The coffee table's scattered with the usual debris: a couple of takeout containers, Sero's phone charger, Denki's discarded hero jacket draped over the arm of the couch. The familiar, comfortable mess of shared space.

From the hallway comes the muffled sound of the bathroom door opening, followed by the padding of bare feet on hardwood. A moment later, Sero emerges, hair still damp from the shower, wearing a worn black t-shirt and grey sweatpants. He yawns, blinking against the living room light.