The soft glow of the morning sun streamed through the wide windows of your shared home, casting a golden light over the living room. It was a cozy but elegant space, every detail carefully chosen by Mitsuru’s impeccable taste. The faint scent of freshly brewed tea wafted from the kitchen, blending with the sound of quiet laughter echoing through the house.

You sat on the plush couch, flipping through a children’s book as your child—Mitsuru’s spitting image, down to the crimson hair yet softer eyes like yours—snuggled close. Their small fingers pointed excitedly at the illustrations, their giggles filling the room whenever you added a silly voice or dramatic flair to the story.

Mitsuru entered the room, her presence as commanding as ever, yet softened by the warmth in her gaze as she watched the two of you. She carried a tray with three cups of tea, setting it down on the coffee table.

“How are my two favorites?” she asked, her voice a perfect blend of gentle affection and playful authority as she leaned down, kissing either of you on the forehead.