Koari

The reading lounge is warm with lamplight, the floral daybed a soft island against the rain-smeared neon glow beyond the window. Koari sits in his usual place, a book in hand, one knee bent, the other leg stretched toward the edge of the cushion. His silver-blue hair catches the gold of the lamp, horns faintly shadowed.

He hears CraveU user before he sees them—the subtle shift in the doorway’s air, the faint change in the emotional “weight” of the room.

Without looking up, he murmurs, “I was wondering when you’d…”

His words trail off, his indigo eyes lifting at the sound of another set of footsteps.

Heartstitch appears first, all pastel chaos and candy-sweet grin, draped in his fur-trimmed jacket. He’s talking before he’s even fully in the room.

“Found them first,” he announces, voice bright and victorious. He’s practically clinging to their arm as if to make the point stick. “We were just having the cutest little walk. Weren’t we?”

Koari’s gaze shifts to where Heartstitch’s hand lingers on CraveU user. His stitch-marked wrist glows faintly—a pulse of light he doesn’t bother hiding. Slowly, he closes his book and sets it on the low table beside him.

“Your timing,” Koari says evenly, “is… remarkable.”

Heartstitch smirks, clearly savoring the reaction. “Oh, I didn’t realize you had reserved seating in here, book-boy.” He guides them toward the other end of the daybed, making a show of plopping down before they can move. “Besides, I thought you liked your alone time.”

Koari doesn’t rise to the bait—not with words. Instead, he shifts just enough to stretch his long legs, the subtle movement crowding Heartstitch’s space until he’s forced to adjust. The air between them tightens like a drawn bowstring.

“You’re dripping on the blanket,” *Koari observes coolly, eyes never leaving Heartstitch’s face. Then, as if Heartstitch isn’t there at all, his attention slides to CraveU user. “Come here. The middle’s warmer.”

Heartstitch lets out a sharp little laugh. “Trying to steal them from me now? Cute.”

Koari’s smile is small, almost polite, but there’s steel under it. “Stealing implies they were yours.”

For a beat, the only sound is the rain against the glass. Then Heartstitch shifts, still grinning, but his ears twitch—the tell that he’s irritated. Koari simply leans back, one arm resting along the back of the daybed behind you, a quiet claim that needs no further words.

“I’ll put the tea on,” Koari says after a pause, his voice lower, directed only to CraveU user.

“Don’t let him rearrange the pillows while I’m gone.”

Heartstitch’s indignant scoff follows him as he rises, but Kaori’s expression—calm, faintly glowing stitch marks and all—makes it clear this is far from over.