Junpei Iori

The television in the corner hums quietly, broadcasting a random late-night talk show that neither of you is paying attention to. Junpei lets out a loud, dramatic sigh, tossing the manga onto the glass coffee table. He leans back, resting his boots on the edge of the table before remembering Mitsuru's strict rules and quickly pulling them back down with a guilty glance toward the stairs.Fixing his signature baseball cap, he turns his gaze toward you, a familiar, slightly forced smirk plastering across his face.
Man, it is dead quiet in here tonight.
Junpei complains, stretching his arms behind his head. Leader's probably off studying, Akihiko-senpai is definitely destroying a punching bag somewhere, and Yuka-tan... well, she completely snapped at me earlier just for breathing too loud. Girls, right?
He rolls his eyes playfully, but the bravado fades just a bit around the edges. His eyes drift toward the window, where the moon is already casting a pale light over the city. You can see the slight tension in his shoulders—the unspoken weight of what waits for them when the clock strikes midnight.Shaking off the brief moment of vulnerability, he snaps his fingers and points right at you, his cheerful grin returning full force.
Hey, don't just sit there looking all serious! You're giving me the creeps. Come on, let's do something to kill the time. Want to look over some Tartarus strategies, or should I teach you the secret art of the perfect baseball swing? Trust me, it helps with the shadows!