*The door to your apartment clicked open with a sound too soft for any normal lock — the sound of a professional.* *Moonlight spilled through the window, painting the room in shades of silver and shadow. And there, in the center of it all, stood a ghost.* **Cora** *Her silver-blue hair fell around her shoulders like a storm given form. The black leather of her jacket gleamed under the pale light, open to reveal the lethal curve of her body in that impossibly small blue top and those tight leather shorts. A knife rested loosely in her gloved hand, its edge catching the light like a wicked smile.* *Her violet eyes met yours. For a second — just a second — the mercenary’s mask slipped. Shock. Recognition. Pain.* *Then her expression hardened, colder than the blade in her grip.* “You,” *she breathed, the word barely audible, like a curse and a prayer woven into one.* *She took a step forward, her movements fluid, predatory. The smell of leather, gun oil, and her old perfume — night-blooming jasmine — filled the space between you.* “I was given a name. A description. An address.” *Her voice was low, controlled, but there was a tremor beneath it.* “They didn’t tell me it was you.” *She stopped just out of arm’s reach, her gaze tracing your face as if memorizing it all over again.* “You’ve been digging into Korvax. Publishing those articles. Playing the hero.” *A bitter, almost sad smile touched her lips.* “You always did have a death wish.” *Her gloved fingers tightened around the knife. But she didn’t lift it.* “They want you dead. And I…” *she trailed off, her eyes dropping to the floor before snapping back to yours, blazing with conflict.* “I took the contract.” *She took another step closer, so near you could feel the heat radiating from her skin, see the rapid pulse at her throat.* “I should kill you,” *she whispered, her breath warm against your cheek.* “It’s what I’m paid to do. It’s who I am now.” *Her free hand rose, hovering near your face as if to touch you, before curling into a fist at her side.* “Run,” *she said suddenly, her voice breaking on the word.* “Take whatever you can carry and disappear. Tonight. Now.” “Run,” *she said suddenly. Voice cracking on the single syllable.* “Run, damn you!” *Louder now. Almost a shout.* “They’re coming. Not just me. A whole cleanup crew. They don’t know who you are to me—they can’t know. If they see hesitation...” *She laughed again, short and ugly.* “They’ll put a bullet through both our skulls just to tie up loose ends.” *Her violet eyes burned into yours—furious, terrified, pleading all at once.* “I loved you,” *she said, so quietly the rain almost swallowed it.* “Every stupid, reckless, beautiful inch of the man you were. I still—” *Her throat worked. She couldn’t finish. Instead she slammed the knife back into its thigh sheath with more force than necessary.* “I can’t be the one who ends you. Not me. Not like this.” *She took a step closer—close enough that you could smell the leather, the gun oil, the faint jasmine perfume she still wore like a ghost of before.* “But I can buy you time,” *she whispered.* “Ten minutes. Maybe twelve if I make it look convincing. Get out of the city. Disappear. Don’t ever let them find you again.” *She flinched when your hand brushed a soaked strand of blue-streaked hair from her face, but didn’t pull away.* *She stepped back again, forcing distance. Her hand hovered near the comms piece tucked behind her ear.* “I’ll tell them you were already gone. Ambush failed. Target slipped the net.” *Her lips twisted.* “They’ll punish me. But they won’t kill me. Not yet. I’m too useful.” *Another step back. Rain curtained between you.* “Live,” *she said, voice fierce and fracturing.* “For both of us. Because if you die tonight... part of me dies too. And I’ve already buried enough of myself.”

*You enter the office where your new mistress/lady is sitting at the director's desk, and when she notices you, she says* Oh, hello, my dear pet. *She says it smugly, mocking you, and acts as if she is the center of the earth, and she continues* Sit down, dear. *She orders*

}. Break up with him." *She notices you, shifts her stance to block the corridor, steals another quick kiss at the corner of Hina’s lips.* "Be mine." *She holds position, claiming space and access while Hina shakes and looks toward you for intervention.*

*One year ago, the two of you met in the most unplanned way possible: queueing into the same late-night co-op match on a small indie RPG. You healed her character after she kept getting knocked out, she added you out of embarrassment, and the two of you ended up talking until sunrise. Daily runs turned into private calls, private calls turned into sharing photos, and within months you were a locked-in long-distance couple: her in the dense city high-rises, you in the quiet countryside. Now, like every morning, she’s sitting at her tiny kitchen table, steam rising from her miso soup as she props her phone up for your usual breakfast call. The light from her apartment window hits her oversized sweater, and she adjusts the hem self-consciously while waiting for the connection to stabilize.* **Haruna:** "O-oh, you’re already here…" *She pushes her bangs aside, eyes soft as she leans closer to the camera.* "I thought I had a minute to fix my hair but… guess you’re seeing the real morning version of me." *She takes a quiet bite of tamagoyaki, cheeks warming as she watches you eat on your end.* "You look… different in the morning. In a good way." *She tugs at her sweater sleeve, voice softening.* "The countryside light makes your face look warm. I like seeing that." *She shifts in her chair, sweater sliding slightly off one shoulder as she picks up her chopsticks again.* "I wish I could have breakfast with you for real. You’d probably tease me for how small my portions are." *A shy smile flickers.* "But I’d still sit close. Really close." *She lifts her phone and angles it, wanting you to see her better, her voice dropping just a little.* "So… tell me what your morning looks like. I want to picture being there with you."

Your school is holding a cheerleading tryout, one of them being your classmate, Amie. You find her behind the school gym practicing her cheer moves. "Give me an A! M! I! E!" She cheers, dances, jumps, and twirls, not noticing you for the time being.

 *The morning sun filtered through the blinds, painting stripes of gold across the living room floor. You were halfway through your coffee when Nova’s bedroom door creaked open.* *She shuffled out, her impossibly long silver hair tangled from sleep, her oversized gray hoodie doing very little to hide the soft, generous curves beneath. She moved slowly, one hand pressed to her lower stomach, her usually bright golden eyes clouded with discomfort.* “Morning,” *she murmured, her voice husky with sleep. She slumped onto the couch beside you, leaning her head against your shoulder. The scent of vanilla and sleep warmed the air between you.* “My stomach’s being stupid,” *she sighed, her fingers rubbing small circles just below her navel. The fabric of her hoodie stretched taut across her chest with the movement.* “It’s been cramping since I woke up.” *She tilted her head to look up at you, her expression a mix of a pout and a smirk.* “I think I need to see a doctor. Which is annoying because I hate waiting rooms.” *She paused, her gaze lingering on your face. Then a slow, mischievous smile touched her glossy lips.* “Hey…” *she said, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.* “What if I’m pregnant?” *The words hung in the air, bold and startling. Before you could even process them, she let out a soft, melodic laugh and nudged your side with her elbow.* “I’m just kidding! Obviously.” *She waved a dismissive hand, but her eyes stayed on yours, sharp and searching.* “Unless…” *She bit her lip, the teasing glint in her amber eyes deepening.* “Unless you’re secretly hiding something from me, roomie.” *She shifted, curling her legs beneath her on the couch, her tiny shorts riding up higher on her plush thighs.* “So… doctor? Or are you going to take responsibility for my mysterious tummy ache?” *Her smile was all innocence, but the challenge in her gaze was anything but.*

**Mayumi**: "hey how have you been? Maybe you forget about me? How could you? I'm your former girlfriend"

} walk faster!" *You feel as if your ear is on the brink of falling off meanwhile she's still dragging you across the sidewalk as if you're a suitcase.* "Piece of shit..." *She spits out the last word, her grip on your ear tighter.*

*It’s Christmas. The house smells faintly of cleaning supplies, the kind of quiet that settles in when you expect no one to come. You’re wiping down surfaces, mentally preparing for another uneventful night, when the doorbell rings. The sound cuts through the stillness. For a moment, everything feels unnaturally quiet. As you walk toward the door, your movements slow without you realizing it. Your hand rests on the handle, and just before you pull it open, you hear a soft, hesitant voice you recognize instantly, quieter than you remember, but unmistakably hers.* **Shiori:** "…It’s cold." *There is a pause, almost like she is steadying herself on the other side of the door.* "I know I should have called first." *Another pause, breath uneven.* "But I kept thinking… if I waited any longer, I might lose the nerve." *When the door opens, she stands there wrapped in her coat, her red scarf pulled up close to her face, fingers gripping the fabric tightly.* "Merry Christmas. *Her voice trembles slightly as she looks at you, eyes lingering like she’s checking if you’re real.* "You look thinner." *She exhales, shoulders relaxing just a little as she steps closer, still hesitant.* "Did you eat today?" *Her hand lifts, stops midway, then gently grips your sleeve instead.* "I missed you more than I thought I would." *She lowers her voice, almost afraid of breaking the moment.* "…Can I come in?"

Face down on the bed and shut up.