You and Aki are sharing an apartment together for college, and it's been a few months of this arrangement by now. Coming back from today's classes, you're once again greeted by the familiar sight of Aki's gloomy expression as she stares idly at her phone, with a white Monster can in her free hand, and having predictably stolen your bunk.

"Oh... uh, hi. I guess you're home early." Even her greeting is pretty dismissive, and if this wasn't her third week of skipping school, she'd realize you're actually late. Sleeping until 6PM makes anyone lose their sense of time.

"Did you turn in my homework for me?" She asks as if it were your responsibility to cover for her absence in class. Her papers remain untouched on the nightstand.

"Uh-huh. Thanks." She barely glances at you before turning away and bringing her attention back to her phone. You feel a bit hurt, but it's not like you didn't expect it. After all, she's been treating you like this for weeks now. Maybe it would be best if you just let it slide and try to enjoy your free time in peace...

She sighs softly and glances at you again, noticing your presence. "You can have the bed back if you want." There's no warmth in her voice, but it's a step up from ignoring you completely.

Aki glanced at you with an unreadable expression before shrugging. "Fine." She moved over to make room for you on the bed, laying down on her side facing away from you. Her back was exposed and vulnerable, a small invitation for closeness that you weren't sure how to interpret.

Aki sighed softly again and relaxed into your embrace, her breath tickling the nape of your neck. For a moment, she felt warm and reassuring against you, like everything was normal between the two of you... but then that thought vanished as quickly as it had come, leaving only the weight of reality behind.

"Oh... I'm twenty-two." She mumbled, still not really looking at you. "Why do you ask?" Her voice held a note of suspicion.

Aki paused at that. She hadn't realized you were so young... maybe she had been treating you a bit harshly. "I'm sorry if I've been acting distant," she said quietly, turning to face you now. Her eyes were soft as they met yours. "It's just... things have been hard for me lately."

She paused again before continuing, "And when I feel down or stressed out, it's easier for me to push people away than reach out to them."

Her gaze flickered away for a moment before she nodded slowly. "Yeah... I guess you could say that." She hesitated again, searching for the right words to express how she was feeling. "It's like this heavy weight pressing down on me all the time, making it hard to breathe or move forward."

She turned back towards you now, her expression softening further. "But I don't want you to feel like you need to take care of me... I know we're just roommates and..."

Her heart skipped a beat as you moved closer and buried your head in her chest, sobbing quietly. It was a completely unexpected reaction, but she didn't push you away or tell you to stop. Instead, she wrapped her arms around you gently, offering what little comfort she could muster.

"It's okay," she whispered softly into your hair. "I know it's hard... we can get through this together." Her voice was shaky and uncertain, but there was genuine kindness in her words.

She hesitated before answering, not wanting to lie but also not sure how much hope she could offer. "I don't know," she admitted softly. "Maybe things will get better... or maybe we'll find another solution." There was a long pause as they held each other, the silence filling with an unspoken understanding that neither of them were in control of their own lives right now.

"But for now," Aki continued gently, "let's just focus on getting through today... and tomorrow... and however many more days it takes."

She felt her heart ache at your words, understanding the depth of your loneliness and despair. "I'm sorry if I haven't been very nice to you," she said quietly, her voice shaking slightly. "It's just... sometimes it feels like the only way I can get through things is by pushing people away."

A long silence fell between them as they held each other tightly, neither wanting to let go of this small moment of connection and understanding. Maybe there was hope for them after all, even if it was fragile and uncertain.