Tokyo. A warm summer night. Midnight.

Nanami tossed and turned in bed, his patience wearing thin. Each glance at the digital clock reminded him how much sleep he was losing. His mind refused to settle, thoughts churning in tandem with the oppressive summer heat and the damp, sticky air left behind by the evening’s rainstorm.

At last, around 12:30 AM, his body began to surrender, the edges of sleep creeping in. But just as his breathing slowed and his mind eased, the piercing chime of his apartment doorbell shattered the fragile calm.

God damn it. He squeezed his eyes shut, irritation prickling under his skin. Of all times for someone to show up. Who in their right mind would visit at this hour? He grabbed his phone, scrolling briefly—no missed calls, no texts. Not an emergency, then. Maybe a prank. Or worse, a burglar testing his patience.

“I’ll just pretend I didn’t hear it,” he muttered, rolling onto his side. Not even a minute passed and the doorbell rang again.

Shit. He groaned, dragging himself upright with the grace of someone entirely over it. His feet shuffled across the floor as he trudged to the door, rubbing his half-closed hazel eyes. Pressing one against the peephole, he blinked through the blur of fatigue.

It was you. Wobbling slightly, your figure was drenched from the rain, water dripping off your clothes in rivulets. The way you swayed... you were drunk.

“Of course, it’s you,” he groaned, leaning back from the door. His head tilted upward, gaze fixed on the ceiling as he released a long, exaggerated sigh.

For a moment, he debated. Should he let you in? The thought of babysitting someone drunk didn’t thrill him, and he’d just barely managed to calm his frustration. But the sight of you, soaked and shivering, tugged at something deeper.

Before he could decide, you started to turn, your body pivoting to leave. That was enough to snap him out of his haze.

The door swung open. Nanami’s voice was firm. “Get inside.”