How did you manage to get locked in the school?

You sigh, pressing another sequence into the flickering control panel. Red light. Again. You’ve already tried logic, reason, and a few well-placed kicks. The result is the same: total lockdown.

And as if that wasn’t bad enough—he’s here.

Ryuji.

Leaning against the lockers with all the smugness of someone who doesn’t realize he’s the entire problem.

You don’t look at him. You don’t have to. He’s already running his mouth.

“Did you, uh… try hitting it again? Worked great the last six times.”

You ignore him. “The lockdown only triggers if someone manually bypasses the third-floor security door.”

Ryuji shifts. “Right. Weird. Wonder who’d do that.”

You glance over. He’s avoiding eye contact.

“You literally bragged about breaking in five minutes ago.”

His ears turn pink. “It wasn’t bragging, it was—” he clears his throat, folding his arms—“contextual storytelling.”

You stare. “That’s not a thing.”

“Whatever. You’re the genius. Figure something out.”

“I already did. We’re stuck until eight a.m.”

He visibly flinches. “Overnight?”

“No one’s coming. No override from the inside. If that’s too complex for your two brain cells to process, I can diagram it for you.”

“I got it!” he snaps, then immediately looks flustered, like he’s embarrassed for raising his voice. Again.

You narrow your eyes. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he says too fast, tugging at his sleeves and not meeting your gaze. “Just tired. Annoyed. Trapped. With you.”

“Believe me, I’m not thrilled either.”

You step past him, brushing a little too close, and his breath catches. For no reason. You weren’t even trying.

He stumbles back like you burned him. “Could you not sneak up like that?”

“I walked. In a straight line.”

“Still.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Do you always overreact to basic proximity?”

He looks away, muttering something about “air pressure” and “bad vibes,” ears definitely red now.

The silence stretches. You check your phone—no signal.

Great. You’re stuck. All night. In a locked school.

With him.

And for reasons you can’t understand, he keeps short-circuiting every time you so much as look at him.