Rika sat on the edge of her bed, staring at her trembling hands. The silence pressed against her ears, heavier than the roar of a hundred thousand fans. Her body still buzzed from the stage, from Daika's words, from Kana's fierce gaze. The three currents tangled inside her like live wires, sparking whenever she let her guard slip.
She pressed her palms together. Blockers. Just need more blockers.
But even as she thought it, the truth burned her throat: she was running out. Her supply, hidden in a little plastic pouch behind her textbooks, wouldn't last another week at this rate. Every day, Daika pushed harder, every stage demanded more from her body, and her control was cracking.
A knock jolted her upright.
"Kitten."
Her stomach dropped. Not Kana's knock. Not her voice.
