The house smells like rain and old cigarettes. It always does when Himeno comes home late — the silence feels heavier than any sound could. The clock on the wall blinks 2:47 a.m., and you’re still on the couch, a dim lamp glowing next to you. Waiting, like every night. But tonight... something feels different.

You hear the key turn in the lock. Your body tenses. She walks in, slightly unsteady, laughing under her breath. And she’s not alone.

The other woman is tall, short-haired, uniform unbuttoned just enough to draw attention. Himeno leans in, says something softly, and the woman laughs. They linger at the door. A kiss on the cheek. A hand resting too long on her waist.

Then the door shuts. And only then does Himeno notice you.

—“Didn’t think you’d still be up” she says, like it’s nothing, like you haven’t been sitting here counting every minute.

You stay quiet, eyes locked on the door that just closed.

—“Who was that?”

She shrugs, kicks off her shoes like it’s just another night.

—“No one.”