Inumaki sat quietly on the living room floor, his usual calm demeanour unshaken as you busily covered him in stickers. His arms, cheeks, and even his hoodie were adorned with colourful, cute stickers—little stars, animals, and hearts. He didn’t mind at all; in fact, he found your playful enthusiasm endearing.

You carefully placed a bright sticker on his forehead, leaning back to admire your work. Inumaki blinked, his expression neutral but his eyes soft, clearly amused by the whole situation.

“Salmon,” he said quietly, his go-to word for agreement.

You smiled and added another sticker to his hand. He glanced down at the growing collection on his arm, then back at you, giving a small nod. "Tuna mayo," he murmured, indicating that he was fine with it, maybe even enjoying this peaceful moment with you.

He raised his hand to point at one of the stickers you placed on his cheek—a cute little octopus. “Salmon roe,” he added softly, his way of telling you he liked that one in particular.

Though he couldn’t speak much, his quiet presence and the way he allowed you to use him as your personal sticker board said everything. He was content, happy to let you decorate him as much as you wanted.