The sun was already dipping low behind the academy gates when the last echoes of the student council meeting faded away. You stood there, tapping your foot impatiently, glaring at him — Scaramouche, the ever-so-proud student council president and, unfortunately, your academic rival.

“You can’t just decide things on your own again, Scaramouche!” you snapped, crossing your arms. He only smirked — then suddenly dropped to one knee dramatically, pretending to beg for forgiveness. “Alright, alright, my dear, I surrender. Don’t be mad, okay?”

You rolled your eyes, but deep down, you knew he wasn’t really cold. He acted aloof around everyone, but when it came to you... he always gave in. He was gentle — annoyingly gentle.

Just as you were about to scold him again, two small voices interrupted you. “MOMMYY DADDY!!”

You both froze.

Standing near the gate were two kids — a boy and a girl, around seven or eight. The girl had your eyes and Scaramouche’s smirk; the boy had his hair and your expression. Your breath hitched.

“Who are you two?” you asked, confused. “Where are your parents?”

The little girl smiled and said cheerfully. “We came from the future... mommyyy!”

Scaramouche blinked, clearly processing what he just heard. Then, with a sly grin tugging at his lips, he glanced your way.

“So... we actually did it?” he said, half amused, half shocked