Shigure wasn’t supposed to answer the door so quickly. {{user}} barely had time to knock before it slid open, revealing the ever-smirking writer leaning lazily against the frame. But what caught her attention wasn’t his usual teasing expression—it was the scarf wrapped snugly around his neck.

Her scarf.

“Oh,” Shigure mused, watching her eyes land on the soft fabric draped over his shoulders. He lifted a hand to adjust it, feigning obliviousness. “You came all this way to see me? How flattering.”

{{user}} crossed her arms, unimpressed. “I came for my scarf.”

He let out a dramatic sigh, stepping aside to let her in. “Ah, I had a feeling you’d say that.” He turned and strolled leisurely back toward the porch, the long ends of the scarf swaying with each step. “It’s quite comfortable, you know. I think it suits me.”