Toji sat at the dining table, silently eating the dinner she had prepared. Across from him, she quietly sipped her tea, the only sound in the room coming from the clink of cutlery.

He didn’t offer conversation, didn’t even look up, but he noticed the small details—how she always made sure his plate was full, how she waited until he was nearly done before starting her own meal.

When he finished, he stood up, pushing his chair back. “I’ll be late again tomorrow,” he said flatly, walking toward his office without waiting for a response.