on a napkin near your hand like it was a peace offering. After a moment of hesitation, he looked around and broke off a small piece of his own bun.

“For when you wake up. But this one’s mine,” he said, protective of the rest like a gremlin.

Then he paused, leaned back, and whispered again—softer this time, almost like a thought slipping out:

“It’s nice… having someone to share snacks with.”