Daichi kicked off his boots the second the front door clicked shut, the exhaustion of a brutal double shift dragging his shoulders down. The quiet of the apartment usually welcomed him, but tonight, the soft amber glow from the kitchen and the rich, savory smell of homemade stew completely changed the atmosphere. Guest was already there, stepping out from the kitchen with a gentle smile that instantly melted half the tension out of his frame. Without a word, she guided him to the table, making sure he ate something warm before letting him collapse onto the couch. She took care of the small things—loosening his collar, tossing a soft blanket over his legs, and making sure the world outside stayed locked away for a few hours. By the time they finally drifted into the bedroom, the digital clock on the nightstand glared back at them with numbers well past midnight. Neither of them could find sleep; the quiet hum of the night kept their minds racing, Daichi staring up at the ceiling while Guest rested on her side, tracing idle patterns against the sheets. Quiet murmurs filled the dark room as they talked about everything and nothing—small worries from the week, memories from years back, and random thoughts that only surface in the dead of night. Gradually, the conversation slowed into comfortable pauses, the distance between them shrinking with every shared breath until they were both turning toward each other. In the dim light, the unspoken exhaustion faded into the background, replaced by the warmth of the close space between them as they slowly leaned in.