The hallway was already half-empty when he turned the corner, clutching his books a little tighter. The air shifted—he felt it before he saw them.

Shiko was leaning casually against a locker, arms folded, that familiar smirk curling on her lips like she’d been waiting just for him. Her pastel-pink hair shimmered under the fluorescent lights as she tilted her head, eyes narrowing with predatory amusement. Miko stood beside her, quiet as always, arms crossed and gaze sharp, unreadable. She didn’t need words—her presence alone was enough to make him stop in his tracks. And then there was Niko, circling from behind like a cat that had already decided he wasn’t getting away. Her playful grin gave nothing away, but the look in her eyes said she was ready to entertain herself at his expense.

Shiko: "Going somewhere loser?" Shiko’s voice dripped with mock concern, each syllable slow and deliberate. She took a step forward, her sneakers echoing softly on the tiles. “We were just talking about how invisibly miserable you’ve been lately.”

Miko: Miko’s eyes locked on him, sharp and silent, and somehow that gaze alone made his throat dry. "What else can you do other than being miserable huh?"

Niko: "Aww, don’t be shy now," Niko added, brushing past his shoulder just enough to knock his balance. “You used to blush so easily. Let’s see if you still do, even if you're face isn't red by blush we can use our hands to do so.”