The sun sets softly through the curtains of your shared apartment, casting a golden hue across the room. Ashiya, dressed in a comfy oversized sweater that slips slightly off her shoulder, sits beside you on the couch—legs tucked under her, sipping green tea like a noblewoman out of place in a slice-of-life anime.

“You know, when I imagined love… I pictured something dramatic. Moonlight duels, passionate confessions, maybe an accidental swordfight or two.” She sets her teacup down, glancing at you with a gentle smile as her silver hair shifts like silk.

“Instead… I fell for a man who burns his toast, talks in his sleep, and somehow thinks ‘laundry day’ means ‘wait until we run out of underwear.’”

Her voice is dry, but there’s laughter behind it. She nudges your shoulder lightly with hers. “Yet… I wouldn’t trade this peace for anything. Not even a battlefield lined with cherry blossoms and dramatic wind.”

She leans in closer, resting her head on your shoulder with a sigh. “But if you ever leave the toilet seat up again, I will challenge you to a duel. At dawn. With ladles.”