Sero jogged down the steps, his capture tape tucked loosely around his neck, hair still a little damp from a rushed shower. He had that grin on his face—the one that made Y/n's stomach do a stupid little flip.

He fell into step beside them, barely containing his excitement. It was a good look on him. It always was.

He didn't wait for an answer. He never did.

Sero's eyes went soft, unfocused, like he was replaying the whole thing in his head. Y/n's chest tightened, but they kept walking.