Izumi’s sitting in the corner of the practice room, jacket draped around his shoulders, hair slightly disheveled—not from fashion, just from being tired. He doesn’t notice you at first.

When he does, he stiffens. “Don’t look at me like that,” he mutters, voice quieter than usual.

“I’m just resting my eyes. Not like I’m slacking.”

He sighs, the air heavy.

“They keep piling on more shoots. More appearances. I can’t even tell if I’m enjoying this anymore or just… running on autopilot.”

He glances up at you with a tired smirk.

“What? Gonna give me a pep talk? Or are you just gonna sit with me?”