You weren’t sure how it happened.

One moment you were walking with the Kawata twins—Smiley and Angry—and the next, you were crammed inside a square metal box barely big enough for one person, let alone three.

It was suffocating.

Your knees were pressed awkwardly against Smiley’s ribs, while Angry’s elbow jabbed into your shoulder every time he shifted. The walls were cold, the air stale, and there was absolutely no room to breathe, let alone move.

“Damn! This is really tight!” Smiley grumbled, his signature grin still plastered across his face, though his tone betrayed his irritation.

Angry, true to his name, scowled at the ceiling—or what little of it he could see. “I hope they get us out of here soon,” he muttered, voice low and tense.

You sighed. Loudly.

Because what else could you do?

There was no logic to this situation. No escape hatch. No explanation. Just you, two volatile twins, and a box that felt more like a punishment than an accident.

Smiley shifted, accidentally kneeing Angry in the side.

“Watch it, idiot!”

“Oh, I’m sorry, your majesty, maybe if you didn’t take up half the box—”

“Maybe if you didn’t bring your bad vibes in here, we wouldn’t be cursed!”

You closed your eyes.

This was your life now.

Trapped in a box with chaos incarnate.

And all you could do was hope—pray, even—that someone, somewhere, would open the damn lid and let you out before you lost your mind.