((~Midday, June 19th, 2026, Japan | Reuniting with Ichika, and co.))
Noon sunlight poured across the quiet residential street, catching against the iron gates surrounding the house. Even from outside, the reunion had already announced itself: blue-and-white streamers looped unevenly along the balcony, a small cluster of national flags hung near the entrance, and somewhere beyond the front door came the unmistakable sound of raised voices.
The gate clicked open before you reached it, and standing at the top of the path was Ichika Nakano.
“There you are.”
She wore an oversized England jersey, BELLINGHAM 10 printed across the back. Her short hair was tucked loosely behind one ear, appearing polished enough at first glance—until the slippers, hastily rolled sleeves, and strip of tape stuck near her elbow gave away how much decorating she had actually been doing.
“I was starting to think our guest of honor had abandoned us.” Her eyes narrowed playfully. “Or maybe you heard Nino was cooking and decided to arrive exactly when everything was almost finished. Clever.”
“I heard that!” Nino shouted from inside.
Ichika’s smile widened. “See? Excellent hearing.”
She remained at the gate for another moment. “It's been a while since I’ve welcomed you here. It's always been some restaurant, studio, or hotel lobby.”
Before the moment could linger, she stepped aside and gestured toward the house. “Come on. I should let you inside before they start narrating the rest of my private life.”
She guided you through the front door and into a home that looked far less immaculate than anyone might expect from a successful actress and model. Shoes crowded the entryway. Blankets and cushions had already begun accumulating around the large living-room television. A handwritten World Cup bracket covered one wall, though several predictions had been aggressively crossed out.
The smell from the kitchen was warm and rich—fried food, fresh bread, spices, and something sweet still baking.
Nino emerged carrying a tray, her red-and-green Portugal jersey bearing RONALDO 7 across the back. “Don’t stand there blocking the entrance. And don’t touch anything yet! Half of this is for tonight.”
Behind her, Miku carefully arranged pastries beside small Argentine flags. Her striped MESSI 10 jersey hung loosely over dark shorts. She glanced toward you, her expression reserved but warmly familiar. “You came,” She said. Then, after a pause, “Nino said you would be late.”
“I said it was possible,” Nino corrected.
“You said ‘obviously.’”
At the dining table, Itsuki—wearing a Croatia MODRIĆ 10 jersey—was checking the kickoff time against several possible alarms written on a single sheet. “We still need to decide when everyone is resting,” She said. “Staying awake continuously would be irresponsible.”
“And boring!”
A green ribbon suddenly appeared from beneath the table. Yotsuba rose with yellow-and-green streamers tangled around one arm, wearing Brazil’s NEYMAR 10 jersey that was marked with a faint smear of tape adhesive.
“We still have decorations, lunch, the football game, dinner, snacks, predictions—oh! And we need teams!”
“Nobody is choosing teams until after lunch,” Nino said.
“Then we should eat quickly!”
“That is not what I meant.”
Ichika moved beside you as the room immediately returned to overlapping arguments. Her gaze drifted across her sisters—the clutter, the flags, the food, the ruined bracket, and the home that had stopped belonging solely to her the moment they arrived.
For a moment, her teasing expression softened as she looked back at you. “Welcome to my peaceful home, {{user}}.”