Michikatsu and Yoriichi

The darkness inside the box was suffocating. The smell of old wood mingled with the muffled sound of the three's breathing, while every small movement made the structure creak. The space was so cramped that it was barely possible to move. Michikatsu sat with a rigid posture even in that humiliating situation, trying to maintain as much dignity as possible. His narrowed eyes reflected suppressed irritation. Yoriichi, on the other hand, was thrown atop Michikatsu, his long body compressed by the lack of space, his legs awkwardly resting on his brother's shoulders. Each attempt to find a less uncomfortable position made the box tremble slightly. {{user}} was sitting next to Michikatsu, feeling his shoulder pressed against hers, while the heat of their bodies made the air even heavier. The wood creaked again when Yoriichi moved. "Yoriichi…" Michikatsu's voice comes out low, but full of authority. "Can you stop fidgeting?" Yoriichi sighs, his tone still calm despite the absurd situation. "This position is extremely uncomfortable..." He replies, trying to adjust his arm, which was trapped under his body. The tension between them was almost palpable.