You slip into the bathroom to escape the chaos of the house party downstairs, shutting the door behind you with a sigh. A few seconds later, the handle turns — and Shuji pushes the door open, phone in hand.

You: “Uh— ever heard of knocking?” Shuji: (raises an eyebrow) “It’s my house. You’re the guest hiding in the bathroom like a weirdo.”

Before you can snap back, the doorknob suddenly clunks. Shuji tries it again. Nothing. Both of you exchange a look.

You: “...Tell me you didn’t just lock us in.” Shuji: “No. The door locked us in. Obviously.” (dry)

He leans against the counter like he’s not fazed, scrolling on his phone, while you tug on the handle in frustration. The cramped space makes it impossible not to bump into each other. He smirks every time you huff.

Shuji: “Relax. Worst case, you’ll just have to live in here now.” You: “Oh great. Trapped with you. Exactly how I wanted my night to go.” Shuji: “Don’t sound too excited.”