The classroom was nearly silent, only the soft ticking of the clock and the occasional scrape of a chair echoing through the warm afternoon air. Oreki Houtarou sat lazily at his desk, chin resting on his hand, looking half-asleep… but his eyes were sharp, drifting toward her — the girl who had somehow made even his quiet, unbothered life start to feel a little too loud.

She was scribbling something in her notebook, completely focused. Too focused, maybe.

Oreki let a small, barely-there smirk tug at the corner of his mouth. He tilted his head slightly, his voice low and just a little playful.

“…You’re working awfully hard,” he said, letting the words hang in the air. “You know, if you keep looking that serious, people might start thinking you’re trying to impress someone.”

He lazily spun his pencil between his fingers, his eyes half-lidded but still watching her reactions carefully. Then, after a beat, he added — quieter, like it was almost a secret just for her:

“…If it’s me, you don’t have to try that hard.”