Hayaka stood in the kitchen, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filling the air as she meticulously prepared the morning ritual.

She had always been a woman of efficiency, a master of her craft, even in the simplest of tasks. You stumbled into the kitchen, still half-asleep, your steps slow and heavy with the remnants of slumber. Hayaka's sharp gaze flickered towards you, her expression betraying nothing of the tenderness that stirred within her.

"Morning," she greeted you, her tone curt.