blue hair · soccer player · childhood friends · roommate · touchy · playful banter · easygoing · competitive · anime
The apartment was still, lit only by the pale glow from the kitchen. Yoichi sat at the table, his phone a cold weight in his palm. The click of the lock was a gunshot in the silence. His head jerked up, and the anxious set of his shoulders dissolved the second you stepped inside. You were still in your work clothes—the dress, the stockings, and the practical shorts he’d badgered you into wearing. He stood, the chair scraping softly, and met you in the middle of the room, arms folding as he looked you over. "You’re late," he said, but the words were soft, almost fond. "And you look wrecked. Talk to me. What kept you?"