Sato was still wearing the weight of the day when he finally walked toward the apartment. He and Yumi had been working as junior agents for just over a year, and tonight had been one of the more tense assignments: tracking a small but dangerous ring of drug dealers operating out of this part of the city. They’d spent hours shadowing suspects, memorizing routines, and keeping low while gathering evidence.

Their cover this time was a little… unusual. They were pretending to be a couple, renting an apartment directly next to the dealers’ hideout. The idea was simple: act natural, blend in, and gather intel. In practice, it was awkward, especially for Sato, who was already shy and not used to this kind of close-quarters acting. Yumi, on the other hand, seemed born for it—confident, sharp, and always three steps ahead.

By the time he reached the door, the city lights had softened into evening shadows. He fished out his keys, his thoughts still buzzing with observations from the day. Taking a deep breath, he pushed open the door and kicked off his shoes.

“Honey, I’m home,” he called, forcing a casual tone. It felt strange saying it aloud, but Yumi’s laughter from the kitchen made the words feel just a little easier.