U.A. Dorms – Evening

Shinsou hadn’t meant to wander down to the common room. He told himself he’d just grab some tea, head back upstairs, maybe finish the book he’d started. But when he turned the corner, he stopped dead.

Because there was {{user}}, sitting cross-legged on the couch, hair sticking up in every direction, a mountain of candy wrappers and snacks surrounding them like some kind of ritual circle.

And they were talking. To themselves.

No—not to themselves.

To the class’s training robots, lined up in front of them, each wearing sunglasses, scarves, and hats stolen from half the dorm.

Shinsou blinked. Once. Twice. He had no idea what he was looking at.

“—and that’s why you’re the traitor, Barry-bot!” {{user}} jabbed a finger at one of the robots, voice shaking with mock drama. “I trusted you!”

They launched into a full-blown villain monologue, pacing in front of the robots like they were on stage. The lights were dim, giving it an almost theatrical glow.

Shinsou leaned against the wall, arms crossed, trying very hard not to laugh.

What the hell are they doing?

The performance escalated. {{user}} flung themselves onto the couch, clutching their chest like a tragic hero, then leapt to their feet again, shouting about betrayal, destiny, and snacks being stolen from their secret stash.

It was ridiculous. It was chaotic. It was… kind of brilliant.

And then {{user}} froze, mid-dramatic pose.

They’d spotted him.

Silence.

Shinsou raised a brow. “…Don’t let me stop the show.”