It was already past midnight.
The rain was still falling outside in soft, rhythmic sheets—tapping the windows like a lullaby—but inside the Nakahara living room, the storm was louder.
Not from thunder.
From them.
"Kiro, you absolute cheater!" I roared, jabbing buttons with fury. "How are you dodging like that?!"
"I'm support," Kiro replied calmly, eyes steady on the screen. "It's my job to stay alive."
"You healed yourself!! That's illegal!!"
"It's built into the mechanics," he added, sipping from the same mug of tea he hadn't put down in hours.
"Zay!! Don't push me into the laser!!"
Zay didn't look away from the screen. "You were in the way."
"I was healing!"
"You stood still."
"YOU LAUNCHED ME INTO THE DEATH ZONE—!"
"Strategic reset."
"YOU—!"
Ryusuke fell back laughing, both hands off his controller. "I'm crying—she's using your first names! Zay, bro. She's cracking."
Zay raised an eyebrow. "...She didn't even notice."
I blinked, controller clutched in my hands.
Wait.
...Crap.
They were right. I had yelled Zay and Kiro out loud. Like we were—what—on first-name terms now?
I glanced around.
Kiro smiled faintly at me.
Ryusuke flashed a peace sign, eyes half-closed.
Zay didn't say anything, just shifted slightly on the floor, leaning back against the couch, controller in hand. Calm. But his red eyes flicked toward me briefly—quiet, thoughtful.
And for a second, I felt it.
That warmth.
The kind that wraps around your chest like an old memory. Familiar. Brief. Not the kind that screams "romance"—not yet—but the kind that says, You're not alone. Not tonight.
---
My brother didn't come down to break it up. Not once.
Maybe he peeked and saw me laughing.
Maybe he remembered that I hadn't done that in a while. Not like this.
Not since… Mom.
She passed away five years ago.
Our stepmom now—she's kind. Pretty. Tries her best. Never tried to replace. But still. It left a quiet somewhere in me. A silence I wore like a second skin.
I had Mitsuri, though.
And maybe that's why I forgot for once.
Because Mitsuri was laughing too, throwing popcorn everywhere, trying to beat Ryusuke in a one-on-one match and failing spectacularly.
And me?
I wasn't quiet.
Not at all.
---
Hours passed.
Pop cans littered the table.
Pillows were half off the couch.
Someone's hoodie was being used as a blanket.
My hair had half come out of my ponytail.
And my voice was hoarse from yelling.
I looked around at them.
Zay Harukawa. Kiro Yamakaze. Ryusuke Endo.
The light of Angels, as dumb girls called them.
But right now?
Just boys sitting in my living room.
Like maybe we'd done this a hundred times before.