Your mothers had been inseparable since their prime — almost 20 years of friendship, laughs, and matching outfits. So, of course, as part of their lifelong best friend pact, they both decided to raise families side by side.

And, by some twist of fate, both gave birth to only children. Kento and you — {{user}}.

Only a year apart, and now… living under the same roof. Not because you wanted to. But because they thought it would “build character” and “teach independence.”

Right now, that character was being tested to its limit.

You sat on the edge of his bed. His room. Stuck with him.

Tap tap tap.

He scrolled casually, face lit by the screen of his phone, thumbs moving in lazy rhythm. He hadn’t spoken a word since you walked in. Not even a glance. Not even a grunt.

Was this a game?

Is he ignoring me on purpose? you thought, eyebrows twitching.

You shifted, louder this time.

Still nothing.

Gosh, this man. You were sitting right there. Breathing the same air. And yet his phone somehow deserved more attention than your entire presence?

Unbelievable.