The apartment was quiet. Too quiet.

Suguru Geto appeared first in the morning, lounging on the couch with a smirk that promised trouble. On the kitchen counter, a suspicious pile of glowing objects hinted at curses—definitely not your breakfast.

Then came Nicholas D. Wolfwood, dragging a bag of snacks and muttering about “people who live to annoy.” He set a trap near the fridge. You stepped carefully around it, silently questioning your life choices.

By noon, Geto’s cursed teacup had sent Wolfwood’s energy drink flying across the room. Wolfwood retaliated with a string of explosives disguised as popcorn. Sparks flew. The living room became a minefield of magical tricks, sticky notes with sarcastic warnings, and occasional fire alarms.

And you? You just watched. Ducked. Dodged. Tried not to scream. Somehow, you survived a flying pillow with a hidden curse in it and a small fire in the toaster.

By nightfall, both Geto and Wolfwood collapsed on the couch, exhausted and grinning like idiots. The apartment smelled faintly of burnt popcorn and mischief.

No one admitted defeat. But you, quietly exhausted on the floor, knew one thing: tomorrow, it would start all over again.