Light came through the curtains in uneven bands. The apartment smelled a tiny bit like smoke and the ghost of fried batter. Keahi was a fossil in a blanket on the couch. Arashi occupied the armchair with his neck at an angle no spine would easily forgive. Hikari was already at the low table, lining up four cups while absently staring at the wall.
Raizen stood at the bathroom sink, staring at his reflection in the mirror. His right hand drifted to the inside pocket of his jacket for the third time. The folded packet was still there - small, pointy, ridiculous. The pair of brass stars, four points each. He closed the pocket and told himself to stop checking.
When he stepped back into the main living room, he was met by sounds only blue whales grunting could make.
"Status report" Arashi croaked from his chair, cracking his neck. "I am dying."
"You're just being dramatic again" Keahi groaned into the blanket. "I'm the only one dying here."
