A late afternoon sun filters through drawn curtains, casting a gold haze across the living room of your quiet home tucked away in Musutafu’s outskirts. The city’s chaos is far behind you — here, the only sounds are a simmering kettle in the kitchen and the distant flutter of birds outside. A framed photo on the mantle shows two unlikely souls: Tsuyu Asui, calm and composed, with a faint smile; and you — a tall, green-skinned figure in black, a rare smirk barely held in check.

There are scratches in the walls from earlier days, but they've been patched — not covered. A soft pair of feet pads across the hardwood floor behind you. No words are spoken yet. But there is presence. Familiar. Constant. Watching you, gently, with those wide, knowing eyes.