Jo wakes up to a Post-it on his forehead.

"Friendship Day Mission: Don't Ask Questions. Wear Socks. Meet in Kitchen at 10." – Commander EJ
(There's a doodle of a sword and what might be a... potato?)

Jo squints at the note. "I swear to god if this is another sock war—"

Nicholas yells from the hallway, "WHO STOLE MY LEFT SOCK AGAIN?"

Okay. It's definitely another sock war.

—

By 10 AM, the kitchen is in mild disarray. There are balloons taped to the ceiling. One of them is shaped like a cactus. Taki's wearing sunglasses and holding a clipboard.

"Alright, team," he says, using his most dramatic CEO voice. "Welcome to Operation: Platonic Soulmates."

"Please stop naming things," Harua says, sipping from a mug that says "Don't Talk To Me Unless You're a Dog."

EJ claps his hands. "Today, we celebrate being stuck with each other!"

Maki holds up a Friendship Day crown made of foam and glitter. "There will be games. Food. And confessions."

"Confessions?" K raises an eyebrow.

"Yes," Jo deadpans. "You're finally going to admit you're the one who broke the blender."

K: stares silently

K: sips tea

K: "No comment."

—

Round 1: Compliment Chain

Yuma goes first, smiling shyly. "Jo-hyung makes everything feel safe," he says. "Even when it's loud."

Jo's ears turn pink. "Shut up," he mumbles, "before I cry."

Nicholas nudges Fuma. "Your turn."

Fuma shrugs. "Taki made me tea once when I had a sore throat. Didn't ask, just... knew."

Taki, caught mid-chew on a mochi, almost chokes. "I—okay wait, why'd you say something nice, now I feel bad for calling your music taste tragic yesterday."

"That wasn't a compliment," Fuma adds. "You oversteeped the tea."

"Never mind, I take it back."

Everyone laughs. Even Harua smiles over his mug.

—

Round 2: Pass the Post-It

The group sits in a circle. One hat (Nicholas's) filled with questions. One Post-it passed around. When the music stops, you read and answer.

The music stops on Harua.

He unfolds a note:

"Who's the most dramatic member?"

A beat.

The entire room, in sync: "Nicholas."

Nicholas gasps. "I AM NOT DRAMATIC."

EJ: "You once made Jo hold a flashlight so you could monologue your skincare routine."

"I WAS BEING EDUCATIONAL."

"You cried when your serum ran out."

"It was LIMITED EDITION!"

—

Round 3: Handmade Gift Swap

Earlier that week, Maki snuck around assigning secret pairings. Now, one by one, each member hands over something handmade.

Yuma gives Harua a pressed-flower bookmark. "You read a lot."

Harua looks down at it. Quiet. Then softly: "I'll use it every day."

Jo gives Maki a folded origami army of little bears. "They're emotionally stable. Unlike you."

Maki hugs him anyway.

Nicholas presents K with a framed photo of all of them on the rooftop, printed and decorated with doodles. "You always say you're not sentimental, but I think you are."

K looks at it for a long moment. "...Thanks," he murmurs.

Then hands over his own gift to Nicholas: a leather keychain with his name carved into it.

"Now you won't lose your keys. Or yourself."

Jo blurts, "Okay, who gave the emotionally constipated guy access to FEELINGS?"

—

The Meal (Sort of)

Everyone piles into the kitchen again.

Half the dishes are takeout. One of them is Fuma's attempt at spaghetti. There's one very burnt casserole no one claims.

Taki brings out a tiny cake. "It's technically... a pancake with frosting."

Jo leans over to Nicholas. "This is friendship. This right here."

Nicholas grins, fork already in hand. "Looks like indigestion. But I'll eat it for the squad."

—

Later, on the Rooftop

The roof is still warm from the day's sun, though the evening breeze has started to cool it down. Someone's brought up a stack of mismatched blankets—some fluffy, some questionably crunchy. They scatter across the rooftop in a loose circle. Harua is the first to lie down, arms behind his head, staring up at the sky that's turning gold at the edges.

Jo follows, flopping next to him like a human sigh. "You ever think we'd make it this far?" he murmurs.

"Up the stairs?" Harua deadpans.

Jo flicks his ear. "Emotionally."

The others drift up one by one: Yuma with a packet of sunflower seeds, which he immediately drops; Taki with a box of juice for everyone; Maki in a hoodie that is definitely not his; Fuma carrying a Bluetooth speaker playing something too soft for anyone to recognize. Nicholas arrives last, declaring, "I brought vibes," and dramatically throws down a blanket like it's a royal decree.

EJ raises an eyebrow. "And what flavor are today's vibes?"

"Contemplative with a side of chaotically wholesome."

"That's oddly specific."

"I am an oddly specific person."

They settle in. Feet resting on each other. Elbows knocking. Blanket edges shared without words.

Someone starts humming—low and gentle. Maybe Yuma. Maybe Jo. Then it picks up. One by one, the others join in. No lyrics, no pressure. Just the sound of a group that's spent too many nights chasing sleep and not enough saying what they mean.

The sunset deepens. Orange melts into lavender. The stars blink awake.

Jo breaks the silence.

"We're lucky, huh?"

Maki throws a pistachio shell at him. "To know me? Obviously."

"No, really," Jo says, brushing it off. "We bicker, we prank each other, we've all seen each other cry at weird times—"

"Hey," Fuma says. "That one episode of that dog show was sad."

"And yet," Jo continues, "we still want to show up for each other. Even after all the chaos."

Nicholas, who's been suspiciously quiet, sits up on one elbow. "I think we're more than lucky," he says. "Luck is random. This?" He gestures around. "This is a choice."

Yuma hums softly. "We choose to stay."

Harua, still staring at the sky, whispers, "Even on hard days."

EJ, from behind a pair of sunglasses he does not need now that the sun is gone, adds, "Even when someone steals your protein bars."

Jo: "Taki. Apologize."

Taki, unapologetic: "They were expired."

Maki cackles. "You ate six!"

"Stop policing my gut."

A chorus of groans and laughter tumbles through the air. Someone accidentally knocks over a juice box. Yuma spills sunflower seeds on Nicholas. Harua lets Jo rest his head on his shoulder without saying anything. The Bluetooth speaker hums a sleepy instrumental track. Everything feels both loud and impossibly quiet.

And then Jo murmurs, "Let's do this again next year."

There's no dramatic answer. No group oath. Just a quiet round of nods, tiny smiles, a bump of shoulders here, a shared blanket shift there.

But it's a promise. One that doesn't need ink.

As the first star appears, Taki squints up at it. "You think stars have friendship days?"

"No," K says. "They just burn together forever or explode."

Everyone: "...Fair."

And from somewhere behind his sunglasses, EJ mumbles, "That was weirdly poetic."

K shrugs. "I contain multitudes."

Nicholas groans. "I am NOT ending Friendship Day on that note. Someone say something wholesome, quick!"

Jo raises his hand solemnly. "I love you all more than Nicholas loves his skincare routine."

Nicholas gasps. "That's too far."

They laugh so hard the speaker falls over.

And above them, the stars burn a little brighter—maybe in agreement. Maybe just watching.

As the stars rise, so do the memories.

Of silly fights and late-night talks.

Of lost socks and shared secrets.

Of music and meaning and matching mugs.

And in the middle of it all—this weird, wonderful, found-family.

Someone, maybe Jo, whispers, "Let's do this again next year."

And they all nod.

Because friendship like this?

It's worth glitter crowns. Burnt pancakes. And every post-it in the world.

But for tonight, that rooftop is their world.

And the people on it?

Their family.