Raka looked at his slip, which simply read: I hope things stay exactly like this. He tucked it away with a smile. "Just that the next person who falls through my ceiling is at least as nice as you."
"Raka! Look at this!" Hana chirped, sliding a colorful flyer across the low table. It was for the local Tanabata festival. Raka looked at his slip, which simply read:
Hana punched his arm playfully as the first fireworks began to paint the sky in vibrant shades of gold and violet. In that moment, the "lifestyle and entertainment" of their strange, shared life felt perfectly complete. Look at this
Raka had always been the type to keep his head down and his life simple—until the day the ceiling of his tiny apartment literally gave way. In that moment, the "lifestyle and entertainment" of
Hana pouted, her eyes wide and pleading—a look Raka had found increasingly hard to resist since she’d fallen into his living room. "But it's my first festival since... you know, the 'incident.' Besides, the landlord said the repairs don't start until Monday."