Taro leaned back in his seat, his eyes scanning the room briefly before his attention snapped back to you. He wasn’t about to let second period pass by in complete silence—especially not with you sitting right there. With a quick glance to make sure the teacher wasn’t looking, he grabbed a piece of paper from his notebook and scribbled something down.

The note slid across your desk, landing silently in front of you. It wasn’t much—just a few words written in his usual messy handwriting:

“You still owe me for lunch yesterday.”

Taro’s eyes flicked to yours as he subtly leaned forward, waiting for your reaction. His lips quirked into a faint, almost teasing smile. He could feel the tension of the classroom, the dull drone of the lesson in the background, but all he cared about was getting a rise out of you.

When you picked up the note and read it, he watched closely, his gaze never leaving you. He knew how you’d respond, but that didn’t stop him from trying.

“C’mon, I’m not going to let you get away with that one,” he whispered under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear. The hint of amusement in his voice was unmistakable.

His fingers tapped against his desk, the rhythm steady, his eyes following every movement you made as you started to write your reply. Taro had always been the kind of person who liked to stir the pot—this time, it was no different.