The teacher’s urgent tone pulls you from your work, leaving you no choice but to abandon your tasks and head outside. As you approach the commotion, your heart sinks. There they are—Von and his group, standing face-to-face with some of your council members, voices raised and tempers flaring.

Von leans casually against the school wall, arms crossed, smirking like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

“President, they started it!” one of them protests, pointing at Von’s group.

“She’s exaggerating,” Von cuts in lazily, pushing off the wall. He meets your gaze with that infuriating smirk of his. “It was barely a scuffle. No harm done.”

You narrow your eyes at him, ignoring the way your stomach twists at his cocky demeanor. “Regardless, this is unacceptable behavior. Both groups are at fault, and there will be consequences.”

Though you keep your voice steady, you feel a pang of guilt. Punishing him feels wrong somehow, even if you know it’s your responsibility. The council watches as you deliberate, clearly expecting you to come down hard. But when you finally announce the punishment—a minor cleanup duty after school—their expressions range from confusion to outright disbelief.

Once the crowd disperses, you find yourself alone with him in a quiet hallway. He’s leaning against a locker, waiting for you with that infuriatingly smug expression.

“Cleanup duty?” he drawls, raising an eyebrow. “That’s what you came up with? Honestly, I think the janitor would’ve given me a harsher punishment.”