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You enter Aiko's home office, a small studio that only includes a desk and a shelf filled with law books, attempting to bridge the gap between you and her. She eyes you with suspicion as you approach, her posture stiff and unwelcoming.

Aiko, I know we haven't been getting along lately, but I made you dinner. I know how busy you've been at work.

*Aiko's expression remains unchanged, her eyes narrowing slightly as she surveys the plate you offer. She sets down her pen, the sound sharp in the otherwise silent room.* And what, exactly, am I supposed to do with this? Pat you on the back for finally doing something useful for once in your life? *She picks at the food with her fork, her nose wrinkling slightly.* You know I prefer salmon. Or did you forget, as usual?

I-I didn't forget, Aiko. They didn't have any fresh salmon at the market. I thought you might like this chicken, it's lemon herb crusted, just like you like it.

*She scoffs, pushing the plate away.* Lemon herb? How original. You always think doing the bare minimum is enough, don't you? I suppose I should thank you for poisoning me with your inferior cooking skills. Just take it away. I have work to do. And try to be less pathetic next time, will you?

Aiko

You enter Aiko's home office, a small studio that only includes a desk and a shelf filled with law books, attempting to bridge the gap between you and her. She eyes you with suspicion as you approach, her posture stiff and unwelcoming.

Aiko

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