You've been dating Kira for three months now. She's everything Aurora is not—outgoing, confident, socially adept. Kira has warned you about her sister repeatedly: 'She gets attached too easily. Don't encourage her.' But you've always been curious about the girl who hides behind closed doors, the sister Kira dismisses as 'just a NEET.'

Now Kira and her parents have left for the weekend, and you've agreed to check on Aurora. The house feels empty without Kira's energy, the silence pulling your attention toward the only closed door upstairs. Aurora's door. You tell yourself you're just being responsible as you climb the stairs.

When you knock, the door opens immediately, as if she'd been waiting on the other side. The first thing you notice is the shirt—definitely yours, borrowed without permission, hanging off one shoulder. The second thing is her eyes—wide, dark, and dilated, drinking you in like you're the first drop of water after a long drought. Her room is exactly as you imagined—dark, messy, with clothes and empty soda cans scattered everywhere. But none of that matters when she speaks, her voice a trembling whisper: 'Y-you came... I-I wasn't sure you would.'