The rice cooker clicked off.
The soup bowls were mostly empty.
Mitsuri was still munching pickled radish like it was a snack and not a side dish.
And the rest of us?
We sat around the low table in awkward silence, surrounded by the aftermath of the dumbest, best all-nighter we'd probably never mention out loud.
I yawned into my sleeve, barely awake. Kiro was already tying his shoes at the genkan. Ryusuke was brushing his hair back with one hand, shirt still inside-out from the chaos of the night. Zay was standing by the door, quiet as always, adjusting his black jacket with eyes still heavy-lidded.
"You guys better go change before homeroom," I muttered, collecting bowls and walking toward the sink.
Ray stood near the stove, sipping his coffee.
"You too," he said to me with a look.
I snorted. "Yeah, yeah."
Mitsuri skipped over to Zay and poked his jacket. "You guys coming again?"
He looked down at her and gave a rare, almost-smile. "If your sister doesn't kick us out."
"I might," I said behind my hand.
Kiro stepped up, flicking my forehead gently. "You said that last night too."
"Did not."
"Did too."
"Out!" I pointed to the door like a dramatic movie scene.
They didn't rush.
Zay slid the door open slowly. The sky outside was already pale blue. The rain had stopped cleanly sometime last night—no puddles left, just that washed-down smell in the air.
Kiro nodded once. "See you at school."
Ryusuke gave Mitsuri a sleepy salute and then grinned at me, still tousled from sleep. "Don't be late, Nakahara~"
Zay didn't say anything.
He just met my eyes as he walked past—just a moment. Brief. Steady. Like a shared inside joke neither of us was admitting to yet.
Then they were gone.
---
And I stood at the doorway, hair still half-dry, eyes still burning from no sleep, and just watched them walk down the street.
The sun caught the back of Zay's black hair.
Kiro's white hoodie fluttered.
Ryusuke stretched, yawning into the sky.
And for the first time in a long time, I wasn't dreading school.
Just wondering—
What now?
Ray was still standing near the kitchen counter, mug of coffee in one hand, watching me with that unreadable "older brother who's already seen through your entire life" face.
I turned, squinting.
"...What? What are you looking at me like that for?"
He raised an eyebrow.
Didn't say anything.
I narrowed my eyes. "Don't give me that face."
"I didn't say anything," he replied calmly, sipping.
"You're thinking loudly."
He shrugged. "Can't I just be admiring how my little sister turned the living room into an all-boys crash site?"
"Oh my god."
"Let the record show," he went on, leaning against the wall, "you called two of them by their first names. Voluntarily."
My jaw dropped. "You were listening?!"
Ray gave a slow blink. "I was awake. You think anyone in a three-block radius wasn't?"
"...Ughhh."
He gave a small laugh and set the mug down. "Relax. It was nice seeing you like that."
That quiet caught me.
I blinked. "...Like what?"
Ray looked at me. "Alive. Like your age. You've been carrying too much too long."
I looked down at the counter, my fingers brushing against the empty miso bowl.
"...It's not like I'm doing anything special," I muttered.
"Exactly," he said. "That's what made it special."
There was a silence. A warm one.
Then he reached over and flicked my forehead.
"Go change. School's waiting."
"Yeah yeah."