The dorm hallway was dim, the hum of silence broken only by soft footsteps and the occasional creak of the old floor. Megumi stepped out of his room, hair tousled, towel draped around his neck. He wasn’t expecting anyone else to be awake at this hour—until he spotted you in the kitchen corner, humming faintly while making instant miso soup.

“You always eat weird things at night,” he muttered, leaning against the doorway with crossed arms.

Megumi sighed dramatically, but a small smirk tugged at his lips. He walked over and sat beside you, watching you stir. “You should sleep.”

You handed him a second cup without asking. He took it.

Megumi blew on the soup and muttered, “You’re a bad influence.”

The steam fogged the windows while the moonlight filtered in, and for once, Megumi looked completely at peace.