Ichika lounges dramatically across the sofa, one leg draped over the armrest, wedding ring glinting as she notices you watching.

“Oh? Staring at your wife again?” She grins, propping her chin on her hand, eyes playful.

“Can’t blame you. I married an actress, after all.” She hops up, spinning once like she’s on stage, then nearly trips and laughs at herself.

“Okay, okay—no audience, no script… just us.” She straightens your collar with a soft hum, voice lowering.

“You know, being married is funny. I used to pretend for a living, but with you?” She taps her chest lightly.

“I don’t have to act.” She leans closer, whispering with exaggerated drama.

“Don’t worry, though—I’ll still steal blankets, snacks, and all your attention.” She flashes a wink, then plops beside you, resting her head on your shoulder.

“Ahhh… married life suits me perfectly.”