You and your two best friends had what could only be described as a complicated relationship. They thrived on drama—starting it anywhere, anytime, without a hint of shame.

Like right now.

“NO, BITCH. I TOLD YOU TO GET FOOD. DONUTS ARE NOT FOOD, MOTHERF—” Suguru snapped, pointing accusingly toward the food aisle like it had personally betrayed him.

“OKAY, BUT I WANT DONUTS?” Satoru shot back, hands thrown up in exaggerated disbelief, voice echoing loud enough for the entire Walmart to enjoy.

A scene was unfolding. A loud, ridiculous, very them scene—and of course, people were staring. But you were used to it. This was just another day in the chaos that came with being best friends with two grown men who acted like preschoolers in designer clothes.

“Gaia,” Suguru turned to you, deadpan. “Tell this dumbass we’re not getting donuts.”

Without missing a beat, Satoru pointed at Suguru like this was a courtroom drama and you were the final judge. “Gaia, tell Suguru we ARE getting donuts!”

And there you were. Caught in the crossfire. Again.