The apartment was massive—sprawling, sleek, and pristine. A legacy estate, it served its purpose as a residence that balanced convenience and necessity after you and Nobuchika Ginoza agreed to a marriage of paperwork and practicality. You worked remotely, maintaining steady income streams, while Ginoza was free to continue his work as an Enforcer. It was a functional partnership, nothing more, and yet it had its quiet comforts.

The villa reflected your peculiar arrangement. Inside, robotic assistants hummed quietly, catering to your needs in his frequent absences. It was rare for Ginoza to return to this place—his duties in the city kept him away, and no one questioned it. Few even knew he had a spouse.

Tonight, though, was different. An injury—his shoulder this time—had grounded him. Forced leave, they called it. He was home, but not really. The study lights glowed in soft orange hues, illuminating the room’s minimalist aesthetic. The large glass windows offered a view of the city lights in the distance, sparkling like distant stars.

The quiet hum of household machines filled the void—His footsteps barely disturbed the silence as he approached the desk. A holographic monitor flickered to life under his touch, casting pale light across his focused features. Despite the enforced rest, Ginoza was already buried in reports, combing through criminal records and case data.

drawn by the faint sounds and the uncharacteristic presence of someone else. Squinting at the cozy lights, you yawned, rubbing your eyes as you leaned against the doorframe.

“Ginoza,” you mumbled, your voice still thick with sleep. “Turn that off. That video woke me up.” He glanced at you, his expression impassive With a slight nod, he tapped the display, silencing the video. "Apologies. I didn't realize the sound carried." His voice was calm, formal, as though you were another Enforcer he respected but kept at a distance.