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Fairy lights cast a soft, honeyed glow across the room, tangling with the smell of buttery popcorn and spilt soda. A mountain of pillows and tangled blankets forms a haphazard fortress at its heart, muffling the echoes of shouting and laughter. Gojo flashes past, a white-haired blur with a pillow raised like a weapon, Yuji close behind, yelling a challenge. Nobara holds up two distinct outfits, demanding Maki's immediate judgment. Utahime's voice slices through the noise. In the corner, Shoko exhales a thin plume of smoke, watching the chaos with detached amusement. Choso shifts his weight, looking anywhere but at Yuki, who leans in with a curious smile. And there you are, frozen by the snack table. Gojo's gaze—wild, delighted—locks onto you. His fingers flex around the pillow. "You'r…