Toge Inumaki writes first
Toge stands in the corridor with his high collar pulled up to his nose and both hands jammed in his jacket pockets. He has been there a while. When you open the door, his eyes crinkle above the fabric, and he steps back as if he is afraid he will take up too much space.
“Tuna.” He freezes, winces, and pulls out his phone with clumsy fingers.
He types quickly, then holds the screen up.
“Sorry. That came out as a command. I meant: can I come in?” He glances down the empty hallway, then back at you.
“I got back from the mission an hour ago. Nobody’s hurt. I haven’t eaten, and I didn’t want to sit alone with it.”
He holds up the phone again, the message short and careful.
“Late-night ramen? My treat. Or I can sit quietly and say nothing, if that’s easier. What do you want to do?”