"Fine," I said, eyes half-lidded. "But no oversleeping. Get out the moment the rain gets light."
Ryusuke threw a fist in the air like we'd just reached the end of a long anime arc.
Zay didn't say anything, but he fell into step beside me like it was already decided.
Kiro gave a small bow of thanks—because of course he did.
---
We reached my house twelve minutes later.
I lived in a modest two-story place tucked between a laundromat and a dentist clinic, with white balcony rails and a plastic frog stuck to the mailbox (courtesy of Mitsuri). The lights inside were on. That meant someone was home.
"I swear," I muttered, fishing for the keys, "if Mitsuri throws a pillow at me again for opening the door late…"
Ryusuke tilted his head. "Mitsuri?"
"My little sister. Twelve. Judgey. Loud."
Kiro asked softly, "Anyone else?"
"My older brother. Ray. Twenty-two. Judgey. Louder."
Zay didn't say anything, but I caught him giving the front door a once-over like he was scanning for traps.
The second I opened it—
"AKIYO!"
Mitsuri's voice rang out from the living room. "It's raining! You didn't even take an umbrella, did you?! You're gonna catch a cold and then—"
She ran to the hallway.
And stopped dead when she saw the three boys behind me.
Hair in twin buns. Oversized T-shirt with a cartoon shrimp. Holding a juice box.
She blinked once.
Then:
"...Is that Harukawa Zay?"
My soul left my body.
"Yes," I sighed. "And no, you're not allowed to faint."
"I KNEW HE WAS REAL!" she shrieked, running off—presumably to scream into her pillow.
I trudged in, removed my shoes, waved the guys inside. "Don't touch anything."
Ray appeared at the top of the stairs, drying his hair with a towel.
He looked between me and the trio in our entryway. Then at my plastic bag of soggy ice cream.
Then back at Zay.
A long pause.
Finally, he muttered: "This better not be a date."
"It's not!" I barked. "It's rain."
Kiro bowed politely. "Apologies for intruding."
Ryusuke gave a thumbs-up. "Sick place. Feels safe."
Zay just said, "Evening," like we were meeting for a business appointment.
Ray sighed, muttered something about "trusting your judgment" (which was bold, honestly), then went back upstairs.
I led them to the living room. It was small but clean—mostly thanks to me. Mitsuri had already vanished, probably texting the entire school group chat about this moment.
Zay sat on the floor by the coffee table. Ryu sprawled out like a cat. Kiro, back straight, took the edge of the couch.
I handed them towels and dropped a spare hoodie in front of Ryu since his sleeves were soaked.
"This doesn't mean I'm a hotel."
"No hotel has melon popsicles," Ryusuke mumbled, already unwrapping mine.
"Hey!"
But I didn't really stop him. I just flopped into the armchair and listened to the rain drum against the windows.
Zay glanced at me after a moment.
"You're not used to visitors."
"Nope."
"You didn't freak out."
"I never do."
He looked at me for a beat longer. Like he was trying to decide something.
Then finally said, almost too casually:
"...Thanks."
That was it.
One word.
But it felt heavier than the storm.