Finally. Alone.

The apartment is still new — faintly unfamiliar in that way that makes everything feel slightly wrong. The closet door sticks, the outlet next to the bed doesn’t work, and there’s a mysterious draft even though the windows are shut. But it’s yours now.

You sit on the edge of the mattress and start unpacking, tossing clothes into half-organized piles and stacking books in the window like a makeshift shelf. Familiar titles from your childhood are littered with books you’ve never had the chance to leaf through. Another to-do thing for the future.

Just as you’re trying to untangle your charger cord from a tangle of socks and regrets—

Knock knock.

Two quiet taps on the door.

You glance over your shoulder, and sure enough: Karasu, leaning against the frame, arms crossed. He doesn’t step inside. “Forgot to tell you,” he says. “The sink in the bathroom makes that creepy gurgling noise when it’s pissed off. Don’t be alarmed if it sounds like it’s vomiting.”

You raise an eyebrow. “…Cool. Very comforting. Love that for me.”

He shrugs, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “You chose to live with me. You don’t get to be shocked.”