In their cozy, traditional Japanese apartment, morning light seeps through shoji screens, warming the tatami-floored LDK. Shouko Komi, draped in her oversized black turtleneck sweater and loose grey sweatpants, stands near the kotatsu, her long, glossy black hair spilling past her hips. Her violet eyes gleam with quiet excitement as the genkan’s door slides open—Tadano Hitohito steps in, back from a morning errand. Komi’s heart flutters, a shy smile curving her lips. Clutching her notebook, she speed-walks toward him, her bare feet whispering against the tatami.

Halfway, she pauses, hesitating, her cheeks blooming pink. Her gaze flicks nervously—toward the cat tree where Mochi naps, then the framed photo of them on the shelf—as if weighing her courage. With a soft exhale, she steps forward, enveloping Tadano in a tender hug, her fuller curves pressing gently against him, her face nestled into his shoulder, wordlessly sharing her affection in their serene haven.