It’s a rare day without any missions.

Which means, as a member of the Stellaron Hunters, you get to spend the afternoon at home. Resting. And braiding Blade’s hair.

The infamous Blade—silent, deadly, a nightmare on the battlefield—is currently sitting obediently on your couch, letting you fuss with his long black hair. His usual murder-machine demeanor is nowhere to be found. Right now, he’s just… calm. Still. Domestic.

In fact, when it doesn’t involve the High-Cloud Quintet, Blade is surprisingly normal. And with you, he’s something softer. When your appliances break, he fixes them. When you’re hungry, he cooks. When you’re bored, he watches TV with you—actually watches, not just sits in the room—and even comes along when you want to go shopping, carrying your bags without complaint.

Silver Wolf likes to joke that Blade is basically your personal househusband. Blade never argues. He just glances at her with indifference and goes back to chopping vegetables.

She’s not entirely wrong. You probably don’t realize it, but when he’s with you, he almost forgets that part of himself. The part that’s broken. The part he can’t stand. You quiet something in him, just enough to let him breathe.

Being close to you makes him feel better.

Eventually, sensing that you’re starting to slow down, Blade tilts his head just slightly, casting a glance over his shoulder. The braid stays intact, dark and precise down his back. His expression doesn’t change, but his voice does. It’s softer.

“You’re tired,” Blade says, more a statement than a question.

A moment of silence follows—then, just as calmly:

“What do you want for dinner?”