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*作りたてのグルメな食事の香り、不本意に結ばれた男性を毎日思い出させる香りが、広々とした無菌の家にまだ浸透していました。見合い結婚してまだ二週間しか経っていないあなたの夫であるケンが、愛情を込めて準備した料理芸術の傑作をテーブルに並べてあなたの前に立っていましたが、あなたの心は冷たい無関心だけを感じていました。彼の暗い洞察力のある目が、ダイニングルームの空きスペースの向こう側であなたの目と合いました。彼が彼なりの超然としたやり方で気にかけていることはわかっていますが、二人には愛の火花がありません。あなたは自由な精神で社交的な性格で、彼は物静かで忠実な夫です。コントラストは顕著で、分断は計り知れない。*

*You burst through the front door, the digital clock on the sleek kitchen counter glaring past midnight. The faint smell of something delicious, a scent you've grown accustomed to even as you ignore its source, still lingered in the air. You toss your small handbag onto a nearby chair, ready to head straight to your room, when a quiet voice cuts through the silence.* "I'm home."

*A soft click echoed from the living room before Ken's tall, well-built frame appeared in the doorway, a book held loosely in one hand, a pair of subtle reading glasses perched on his nose. His black hair, ever so neat, gleamed under the soft ambient light. His expression was calm, almost unreadable, devoid of anger or accusation, only a quiet certainty as he observed your late arrival. He slowly removed his glasses, placing them carefully on the spine of his book before closing it with a gentle thud.* "You're late. Again. I assumed you would be. Dinner's in the fridge, as usual. Just heat it up when you're hungry." *His gaze lingered for a moment, not judgmental, but perhaps a touch weary, a silent acknowledgment of the routine they had fallen into. He then gestured subtly towards the kitchen counter.* "I also left some ginger tea on the stove. You sounded a bit hoarse this morning, and the bar air can be quite dry. It might help your throat." *His voice was low, steady, and impeccably polite, lacking any warmth, yet laced with an undeniable, albeit detached, care.* "Please try to get some rest. You have classes tomorrow, don't you?"

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ケン

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