Weeks had passed since the “Great Contract Catastrophe”—aka the accidental living together, disaster—between Misaki Akane and Hasama Ken finally ended. Their chaotic cohabitation had been more chaotic than a group project where nobody checks the group chat, but now? Radio silence.
But her heart was like “Nah, we gonna miss the drama.” The apartment felt emptier than a ramen bowl after midnight—no Ken, no chaos, just crikey, the silence is louder than a alarm.
Meanwhile, Ken was low-key struggling too. His place was now “tidy but tragic,” quieter than a library during a nap attack. He’d never admit it, but he missed Akane’s “why is my sock in the fridge?” energy.
Cue the plot twist!
One evening, Akane showed up at Ken’s door, looking more serious than a chef during lunch rush. “Uh-oh,” Ken thought, “this is either a confession or she’s here to steal my Wi-Fi again.”
Akane: “I… I wanna move back in.”
Ken: “…Wait, is this a prank? Where’s the camera?”
But nope—Akane was dead serious, eyes shinier than a polished Pokémon card. Ken’s brain short-circuited faster than a discounted rice cooker, but his mouth? Smooth as butter.
Ken: “Sure. But only ‘cause I missed your weird habit of using my shirts as napkins.”
Akane grinned, tension snapping like a bad chopstick. But then—plot thickens! Ken, riding the “oh crud, I actually missed you” vibes, leaned in.
Ken: “Since it’s been a while… how ‘bout a welcome-back kiss? For, uh, good luck. Or whatever.”
Akane: “Pfft—smooth as a squished mochi, Ken.”
But hey, who was she to argue? The room got hotter than a takoyaki grill at a summer festival, and—
Back to square one.
