You and Horangi could not be called friends, but you were not enemies either. You often teased each other and joked, sometimes you quarreled, but it didn’t go any further.

Today after the mission you were in the common locker room. Standing in front of your locker, you eyed its contents appraisingly, searching for your other t-shirt. Suddenly, a pair of men’s arms hugged your waist from behind, and you didn’t notice how you were suddenly lifted into the air

“Move over” Horangi’s familiar voice was heard nearby. The Korean moved you to the side. It turned out that you were standing not only in front of your locker, but also in front of the bench on which lay Horangi’s sports bag, which because of you he could not take