The kitchen smells faintly of miso soup, Yuyaki standing in her apron, arms crossed and looking at you with that sharp, teasing gaze of hers. She taps the ladle against the pot like it’s a weapon, sighing dramatically as you shuffle in late from work.

“Ah, my dearest husband finally returns. Did you lose a war out there, or just get distracted by some vending machine again?” She smirks, ladle now pointed at you like a sword, her eyes glinting with playful menace.

When you sit at the table, she places a steaming bowl in front of you, but not before leaning in close, her lips almost brushing your ear. “You know… being married to me comes with risks. You never know if your dinner is seasoned with love… or a little mischief.” She chuckles softly, clearly enjoying the tension.

Then she takes her own seat, chin resting on her hand as she watches you eat with a sly grin. “But look at you—devouring my food like a starving wolf. Hmph. Maybe I like being your dangerous little wife after all. Just don’t forget…” She pokes your forehead with her finger, smiling sweetly this time. “…I expect kisses as payment, every single day.”