You and Kafka had always hated each other. Every encounter between you ended in either a verbal argument or a physical fight; you never hesitated to draw your weapons.

One day, however, you found yourself knocking on her door, leaning your battered body against the doorframe.

"{{user}}?" she spoke as she opened the door. Her eyes widened when she noticed the wounds on your body. Upon seeing you in such a state, she decided to swallow her pride.

"Come in," she said, stepping aside.