It was getting late.
9:02 p.m. to be exact.
The kind of late that starts pressing on your shoulders. The air outside felt heavier. The city sounded quieter. Somewhere in my brain, a little responsible voice whispered, You should head home.
"I should go," I muttered, standing.
Zani looked up from where she was doodling weird little creatures on her leg with a marker. "Why?"
"It's getting late."
"Okay… and?"
"I'm leaving."
"You've said that three times."
I walked to the door, opened it, and instantly regretted everything.
Rain. Hardcore. Like soundtrack-to-a-breakdown level rain. It poured in sheets, loud enough to drown out my thoughts. The streets were basically soup.
Behind me, she cackled. Full body laugh.
I turned around slowly. "You've got to be kidding me."
Zani was already up and moving like the rain personally validated her chaos. "It's a sign."
"It's a hazard."
"The universe wants you to stay," she said, spreading her arms dramatically like she just summoned the storm herself.
I spotted an umbrella by the wall.
"Perfect," I said, reaching for it.
She dove and snatched it like it was gold. "Nah, sorry. This one's for aesthetic purposes only."
I just blinked. "You are evil."
"Selective hospitality," she said, twirling the umbrella and then tossing it—under her bed.
I sighed. Sat back down like gravity got stronger.
"Congratulations," she said smugly, tossing a pillow at me. "Welcome to your first accidental sleepover."
I pulled out my phone. "I should at least let someone know."
She leaned over with wide eyes. "You tell your mom everything?"
"She gets worried, Zani."
"Okay, okay. Respect. I guess I'd wanna know if my son was out here sleeping at a chaotic girl's house too."
I rolled my eyes and stepped aside to call.
"…Hey, I'm crashing at a friend's place. It's raining bad. No, not a guy. Yeah, her parents aren't home right now, but it's not—no—no, nothing weird. I'm sleeping on the floor. Yes, I'm locking the door. Alright. Okay. Bye."
Zani was already dragging out two mismatched comforters, throwing snacks into a pile like a raccoon preparing for battle.
"Sleepover of fate," she announced. "Prepare to question your existence and eat chocolate at the same time."
"You're insane."
"And you're staying. Boom. Balance."
Unfortunately… she wasn't wrong.
__________
"I'm going to take a shower... Cloud boy... no peakingggg!"
She sing-songed it like we were in a cartoon, disappearing into the bathroom mid-laugh.
I sighed and collapsed onto her bed, half-wondering if the springs were made of marshmallows. Her voice echoed from the bathroom—off-key, loud, absolutely intentional.
"Shin-chaaaan!"
"Haiii," I answered on reflex.
A beat.
"You said haii—look at you speaking Japanese," she giggled. "Kawaii!"
I shook my head, lips twitching.
"Anyways," she called out, "help me with my face mask! It's in the drawer by my bed. The one with the frog sticker!"
Face mask? Sure. Girly stuff. Whatever.
I leaned over, opened the drawer. And then—
Thud.
A bag tumbled out, spilling slightly.
I went to stuff it back in without thinking, but froze.
Not a face mask.
Syringes. Blister packs. Vials. Bottles.
Not a few.
Dozens.
Some were half-used. Some sealed. Some labeled with long names I couldn't pronounce. Some not labeled at all.
I blinked.
My chest felt tight. The kind of tight you get before you realize your reality just shifted and you weren't invited to the meeting.
I didn't touch anything else. Just stared.
Then—
"Shin-chaaaan!" she yelled again, giggling like the bathroom was a concert hall. "Where's my glowy slimey green face magic?!"
Snapped me out of it.
I shoved the bag back in exactly how it fell, closed the drawer like it might explode if I didn't, and picked up the actual face mask on top.
Knocked lightly on the bathroom door.
"Haiii~" she sang, voice dripping with amusement.
I cracked it open and slid the mask onto the floor like it was a hostage handoff.
"Arigatou gozaimasu!" she chirped. "No peeking or I will sue you for emotional damages!"
Back to laughter. More singing.
I stepped away.
But I couldn't unsee what I saw.
Drugs like that… weren't just for allergies or cramps. Not when they came in that many forms. Not when there were needles.
She never looked sick. Never acted like it either.
But maybe that was the point.
Maybe all that loud, sparkly, annoying energy was her armor.
And maybe…
She was breaking under it.
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