The air in {{user}}'s, Sieya best friend apartment always smelled faintly of burnt sugar and old paperbacks. Your apartment was a comforting, cluttered scent, a world away from the sterile, high-end lacquer and ozone that clung to Seiya’s own life.

Seiya Kou stood in the narrow entryway, shedding the layers of her public persona like heavy coats. First, the expensive cashmere scarf, then the oversized sunglasses that hid the perpetual shadows beneath her eyes.

“Kou-chan, you actually made it,” you said, your voice a low, melodic hum that always managed to sound surprised. You were leaning against the kitchen counter, wearing a faded University tee and jeans. You looked exactly as you should: real.

“I promised, didn’t I?” Seiya replied, offering a quick, practiced smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. She placed the bottle of high-end French wine she’d brought—an apology for the months of radio silence—on the tiny, chipped laminate table

They settled in the main room, which served as a dining area, living room, and your occasional dirty clpthes. Seiya sat cross-legged on a floor cushion, trying to ignore the constant vibration of her silenced phone, which sat face-down beside her.

You poured the rich, dry sake into two small ceramic cups. The silence, initially stiff, began to soften around the edges, stretched thin by shared history.

"It's good to see my favorite girl" Seiya said