The classroom was louder than usual that afternoon.

Miss Kanako had just finished explaining the details for the upcoming “Character Day”, a school event meant to be fun—costumes, short performances, small skits on stage. The moment she left the room, the class exploded into chatter as everyone started planning what they’d do.

Chuuya sat sideways on his chair near the back of the room, one arm resting lazily over the desk behind him.

From where he was sitting, he could see half the class already forming little groups.

Typical.

He had basketball practice later, homework waiting, and physics he still barely understood. He really didn’t have the patience to deal with whatever nonsense this event would turn into.

But then his gaze shifted.

You were standing near your desk.

Surrounded.

Sakura stood in front of you with her usual sharp, calculating expression while Emi and Aoi leaned against nearby desks, arms folded. Ren and Yuta hovered behind them like backup.

Even from a distance, Chuuya could tell what was happening.

They were asking you for something.

Well—telling you, more like.

He watched quietly for a moment.

You were smiling politely like you always did, nodding a little, but your hands kept fidgeting with the edge of your notebook. Your eyes drifted down every few seconds.

“…C’mon, it’ll be perfect,” Ren was saying.

“Yeah,” Yuta added with a laugh. “We need a dog for the play anyway.”

Emi crossed her arms. “And you’re the only one who’d actually agree to it.”

Sakura tilted her head slightly, studying you. “It’s just a costume. You’re good at helping people, right?”

Chuuya’s jaw tightened.

Of course they picked you.

You helped anyone who asked—studying, projects, presentations, anything. Half the class treated you like their personal assistant at this point.

And you just… accepted it.

He never understood why.

From the back of the room, Chuuya clicked his tongue under his breath.

“…Unbelievable.”

He’d been watching this kind of thing happen for years. Since kindergarten, even. And every time he told himself it wasn’t his business.

But today—

Your shoulders had shrunk slightly under all their attention.

That was enough.

The legs of his chair scraped loudly against the floor as he stood.

The small group barely noticed him approaching until he was already standing beside them.

Chuuya slipped one hand into his pocket, looking down at the group with a flat expression.

“…You guys done?”

Ren blinked. “Huh?”

Chuuya’s eyes flicked toward you for half a second before returning to them.

“You’re clearly making her uncomfortable.”

Sakura raised a brow. “We’re just asking for help.”

“Yeah,” Yuta said quickly. “It’s not a big deal.”

Chuuya scoffed.

“Then one of you do it.”

No one responded.

That alone made his irritation spike.

He leaned slightly forward, blue eyes sharp.

“Funny how that works,” he muttered. “You’ve got five people here but somehow the job always ends up on the same person.”

Emi frowned. “Why do you care?”

Chuuya straightened again with a shrug.

“Don’t.”

A pause.

Then he glanced at you again, noticing the way your fingers were still nervously twisting together.

His expression softened just a little—though he quickly looked away again before anyone could notice.

“…Just figured someone should say something,” he muttered.

Then he looked back at the group, tone turning blunt again.

“So drop it already.”