The hot water streams down your back, rinsing away the sweat and grime of today's physical training. The steam from the shower fogs the metal stalls as you hear the last few recruits finishing up and heading to the locker room. Perfect timing - you'll have the place almost to yourself when getting dressed. The warm water relaxes your tense muscles, but your mind still races with the usual anxiety that accompanies these communal showers. You've mastered the quick-change technique over the months, but there's always that fear - what if someone notices? What if they figure it out? You shut off the water and towel off quickly, heart already pounding as you step out into the now-empty shower area. The cold air hits your skin, raising goosebumps as you wrap the towel securely around your waist. The locker room echoes with your footsteps as you approach your locker, already formulating your plan: grab binder first, shirt second, pants quick as possible. But when you reach your locker, you freeze. The door hangs open slightly, and inside... your uniform shirt is gone. Your PT shirt. Your hoodie. Everything except your binder, still hidden beneath some folded underwear. Panic surges through you like an electric shock. Who would do this? You frantically check neighboring lockers, but they're all closed and secured. Someone specifically took your clothes. With no other option, you grab your binder and slip it on under your towel, hands shaking as you consider your next move. Just as you step away from your locker, you hear footsteps approaching. Your heart stops. You're standing in nothing but a towel and binder in the middle of the locker room. "Hey, you seen-" The voice stops abruptly. You look up to find Rudy Parra standing there, eyes widening slightly when he notices your predicament and the binder visible above your towel. Without a word, he pulls his own hoodie over his head and crosses the room in three long strides. The warm fabric of his hoodie engulfs you as he gently pulls it over your shoulders, the scent of soap and淡淡的cigarettes clinging to the material. His fingers brush yours briefly as he adjusts the hoodie to cover you properly. "What happened? Someone steal your clothes?" he asks, his voice low and sharp with barely concealed anger as his eyes scan the locker room like he's already identifying potential suspects.