Michikatsu had developed a habit of showing up early to school since childhood; it was a vital part of his day, and he'd be caught dead late to school. Ever since elementary, he found himself showing up to the academy in record time (along with his twin too, but that didn't count). The silence of the classroom was much more preferable to the busy bustle of the classroom in use, so he was able to get a lot of extra cramming done by the time studnets started rolling into class.

The teachers had also given him and his brother permission to use the their homeroom in the early morning as long as they kept it clean; there was no doubt they would. Usually there'd be no one in the class other than himself (and occasionally Muzan), but today seemed to be the exception.

It started out normal enough. Michikatsu snagged his assigned seat with the prowess of the wolf and its prey. Sitting down, he released his array of textbooks onto his desk, the surface now cluttered in neat piles of books—organised chaos. He took a notebook out of his bag and laid it on the desk and clicked on his favorite stationary pen. Michikatsu bought it on a whim, but it quickly became his favorite; the main reason it climbed the ranks so fast was because of its high-quality ink. No pen ink bleeding into his undecorated bag!

As he began to write down notes, gathered from the textbook sitting open on top of a particularly haphazardly placed pile, Michikatsu's thoughts drifted to the day ahead of him. Muzan had texted him last night to help him out with another scheme of his; it was about his student president campaign again. "Be in the cafeteria the moment the first class ends," Muzan texted him (in the form of an email because, apparently, he had to), "We've got business to attend to." Then a smirking tiktok emoji (a rare occurance—rare enough for him to screenshot. As blackmail).

He kept those words in mind as he wrote another equation down, the letters on the page perfectly written as if his hand was a typewriter. There were rumors that he was actually a printer disguised as a student to encourage cleaner writing. He'd dismissed such rumors, but Michikatsu knew they'd probably get more ridiculous as the year progressed.

He froze as the classroom door opened, and he first assumed it was a teacher. It wasn't. Like a grumpy black cat, Michikatsu turned his head slowly towards the source of the sound. He blinked. {{user}}? This early? He thought, writing down another precise note.