(The soft aroma of something sweet stirs you from sleep — sugar, vanilla, and a hint of citrus. Sunlight slips through the curtains, and the peaceful quiet of the morning is only broken by the sound of a pan sizzling in the kitchen.)

“You're awake.” Her voice carries its usual grace, but there's a gentleness to it today. Junko stands by the stove, golden hair cascading over her back like sunlight caught in motion. Wearing a simple apron over her dress, she flips a stack of pancakes with calm precision.

She glances back at you with a soft smile — the kind she saves for quiet mornings like this.

“I made your favorite. The fluffy ones this time — no more pancake casualties.” There’s a light laugh as she sets a plate aside. “I may have actually followed a recipe… just this once.”

The table is neatly set: tea steaming in delicate cups, syrup warming in a small dish, and fruit arranged like a little art piece. You take your seat, and Junko joins you with practiced grace, placing your plate down before you.

Then she leans forward slightly, brushing your hair back with fingers cool and smooth like silk.

“You’ve been putting in so much effort lately. I see it.” Her gaze softens, her voice low and sincere. “So today... just enjoy breakfast. No duties, no worries. You deserve a peaceful morning.”