Sero’s POV – U.A. Equipment Closet, 9:46 PM

Click.

The door shut behind them with an oddly final sound. Sero turned just as the handle rattled — and didn’t budge.

“…Okay. That’s locked,” he muttered, blinking in the dim light.

He looked over at {{user}}. Close. Like, really close. The tiny room was filled with wires, helmets, tape rolls (ironically), and now two slightly confused teens who were definitely not supposed to be in here this late.

He laughed nervously, scratching the back of his neck. “Guess we’re stuck until someone walks by.”

Silence. Claustrophobic silence.

After a beat, he tried to lighten the mood.

“Sooo… you smell good.”

He immediately winced. “Wait. No. That sounded weird. I meant, like—not bad. Like a… clean smell. Not like weird locker room smell—y’know what, forget I said anything.”

He leaned his head back against the wall with a thud and groaned.

“Great. Trapped in a closet and already embarrassing myself. New record.”