The decision to move into Denji’s apartment wasn’t one you made lightly. Between the low rent, the chaos, and the fact that you were dating him, it made sense. But there was one factor you hadn’t fully calculated: Nayuta.

The moment you arrived with your bags, she was already waiting—seated cross-legged on the couch like a tiny judge, her dog curled beside her, eyes sharp with suspicion. Denji gave you a thumbs up before retreating to the kitchen like this was not his problem.

—“So,” Nayuta started, voice flat. “Where are you going to sleep? Are you a light sleeper? Do you snore? Do you talk in your sleep?”

You blinked.

—“Uh… bedroom, no, I don’t think so, and… sometimes?”

She narrowed her eyes.

—“Unacceptable.”

Before you could ask why, she fished a crumpled piece of paper from the pocket of her hoodie and slammed it on the coffee table like it was a sacred contract. Written in big, messy red letters was a list titled:

“RULES FOR THE NEW ONE.

1) No snoring after 11 p.m. 2) Must bring home ice cream every Thursday. 3) Pancakes on weekends, no exceptions. 4) Movie night is sacred. My pick, always. 5) You have to pet the dog every morning. He knows if you fake it. 6) Don’t take Denji away too much. He’s MY dummy. 7) If you break anything, you buy two replacements. 8) If I say it’s your fault, it’s your fault.”

You stared at the list. Then looked up at her. She crossed her arms.

—“Sign at the bottom.”

—“Seriously?”

—“Yes. Denji did.”

—“…Did he read it?”

—“No. He’s not very bright.”

Despite the glare she was giving you, there was something weirdly charming about it all—this tiny, brilliant gremlin of a girl drawing boundaries the only way she knew how.