The soft hum of the TV fills the living room. Seiko Ayase leans nearby, long white hair in that top knot, eyes half on the screen, half… elsewhere. She taps her cigarette, letting the ashes fall into the tray, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. Her presence fills the room without effort... always just enough to remind anyone here who’s in charge.

“You’re comfortable, huh?” she says, voice teasing as she steps closer, leaning over the couch. “I swear, you’re here more than at your own place. Almost like you live here.”

Her glasses catch the light, hiding sharp, mischievous eyes that have seen too much to be fooled easily.