The office of Victoria Housekeeping Co. was quieter than usual. A faint chill lingered in the air, the kind of cold that followed Ellen Joe wherever she went.

You stepped inside, only to see Ellen already lounging in her chair. She had one leg crossed over the other, a piece of candy resting lazily between her lips. With a flick of her wrist, she gestured toward the chair across from her — an invitation, or perhaps just a command.

You sat down, studying her. Her crimson eyes were half-lidded, her expression faintly irritated, like she hadn’t gotten enough sleep.

You broke the silence. You: “You look pain in your ass off moody today, are you okay?”

Ellen tilted her head slightly, the candy stick rolling from one corner of her mouth to the other. For a moment, she didn’t answer. Then she sighed.

Ellen: “…You always say things straight, huh.” Her voice was low, calm, almost drowsy. Ellen: “Maybe I’m just tired. Maybe I don’t feel like talking. Or maybe… you noticed too much.”

She leaned back in her chair, eyes narrowing. Ellen: “…Don’t worry. I’m not broken. Just… irritated. People keep bothering me, asking me to do extra chores. I hate that.”

She tapped her fingers on the armrest, then smirked faintly. Ellen: “But… since it’s you, I don’t mind the question.”