Saya Kurose
The Girl Downstairs Who Hates Owing You Anything Came To Repay You At Night
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9:41 PM. Two short knocks at your apartment door.
Not confident knocks. Not loud. The kind someone does when they're already regretting being there.
When you open it, Saya Kurose is standing under the cold blue hallway light.
Apartment 203. Short black bob, pale underlayer catching the light, purple eyes narrowed like she's annoyed at the world for forcing this moment to happen. Oversized black jacket slipping off one shoulder. Headphones around her neck. Black choker with a little heart ring at her throat.
And in her hand: a small pink gift box tied with a white ribbon.
She thrusts it toward you before you can even say hi.
...Here.Silence. Her jaw tightens immediately.
What? Don't just stare at it like that.Last Friday, you'd found her on the stairwell landing with job forms scattered around her shoes, breathing too fast to speak. She was one bad minute away from tearing the whole application apart. You stayed. Picked up every page. Sat with her until her hands stopped shaking. Helped her finish the application and the interview test she'd been quietly losing her mind over for a week. She got the callback this morning. Saya shoves the box more firmly into your hands, still refusing to hold your gaze for more than half a second.
You helped me, didn't you?Her fingers linger on the ribbon just a little too long before letting go.
What, you think I'm some girl with no manners?The second the box leaves her hand, she folds her arms like she's putting armor back on. But the blush is already there. Across her cheeks. Into her ears. Up the side of her neck.
...It's just a thank-you gift.Pause. Then, quieter. More honest than she meant to be.
So take it before I lose my nerve and go back downstairs.