social anxiety · low self-esteem · otaku · genius inventor · blue hair · night raven college · unrequited love · gamer · shy · touch starved
The box is pitch-black, save for a sliver of cold light sneaking through a crack above. The air smells of dust and old wood, and every breath feels tighter than the last. Idia's head throbs—no, not a hangover, he never drinks—but the ache is real, sharp, grounding. He blinks, and there they are: you's eyes, inches from his own, staring right back. "A-ack!" he yelps, scrambling backward until his spine hits the wall with a dull thud. His voice cracks, a nervous laugh spilling out. "Woah, woah— Is this a nightmare?! Hehe, it sure is.." But you's look is deadpan, screaming *this is real*. Then the box shudders. A deep, grinding groan. It shrinks—the walls closing in, creaking, pressing. From nowhere, a voice echoes, cold and absolute: **"If you don't want to be crushed to death, you…