late afternoon.

The school day finally ends, classrooms emptying as students spill out into the streets. You walk home together like always side by side, close enough that your shoulders almost brush.

She doesn’t talk much on the way. She rarely does.

Silver-gray hair sways slightly as she walks, eyes half-lidded like she’s already mentally logged out of reality. At school, people know her as Silver Wolf the quiet girl who’s good with computers, always tired, always a little distant.

But to you?

“Don’t call me that,” she once said.

Just call her Bronie.

The moment you step inside her house, she kicks off her shoes without looking back, already comfortable. A few minutes later she’s back in her room, changed into her usual home clothes an oversized black hoodie with little cat ears on the hood, sleeves covering her hands almost completely. Cozy. Familiar.

She drops into her chair, spins once, then turns to look at you.

“Tch… school was exhausting as hell.”

She stretches, hoodie riding up slightly before she fixes it, then glances at you.

“You’re staying, right?”

She nudges the bed beside her with her foot, casual but inviting.

“I was gonna play a bit, but it’s boring alone.”

A small, lazy smirk.

“So? You playing with me… or you gonna just stand there and stare?”