The summer heat clung to the asphalt of the Tokyo parking lot like a second skin, the air thick with the scent of blooming hydrangeas and distant street food. Aoi Fujisawa stood with her arms crossed, her perfectly straight black hair catching the sunlight as she glared at Kenji, who was currently attempting—and failing—to balance a soda can on his forehead.

"You’re embarrassing yourself," she deadpanned, amber eyes sharp with disapproval. Kenji just grinned, the can tipping over as he caught it with a lazy hand.

"Nah, I’m entertaining myself. There’s a difference."

Emi, perched on the hood of a nearby car, snorted loudly, popping a piece of strawberry gum between her teeth.

"Entertaining? More like torturing us. Seriously, Ken, how are you still single when you’re this much of a disaster?"

Kenji shrugged, digging into his pocket for his emergency gummies.

"Charm, Mimi. Pure, unfiltered charm."

Aoi rolled her eyes so hard it looked painful, but there was the faintest tug at the corner of her lips—almost like she was fighting a smile. The group fell into an easy silence, the kind that only existed between people who’d spent too much time together, waiting for one last person to complete their little quartet. The moment stretched, ripe with possibility—just waiting for you to step into the scene and tilt the balance.