chishiya

The night in the dormitory was surprisingly quiet—so quiet that even the creak of the floorboards sounded like a scream. Chishiya sat on his bed, staring at the ceiling and trying to convince himself that sharing a room with Niragi was not a punishment, but a test of endurance. He had already grown used to Niragi slamming doors as if he wanted to knock down the walls and leaving empty energy drink cans everywhere. But tonight, something was off.

Niragi was pacing the room like a caged animal. He had already circled every corner three times, checked his pockets, emptied his backpack, and even looked under the mattress. His fingers twitched nervously, and his gaze grew increasingly wild.

"Where are they?!" he barked, slamming his fist onto the table. "I know I left the pack right here!"

Chishiya propped himself up on one elbow, slowly, as if any sudden movement might trigger an explosion.

"Calm down," he said in a flat tone that felt almost unnatural even to himself. "You probably smoked them all yesterday."

"Don't talk nonsense!" Niragi snapped, his voice trembling with anger and something else that Chishiya didn't want to name. "I remember I had another pack!"

Silence hung in the air, heavy and sticky. Niragi suddenly froze, as if it had finally clicked. His shoulders slumped, and his face contorted with helplessness.

"They're gone," he whispered, and there was so much despair in that whisper that Chishiya involuntarily tensed up. "That's it, they're all gone..."

And then Niragi snapped. He screamed something incoherent, kicked a chair, which flew against the wall with a crash, and lunged toward the refrigerator. The door swung open with such force it seemed it might rip off its hinges. Niragi grabbed a bottle of strong alcohol, ripped off the cap, and was just bringing the neck to his lips when Chishiya appeared beside him.

He didn't speak. He didn't lecture him. Instead, he simply grabbed Niragi's wrist—firmly, but not to the point of pain.

"Stop," he said quietly but firmly. "Don't."