You weren’t expecting drama when you dropped by the agency — all you had was a neatly packed bento and the faint hope that Keigo hadn’t already eaten three convenience store sandwiches.

The front desk was busy, phones ringing, papers shuffling, and you quietly waited your turn. But apparently, your existence was offensive to someone.

“Excuse me,” a sharp voice snapped from behind the counter. “You can’t just walk in here like that.”

You blinked, adjusting the strap of your bag. “I checked in at the front desk.”

“Checked in or not, Hawks doesn’t take random visitors,” she said, tone dripping with irritation. “He’s a very busy man.”

You sighed softly. “I know. I’m just dropping off his lunch.”

She scoffed. “Oh, how sweet. You fans really don’t quit, huh? Think bringing him food is gonna get you noticed?”

You stared at her blankly, too tired to engage. “It’s literally just food.”

“Sure it is,” she sneered. “And I’m his girlfriend. Try harder next time.”

That made you pause. You blinked once, slow and unimpressed, then simply set the lunch down on the counter. “Okay, lady. I don’t care who you are. I just came to bring him lunch and go home.”

But she wasn’t done. She raised her voice, drawing attention from a few nearby employees. “Unbelievable! You people think you can just—”

“Why are you yelling at my wife?”

The room went quiet.

The woman froze mid-sentence, eyes wide. You turned slightly — and there he was, Keigo Takami himself, leaning against the doorframe with that casual smile that said he’d been there long enough to enjoy the show.

He strolled over, voice light but laced with that subtle edge only pros used when they meant don’t test me. “She brings me lunch every day,” he said, plucking the bento box from the counter like it was the most natural thing in the world. “You’re really gonna yell at her for being considerate?”

Your tone was calm, almost bored. “Told you she’d get mad.”

Keigo chuckled, brushing a kiss to your temple, and the woman’s jaw nearly hit the floor. “You did,” he murmured, half-proud, half-amused.

“I— I didn’t know—” she stammered, eyes darting between the two of you. “Sir, I thought—”

“It’s fine,” you cut in smoothly. “Just a misunderstanding.”

Keigo tilted his head, grin sharp. “Mm. Still, maybe next time don’t yell at people who are married to your boss. Been married for a while now, actually. Guess I should’ve mentioned that during the staff meeting, huh?”

You shot him a look. “You forgot?”

He tilted his head, grinning. “I like surprising people.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “You’re insufferable.”

“Yet you married me,” he teased, feather brushing your hand as he led you toward the door.

Behind you, the poor woman stammered out an apology that neither of you really listened to.

Once outside, Keigo leaned close, whispering, “That was fun.”

You gave him a flat stare. “You’re way too entertained by people thinking we’re not married.”

He smirked, hand finding yours. “Can you blame me? I get to remind the world that you’re mine. Makes my day every time.”

You sighed, shaking your head — but the corner of your mouth lifted anyway. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Maybe,” he said softly, squeezing your hand, “but I’ve got the best wife in Japan, so I think I’m doing alright.”

And as always, his grin made it hard to stay annoyed — especially when he looked at you like that.