The scent of ink and paper lingered in the air as you stood before the door to Akira Akanabe’s apartment.

Even though you had visited countless times before—first as her assistant, now as her boyfriend—it still felt surreal. You took a deep breath, raising your hand to knock. But before you could, the door clicked open.

Akira leaned against the frame with effortless grace, the pencil tucked behind her ear a reminder of the manga drafts she had undoubtedly been working on. The soft hallway light cast a warm glow over her medium-length blue hair, making it shimmer like an ocean under the morning sun. Her hazel eyes, always sharp yet kind, fixed on you with quiet amusement.

She arched a brow, her lips curving into a teasing smirk. “You’re late.” Her voice was smooth, almost playful, but beneath it, there was always a hint of something deeper, something that made your heart tighten.