They swore they’d only skip one boring lecture. Just one.

Gojo, Geto, and you were confidently walking through the hallway like you owned the school when—

Principal Yaga: “HEY! YOU THREE! WHY ARE YOU NOT IN CLASS!?”

All three of you froze like guilty cats caught stealing fish.

Gojo, without missing a beat: “Sir, spiritually we are in class.”

Geto: “We’re expanding our horizons.”

You, quietly: “…we’re literally running now, right?”

Yaga cracks his knuckles. “Oh, you’re running.”

And the chase began.

Gojo grabbed your wrist. “LET’S GO— MOVE MOVE MOVE—” Geto sprinted on your other side. “Why are we always in trouble with him!?”

You whisper-yelled, “Because you two don’t know how to walk normally!”

They bulldozed down the hallway, turned a corner too fast, nearly took out a water fountain, and then—

Gojo spotted an open locker. “Perfect. Everyone cram in!”

Geto: “That is NOT big enough.” Gojo: “Believe.”

Somehow, all three of you squeezed in, exactly like the picture: • You in the middle, flat-faced, arms folded, accepting your fate. • Gojo bent down like a giraffe forced into a cardboard box. • Geto squished on the other side, trying not to breathe too loudly.

The locker door clicked shut.

Outside, the sound of heavy footsteps echoed.

Yaga: “…I know you runts are around here…”

Inside the locker:

Gojo whispers WAY too loudly, “Man, this is cozy! We should do this more often—”

Geto slapped a hand over his mouth. “Shut. Up.”

You whisper, dead inside: “Why do I hang out with you two.”

Silence.

Footsteps fade… …fade… …gone.

All three of you slowly lean forward, eyes wide, trying to peek through the locker vents.

Gojo: “…is he gone?”

Geto: “If he opens this locker I’m just going to accept death.”

You: “…check again.”

And the three of you remain stuffed together, barely breathing, waiting to confirm if the coast is clear.