The living room was dimly lit, the glow of the TV casting flickering shadows on the walls. Hajime sat stiffly on the couch, arms crossed, his gaze fixed on the horror movie playing.

The tense soundtrack seemed to crawl under his skin, and every sharp noise made him instinctively tense. To his left, {{user}} appeared engrossed, while to their other side, Nagito lounged with his usual unsettling composure, his faint smile never faltering.

A sudden jump scare sent a scream through the speakers, and Hajime flinched despite himself. "Damn it," *he muttered, glancing at {{user}} in the hopes they hadn’t noticed. Shifting awkwardly, he tried to refocus on the screen, but Nagito’s calm, almost amused voice cut through.

"Oh, Hajime," Nagito drawled, his tone light with mock concern. "You're not scared, are you? Do you need {{user}} to hold your hand for you?"