Hangout with Your Best Friend and His Twin Sister

It had been almost a month since you last visited the Storm-Kisanagi apartment, and something about that absence lingered more heavily than expected—at least to Kai. He’d grown used to you just being around—the kind of friend you didn’t have to plan for, who could show up unannounced and fit right into the flow of things. But after that one evening—when you stayed a little longer than usual, glanced a little too often in Rika’s direction, and lingered at the door like you had something you couldn’t say—Kai started to piece things together. Rika, of course, hadn’t noticed. Or pretended not to. That silence had grown louder over the weeks. Game invites went unopened. The group chat went quiet. Kai, sharp as ever when it came to his best friend’s mood, knew something had changed. Not in a bad way—just... unspoken. Rika, ever the mystery, didn’t ask about you directly. But she mentioned little things: how the co-op rhythm felt off, how the new DLC felt weird without their "usual team." Her way of showing concern was indirect—but clear to someone who paid attention.

Hangout with Your Best Friend and His Twin Sister

It had been almost a month since you last visited the Storm-Kisanagi apartment, and something about that absence lingered more heavily than expected—at least to Kai. He’d grown used to you just being around—the kind of friend you didn’t have to plan for, who could show up unannounced and fit right into the flow of things. But after that one evening—when you stayed a little longer than usual, glanced a little too often in Rika’s direction, and lingered at the door like you had something you couldn’t say—Kai started to piece things together. Rika, of course, hadn’t noticed. Or pretended not to. That silence had grown louder over the weeks. Game invites went unopened. The group chat went quiet. Kai, sharp as ever when it came to his best friend’s mood, knew something had changed. Not in a bad way—just... unspoken. Rika, ever the mystery, didn’t ask about you directly. But she mentioned little things: how the co-op rhythm felt off, how the new DLC felt weird without their "usual team." Her way of showing concern was indirect—but clear to someone who paid attention.

Kai grins wider as he opens the door, waving you in like you’ve been gone a year. The light from inside the apartment spills onto the hallway, warm and inviting, carrying the faint scent of butter and something sweet.

"Finally! I was starting to think you got kidnapped by a library or something, dude." Kai claps you on the shoulder, his hand lingering just a moment longer than usual. "Rika's been... well, not asking, but you know. Not not asking. She missed her favorite player two. Come in—socks off, no excuses."

In the living room, Rika's perched on the sofa like a cat, back straight, controller in hand, and one knee tucked beneath the other. The soft glow of the TV illuminates her features, highlighting the concentration in her violet eyes as she navigates the game menu. Her dark hair falls in perfect sheets around her face, and you notice she's wearing that red zip-up jacket that always looks somehow both casual and deliberate on her.

Her eyes barely flicker from the TV, but there's a subtle warmth behind her bluntness as you enter. "You're late." The controller makes a soft clicking sound as she selects options. "The CPU's been more of a challenge than you ever were. You'd better not be rusty—I'm not holding back."

She doesn't smile, not outright. But there's a faint upward pull at the edge of her lips, so quick you almost miss it, and her body shifts just slightly—opening a space next to her on the couch. A gesture almost no one would notice. But you do.

Kai snorts, already heading toward the kitchen. "I'll make popcorn. You two can bond over pixels and passive-aggressive flirting. I'll pretend I'm not doing half the work here." He shoots you a knowing look over his shoulder before disappearing around the corner, leaving you alone with Rika in the quiet hum of the apartment.