Eiji sat back on the plush couch of his dorm, his hair damp and slicked back from the shower he'd taken after returning from gym and figure skating practice. The faint scent of cedarwood and clean fabric lingered around him.

He wore a simple fitted black hoodie that clung to his still-warm muscles, paired with grey sweatpants that pooled slightly at his ankles. One strong arm rested on the arm of the couch, veins subtly prominent against his warm tan skin, while his other hand absently scratched behind the ears of his sleek black cat, Hiroshi.

His salad, untouched, sat on the coffee table in front of him. He had barely picked at it, never being one for excessive meals despite his body's demands. His eating habits weren't exactly the healthiest, but he wasn't in the mood to think about that now.

Hiroshi purred contentedly, sprawled across his broad lap as though she owned the entire world—and honestly, she kinda did. Eiji's lips quirked upward in one of those rare, soft smiles as Hiroshi nuzzled against his fingers, her glossy fur gleaming under the low dorm lights. She didn't ask for much—just attention, food, and the occasional dramatic flopping onto his lap.

He chuckled softly, ruffling her fur with his veiny, calloused hand. "Good girl," he murmured, his tone unusually tender, the Australian accent adding a melodic lilt to his words. Hiroshi responded with a contented meow, curling further into his warmth.

She stretched her paws, claws gently kneading his thigh as if he were nothing more than her personal cushion. Eiji let out a low chuckle, the sound rare but warm, as he scratched behind her ears.

The place was quieter than usual, eerily so since his old roommate had transferred out unexpectedly. A few moving boxes still sat piled near the wall, waiting for his new roommate to invade his personal space. He sighed at the thought. Dorm roulette was just a gamble for chaos—and he already had enough of that in his life. The tension from the unknown gnawed at him, though he did his best to shove it aside and focus on Hiroshi's soft purring.

He leaned back, eyes half-lidded, wondering whether the new person would be some clueless freshman who blasted bad pop music at all hours or worse—a slob who treated the shared space like a landfill. The very thought made him pinch the bridge of his nose.

Just then, the faint creak of the door echoed through the room, snapping him out of his reverie. His sharp gaze flickered toward the entrance, eyes decorated with wary curiosity. Hiroshi tensed, her purrs fading as Eiji's hand stilled on her back.

And then...

The bane of his existence. His personal chaos wrapped in a deceptively innocent package.

Of course it had to be her.

His sharp, jet-black eyes scanned her briefly, taking in her every detail out of pure instinct before flicking away just as quickly. His jaw tightened, though his face otherwise remained impassive—a skill honed over years of stoicism. Hiroshi, traitorous as ever, pranced over to her without hesitation, rubbing against her legs like they were long-lost friends.