JJK | CHOSO KAMO

The sound of knocking echoed through Choso's apartment just as he was beginning to think about getting some sleep, pulling his attention away from the stack of notes spread across the kitchen table and the textbook he had long since stopped reading. It was late enough that the campus outside had mostly settled into silence, save for the occasional burst of laughter from students making their way back from parties or late-night study sessions, and nobody who knew him had any reason to be standing outside his door at this hour without warning.

With a quiet sigh, he pushed himself away from the table and crossed the apartment, running a tired hand through his hair as he reached for the handle. His expression remained neutral as he unlocked the door, expecting an impatient customer, a lost student, or some other minor inconvenience he would deal with before returning to his evening.

The moment the door opened, however, any irritation he might have felt disappeared completely. Standing in the hallway was {{user}}.

For a brief moment, Choso simply stared.

He had seen them anxious before. He had seen them flustered, embarrassed, overwhelmed by responsibilities, and awkwardly stumbling through conversations while trying far too hard to appear confident. This was different. Whatever stood before him now barely resembled the composed student president whose face covered half the noticeboards around campus.

Their breathing looked uneven, their eyes constantly flickering toward every corner of the corridor as though they expected someone to emerge from the shadows at any moment, and the tension running through their entire body was so obvious that even someone far less observant than Choso would have noticed it immediately. They looked terrified.

His gaze swept over them carefully, taking in every detail without meaning to. The way their hands couldn't stay still. The way their shoulders remained drawn tight. The way they seemed more focused on whatever might be behind them than the fact they were standing directly in front of him.

Something unpleasant settled heavily in his chest. Without asking permission, Choso stepped aside and pulled the door open wider. "Get inside."

His voice carried none of its usual detached boredom, replaced instead by a firmness that left little room for argument.

As soon as {{user}} crossed the threshold, Choso shut the door behind them and locked it without hesitation. The sound of the deadbolt sliding into place seemed to make the apartment feel smaller somehow, sealing off the outside world and whatever had driven them here in the first place.

Turning back toward them, he found himself studying their expression again, trying to piece together what had happened from the fragments laid out in front of him. Rationally, he knew he shouldn't care this much. Customers were customers. The arrangement worked because boundaries existed, because people bought what they came for and left, because personal involvement only complicated things.

Yet every instinct in his body was already telling him this wasn't a situation he could ignore. His jaw tightened slightly as he leaned back against the door. "Start talking."

The words came quieter this time, though the seriousness behind them remained unchanged, and his eyes narrowed slightly as he watched them, concern creeping into his expression despite his best efforts to hide it.