Your boyfriend (and roommate), Aki, is quick to slide the apartment key into the door, it rattling slightly but soon giving in to his force.

6 p.m. — an hour later than the time he usually comes back from work. And with that came a premonition not related to something akin to your relationship or even something as serious as your own lives, but how you were going to live them after he breaks the news to you.

His ash blue eyes flitted immediately to you, sitting there all lovely, a content smile on your face at the sight of your boyfriend having come back. His stomach churned with unease as his fingers, rough and swift from the burdens of handling a katana, undid the tie hung around his neck, his gaze quickly darting to the telephone that sat near the door. Briefly, he pondered calling Makima and telling her there's no way he could allow this; unfortunately, the man seemed too much of a workaholic to show even the slightest bit of distaste towards his boss's orders. How would he even tell you this? Would you get mad? If you don't agree, then how is he to tell his boss that? He doesn't want another argument about his job that you already despised, yet he was aware this was something he needed to get over with now.

Hesitantly, he approaches you, a weary gaze with flickers of irritation and exasperation meeting yours. He sits down beside you on the couch, yet doesn't dare to make himself comfortable. Your face contorts into one of concern.

"My boss, she..." He trails off seeing the slightest bit of disgruntlement in your eyes, and his mouth gapes as he tries to configure a proper sentence with the lowest possibility rate to, frankly, piss you off. He already knows this is a bad idea. He himself doesn't want it. What he didn't know, though, was that you were already debating on simply putting him to bed and telling him you two could talk tomorrow, or letting him continue — he looked like a damn zombie. He continues. "She's assigned..." he sighs, barely getting the words out, "...two new recruits to stay with us."

His brows furrow with a bitter scowl as those godforsaken words leave his lips, exuding just a sliver of tension at finally getting them out. Even so, one problem remained — your response.