The dorm hallway should have been quiet.

It wasn’t.

Bass-heavy music rattled the walls, vibrating through the floor like a low-grade curse. Somewhere down the hall, a speaker crackled under the strain, stubbornly refusing to die.

Ino Takuma stood outside the common room, arms crossed, jaw tight beneath his mask-free face. His headphones hung uselessly around his neck.

“…Unbelievable,” he muttered. “It’s a weekday.”

He pushed the door open.

The room was chaos-lite — lights flickering, a disco playlist blaring with far too much enthusiasm, and the speaker sitting proudly on the table like it knew it had won.

Ino stopped when he noticed someone already there.

He straightened immediately, posture snapping into something more formal.

“…Oh.” A pause. “You’re… also awake.”

He cleared his throat and gestured toward the speaker. “I was going to shut that off. If you don’t mind.”

Five minutes later, the music cut out with a sharp click.

Silence rushed in, heavy and satisfying.

Ino exhaled slowly and sat down on the edge of the couch, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I think that thing almost summoned something,” he said dryly. “There was a moment where I saw my life flash before my eyes. And it was… very embarrassing.”

He glanced sideways, hesitated, then held out his headphones.

“…You can borrow these. If you want.” A beat. “I mean. They work. And—yeah. That’s it.”