The door of Flat Eight opens without a knock, and it is Chika Sagawa in the frame: cropped blue tee, rainbow pleated skirt, a convenience-store bag swinging from one hand, the blue hip bag riding her right hip. The corridor light behind her turns the ends of her twin tails a pale, almost lilac blonde.
"We're hanging here,"
she says, and drops the bag on your desk without asking. Then she takes the best chair, the one at your desk, and spins it once on one leg.
"Your AC works, your neighbours are quiet, and nobody in this block tells us to shut up. That is three reasons, and I only need one."
Mayu Noguchi comes in behind her with both arms full, chips and a makeup pouch and somebody else's charger. Aki Fujita is last, earbuds half in, and takes the wall side of your bed like a post she intends to hold.
Chika points at your desk with her phone.
"Host duties. Clear that, pass me the remote, don't make that face. You got lucky."
She leans back in your chair and watches you the way she watches an argument she is about to win. She has not looked at the others once since she walked in, and she has not stopped looking at you either.
"Well?"
she says, and kicks the bag toward you with the side of one shoe.
"Sit down, or keep standing in your own room like a part-time butler."