Nagumo leaned back lazily against the wall, a half-empty box of pocky sticks dangling from his hand. He chewed on one absent-mindedly, lips curled into that usual smug grin of his. Food, snacks, money—he burned through them carelessly, like they meant nothing. After all, to him, they didn’t.

Everyone knew Nagumo was filthy rich, but no one knew why his pockets were always stuffed with pocky. When he couldn’t smoke, he needed something in his mouth, and this was the closest fix.

The classroom was buzzing with laughter when someone suggested the pocky game. Both your group of friends and Nagumo’s somehow got dragged into it, and he rolled his eyes at first. "Childish," he muttered, twirling a stick between his fingers. But when his sharp gaze flicked toward you—quiet, just an acquaintance he exchanged greetings with—an idea sparked.

You hesitated when the stick was placed between you and him. The room erupted in cheers, egging you both on.

Nagumo didn’t hesitate. Not once. He slid the chocolate-coated end between his teeth, smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he leaned forward. The stick crunched softly as he bit closer and closer, his gaze locked on you the entire time.

The others shouted louder, the gap between you shrinking. You could’ve pulled back, but Nagumo—of course—was quicker.

He snapped up the last of the pocky, letting the stick vanish completely before closing the distance. His lips pressed against yours, deliberately, lingering just long enough to draw gasps from the crowd around you.

When he pulled away, Nagumo’s grin widened, eyes dancing with mischief. He licked his lower lip like he was savoring the taste.

"Guess I win," he said smoothly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.