The doorbell rang, its chime echoing through the quiet house, and Ili, still half-asleep and jet-gged from his flight, stumbled to answer it. His body felt heavy with exhaustion, and his thoughts were clouded with the disorientation that came from waking up in a familiar but distant pce. Rubbing his eyes, he pulled the door open, and for a moment, his mind went completely bnk.

  Two figures stood there, illuminated by the afternoon sun streaming in from behind them. One had tousled brown hair and a sun-kissed tan that suggested endless days spent outside, ughing and basking in the heat. The other had jet-bck hair that fell into his eyes, which sparkled with a mischievous glint that could only mean trouble. Their grins were wide and full of life, but Ili's brain struggled to pce them.

  "Yo, Ili!" the tan one—Daiki—shouted, his voice loud and full of joy. Before Ili could even react, Daiki lunged forward and pulled him into a bone-crushing bear hug. "Man, you haven't changed a bit! Still looking like you rolled out of bed five minutes ago."

  The other one, Haru, ughed and stepped in, cpping Ili on the back with just as much enthusiasm. "You really kept us waiting, you know?" Haru said, his smile widening. "We were starting to think you'd never come back."

  Ili blinked, his confusion hitting him like a wave. He struggled to piece together the puzzle in his mind, the names and faces that seemed so close to slipping through his grasp. He opened his mouth, then closed it, feeling his cheeks heat up. "Daiki… Haru…?" he said slowly, the names rolling off his tongue like lyrics to a half-forgotten song. Recognition flickered in the corners of his memory, though he couldn't quite expin why the connection felt frayed. "It's… really good to see you guys."

  Daiki pulled back, his eyes narrowing with mock suspicion. "Whoa, don't tell me you actually forgot us already! You know, we've got some unforgettable memories together. Remember that time at the college festival when—"

  Haru cut him off with a loud, pyful cough, shooting Daiki a look that said drop it. "Hey, maybe save that story for ter," Haru joked, but his voice had a softness to it, a gentle edge that made Ili think he'd missed something important. Haru's eyes met Ili's, and for a second, there was something in his gaze—an unspoken understanding, or maybe a hint of concern. But the moment passed so quickly that Ili thought he must have imagined it.

  Ili tried to ugh, though it came out a little awkward. "Yeah… wild times," he echoed, scratching the back of his neck. It felt like he was standing on shifting ground, but he didn't want to ruin the mood, especially not after just arriving. "So, what have you guys been up to?"

  Daiki's grin returned full force. "Oh, you know, just plotting all the ways we're going to drag you around Tokyo this summer. We've got a whole day pnned, and there's no way we're letting you waste it in here!"

  Haru nodded, his smile growing more mischievous. "Exactly. We're talking street food, arcade games, maybe even some shopping if you're up for it. You better have brought your stamina, Ili, because today's going to be non-stop."

  Ili's confusion gave way to warmth. Even if he didn't remember everything as clearly as he wanted, the sheer energy and joy radiating from his friends were infectious. He grabbed his sneakers from beside the door and quickly slipped them on, the familiar feel of summer adventures washing over him. "Alright, alright, you've convinced me. Just give me a second to wake up properly," he joked, grinning as he stepped outside.

  As they headed down the street, Daiki began to recount stories of things that had happened since Ili's st visit—an over-the-top retelling of Haru's attempt to surf in Okinawa, which had ended in an epic wipeout. Ili found himself ughing along, even as bits of the stories felt oddly disjointed, like pages missing from a book. Haru occasionally gnced at Ili with an almost protective look, but he never said anything, keeping the conversation light.

  They passed by a small bakery Ili vaguely remembered visiting before. Daiki pointed it out with a grin. "Remember this pce? You ate so many melon bread buns that you swore off sweets for a week. Cssic Ili move."

  Ili ughed, though his smile faltered for just a split second. "Yeah… I guess that does sound like me," he replied, his voice carrying a note of uncertainty. His friends noticed but quickly masked their own reactions, slipping back into their pyful banter as they guided him through the familiar streets.

  As they neared the train station, Haru gestured toward a convenience store. "Hey, let's grab some snacks before we hit the arcade. Can't beat summer in Japan without ice-cold drinks and a little too much sugar, right?"

  Ili nodded, feeling a mix of excitement and unease. Something about this felt like coming home, even though it was ced with a feeling he couldn't quite name. Daiki and Haru kept the conversation flowing, their ughter bright and carefree, but there was something unspoken between them—a silent pact not to mention what Ili had forgotten. And for now, that unspoken truth was buried beneath the ughter of a long summer day.

  They started in Shibuya, the famous crosswalk alive with chaos. The lights of countless neon signs flickered above like a psychedelic disco ball, while an enormous screen bred a commercial for the test pop idol group—complete with sparkles, choreographed winks, and confetti explosions. The energy of the city was so over-the-top electric that it felt like it might short-circuit itself.

  "I missed this beautiful madness!" Daiki shouted, throwing his arms wide like he was about to hug the entire crosswalk. He spun dramatically, narrowly avoiding a collision with a sharply dressed businesswoman who shot him a death gre sharper than her stiletto heels.

  "Watch it!" she snapped, clearly unimpressed with his exuberance.

  Haru grabbed Daiki's arm, yanking him back before he became a street pancake. "You're going to get yourself killed—or worse, a wsuit," he muttered, though his smirk betrayed his amusement. "Tone it down, Broadway."

  "Broadway?" Daiki gasped, clutching his chest like Haru had insulted his entire family line. "Excuse me for being passionate about life, sir."

  Ili chuckled, his voice blending into the symphony of honking horns and chattering crowds. "You two really haven't changed. Still the same walking sitcom I left behind."

  "And you," Daiki said, throwing an arm around Ili's shoulders like a long-lost war buddy, "have turned into a proper buzzkill. Look at you, standing there all serious! You're a danger to fun itself."

  Haru raised an eyebrow. "Didn't you just almost maim a woman in the name of fun?"

  Daiki waved him off. "Details, details. Now, gentlemen, behold!" He gestured dramatically toward a line of street food stands, the smell of sizzling meat and fried batter wrapping around them like a warm hug. "First stop: takoyaki. This is how we reignite the spark of friendship!"

  They approached a stand where a vendor expertly flipped octopus balls with a speed that could rival a martial artist. Daiki was the first to snag a steaming pte, his face lighting up like a child on Christmas morning.

  "Watch and learn!" he announced, dramatically popping a takoyaki into his mouth. Mere seconds ter, his confident grin evaporated into sheer panic.

  "HOT! HOT! HOOOOOT!" Daiki yelped, his eyes bulging as he waved his hands wildly like a man trying to swat invisible bees. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he performed a frantic hop-dance that drew the attention of half the street.

  Haru burst into ughter so violent he had to clutch a nearby mp post for support. "You absolute moron! Did you think the ws of physics just wouldn't apply to molten va in your mouth?"

  Ili was ughing so hard he couldn't breathe, his sides aching as Daiki continued his interpretive dance of agony. "You've unlocked a new level of spstick," Ili choked out. "If this college thing doesn't work out, I hear there's an opening for court jester."

  Daiki finally managed to swallow the takoyaki, gring at them like a man betrayed by his own kin. "You heartless traitors," he decred, dramatically wiping away a tear. "I'm here, fighting for my life, and all you do is ugh at my misery."

  "You never learn," Haru said, poking Daiki in the cheek with his yakitori skewer. "Also, that was worth every yen of entertainment. Now hurry up. We've got an arcade to dominate."

  Daiki puffed out his chest, grabbing another takoyaki with newfound determination. "Fine, but mark my words: I'm winning the first round of Street Fighter, and when I do, you two are buying dinner."

  "Big talk for someone who just lost to a ball of octopus," Ili shot back, grinning as the three of them merged back into the bustling crowd.

  They made their way to a nearby arcade, the gss doors sliding open to reveal a chaos of fshing lights, bring game music, and the unmistakable smell of warm popcorn mixed with pstic. Ili's eyes scanned the familiar buzz of his favorite kind of hangout, his lips twitching into a small smile.

  Daiki's gaze immediately locked onto a cw machine loaded with impossibly cute plush toys—giant stuffed cats, anime characters, and a bizarre-looking penguin wearing sungsses. He cracked his knuckles dramatically. "Gentlemen, behold! The pinnacle of human engineering. And I, Daiki the Great, shall conquer it."

  Haru groaned, already leaning zily against the machine. "Here we go. Another great tale of Daiki's legendary fails. Ili, take notes—this one might make it into a comedy anthology."

  Daiki shot him a gre. "Laugh all you want now, fools! But I've been training for this moment. I've watched hours of cw machine tutorials. I'm basically a certified expert."

  Ili stifled a chuckle as Daiki ceremoniously inserted his coin. Gripping the joystick like it was Excalibur, Daiki squinted at the prize pile, muttering calcutions under his breath. "Angle… cw grip… trajectory… Alright, I've got this."

  The cw descended, wobbled slightly, and grabbed onto a fluffy stuffed cat. For a fleeting moment, it looked like a miracle had occurred… until the cw trembled and released the prize halfway, sending it tumbling back into the pit.

  "No!" Daiki wailed, staggering back as if he'd just lost a duel. "Impossible! This machine is rigged! No, it's worse—this is personal. It's anti-Daiki technology!"

  Haru was doubled over, tears streaming down his face as he clung to the machine for support. "Anti-Daiki technology?! That's it. That's the best excuse you've come up with yet. Do you also think the universe is rigged against you?"

  Daiki jabbed a finger at Haru. "Laugh all you want, but the truth is out there! I'll find it! Ili, you must avenge my honor. You're our only hope."

  Ili raised an eyebrow, trying and failing to keep a straight face. "Your honor? From a cw machine?"

  "Yes!" Daiki gestured dramatically at the machine, his voice dripping with urgency. "Retrieve a prize, and restore bance to the world!"

  Suppressing his ughter, Ili stepped forward and slid a coin into the slot. "Fine. But if I win, you're officially banned from bming the machines ever again."

  He grasped the joystick, feeling an odd sense of familiarity, like his hands had done this a thousand times before. The cw descended with mechanical precision, grabbing a small wooden charm shaped like a wisteria flower. To everyone's surprise, it didn't let go. The charm dropped into the prize chute with a satisfying clink.

  Daiki's jaw dropped. "What?!" He grabbed Ili by the shoulders, shaking him. "How did you do that?! Are you secretly some kind of cw machine prodigy?!"

  "Beginner's luck," Ili said, though a faint unease crept up his spine as he picked up the charm. The intricate carving of the wisteria flower seemed familiar, almost like it was waiting for him.

  "Prodigy my foot," Haru chimed in, still grinning. "More like the cw machine felt bad for us after witnessing Daiki's tragic failure."

  Daiki waved them off dramatically. "Enough. My battle here is over. Clearly, the machine recognized Ili as the chosen one."

  As Ili slipped the charm into his pocket, his eyes wandered across the arcade. A fsh of golden hair caught his attention. Near one of the rhythm game machines stood a girl, her back turned to him. Her hair shimmered under the neon lights, like sunlight cutting through clouds. His chest tightened, a flicker of recognition surfacing—before she--"Hey! Earth to Ili!" Daiki snapped his fingers in front of Ili's face. "Did that charm put some kind of curse on you? You're zoning out."

  Ili blinked, forcing a smile. "Sorry, just spaced out for a second."

  Haru cpped Daiki on the back. "Maybe Ili's sensing the anti-Daiki technology. It's too powerful for him to handle all at once."

  "Laugh it up, Haru," Daiki muttered, his tone over-the-top solemn. "But mark my words, I'll conquer this machine someday."

  Their ughter echoed as they moved on to the next set of games. But as Ili followed them, his thoughts lingered on the wisteria charm in his pocket—and the girl with the golden hair. She felt like a piece of a puzzle he didn't even know he was solving.