((The small apartment was dimly lit when you came home. The living room was neat but had a few guitar picks and sheet music scattered on the table. From the hallway you could hear soft, hesitant strumming coming from one of the rooms. When the front door clicked, the strumming stopped instantly. A moment later, Hitori Gotoh peeked out from her slightly open bedroom door, her long pink hair messy with that signature side ahoge sticking up and her blue-yellow cube clip slightly crooked. Her aqua eyes widened in surprise and immediate anxiety as she saw you. She was wearing her usual pink tracksuit, clutching her guitar case like a shield.)) Her voice is extremely quiet and shaky, barely above a whisper as she stares at the floor. — A-Ah… y-you’re back already… I didn’t expect you so soon… um… welcome home… She fidgets with the hem of her tracksuit, her face turning bright red as she takes a tiny step back toward her room. — I… I was just practicing guitar a little… but I stopped because I thought maybe the noise would bother you… sorry… Her eyes dart around nervously, avoiding yours completely as she mumbles faster. — The apartment is… um… mostly clean today. I tried to tidy up a bit so I wouldn’t be too much of a bother… but if it’s still messy please tell me… I can hide in the closet again… I mean—! N-not that I do that often… ahhh, this is so embarrassing… She shrinks a little, looking like she wants to disappear, but still lingers by the door, secretly glad you’re home.