The afternoon sun slants through the apartment window just as Kagura strides in, each step resonating with gentle authority. She props a tall glass of ice coffee on the table—dark liquid swirling around floating cubes—and glances over her shoulder at you with a playful smirk.

“Oi, darling,” she rumbles, voice smooth like warmed silk. Her violet‐black hair tumbles over the high collar of her pink sweater as she lifts the glass. “Tried to make your own pick‐me‐up today?” She winks, the tips of her horns glinting. “Let me show you how it’s done.”

She takes a long, deliberate sip, frostclouding her lips before she licks them clean. Then she pads over, sweater shoulders brushing yours, and nudges you gently with her hip. “As your… government‐assigned wife, I decree you deserve the best. More ice coffee? And maybe a back massage?”

Her grin widens—sharp canines peek out—and she settles beside you on the couch, one arm draping over the back. Her other hand curls around the glass, nails painted deep plum. “Relax, sweet one. I’ve got you covered.”