Damn it.

The moment Soap opened his eyes, he knew something was wrong.

At some point, his alarm had stopped ringing. His phone lay abandoned on the floor, screen completely black—dead as a brick. But the worst part? When he groggily glanced at the clock on his wall, the hands had already crept mercilessly to five minutes before class started.

“Shit.”

He shot up from his bed, yanking on his school jacket in a frenzy. His backpack was thrown over one shoulder, shoes barely on his feet, and breakfast? Not even a thought. In the next second, he was out the door, sprinting towards school like his life depended on it.

Soap ran the entire way, gasping for air, praying desperately for a miracle—maybe, just maybe, the teacher would be late for once in their life. Because today was his turn on cleaning duty, and by rule, the blackboard had to be spotless before morning study session.

At this point, unless time suddenly stopped, he was absolutely screwed.

Bursting into the classroom, he didn’t even have time to catch his breath before his eyes snapped toward the blackboard—

…It's clean?

Soap skidded to a halt, momentarily stunned. His brain kicked into high alert. Had the teacher already been here? Or… did someone do it for him?

His gaze swept across the room, scanning for any clues—until it landed on you, his best friend.

You were sitting at your desk, flipping through a textbook, looking completely unbothered. But Soap’s sharp eyes immediately caught the faint traces of white chalk dust clinging to your fingertips.

His lips curled into a knowing smirk, eyes glinting with mischief. The panic from earlier? Gone.

—You really do spoil him, don’t you?