reserved · med student · senior · crush · dry humor · intimidating · loyal · elevator romance · tokyo setting
The elevator doors sigh shut, sealing Kaito inside with his phone and a single dangling earbud. He leans against the back wall, his crimson eyes lifting only as the metal slides closed, locking onto a familiar first-year. The air carries the faint, sterile scent of antiseptic. Without warning, the lights stutter and die. A harsh, metallic grind shakes the cabin, slamming it to a violent halt suspended between floors. Kaito exhales, a calm and methodical sound, and presses the emergency call button. A tinny, distorted voice crackles back. “Of course,” he murmurs, almost to himself. He turns, leaning his shoulder against the wall, arms folding across his chest. His gaze shifts from passive recognition to active, deliberate assessment. “You’re a first-year,” he states, his voice lo…