Yuma and Harua get stuck in an elevator—Yuma insists he's fine, but Harua sees right through him.

*****
""You know I wouldn't let anything happen, right?"
*****

The elevator came to a sudden, jarring stop.

Harua barely had time to process it before the overhead light flickered, and an unsettling silence settled over the space.

Then—

"You've got to be kidding me."

Harua turned to see Yuma frozen in place, his hand still hovering near the panel of buttons. His usual smirk was nowhere to be found.

"We're stuck," Harua stated blankly.

Yuma let out a nervous chuckle. "Yeah. Guess so."

Harua sighed, pressing the emergency button. Nothing happened. He pressed it again. Still nothing.

"Okay, well... that's annoying," he muttered.

Yuma shifted beside him, arms crossed, shoulders noticeably tense. "Eh, it's whatever. Someone'll fix it soon."

Harua glanced at him. "You okay?"

Yuma scoffed. "Of course. It's just an elevator."

But his posture told a different story.

Harua leaned against the wall, arms crossed. Yuma, on the other hand, hadn't moved.

Like, at all.

He stood stiffly, back straight, eyes fixed on the closed doors like he could force them open with sheer willpower.

"You sure you're okay?" Harua asked again.

Yuma scoffed. "Pfft. Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

Harua shrugged. "You're standing like a robot."

Yuma rolled his eyes. "I'm just—relaxed."

Harua raised an eyebrow. "You call that relaxed?"

Yuma cleared his throat. "I just don't see a reason to, you know... waste energy moving around."

Harua hummed. "Right. Nothing to do with the fact that we're in a tiny, enclosed metal box?"

Yuma's jaw clenched. "Obviously not."

Harua smirked. So that's how it is.

A few minutes passed in silence, save for the occasional creak of the elevator.

Then—

"Okay," Yuma suddenly said. "What if we don't talk about how this is a small, enclosed space?"

Harua chuckled. "I didn't say anything."

"You were thinking it."

Harua tilted his head. "So you are bothered?"

Yuma groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "Look. I may not be the biggest fan of elevators."

Harua smirked. "Uh-huh."

"But I'm fine," Yuma insisted.

Harua eyed him. "Your hands are clenched."

Yuma immediately stuffed them into his pockets. "No, they're not."

"Your face is kind of pale."

"No, it's not."

Harua tapped his chin. "You're also—"

"HARUA," Yuma groaned. "Just—distract me or something."

Harua thought for a moment. Then—

"Wanna argue about something dumb?"

Yuma blinked. "Like what?"

Harua shrugged. "Favorite ramen flavor."

Yuma scoffed. "That's easy. Tonkotsu."

Harua made a face. "Wrong."

Yuma gasped. "Excuse me?"

"Shoyu is superior."

"Oh, please—"

And just like that, they launched into a heated debate about noodles.

The conversation slowed.

Harua glanced at Yuma again. His usual easy confidence was gone. His fingers twitched slightly, and his knee bounced like he was trying to focus on anything but their current situation.

The walls suddenly felt smaller.

Harua sighed. "You know you don't have to pretend, right?"

Yuma stilled. "What?"

Harua leaned forward slightly. "You're not fooling me. You're uncomfortable."

Yuma scoffed. "I'm fine."

Harua just stared at him.

Yuma shot him a look but didn't argue. "It's not like I'm scared or anything."

Harua hummed. "Uh-huh. Just... uncomfortable."

"Exactly."

A long silence stretched between them before Yuma finally exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "...Okay. Fine. I don't like small spaces."

Harua tilted his head. "Why?"

Yuma hesitated. He shifted his weight, fingers tightening into his hoodie sleeve. "...It's stupid."

Harua shrugged. "I won't laugh."

Yuma let out a humorless chuckle. "It's just... I got stuck in a small room once when I was a kid. No one found me for hours."

Harua's eyes softened. "That's not stupid."

Yuma let out a breath, leaning his head back against the wall. "Yeah, well. Not a fan of reliving it."

Harua didn't say anything for a moment. Then, carefully, he shifted a little closer.

Not enough to crowd him—just enough to be there.

Yuma blinked at him. "What are you doing?"

Harua shrugged. "You looked like you were about to pass out."

Yuma scoffed. "I'm fine."

Harua side-eyed him. "Sure."

Another pause.

Then, quietly, Harua said, "You know I wouldn't let anything happen, right?"

Yuma's breath hitched.

It was such a simple sentence.

But for some reason, it made his chest feel lighter.

"...Yeah," he muttered.

Harua just nodded, settling back against the wall. "Good."

And somehow, Yuma found it easier to breathe.

The elevator finally beeped, and the doors slid open.

Yuma shot up like he'd been electrocuted, practically sprinting out.

Harua followed at a normal pace, watching with mild amusement as Yuma inhaled a dramatic breath of fresh air.

K was standing outside, arms crossed. "You two were in there for almost an hour."

Yuma groaned. "Don't remind me."

K raised an eyebrow. "How did it go?"

Harua shrugged. "He panicked."

"I did not," Yuma shot back.

Harua just grinned. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say."

"Let's never do that again."

Harua stood up, smirking. "Agreed."

And with that, he walked off, leaving Yuma to groan into his hands.

He was never living this down.