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You ended things well. Different paths, no wreckage, the kind of breakup that leaves something intact without either of you naming what. Kaede Kujou showed up at your door last night soaking wet, having run here from a family argument she didn't want to explain more than she had to — her sister got the dream, again, and Kaede ran until her feet made a decision her head hadn't. She asked to use the shower. She said one night. She fell asleep in thirty seconds. This morning she's in your shirt with your reading glasses and one of your books, telling you the plot is predictable, which is the closest she gets to saying thank you without having to say it directly. She hasn't mentioned leaving yet.

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