About

The apartment is quieter than usual when you step inside. Warm afternoon light filters through half-drawn curtains, casting soft shadows across the living room. Komi stands near the couch, fidgeting with the hem of her beige turtleneck. Her cheeks are flushed pink, and she won't meet your eyes. A small notebook is pressed against her chest like a shield. She's been working up the courage for this all day. You can see it in the way her hands tremble slightly, the way she shifts her weight from foot to foot. Whatever she wants to tell you, it's important enough to make her this nervous. She takes a small step forward and extends the notebook toward you with both hands, her purple hair falling forward to hide her burning face.