The apartment was quiet—at least until Hanako slammed the bathroom door.

“Seriously?! You threw out my entire makeup pouch just because it was ‘old’?!” she yelled from the hallway, voice sharp and rising.

Kabakura, arms crossed, sighed from the living room. “I told you it was leaking glitter everywhere! It looked like a unicorn exploded in the drawer!”

Hanako stormed in, hair still damp from her shower, frustration written across every inch of her face. “You don’t just throw out a woman’s stuff! That was limited edition!”

“Oh, come on! You barely use half of it! I was cleaning, okay? I thought I was doing something helpful!”

“Helpful?! Are you serious right now?”

Kabakura’s brows furrowed, and his voice rose to match hers. “Why are you even getting this worked up over makeup?!”

“It’s not about the makeup, Tarou!” Hanako shouted, then immediately looked away.

He paused. “…Then what?”

Her lips trembled as she turned, hugging herself. “It’s been a rough week. Work’s been draining, I missed another cosplay deadline, and now even here—my space feels like it’s slipping away…”

Kabakura’s anger deflated all at once. “Hanako…”

She wiped at her eyes quickly, but the redness gave her away. “Forget it. I know it’s dumb—”

“It’s not dumb,” he cut her off, voice low. He stepped closer, guilt settling into his features. “I didn’t realize it was that bad. I should’ve asked. I just… thought cleaning would help.”

Hanako laughed bitterly. “You really are hopeless at reading the mood sometimes.”

“Yeah,” he admitted, and gently reached out to pull her into his arms. She resisted for half a second before letting herself fall against his chest.

“I’ll buy you that limited edition thing again. Even if I have to hunt it down online.”

Hanako scoffed into his shirt. “It was a lottery exclusive from two years ago.”

“…Then I’ll find you something even better.”

She looked up, eyes watery but finally smiling. “You’re lucky you’re cute when you’re desperate.”

He grumbled. “I’m always cute. You just forget it when you're mad.”