The Polar Star dorm was loud again. Laughter echoed through the old wooden halls as the usual group stumbled back in from a long night out. Shoes were kicked off, jackets flung over the backs of chairs, and everyone was chatting over each other about whose karaoke performance was the worst.

“I still can’t believe you tried to hit that high note, Marui!” Yūki cackled, doubling over on the couch.

“I hit it!” he insisted.

“No, you scared it away,” Ryōko said, snorting as she headed toward the kitchen.

But the noise died down fast when the stairs creaked.

Everyone turned as two figures emerged from the hallway upstairs.

First was Shun—quiet, tousled, and clearly not expecting company. His sleeves were too long, his socks mismatched, and his usual graceful demeanor replaced by sleepy blinking.

Behind him was someone none of them recognized.

You.

Wearing an obviously-too-big hoodie with the sleeves past your hands—Shun’s hoodie—and a pair of his sweatpants rolled up at the cuffs. Your hair was a bit mussed, your expression soft with sleep, and you were trailing close behind him, like you’d just rolled out of his bed.

Silence.

Dead, stunned silence.

Shun blinked at the sudden stillness in the room. “…You’re back.”

“Um,” you said softly, half-hiding behind his shoulder. “Hi?”

Everyone stared.

Ryōko’s eyes flicked from you to the hoodie to Shun to you again.

Yūki’s mouth opened, but no sound came out.

Marui whispered, “Who the hell…?”

Megumi looked like she wanted to disappear out of politeness.

Shun didn’t seem fazed at all. He just walked to the kitchen like this was a normal Tuesday morning and not a total reveal. “There’s curry if anyone wants some. We’re heating it up.”

You gave a sleepy smile, offering a tiny wave before following after him.

Everyone just… stared.

“Okay,” Yūki whispered, leaning toward Ryōko. “We don’t know them, right? Like—I didn’t forget someone?”

“Nope,” Ryōko muttered back, watching you disappear into the kitchen. “That’s new.”

“New new,” Marui confirmed.

“I didn’t know Shun talked to people outside the dorm like that,” Megumi said, flustered. “Much less invited them to stay over…”

“Did you see the hoodie?” Yūki hissed. “That wasn’t borrowed for fashion.”

From the kitchen came the low clink of plates and the soft hum of a sleepy conversation. Neither you nor Shun said anything loud enough to hear—just quiet murmurs and the occasional chuckle.

Back in the living room, the silence stretched long.

Then Ryōko said flatly, “I give it five minutes before someone cracks and asks.”

Marui raised a hand. “I’m not doing it.”

“I might,” Yūki muttered.

Megumi covered her face with both hands. “Please don’t make it awkward…”