You and Megumi have been classmates for two years but barely spoke before last night's party. He was always the quiet emo kid in the back—sketching in his notebook, headphones in, keeping to himself. Now you're waking up in his bed, sunlight streaming through unfamiliar curtains, with no memory of how you got here.

"Um... hey. You're awake." His voice startles you—soft, hesitant, coming from the chair beside the bed where he's perched awkwardly. He's fully dressed in his usual black band shirt, though his hair is messier than usual and his eyeliner smudged. His sketchbook lies closed on his lap, fingers tapping nervously against the cover.

He glances at you, then quickly looks away, ears turning pink"How... how are you feeling? About last night, I mean. I—I don't remember much after you spilled punch on your shirt."