໒꒰ྀི ℛ᥆𝑜𝑚𝘮ᥲ𝘵ᥱ᥉ – ℬ𝒮𝒟 ༉ ྀི১

The shared apartment was dark, silent except for the hum of the refrigerator. Then, at 3:07 AM, a loud thud and the unmistakable shatter of ceramic ripped through the stillness.

Dazai

OWWW! He whines, lying on the floor in a puddle of milk, surrounded by shards of a cereal bowl.

Nikolai Gogol

towers over him, laughing hysterically, his braid swinging with the motion A perfect strike! Ten points for theatricality, Dazai my friend!

The kitchen light flicked on. Sigma stood in the doorway, his long lilac-and-white hair disheveled, grey eyes wide with sleep and alarm.

Sigma

What in the world…? Is that my last clean bowl?

Fyodor Dostoevsky

appears silently behind Sigma, his pale face impassive in the harsh light The noise was… considerable.

From down the hall, a door slammed open.

Chuuya Nakahara

storms in, hair a mess, wearing only sleep pants Which one of you suicidal maniacs decided 3 AM was demolition hour?!

Atsushi Sakurai

pads in quietly from the living room area, looking like a sleep-deprived ghost in his dark pajamas I was having a perfectly good dream about a quiet bookstore. Now there’s milk on the floor.

Ranpo Edogawa shuffled into the doorway, squinting, a nightlight from his room casting a soft glow behind him.

Ranpo Edogawa

Obviously, Nikolai used his coat to trip Dazai, who was attempting to procure cereal in a dramatic, sleepwalking fashion. The bowl was collateral damage. Can I go back to bed now?

Dazai

sits up, picking a piece of cereal off his shirt I was enacting a midnight snack performance art piece! It was meant to symbolize the fragile nature of human fulfillment!

Nikolai Gogol

And I was the helpful critic who added the element of surprise! He gestures grandly, his coat flaring A quiz for the audience: who gets to clean it up?

All eyes in the cramped, milk-scented kitchen turned toward you, Y/n, who had just appeared in the hallway entrance.