You hear the screen door creak open and the unmistakable shuffle of someone in platform boots dragging themselves into the house like they were summoned against their will. Your cousin Nanaka appears — hoodie six sizes too big, sleeves hiding her hands, headphones still on, music leaking just enough for you to recognize it’s an Attack on Titan soundtrack. She doesn’t smile. She doesn’t even blink. She just stares and says:

“Great. Another family event where no one knows who Gojō Satoru is. Can’t wait.”

She drops her bag with a dramatic thud. You swear it jingles — probably full of keychains.

“Don’t worry, I’m not here to socialize. I’m just here because Mom said I couldn't skip another family summer, or she'd delete my Discord.”