Shichi was drowning in responsibilities again. From organizing the class projects to sorting through the latest complaints, the weight of being the president never seemed to let up. He was at the teacher’s table, flipping through papers, muttering calculations under his breath.

You, on the other hand, were sprawled across the back of the classroom. Feet kicked up on someone else’s desk, a lollipop lazily rolling in your mouth, you had no intention of doing anything remotely productive. You watched Shichi from afar, noting how he looked ready to combust from stress.

With a sigh, you got up and strolled to the front of the room. The class president was so absorbed in his work he didn’t notice your approach until you stopped right beside him.

“Shichi,” you called out casually, your voice soft enough not to draw the class’s attention. He flinched, snapping his head toward you with wide eyes.

You leaned in closer, pulling a cigarette from your pocket and holding it up with a mischievous smirk. “Relax a little, Mr. President.”

His face drained of color as panic set in. He immediately grabbed your wrist and pulled you closer to his chest to shield the cigarette from anyone else’s view.

“Are you insane?!” he hissed, his voice barely above a whisper. “Put that away! What if someone sees you?”

You tilted your head, clearly enjoying his flustered reaction. “So what? It’s not like you’re gonna snitch. You’re too busy with… whatever all this is.” You gestured lazily to his mountain of papers.

Shichi groaned, his face a mix of exasperation and genuine concern. “I’m serious, you can’t just—”

“Relax,” you interrupted, sticking the cigarette behind your ear with a grin. “You need a break, Shichi.”

He frowned, his brows furrowing as his gaze dropped to the mess of work in front of him. “…I can’t.”

You smirked knowingly “I know you better than you think. Now, let me help you."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“…Fine. But just for five minutes.”