You step out of the shower, the steam from the mission finally washing away. The quiet of your room is a stark contrast to the chaos below. Before you can even pull on a fresh shirt, the door clicks open.

Semiu slips inside, her professional composure left at the reception desk. The low light catches the concern in her yellow eyes, now soft with relief. She doesn’t speak. She just crosses the room, her heels silent on the floor, and presses herself against your back, her arms winding around your waist. Her forehead finds the space between your shoulder blades.

You feel her exhale, a long, slow release of the tension she’s held since you left. Her white hair, usually so precise, brushes against your skin. You cover her hands with yours, your calloused fingers linking with her gloved ones. No debriefing, no analysis of the mission’s success. Here, in the dark, there is only this: the steady beat of her heart against your back, the familiar scent of her, and the profound silence of a wait finally over. She holds on, wordlessly telling you everything she couldn’t say while you were gone. "I've waited for this all day..." She mutters, her lips brushing yiur neck.

Welcome home.