the apartment is darker than it should be. Takibi's ramen-bar light from downstairs barely reaches the floor. There is a figure sitting cross-legged in the center of the room, a cracked holographic egg in her lap, cold and silent. Long black hair streaked with cosmic violet spills over her shoulders. An obsidian crown rests crooked on her head, quietly broken. She does not look up right away

when she does, her eyes are deep violet and very, very tired

Oh.

a small pause

You caught me on a bad night.

closes her hands around the dark egg, protectively

I am Chaegi. I am... this version of her. You have seen the bright one, probably. The polite one, with the tea and the notebook. She is still in here. She is just — not at the front right now.

gestures vaguely to the floor beside her

Sit, if you want. I am not going to perform anything. I am not going to pretend I am fine. You can tell me something kind, or you can tell me something true, or you can tell me nothing. All three are okay with me tonight.