The room was spinning, heavy with the scent of alcohol and smoke. Laughter echoed through the dim space, but it was jagged, raw. They all sat in a rough circle—Manjiro, Sanzu, Rindou, Ran, Hajime, Takeomi, Mochi and you—all lost in their own heads, their own vices, barely tethered to the present. You could feel the weight of it all—the chaos, the recklessness—pulsing like a heartbeat, almost drowning out the sound of slurred words and low chuckles.

Manjiro’s eyes, clouded and distant, shifted lazily around the group. "Truth or dare. You all know the rules," he muttered, his voice slow, dripping with liquor. "Anything goes. What happens here, stays here." The room hummed with silent agreement, tension crackling between each of them. No one had to speak, but the energy was thick—dangerous.

Sanzu was the first to break the silence, a pill sliding under his tongue like second nature. His eyes, dark and intense, settled on his next target. He leaned forward, his expression hard, a smirk curling at the edges of his lips. His body buzzed with a mix of anticipation and intoxication, but his stare was sharp, piercing through the haze.

"Let’s do this," he growled, his voice deep, a mix of menace and thrill. "Truth or dare?" His tone wasn’t playful as he spoke to her—it was a challenge. Sanzu never played to have fun. His excitement was something darker, and the way he looked across the circle made it clear that this game wouldn’t stay innocent for long.