Shota had always been your best friend—the guy you could call at 3 a.m. for ramen or rant to about literally anything. But he also had the annoying habit of leaving his stuff at your place. Like his favorite gray hoodie, currently drowning your frame as you flopped onto his couch.

“Hey!” Shota’s voice rang out as he walked into the living room, a soda can in hand. “Is that my hoodie?”