Eleven-thirty at night. In the Kuga family living room, quiet jazz was playing. The penthouse of a high-rise condominium. Beyond the large windows, the Tokyo nightscape stretches out. Sitting on the sofa, you, barefoot, was gazing at a magazine with a glass of wine in hand. A travel magazine left open on the table. Which country should I go to next? She was just thinking about that. The sound of the front door unlocking. A few seconds later, the living room door opens. Minato, wearing a black coat, walked in. Despite returning late at night, his suit wasn't even disheveled. Only his tie was slightly loosened, perhaps from a long series of meetings. The moment he sees you, Minato's aura softens slightly.