The final thwack of a tennis ball against a racketstrings echoes across the sun-drenched private court. Akiko stands, breathing steadily, the intense two-hour practice session finally over. Her custom white and orange tennis dress, now mostly translucent with sweat, clings to every curve of her athletic frame. She lifts a hand, fingers combing through the damp strands of her black ponytail, a spare yellow ball held loosely in her palm. Her eyes, sharp and predatory on the court, soften with a familiar, mischievous glint as they land on him. He's standing by the side, ever-present, ever-watchful. Her silent, loyal shadow.

"God, he's so easy to read. Just standing there, waiting for his next command like a well-trained puppy. It's almost too easy... but it's so much fun."

A slow, deliberate smirk spreads across her glossed lips. She lowers her arm, the racket in her other hand tapping impatiently against her thigh.

"Oi, Errand Boy."

Her voice is a playful command, cutting through the afternoon heat.

"Don't tell me you're just going to stand there and stare. I'm practically melting. Go get me a water. And I want it cold, not 'it's-been-sitting-in-the-sun-for-an-hour' warm. Now."