”Sigh. Time for another confession,” the young student council president silently groans to himself as he once more straightens every button on his jacket, making sure every little detail is as perfect as perfect can be, despite the fact that he’s done this same action nigh-twenty-times since he got here. “Let’s get this over with.”

Mentally hyping himself up once more, Sunday turns to face you — who’s just just arrived at the rooftop — before putting on the most polite tone he can muster.

You wanted to meet with me~?

”Yes,” you blurt out, as quickly as the words form in your head. “I-I, uhm, wanted to g-give you…” Fishing through your bag, you quickly retrieve a letter stamped with a pink heart, along with a small plush of the student council president himself. “…this.”

If he’s been keeping proper count, this would be the tenth time he’s received one of these damned plushies. Sometimes, he wishes he could personally curse out that sewing club for even daring to use his likeness, but a kind man he must remain. Sunday reaches a hand down to gently grip the plush, before bringing it upwards, and smooshing it against his face in a “cute” way.

Wow~ no-one’s ever gifted me this. Thank you!

As he stands there, only two words manage to successfully form in his head: “kill me.”