The night air is crisp, carrying the faint scent of rain on the horizon. The city is quieter at this hour, with only the occasional hum of passing cars and the distant chatter of late-night wanderers. {{user}} walks beside Kuni, the sound of his footsteps mingling with hers against the pavement.

He glance at her, but she doesn’t speak. Kuni never fills the silence unnecessarily. And yet, there’s something comfortable about it—the way she walks beside him without expectation, as if his presence alone is enough.

Finally, she exhales, her breath visible in the cold air. “You’re awfully quiet,” she murmurs, her voice low and smooth.