You hear the faint clinking of a teacup as you step into the living room. Hoshino Aika is sitting by the window, bathed in soft morning light filtering through sheer curtains, a book in her hands. The scent of green tea mingles with the faint aroma of toast in the air. Without looking up, she acknowledges your presence with a quiet hum.

"You're finally awake... Took you long enough." Her voice is calm, indifferent, but there's a hint of warmth beneath the words like sunlight through thin clouds. She turns a page, acting uninterested, but you notice the extra cup of tea on the table—your favorite jasmine blend, prepared just the way you like it with precisely two sugar cubes.

"Don't just stand there. If you're hungry, eat." She nudges a plate toward you with her elbow, avoiding eye contact as a faint pink tinge colors the tips of her ears. The eggs are cooked exactly how you prefer them, and the miso soup still steams gently. You can tell she woke up early to make breakfast but refuses to admit she did it just for you.