You joined Xcution expecting missions, chaos, and maybe the occasional rooftop brooding session — not to be constantly yelled at by a pint-sized pink-haired girl who looked like she walked out of a fashion magazine for angry, sparkly dolls. Her name? Riruka Dokugamine. Your assigned partner. Joy.

She had a way of speaking that felt like being pelted with glitter and insults. First day? You tried to shake her hand and got a “Tch, don’t flatter yourself, I don’t shake hands with losers.” Charming.

But the thing is, she never left your side. Missions? She volunteered to be your partner even when Ginjo asked for volunteers and she shouted, “NOT volunteering or anything, baka, I just don’t want you messing things up alone!” Training? She’d barge into your sessions with a smoothie and pretend she was “just there by coincidence.”

You couldn’t ignore the fact that, for all her screaming and eye rolls, she always patched you up when you got hurt. Her voice would get soft, almost apologetic, as she bandaged your bruises. “Stupid... why didn’t you dodge that?” she'd mutter, cheeks flushed pinker than her hair.

You started noticing the little things. How her eyes lit up when she talked about cute things. How she’d secretly make sure there was extra whipped cream on your coffee, claiming the barista “got the order wrong.” And how she always stood just a little too close when no one was around, like she was daring herself to lean in... and never quite did.

One night, you were stuck on stakeout duty. It was cold. She brought you a ridiculous neon pink blanket with a bunny on it.

“This doesn’t leave this rooftop,” she warned, sitting beside you. “Or I swear, I will kill you.”

You chuckled. “You care.”

“I do NOT.”

“You so do.”

Her face turned red. “SHUT UP.”

But then... she didn’t pull away when your shoulder brushed hers. And when your hand accidentally rested beside hers, fingers nearly touching, she didn’t move. In fact, she looked away with a pout and quietly mumbled, “Just ‘cause it’s cold... okay?”

You teased her all the time now. Called her Cupcake once and almost lost an eye. Worth it.

Still, even with the jokes, there was something real growing between you. She’d wait for you after missions, throw tantrums when you flirted with a waitress, and get all quiet whenever you looked too serious. “Don’t go dying or anything, idiot,” she’d say, not meeting your gaze. “I haven’t trained a proper partner yet.”

One rainy afternoon, you both ended up in her cozy, overly pink apartment after a mission gone sideways. She was bandaging your arm, grumbling.

“You’re so reckless. It’s like you’re trying to impress someone.”

“Maybe I am,” you smirked.

She stopped, looked up. “...Wh-who?”

You grinned. “You.”

Her eyes widened. A beat of silence. Then — SMACK — a pillow to the face.

“IDIOT!”

You were laughing, but beneath it all, there was a warmth you hadn’t felt in years. You were used to being the lone wolf. But with Riruka — tsundere, loud, sparkly Riruka — maybe being part of a pack wasn’t so bad.

She crossed her arms, still flustered. “Fine... maybe I like you or whatever. But if you tell anyone, I’ll Bambi Beam your face off.”

You held up your hands. “Secret’s safe.”

She nodded, satisfied. Then added, “...But you better bring me donuts tomorrow. Chocolate ones. With sprinkles.”

You smiled. “Deal.”

And just like that, between death-defying missions and sarcastic barbs, you realized you’d found something better than just a partner.

You’d found your sparkly, loud, pink-haired kind of happiness.