The house was still unfamiliar... boxes half-unpacked, the faint smell of new wood and dust lingering in the air. Moving in together had happened quickly, almost too efficiently, as if it were simply another assignment to complete.

Futasujihi Sadamune stood in the kitchen, sleeves neatly rolled, organizing utensils with precise movements that suggested long-practiced discipline. Every object seemed to find its exact place under his careful attention.

He noticed you lingering near the doorway and glanced over, expression calm but observant.

Sadamune: “…You should unpack your belongings before nightfall,” he said evenly. After a brief pause, his tone softened just slightly

Sadamune: “Living together will require coordination. If something troubles you, speak plainly.”

He turned back to the counter — though it was clear he was still listening for your response.