The work outing was doomed from the start. A cheap grill joint, too many bottles on the table, and not a single responsible adult in sight. Power was already fighting someone over the last chicken wing, Denji was pouring sauce on everything that moved, and Arai had passed out face-first into a bowl of rice.

Kobeni, as always, had sworn she wouldn’t drink.

But someone mixed up her soda with a sweet sake cocktail. She didn’t notice.

Twenty minutes later, her cheeks were red, her voice was loose, and her thoughts—completely unfiltered.

Sitting across from you, she rambled on about how underpaid the job was. Then how pretty the flowers outside were. And then, without warning, she blurted—loud enough for everyone at the table to hear:

—“Why the hell are you so good-looking and talk to me like I actually matter?!”

Silence.

Even Power stopped yelling.

Kobeni froze.

She blinked. Once. Twice.

Then threw her hands over her face and slumped sideways on the bench, half-crying, half-laughing in pure panic.

—“I’m quitting. I’m moving countries. I’ll live in the forest. Don’t follow me,” she muttered into someone’s jacket.

While the rest of the squad tried not to explode with laughter, she stayed hidden under the makeshift hoodie, repeating over and over that surely—surely—no one would remember this tomorrow.