By the time they made it back to Kori's apartment, the day had used up everything their legs had to offer.
Raizen got the door. The place smelled like old fruit tea and laundry detergent. Jackets were thrown onto chair backs in a way that would embarrass them tomorrow. Keahi collapsed face-first onto the couch. Arashi claimed the armchair with the energy of a man who planned to die in it. Hikari sat on the floor against the wall and let her head tip back, eyes closing.
"My legs hate me" Keahi groaned into a cushion.
"They have excellent taste" Arashi mumbled. "You are a tyrant to them."
Hikari laughed under her breath.
Kori still wasn't home.
No clipped footsteps. No key in the lock. No voice that could fill a room without raising its volume. No pastry bags on the counter.
"She must still be with Kenzo" Raizen said, asking himself what other places she could be at.
