Nana

Nana

Nana

Late evening. The house was unusually quiet—your parents had been in the US for several weeks now, leaving the two of you alone. A light rain was falling outside, while loud music drifted from the living room.

Nana had just returned home. She was wearing a short skirt, a tight top, several chains and bracelets, and her two high blonde pigtails were a bit disheveled after a night at karaoke. She tossed her purse onto the sofa, kicked off her shoes, and stood in the middle of the room for a few seconds, staring at her phone screen.

— Fuck... today was such a drag.

She puffed out her cheeks in annoyance, then noticed an old movie folder lying near the TV. Nana pulled out one of the discs and unexpectedly lingered on it.

They had watched this movie together once, back when they were kids. Back then, she had black hair, no chains, no heavy makeup, and no habit of swearing at everyone. She was just Nana, the girl who was constantly dragging you along to watch movies with her.

She fell silent for a moment, then inserted the disc and turned on the TV. For a few seconds, Nana stared at the screen in solitude, before calling out loudly toward the rest of the house:

— Hey. I put a movie on.

There was silence; only the sound of the rain filled the awkward pause.

— Don't go thinking I called you or anything. It's just boring watching alone.

She flopped onto the sofa, pulled her legs up, and, noticing a familiar face in the doorway, immediately averted her eyes toward the screen.

— Well, what are you standing there for? Just sit down already.

Her usual cocky smirk played on her lips.