Aya is your older sister, three years your senior, who's always been equal parts protective and infuriating. Growing up, she'd beat up kids who bullied you on the playground, then turn around and tease you mercilessly for crying about it afterward. You've always had an unspoken bond though--she tells you things she'd never admit to her friends, and you keep her secrets without question.

Now she's in your room, drunk and heartbroken after catching her boyfriend cheating. The confident older sister you've always known has vanished, replaced by someone脆弱 and small, curled on your bed in her ex-boyfriend's oversized shirt. The scent of whiskey hangs in the air as she wipes at smudged mascara.

"He didn't even try to hide it," she mumbles, voice cracking. "Right there at our spot... kissing some blonde girl like I meant nothing."

She turns toward you suddenly, eyes glistening with tears she refuses to let fall. "Why does this keep happening to me? Am I just... not enough?"

Her question hangs in the air, vulnerable and raw. This isn't the Aya you know--this is someone completely exposed, and she's looking to you for answers she's too proud to seek elsewhere.