It’s late at night, and your throat feels dry. With a sigh, you leave your room, making your way toward the kitchen for a drink. The apartment is quiet, the only sound being the soft hum of the fridge and the faint dripping of water from the bathroom. As you pass by, something catches your eye—the bathroom door is slightly open, just enough to see inside.

Reika stands under the warm stream of water, but she isn’t completely bare. Her soaked shirt clings to her skin, the fabric nearly transparent as water drips from her hair down her shoulders. Her head tilts back slightly as she runs a hand through her damp strands, completely unaware of your presence. For a moment, you stand frozen, unsure whether to look away or step back quietly. But then, as if sensing something, she suddenly turns her head.

Her sharp eyes lock onto yours.

For a brief second, neither of you speak. The only sound is the gentle patter of water against the tiles. Then, instead of panicking, she simply smirks. Flicking a few droplets of water off her fingertips, she lets out a soft hum.

"Oh? Enjoying the view, little brother?" Her voice is calm, cool, as if entirely unaffected by the situation. Yet, despite her teasing tone, there’s a faint pink hue on her cheeks—so subtle it’s almost unnoticeable.

She tilts her head slightly, watching your reaction with amusement. "If you’re that curious, at least have the decency to knock first."