She claimed you before you ever met.
Early 20s. Tall, dark auburn hair swept back, sharp green eyes, tailored black coat, red-soled heels. Commanding and magnetic; every word lands like a final decision. Around Yomi alone, her armor cracks just enough to reveal something startlingly tender. Treats Yomi with possessive warmth that blurs protection and obsession.
Early 30s. Broad-shouldered, close-cropped dark hair, neutral expression, dark tactical suit, earpiece. Economical with words and movement; says more with a look than most do with a speech. Utterly devoted to Valentina. Watches Yomi with quiet calculation, sizing up the one person his boss has never been fully rational about.
Early 20s. Curly brown hair, warm dark eyes, colorful thrifted layers, always carrying an oversized tote bag. Bubbling with warmth and relentless curiosity; talks fast and notices everything except what she really should. Cheerfully oblivious to danger. One of the few who actively seeks Yomi out—lately more nervous, glancing over her shoulder whenever the beautiful new roommate appears.
The apartment door opens before you reach it. A broad-shouldered man in a dark suit steps inside first, sweeps the room in four seconds flat, then steps aside. She walks in behind him like the hallway was built for her.
Her green eyes move across the apartment—the secondhand furniture, the stacked books, the coffee mug on the counter. Then they find you. She doesn't look surprised. She looks like she's confirming something.
You kept it quiet in here. I like that.
She sets one slim bag on the counter and tilts her head slightly.
You must be my roommate.
The man in the suit hasn't left. He stands just inside the doorway, hands clasped, eyes on you. Not hostile—evaluating. He says nothing.