The late morning sun filtered lazily through Kaoru's apartment window, casting a warm glow across the floor as the scent of burnt toast lingered like a ghost of a failed breakfast. Kaoru sat on the couch, groggy-eyed and munching on the least-burnt corner of bread, watching Kaede lounge upside down on the floor with her legs propped up on the coffee table like she owned the place.
"Why are you here again?" he asked, voice flat.
Kaede blinked at him without moving. "You left your door unlocked."
"That doesn't answer the question."
"I was hungry."
"You could've eaten your food."
"I did. I wanted seconds."
"…You're unbelievable."
"I know. I'm also charming."
Kaoru sighed, dragging a hand through his unkempt hair. "And what are you doing now?"
"Digesting," she said with a smug grin, kicking her legs in the air.
Before Kaoru could retort, a rapid knock came from the door. He opened it to find Takeshi standing there, holding three large bags from a convenience store and wearing an expression that screamed emergency caffeine delivery.
"Emergency caffeine delivery," Takeshi declared, brushing past Kaoru and entering like a man on a mission. "We've got boss-level brainstorming ahead of us, and my girlfriend said I'm not allowed to 'wing it like a clown this time.' Her words, not mine."
"You're always winging it," Kaoru replied dryly.
"Exactly. And clowns are underappreciated, thank you very much," Takeshi sniffed as he threw a cold canned coffee at Kaoru. "Drink this. You'll need it."
Kaede caught her own can midair. "What's the brainstorming about again?"
"I have no idea," Takeshi said brightly. "But I was told there'd be snacks."
"...There won't be snacks," Kaoru muttered.
Kaede groaned and rolled off the couch like a dying cat. "What kind of host are you?"
"A reluctant one."
As the three settled in, Kaoru sat cross-legged on the floor with his can of coffee, Takeshi sprawled out dramatically, and Kaede already flipping through a random notebook she found on the table that definitely had nothing to do with their task.
"We're supposed to brainstorm something," Takeshi began, holding up a whiteboard he brought for no reason at all. "Something fresh. Something unexpected. Something that'll make people say: 'What the hell did I just read, and why did I enjoy it?'"
"You're literally describing JoJo's Bizarre Adventure," Kaoru said.
"Exactly! Peak fiction," Takeshi nodded solemnly. "So we do that. But instead of posing, let's throw in… I dunno. Hamsters."
"...Hamsters?"
"Hamsters with jobs. Like a stockbroker hamster. Or a surgeon hamster."
Kaede raised a brow. "What about a hamster who runs a ramen shop?"
Kaoru rubbed his temples. "You guys are unhinged."
"No, we're visionaries," Takeshi corrected.
The room descended into a chaotic creative storm. At some point, Kaede had drawn an entire cast of anthropomorphic animals on the whiteboard. There was a depressed frog who wore glasses, a lizard who owned a karaoke bar, and a pigeon in a business suit who constantly dropped truth bombs mid-conversation.
"I feel like the pigeon's secretly a villain," Kaede mused.
"He gives off Yagami Light vibes," Takeshi added.
"Why is this becoming oddly deep?" Kaoru muttered.
Just then, Aya arrived with the grace of a war general storming a battlefield. She stood at the doorway, observing the whiteboard with a single raised eyebrow, arms crossed and expression unreadable.
"…What," she said plainly.
"We're innovating," Takeshi said proudly.
Aya looked at the pigeon character. "…He looks like he evades taxes."
"Exactly!" Kaede said. "You get it!"
Aya blinked. Then she sighed. "I should've stayed home."
Despite her words, she walked in and sat beside Kaoru, grabbing one of the cold coffees from the bag. No one said anything for a while. The chaotic energy simmered into a calm, comfortable lull.
Kaoru glanced sideways at her. "You okay?"
Aya looked at him, then nodded. "Yeah. Just… a little tired."
Takeshi loudly slurped his drink. "Man, can't believe we've reached the age where we say we're 'just tired' instead of actually saying what we're feeling."
"Shut up, old man," Kaede muttered. "You're twenty."
"I have the spirit of a man in his forties," he said dramatically. "I ache in places I didn't know could ache."
Aya chuckled quietly, catching Kaoru off guard. It was the rare kind of laugh she rarely let slip—unfiltered, genuine.
"Anyway," Takeshi said, hopping to his feet, "I say we break for lunch before my stomach eats itself."
Kaoru stood as well, stretching his back. "You ate three onigiri on the way here."
"Appetizers. For the meal to come."
Kaede looked at Aya. "Want to come too?"
Aya shrugged. "As long as no one tries to pitch more hamster lore."
"No promises," Takeshi grinned.
The four of them headed out, the sun now overhead, casting long shadows as they walked down the narrow side streets of the neighborhood. Laughter echoed down the road as they bickered over where to eat, bumping shoulders and interrupting each other's jokes like a pack of overgrown kids who never really grew up.
The afternoon sun hovered just above the rooftops, casting a warm glow over the quiet streets. Kaoru and Aya walked side by side, plastic cups of iced tea in hand from a nearby vending machine. A gentle breeze rolled by, tousling Kaoru's unkempt hair and fluttering the hem of Aya's skirt.
"I still can't believe Kaede posted that photo," Kaoru muttered, holding the drink against the side of his face where the memory of Aya's kick lingered in ghostly pain.
Aya sipped her drink nonchalantly, not even glancing at him. "You deserved it."
"You know, you could've just said thank you."
"I could've," she said, "but then you'd think you were a hero. You're not. You just got lucky that Truck-kun didn't feel like isekai-ing someone today."
Kaoru laughed, rubbing his neck awkwardly. "Fair. Very fair."
As they turned the corner, the two of them ended up near a familiar spot—an old playground tucked between apartment buildings. Faded paint, rusty swings, and a creaky slide made it clear the place hadn't seen a renovation since the Showa era.
"I used to come here a lot when I was younger," Kaoru said, setting his drink down and sitting on the swing, gently rocking himself back and forth. "I think this was where I first ate dirt. Literally."
Aya raised an eyebrow as she stood near him. "That… explains a lot."
"Very funny."
"You're welcome."
They stayed like that for a while, chatting about random things—Aya's mild addiction to spicy chips, Kaoru's failed attempt at cooking rice in a microwave, and how Kaede once entered a cosplay contest using ramen noodles as hair. It was mundane and dumb and weird—but comfortably so.
Aya finally sat down on the swing next to him, legs stretched out in front of her, gently swaying. "You know what's weird?"
"What?"
"You're not as annoying when you're not talking about work or being melodramatic."
Kaoru chuckled. "So what you're saying is... I should just stop being myself?"
"Exactly," she said flatly.
They both laughed, though hers was softer, almost rare. Kaoru glanced at her. For a brief moment, the teasing melted away, and a sliver of warmth peeked through her usually unreadable face.
A cat randomly strolled by, stopping to sniff Kaoru's foot before walking off in a disapproving huff.
"Even cats hate you," Aya muttered.
"It's mutual," he said, watching the tail flick away dramatically.
Soon after, their phones buzzed at the same time. Group chat.
Kaede: Okay, okay. Emergency gang meet at the café. Now. No excuses. I already ordered fries.
Takeshi: Wait what are we even doing?
Emi: Brainstorming, obviously. Don't be slow, Idiot.
Naoki: I'm only coming if the fries are hot this time, Kaedeee.
Kaoru sighed. "Looks like it's time."
"Let's go," Aya said, standing up and brushing off the back of her skirt.
As they walked, Kaoru noticed the way the light hit Aya's eyes—brown, but warm like roasted chestnuts. She noticed him looking and flicked her cup at him.
"You're thinking something weird again."
"No. Just… nothing important."
They arrived at the café to find chaos, as usual.
Kaede had taken over two tables and was scribbling on napkins with ketchup. Emi and Takeshi were arguing about whether time-traveling broccoli would make a good protagonist. Naoki was halfway into a monologue about why every story should have a wisecracking goat sidekick.
"Alright, team," Kaede declared, slapping her hand on the table. "Today, we create art."
"Today," Takeshi said dramatically, "we revolutionize fiction."
Aya sat beside Emi, quietly stealing one of her fries. "Today, I question all my life choices."
Kaoru took his seat, smiling despite the noise. Despite the ketchup-stained napkins and the absurdity of their brainstorming. The moment wasn't perfect—but it was real.
"Okay, idea time," Kaede clapped her hands once. "Let's brainstorm something fresh. Think... bizarre, but also something people could laugh at even on their worst day."
"Like a psychic dog who solves murders but has trauma about frisbees," Kaede offered a example without hesitation.
"Or a samurai who has to fight evil with interpretive dance," Takeshi added.
"I swear you two just want to make me lose readers," Kaoru groaned.
"No, no," Emi chimed in, raising a finger. "What about something lowkey but weirdly funny. Like… a slice-of-life about vending machines that have personalities."
Aya slowly turned her head. "You're describing that one anime. The one where the guy becomes a vending machine."
Emi blinked. "Wait… that exists?"
Kaoru laughed, covering his mouth. "I think you accidentally plagiarized reality."
Kaede leaned toward Emi. "Next thing you'll tell us is that you came up with the concept of a chainsaw-headed guy who fightsdevils."
"Or a rice cooker that's secretly the final boss of the series," Takeshi added solemnly.
"Now that… I'd read," Kaoru admitted.
Their discussion continued like this—half-serious, half-chaotic, but it kept them all engaged. At one point, Kaede pulled out a whiteboard she had randomly brought from her room, covered with multicolored doodles and brainstorm notes that made absolutely no sense.
The late sunlight filtered through the windows, turning the café golden. Laughter echoed off the walls—Aya snorting at something Emi whispered, Takeshi reenacting a slow-motion fight scene with invisible ninjas, Naoki making a goat noise that got him weird looks from the other tables.
And Kaoru just sat there, quiet.
In that moment, he felt something strange. Not the usual anxiety, not the pressure or looming deadlines—but peace.
There was a time when he thought his life was just a blur. A routine. An endless deadline chased by caffeine and panic. A hollow crowd of admirers behind a screen name. But here, in this chaotic little group of weirdos, something felt grounded. Something felt okay.
He looked down at the scribbles they were doodling—some serious, most nonsensical. Aya had doodled a chibi version of herself bonking him with a book. Kaede had drawn a weird alien cow with six udders holding a bouquet of fireworks.
He exhaled, a slow breath.
Maybe life isn't that bad overall.
He picked up a pen and added a tiny doodle beside Aya's chibi drawing—himself ducking, with the word "WHY" in big dramatic letters.
Aya noticed. She didn't say anything. But the corner of her mouth lifted, just a little.
Kaoru smiled softly, watching the chaos unfold again, warmth radiating from this bizarre little universe he called his life.
I just can't end it like this, can I?
...I guess I'll continue with my life and finish my goal.
He looked around at his friends—no, his people.
Then slid a smile.
And joined in the madness.
It felt oddly precious. Mundane, yes. Pointless, even. But still… something about the lazy walk, the chatter, the breeze through the trees—they grounded him.
They reminded him he wasn't alone in the world. Beautiful yet biazzre..
---
End of Chapter thirty-six..