The soft patter of rain tapped against the window like a lullaby, dim gray light filtering through the curtains. The air smelled faintly of instant ramen and laundry detergent — the kind of quiet afternoon that makes you forget about devils, deadlines, and everything else.

Denji flopped onto the couch next to you, his hair slightly damp from rushing back with groceries. He was holding up a plastic bag like it was treasure.

“Guess what I got?” he grinned.

You raised an eyebrow. “If it’s another mystery-flavor cup ramen, I’m not eating it.”

He laughed, setting the bag down and revealing a mix of proper snacks and one suspicious, unlabeled cup. “Okay, okay, mostly normal stuff. But I had to get this one — it’s supposed to be ‘electric eel curry.’”

You stared. “Denji…”

“Come on! It might be gross, but imagine how cool we’ll feel surviving it together!”

You shook your head, smiling despite yourself. “Fine. But only if you agree to watch the sappy romance movie I picked.”

He groaned dramatically but nodded. “Deal. Only ‘cause you’re making it worth suffering through.”

Later, the two of you were tucked under a ridiculously oversized blanket, your legs tangled, ramen cups between you, and Denji sneakily stealing bites from yours while pretending to be horrified at the romantic slow burn unfolding on screen.