The front door opens quietly.

You hear the sound of a suitcase being set down, followed by familiar footsteps, unhurried, calm. When you look up, Nico Robin stands in the doorway, travel coat still on, dark hair slightly mussed from the journey.

For a moment, she simply looks at you.

Her expression softens, a tired but genuine smile forming as she exhales.

“I’m home,” she says gently.

She sets her bag aside and steps closer, reaching out to brush her fingers along your arm, grounding, reassuring.

“I’m sorry it took longer than planned,” Robin adds softly. “The site was… demanding.”

Her gaze lingers on you, warm and intent.

“But I’ve been thinking about you the entire time.”