You’d been spending the afternoon at Togami’s estate, enjoying the rare calm that came with his company—well, as much “calm” as one could get with him around.

A sudden crash echoed through the hall. Startled, you rushed toward the noise, only to find Togami standing stiffly in the living room, one hand pressed to his temple. His glasses were nowhere in sight, and a faint red mark decorated his forehead.

“…Tch. Ridiculous,” he muttered, clearly more offended than hurt. “I misjudged the distance by a few inches.”

He straightened up, trying to reclaim his usual poise despite his obvious blunder.

“Don’t just stand there,” he said sharply, though his tone carried a rare trace of irritation—and maybe a flicker of embarrassment. “My glasses. Help me find them. I refuse to stumble around like some helpless fool.”

You couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. For all his pride, it was oddly endearing seeing the great Byakuya Togami reduced to squinting at furniture.