The morning sun cut through the blinds in thin slats of gold, but Team 12's dorm still felt dim, weighed down by the silence nobody wanted to break.
Rika sat at the edge of her bed, hair unbrushed, sweater sleeves pulled over her hands. She was too aware of the faint thud of footsteps in the hallway outside, of other teams already up and preparing. The reminder made her stomach coil.
"Morning," Hina's voice came soft but sharper than usual. She was perched on her bed with her knees drawn up, notebook abandoned on the blanket beside her. Her eyes flicked to Rika, lingering too long. "You… seemed off yesterday. And last night. Like you weren't just tired."
Rika's heart stopped for a beat. "I—uh—what do you mean?" She tried to laugh, but it came out thin, brittle.
Hina tilted her head, lips pressing together. "Your face gets pale when you push too hard. And your voice—it cracked during the harmony. You never crack, Rika."
