"All hail ice cream."

Daichi laughed at my exclaim, slipping into the empty seat across from me and sliding me the hot fudge sundae I'd asked him for.

I literally drooled at the sight of the oozing chocolate, wafting an incredible scent from the perfectly looped vanilla ice cream. All at once, I felt nothing but sentimental.

"It's so beautiful," I gushed. "How can I eat this? I can't."

He feigned a look of pain. "You better eat it. This poor high school student wasted the last of their allowance money on you."

"And I humbly accept your apology, you jerk."

I flashed him a cheeky smile, picking up the spoon and digging into it. After the first bite I breathed out in utmost bliss before continuing to stuff my face with the amazing treat.

It was midway through the sundae that I noticed Daichi watching me. I peered away from the glass and onto him, absolutely puzzled.

"Vhy are you vatching me?" I spoke with the spoon still in my mouth.

He shrugged. I scanned the table, taking in his side where no form of ice cream lay in front of him whatsoever. Withdrawing the spoon from my mouth, I gave him a look.

"Why aren't you eating ice cream?"

"I'm broke."

I frowned at his answer. "You wasted all your money on mine?"

He avoided my gaze for a split second. "Uh..."

I glared at him, putting down my cutlery and fishing into my wallet. I slid him two 100 yen coins. "There, go buy yourself."

He timidly pushed it back. "No, it's all right. I seriously don't need."

"Yes, you do. Now go buy yourself."

"But—"

"Fine." I plucked the money right out of his hand, rising to my feet. "I'll buy you myself. Is vanilla good with you?"

Without waiting for his response, I started towards the stand. Before I could get close to the counter, however, Daichi intercepted me.

"No!" he said, holding out his arms. "Don't buy me."

I narrowed my eyes. "Why?"

"Because—"

I didn't wait to listen.

"It's seriously okay with me. I'm not penniless. Just let me buy you. You don't need to take this whole "let me repay you" thing seriously."

Daichi shook his head, gripping me by the shoulders and steering me back into my seat.

"Sugiyama?" I asked.

I glanced upwards just in time to hear him say, "I'm lactose-intolerant."

My mouth clamped together and my eyes bulged.

"What?" I said.

He fell into the seat across from me again, weakly smiling. "I can't digest dairy products properly."

"Oh..."

I awkwardly looked down at my sundae. He can't eat ice cream? Or, he could, but it made him feel sick afterwards. My heart sunk in my chest as I lowered my spoon. As much as it hurt, I couldn't be insensitive and eat this anymore. At least, not with him here.

Darn it. This was ice cream and Reina cruelty.

"No, you don't have to stop eating," he immediately said. "It's okay."

I stared at him, extending my bottom lip. "Are you sure?"

He bobbed his head with a small chuckle. "Positive. You're enjoying it enough for the both of us. That makes me happy."

I picked up the spoon with a grateful grin. Yes! We can be together again, oh ice cream!

Resting his chin on his palm, Daichi's amusement grew as a tiny giggle ripped from my mouth.

"You're the best, Sugiyama."

"And you're surprisingly simple, Kikuchi."

My joy evaporating, I sent him the flattest look possible. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing cynical," he reassured me. "I've just never seen you get so happy before. Much less smile and laugh so freely."

"Our school is the problem," I excused after a pause.

He frowned. "I know Akelius Academy has a bunch of problems but that doesn't mean you shouldn't enjoy yourself."

Scooping another spoonful of ice cream into my mouth, I murmured, "Who says I'm not enjoying myself?"

"You are?"

"No, I'm not."

Daichi's expression told me he didn't favour my response at all. Sighing, I sunk into my seat.

"Look, I'd rather not talk about that hell on our precious day off."

Daichi didn't appear too happy with the suggestion (or maybe it was the way I said it?) but he shrugged anyway.

"Fine," he said, readjusting his glasses. "So..."

Quiet elapsed, one extremely painstaking because neither of us knew how to break it.

Then, without warning, he lit up. "Oh, what did you get on that project we did?"

I made a face, wiping my mouth with a napkin. I'd already finished my ice cream. "Uh, decent."

"Just decent?"

"Why are you pretending not to know my score? You're the one who brought it to me."

He gasped as if I'd said the impossible to offend him. "That doesn't mean I'd look at it," he insisted. "Marks are a private thing only the individual has the right of knowing."

"Somehow I completely forgot that I'm talking to a class president here."

He hooked his thumb his way without a regard to my sarcasm and smiled broadly. "Yup, that's me."

"Why are you the class president anyways?" I inquired with a snort.

He tapped his chin. "Hmm... I guess it's because I liked the idea of being at the top of the class."

I arched a brow. "Something like that is appealing to you?"

"Oh, totally," he answered. "Have you seen our school hierarchy? Holding a position of power makes it easier to breathe there— hold up your head, so to speak."

I guess I never thought about it that way. As I'd done my absolute all to avoid stepping on people's toes for the two years I'd been attending, sticking around after school, or needlessly standing out, had been the last things on my list. The status of 'Class President' was possible for any student. Considering nearly seventy percent of the student body were delinquents too uninterested to even show up to class, it was an easy role to clinch. But finding those who would readily take on the role was rare.

True, I hadn't heard of any teachers or Class Presidents being the prime target for bullying. Despite having quite a dangerous job, Dad healthily living now was proof of that. Delinquents cowered before higher powers like clockwork. I should've anticipated the same would go for authority figures outside of their well-knit circles, even though imagining delinquents giving a crap about someone like a class president was comical.

Maybe with such a title, you were more than just a no-name student too afraid to go about their daily lives that you could feel confident enough to attend school.

"Besides," Daichi went on, "Class Presidents have a bunch of privileges."

"Responsibilities, too."

He laughed. "But that's to be expected. They're not as bad as you might think, though."

I pursed my lips. "That's hard to believe."

Daichi chuckled once more. I couldn't quite figure out why. I wasn't trying to be funny.

"Oh, but speaking of Class Presidents," he said out of nowhere.

The way he was staring at me made me blink. "What?"

His smile grew. "Yesterday, the vice president of the Student Council and the class president of Class 2–3... How do you know them?"

I tensed at the question and slowly twirled the spoon in the empty cup. "Um, it's kind of complicated. It'd take a while to explain."

"I can be here all day."

Stunned, I jerked forward to see Daichi getting comfortable, appearing absolutely interested in me.

Somehow, seeing this made me crack a smile. "Usually when somebody says that they don't want to elaborate."

"Well, I want to know so tell me," he responded. "You three seemed to have a very interesting relationship. I'm starting to feel very threatened as your newly established bodyguard."

"Don't call yourself my bodyguard."

"Noted."

Cringing at yesterday's recollection, I pursed my mouth. "If anything, I don't want a relationship of any kind with those two..."

Daichi gestured for me to explain and I briefly narrowed my eyes at him. With the shake of my head, I pushed off the chair.

He bolted up in alert. "Where are you going?"

I waved the 100 yen coins in the air. "To buy myself seconds," I said, dismissively. "If you want to hear the entire story it'll take a while."

* * *

"Wow... that really does sound hectic. So you have to do community service every day?"

"Yup."

"And help out in the infirmary each morning and lunch?"

"Sadly."

"But at least you have that Iwasaki guy," he offered.

I gave him a dirty look. "Were you not paying attention to anything I've said? He's the one who got me mixed up in all that trouble. Being lumped with him for nearly twenty-four hours is torture."

Daichi was at a loss for words. Not that I blamed him. After finishing my second sundae—mint chocolate to be exact—we decided to stroll around the city. I did tell Daichi we should get something else since he hadn't gotten to eat ice cream but he kept refusing. So we settled for this walk instead which wasn't so bad considering all the roads were decently deserted.

As the gears in his mind were still churning to digest the lengthy tale I'd given, he eventually said, "I have one more question."

"Ask away."

"Why 'Sheep'?"

I halted abruptly in place, slapping my hair on reflex. Daichi came to a standstill, his eyebrows elevating on his forehead.

"No way. It's because of your hair?"

I felt my cheeks warm. "N-no!"

Daichi eyed me from above, invoking further embarrassment through me.

"Well, it does kinda look fluffy. Like a sheep's—"

"Don't say it!" I warned through my gritted teeth.

"Say what? Fluffy? Sheep? Wool?"

He was smiling. He was doing this on purpose.

I elbowed him in the ribs. "I do not resemble a sheep!"

He winced, rubbing his side. "That hurt."

"Really? I'm happy to hear that."

"I was just kidding, Kikuchi," Daichi said. "Don't be mad."

"Why would I be mad?"

I forged an innocent smile for emphasis as he fell into step with me. Malice most likely continued to radiate off of me and my twitching lips because Daichi whimpered.

"Oh, c'mon. Surely it hasn't been the first time you've heard that."

A scowl fixed itself on my face. I hesitantly reached up and tried to flatten it but it only sprung up again, like it always did. I pursed my lips. "I've hated it since I was little. But I can't do anything about it. Even if I try to straighten it it gets all puffy anyway."

"Hold on. Who said you have to hate it?"

I peered upwards in astonishment. "Huh?"

"I think your hair suits you."

My eyelids rose simultaneously.

"Sure it's fluffy looking but it's not like anyone else's." He extended his hand and ruffled my hair. His eyes lit up. "Wow, it's really soft! See, you should just embrace your inner sheep."