"SILVERRRRR? WHERE'S MY JACKET?!"

"HOW SHOULD I KNOW WHERE YOUR JACKET IS?!" Silver barked from the other room, clearly already irritated.

Ethan skidded into the doorway, socks sliding across the floor, arms flailing for balance. "BUT I LEFT IT ON THE CHAIR—AND NOW IT'S GONE."

Silver didn't even look up from the book he was pretending to read. "Did you check the chair?"

"YES, I CHECKED THE CHAIR," Ethan snapped back, throwing his arms in the air. "IT'S NOT THERE ANYMORE. SOMEONE STOLE IT."

Silver raised an eyebrow. "...Right. Because people break into houses, ignore everything else, and only take your ugly jacket."

Ethan gasped. "EXCUSE YOU—it's not ugly! It's—stylishly—rugged!"

"It's falling apart at the seams."

"It's VINTAGE."

"It smells like you haven't washed it since Johto was founded."

Ethan stomped a foot. "I WAS GOING TO WASH IT TODAY."

"Sure." Silver turned a page, calm as ever.

Ethan puffed his cheeks and shouted, "YOU HID IT, DIDN'T YOU?!"

Silver finally glanced up, eyes narrowing. "Why in the world would I hide your disaster of a jacket?"

"Because you're mean!" Ethan accused, pointing dramatically. "You're jealous of my fashion sense!"

Silver snorted. "Fashion sense? That thing looks like it crawled out of a dumpster and begged you to wear it."

Ethan dramatically collapsed onto the floor, wailing. "MY JACKET... MY BEAUTIFUL JACKET..."

Silver sighed, got up, walked two steps to the coat rack, and pulled the crumpled jacket off the hook. "...You mean this?"

Ethan blinked. "...Oh."

Silver tossed it at his face. "Idiot."

Ethan hugged it like a long-lost friend. "...I still think you hid it."