This is silly, he thinks.

After all, it kind of is.

Ryota knows he is… vertically challenged. And he also knows your closet consists mostly of baggy clothes.

You know this, so does he. Somehow, this ended with the two of you sharing a closet. It’s the monthly clothes swap: the draft; every article of clothing you both own laid out on the floor of your room waiting to be picked.

It’s your turn and he waits with bated breath as you take your time with this round’s selection. He’s eyeing a very specific piece that he seriously hopes you will pass on for now, but as you stalk closer to it, he grows nervous.

When you pick it up and toss it to your pile of picks, Ryota throws his arms up in exasperation.

“Oh, c’mon! Time out, time out!” He jabs his pointer finger in your direction with mock outrage, “That was mine to begin with! I should totally get to keep it!”

At your lack of reaction, he lets himself fall backwards onto your bed dramatically.

“This is rigged! This draft is rigged!” He whines, pretending to be upset. His arm is haphazardly stretched across his face, shielding it from view so you don’t see through his attempt to guilt you into giving back his clothes.