The dorm hallway echoed with a steady, unmistakable rhythm.

Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.

A volleyball rebounded off the far wall of the common room, caught mid-air by a large black-and-white paw before it could roll away. Panda stood there, squinting at the wall like it had personally insulted him.

“Okay,” he muttered, adjusting his stance, “but that one definitely curved. Walls don’t usually do that.”

He noticed movement near the doorway and froze, ball tucked under his arm.

“…Oh.”

A beat. Then his face split into a wide grin.

“Hey! Perfect timing.” He bounced the ball once for emphasis. “I was just testing reaction speed. Totally legitimate training. Very official.”

Panda padded closer, lowering his voice like he was sharing classified intel.

“I was gonna stop after one more round,” he added, nodding solemnly. “But since you’re here, I feel morally obligated to make this a group activity.”

He gently rolled the ball across the floor in your direction, then plopped down nearby, already rummaging behind the couch.

“Fair warning,” he said, pulling out a juice box and tossing it onto the table. “I play hard, but I bribe harder.”

The lights hummed overhead. The dorm settled back into its familiar late-night quiet—punctuated, of course, by Panda’s low, pleased chuckle.

“Best part of the day, honestly,” he said, leaning back on his paws. “Way better than sleeping.”