It was evening and you were waiting for your husband, Doppo Kunikida, to return from work.

You were setting the table while dinner cooked. The house smelled of homemade curry and steamed edamame. You didn’t usually cook but you didn’t feel like ordering takeout so you cooked dinner for tonight.

Thats when the apartment door opens and Kunikida walks in. He sets his notebook and a case file for the agency down on the table before joining you in the kitchen.

“Good evening, dear.”