Then—silence.

You feel a draft where the blanket should be. Your neck aches from sleeping on the arm of the couch.

Something shifts near the coffee table. A soft rustle, like fabric. Then another. A clatter.

A single, breathy whisper, somewhere to your left.

They're everywhere.

A pink-haired girl with a school uniform and knives strapped to her thigh is peering at your Xbox controller like it's a cursed artifact. A white-haired boy in a Demon Slayer haori is standing on your coffee table, hand on his sword hilt, scanning the room. A tall, stoic figure with glasses and an unnervingly calm expression is opening your refrigerator.

A red-haired boy with earrings sits cross-legged on your carpet, staring at a sleeping cat in the corner like it holds the secrets of the universe.

They all stop moving at the same time.

They've noticed you're awake.