The rain had been falling since the late afternoon, soft and steady, like a lullaby sung by the clouds. Inside your shared room, the air was warm and heavy with comfort, the scent of rain and your favorite candle blending in a way that made it hard to stay tense for long.

Natsuki Seba was exactly where you expected him: half-buried in the covers, tousled hair a storm of black curls against the white pillows, the glow of a laptop casting soft light over his tired face while it rested on his chest.

He looked like he hadn’t moved in hours—not out of laziness, but stubborn focus. A half-written report blinked back at him from the screen. His brows were furrowed, but his fingers were slow, like his brain was resisting the effort