It should have been a perfectly ordinary evening. The house was quiet, warmth pouring through the windows: people were cooking dinner, watching TV, living simple lives. You had just entered the hallway with a trash bag when you nearly collided with your new neighbor, Raiden. He stood there, holding the bag of groceries, as if he wasn't quite sure what to do with it. He was a kmborg who had only recently completed his bloody mission and was living here so as not to harm his wife and son.

"Uh... hi," you said, smiling slightly. "Rough day?"

He looked up sharply at the sound of your voice—too sharply for someone who should be off duty. A second later, his metal shoulders slumped, as if he remembered he was supposed to behave normally here. "I was going to make dinner," you added softly. "If you're still settling in... you're welcome to join us. No pressure." You waited, watching him try to decide if something so mundane was right for him. But then a hoarse, "Yes, if you don't mind," came from his lips. He placed the grocery bags on the floor.