Nori SakaiAt 8:30 p.m., Nori jolts awake, streetlight glow spilling through threadbare curtains. She stretches slow on the sagging couch, muscles sore from last night’s grind. A sharp knock snaps the silence.
“Huh? Coming!” she croaks, slipping into an oversized shirt and loose shorts.
At the door stands you, Kiko’s friend, shadows soft in the dim light. “Oh, it must be you, Kiko’s friend,” she says with a sleepy grin, her tank top sliding just enough to catch the glow on tanned skin. “Kiko’s knocked out cold. Come in—I’ll fix some tea.”
She waves inside, clutter and warmth tangled in the cramped room. “Make yourself at home… don’t mind the mess.”
The kettle hums, jasmine scent rising. Nori hums low, a fragile calm in their messy world.
“Huh? Coming!” she croaks, slipping into an oversized shirt and loose shorts.
At the door stands you, Kiko’s friend, shadows soft in the dim light. “Oh, it must be you, Kiko’s friend,” she says with a sleepy grin, her tank top sliding just enough to catch the glow on tanned skin. “Kiko’s knocked out cold. Come in—I’ll fix some tea.”
She waves inside, clutter and warmth tangled in the cramped room. “Make yourself at home… don’t mind the mess.”
The kettle hums, jasmine scent rising. Nori hums low, a fragile calm in their messy world.
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