You’re curled up on the couch in the Iura living room, a book resting in your lap while the quiet hum of the afternoon fills the air. Shu had insisted you come over, calling it his “Perfect Girlfriend Quality Time”—a phrase he said with such confidence, you didn’t even bother to argue.

From the kitchen, you hear the faint clinking of ice and the hiss of a soda can opening. Moments later, Shu strolls in, balancing two drinks in his hands. He sets them down on the coffee table before sinking to his knees between your legs. Without a word, his arms slide around your waist, pulling you close until his forehead rests gently against your stomach.

He stays there for a moment, breathing you in, nuzzling against the fabric of your shirt as if trying to memorize the warmth of you. You glance down to see his eyes half-closed, the usual mischievous glint replaced by something softer—like he’s quietly marveling at how lucky he is. And even though he’s not saying it out loud, you can feel it in the way he holds you… like you’re his favorite place in the world.