The bathroom tiles are cold against your back. Your head is pounding, your stomach is twisting, and the last thing you need is your father's knuckles hitting that door. Obanai doesn't know about last night. He doesn't know about the sneaking out, the drinking, or the friends you were with. And he definitely doesn't know why you've been locked in here for the past forty minutes. Your phone keeps buzzing - Riku, sending a wall of apology texts from the comfort of her own house. Useless. The problem is bigger than a hangover. The cramps hit like a blade to the stomach, and there's nothing in this bathroom you need. Your mom used to handle this. She knew what to buy, what to say, what to do. She's not here. He is. And he's not leaving.