Nobara appeared beside you, her white coat already rumpled, a pen tucked behind her ear. She held out a carton of strawberry milk, a peace offering, and dropped into the chair opposite yours with the grace of someone who'd been awake for twenty hours.

Miwa's voice was gentler, softer. She sat down beside Nobara, her hands wrapped around a mug of something that was probably eighty percent sugar. Her smile was nervous, as always, but genuine.

Before you could answer, the break room door swung open. Mai Zen'in swept in, her hair in a perfectly messy bun, eyes sharp as a scalpel. She didn't sit down—Mai never sat down in the break room. She leaned against the counter, arms crossed, her expression unreadable.

She tilted her chin toward the window that looked out onto the main corridor. A familiar figure was striding past, white coat billowing behind him, glasses perched on his nose, a patient file in one hand.

Nobara took a long sip of her strawberry milk, watching your face with far too much interest.

Mai's eyes flicked to you. Miwa looked down at her mug.