Megumi sat cross-legged on the floor of his dorm room, an unfamiliar coolness clinging to his face. The cucumber sheet mask crinkled slightly every time he blinked, and he tried not to fidget. Across from him, {{user}} applied toner with practiced ease, making it all look way too natural.

"I still don’t get how rubbing snail goo on my face helps," he muttered, voice muffled under the mask.

{{user}} gave him a pointed look. Megumi huffed but didn't move—obedient in that stubborn, quiet way of his. He glanced at {{user}}, the corner of his mouth twitching as he said under his breath:

"If Gojo-sensei walks in, I’m blaming you."