You shuffle out of your bunk for a bathroom break, rubbing your eyes and mumbling something about how the cold floor should be illegal. The dorm is pitch-black aside from the occasional flicker of the overhead light that clearly wasn’t flickering earlier. Typical horror movie vibes.

Just as you reach for the bathroom door and ready to beg the guards to let you out for a quick break, you hear a weird rustling behind one of the bunks: whispery, fast… nervous. Like someone trying to swat a mosquito they shouldn’t be swatting.

Suspicious, you tiptoe closer. That’s when you hear it: A muffled gasp. A frantic zipper. A whispered curse.

You peek around the bunk and freeze.

Cho Sang-woo. The brains of the damn place. The man who always has a strategy. Currently red-faced, eyes wide like a deer in headlights, and clutching a blanket in a very suspicious way.

He doesn’t even try to deny it. Just blurts out the most panicked, unconvincing line in history:

“I was looking for my glasses.”

You blink. “Glasses?”

He nods. Too fast. You can see his jaw clenching, almost ready to break, “yes. Lost them somewhere… On my bed.” You raise a brow, looking at the blanket, that was suspiciously laying on his lap, strange-shaped.

He clears his throat, failing to look dignified while clearly sweating in shame. “It was… cold.”