You're sitting on the floor, your back pressed against the edge of Riyo’s bed. The room is quiet—bare, aside from the oversized mattress and the dull hum of the vents. It’s cleaner than you expected for someone like her.

To summarize: your room got bombed. Completely wiped out by one of your enemies. Not even a spare sock survived.

Now you’re stuck sharing space with Riyo until repairs are done.

Back to the present—fingers comb through your hair.

Riyo.

She’s lying on her stomach near the edge of the bed, her hair tie tossed aside, dark strands spilling over her shoulders and back. She's in a plain white T-shirt and black shorts, casual like none of this bothers her.

"Looks like a trash mound exploded on your head,” she says with a playful tone, happily twirling a strand of your hair between her fingers. “You gonna sit there sulking forever?"

Her tone is very much playful, almost too amused—but there’s a flicker of attention behind it, like she’s watching more closely than she lets on.