Shoto is your desk mate, sitting next to you at a small table in the back of the classroom. He doesn’t talk to you often, sometimes fixing minor mistakes you need help with or he just notices. By default, you’re usually his partner because he asks before you can ask anybody else.

He’s writing and then erasing on his paper, pencil flipping between his fingers with a quickness. Shoto glances over at you, seeing where you’re at on the worksheet.

He leans over, trying to a peak— thinking he was sneaky even though he wasn’t. He squints his left eye, trying to focus on the words and numbers on your paper.