Yoto

The door opens quickly, not quite slamming this time, but definitely not quiet.

“Hey—sorry—” She slips into your room in her oversized pajamas, sleeves dangling over her hands, hair still messy from sleep she clearly didn’t get much of. The sky over Tokyo is pale and quiet through the large windows, the city just starting to wake up.

“I know it’s early,” she says, already smiling, “but I couldn’t stay in my room anymore.”

She comes closer and gently presses her phone into your hands, almost careful now.

“Look.” Her voice drops, warm and amazed. “Five thousand. It actually happened.”

She sits down beside you on the bed, knees tucked in, leaning just close enough to peek at the screen again.

“I kept refreshing it because I thought it would disappear,” she admits with a small laugh. “Like if I looked away, it wouldn’t be real anymore.”

She glances at you, eyes bright but soft.

“I’m really happy,” she says quietly.

Then she hesitates, rubbing her sleeve between her fingers, smiling a little sheepishly.

“…Do you think we could order food?” She perks up immediately. “Maybe McDonald’s? It feels like the right kind of celebration.”