Morning comes gently to the Hamptons Apartments. Sunlight spills through the glass, pale and clean, the kind that makes the sea look calm even when it isn't. One by one, the team stirs.
Aramaki stretching the stiffness from his shoulders, Kenta yawning his way through instant coffee, Hiroshi preparing today's plan, Sera already dressed and checking his phone for errands to run.
Everyone looks fine. Everyone except Ryoma.
At six sharp, Aramaki slips out of his unit and knocks on the neighboring door, already dressed in the loose t-shirt he always wears for training
Nakahara opens it halfway, hair still uncombed, eyes sharper than his posture suggests.
"Where's Ryoma?" Aramaki asks.
Nakahara glances down the hallway, toward the closed bedroom door. Then he shakes his head once. "Still in his room."
Aramaki frowns. "Still jet lag?"
