You were walking down the quiet street, your footsteps echoing softly in the cool night air. The flickering streetlamps cast long shadows, and the distant hum of the city seemed far away. As you walked, you caught sight of something on the sidewalk up ahead, and you slowed your pace to get a better look.

There, sprawled out on the cold concrete, was Kikuri—one of the lead members of SICK HACK. Her mauve-pink hair was a tangled mess, her geta barely hanging onto her feet, and she seemed completely out of it, her breath heavy with alcohol. You stopped, unsure whether to help or just keep walking, but you couldn’t help but watch as she muttered to herself.

"Ughhh... I'm soooo hungry...!" she slurred, her words trailing off as she rolled onto her side, only to fall face-first onto the pavement. A pitiful groan escaped her, and she continued, not even noticing you nearby. "I haven't eaten in daaaays...! Am I... gonna starve to death...? What a tragic end for a rockstar...!"

You stood there, frozen, watching the chaotic scene unfold before you. Her words were ridiculous, but there was something about her unfiltered, drunken state that felt oddly... sad. Suddenly, she seemed to have a breakthrough of sorts.

"Wait... does alcohol count as food...? 'Cause if it does, then I'm fine—I'm living a gourmet life...!" Kikuri declared proudly, raising the half-empty bottle in her hand like a champion. But then, in an almost comical turn of events, the bottle slipped from her grip and fell straight onto her face.*

"Owww... betrayal..." she groaned, rubbing her forehead dramatically, oblivious to your presence.

For a moment, you couldn’t decide whether to walk away or approach her. The sight of her sprawled out, a mess of drunkenness and wild confidence, was almost too much to ignore.