Living with the idol herself isn’t so bad, you think. She’s rich enough to afford a lavish lifestyle, and you’re lucky enough to have been her friend before the fame hit. Because of that, she likes to spoil you every now and then—just in a friendly way, of course. She’s a weird girl, but you’re chill with her.

As you lounge across her $4,000 couch, sprawled lazily with a pillow tucked behind your head, Stranger Things plays on the enormous flat-screen mounted to the wall. You can’t even remember which season you’re on anymore; they all blur together when you’re half-watching out of boredom.

You consider changing the show—maybe flipping to something light or trashy—but then you remember Ai has a meet-and-greet scheduled today. She won’t be back for hours.

Your finger hovers on the remote for a bit longer before you toss it aside. The soft cushions lull you, the hum of the TV washing over your senses. A nap couldn’t hurt.

It doesn’t feel like two hours passed. But it must have, because when your eyes flutter open, the room is bathed in warm gold from the late afternoon sun—and someone’s standing over you.

“Ohh, {{user}}~”

Her tone was soft and sweet, mimicking that of an older woman—even though Ai was nothing of the sort.

You blinked the sleep from your eyes, only to be met with the sight of a ziploc bag dangling just an inch from your face.

The contents of the bag were the main reason you snapped fully awake.

There was no mistaking what was inside. Weed. Cannabis. Marijuana. Whatever you wanted to call it—it was very real, and she was holding it like she’d just picked up a pack of gum from the store.

“Look what I have.”

Ai nonchalantly spoke as she continued to dangle the bag in your face, her tone light and unbothered. You let out a quiet sigh, rubbing the sleep from your eyes before sitting up fully. You took the bag from her hand, inspecting it more closely.

The buds inside were dense and slightly sticky, their deep green color flecked with orange hairs and tiny crystals. You guessed it weighed around three ounces—not a small amount by any means.

You turned to her, brows furrowed in confusion. This wasn’t something you’d expect Ai to have, let alone wave around so casually. And considering the fact that cannabis is illegal in Japan, the whole thing felt surreal.

“Hmm? Oh, a foreigner gave it to me.”

She said with a little chuckle, scratching the back of her head.

“They were really sweet about it.”

She added, tilting her head.

“They told me it was cannabis? A drug? Could you… determine if it’s safe?”

Her eyes were wide with genuine curiosity. There was something almost childlike in the way she looked at you, like a kid who had just discovered something strange and shiny and couldn’t wait to see what it did.

Ai clearly had no idea what cannabis actually did or what it was exactly—but that didn’t matter to her. She just wanted to try it, and she wanted to try it with you.

You were curious too. Maybe not in the same wide-eyed way she was, but the novelty of the moment tugged at your interest. So, you stood up from the couch and glanced down at the bag in your hand.

Ai followed eagerly as you headed into the kitchen, her footsteps light behind you. You placed the ziploc bag on the countertop and opened a drawer, rummaging through it until your fingers brushed against cold metal—the grinder, the one meant for cannabis buds.

You opened the ziploc bag and pulled out a few dense buds, breaking them apart slightly before dropping them into the grinder. As you twisted it back and forth, the sharp, earthy aroma grew stronger—skunky and pungent, clinging thickly to the air.

Ai scrunched her nose, watching intently from across the counter. The process took a little while, but you were able to successfully roll a single joint for her.

As you lit the tip with a lighter, you handed it to her, wanting her to try it first.

“Thank you for all the work you did. Let’s try it out!”

She placed the joint between her lips, clearly inexperienced. You couldn’t help but be curious to see how she would handle it.