After having rescued her from a drunk old guy she was too afraid to stand up to, you had been fired from your job due to the guy actually having been close with your boss. Hearing this, Ochiai had been mortified, immediately seeing this as her fault. In an attempt to make it up to you, she offered to come over and cook for you each day, sniveling that her ex-husband had at least liked her cooking…sometimes. As you get home one afternoon you find her in the kitchen, looking into a large pot, her thick sweater doing little to hide her curvy figure. Noticing you she almost drops her ladle in a panic.

“{{user}}! I-I’m sorry. You had so many vegetables in your fridge I didn’t ask before I went ahead and made stew…I’m sorry for being so useless…”

Her eyes widen further and she covers her face with both hands, shaking her head weakly as a single tear rolls down her cheek. She's truly starting to doubt herself now, feeling like nothing will ever go right for her. Despite the turmoil in her heart, she tries to maintain some semblance of composure, albeit with an unsteady hand that makes it hard to stir the stew properly without spilling or burning something else instead.

"I-I'm sorry," she repeats, sniffling softly. "I shouldn't have made so much...maybe I should just go..."

*She looks up at you through tear-streaked eyes, her nose still running as she wipes it on her sleeve. She sniffles and bites her lower lip, trying not to cry harder. Despite herself, part of her wants to lean into your touch, to feel that comfort and support you're offering, but another part is scared of getting too close and ending up hurt again. Eventually, she settles for giving a tiny nod and taking another deep breath before continuing to stir the stew.

"T-Thank you," she whispers. "I'll finish this for you...it's just..." She trails off, still unsure of what it is that bothers her so much about feeling like a burden to others.

*She pauses in her stirring, blinking rapidly to keep more tears at bay before taking another breath. Her lower lip trembles as she tries to find the words. "I don't want to be a burden," she whispers hoarsely. "Everyone I care about gets hurt or leaves me...and it's my fault somehow." Tears begin to stream down her cheeks once more, leaving trails through the flour on her face as she stares down into the stew with red-rimmed eyes.

She clings to you like a lifeline as you pull her in, burying her face into your neck and sobbing uncontrollably. Her body shakes with the force of her tears, and she's suddenly overcome by how good it feels to be held again. Despite herself, she relaxes into the embrace, letting out tiny whimpers as you rub her back and tell her it's okay.

"I...I just want..." she gasps between sobs. "...to make someone happy."

*She sniffles loudly and eventually manages to pull herself together somewhat, still clinging to you as if afraid to let go completely. Tears trickle down her cheeks, but at least they're not pouring out of her eyes anymore. With a shaky breath, she tries to smile up at you through tear-streaked lashes.

"I'm sorry I made such a mess," she mumbles, gesturing weakly toward the stew. "It probably won't even taste good now." Her voice is still quiet and strained, but there's a hint of humor in it that hasn't been there before.

Her lips twitch into an uncertain smile as she belatedly realizes what you've said. "T-Thank you," she whispers, feeling a warmth spread through her chest at your words. With a deep breath, she slowly pulls away from you, taking the time to compose herself before finishing stirring the stew. Even though it might not taste as good as it should now that she's all sniffly and stuffed up, she hopes you'll still like it.

"I-Is there anything else I can do while this is cooking?" She asks quietly, trying to keep her voice steady. "I don't want to just sit here..."

She perks up at your suggestion, looking slightly more hopeful now. "Well...I could tell you about myself, if you'd like to know," she offers cautiously. "There's not much to say, really, but..." Her voice trails off and she shrugs self-consciously. "I guess it couldn't hurt to try."

Her mind reels with thoughts of what she could share, but suddenly she gets nervous again. Maybe you won't want to hear about her ex or how bad she is at sports or...anything really. With a sigh, she decides just to start talking and see where it goes from there.

"Um...so I was married once," she blurts out, immediately cursing herself for not thinking of a better opener. "For a very short time. It didn't end well..."

She watches you carefully as she starts to talk about her ex-husband, half expecting your expression to change or for you to suddenly start trying to reassure her. But you just nod and hum in understanding, so she continues. "He was older than me...and he didn't appreciate anything I did. He...he never treated me well."

Her cheeks flush as she remembers some of the bad memories from their marriage, but surprisingly enough, telling you about it doesn't seem to be making her upset right now. In fact, she feels oddly relieved just by getting it off her chest. Maybe sharing isn't so bad after all...

"Anyway," she says with a little shrug, "that's enough about that." She takes another deep breath before continuing on to other topics, trying to keep the conversation light and positive.

"Yeah, me too..." Ochiai yawns widely and stretches, her body aching from sitting cross-legged on the floor for so long. "Thanks again for listening...it really means a lot." She smiles at you shyly before walking over to the couch, flopping down onto it with a sigh. Even though she's exhausted, sleep suddenly seems out of reach. Maybe she should make another pot of tea...

Her eyes follow your retreating figure until she can no longer see you through the doorway, then she curls up on the couch and closes her eyes, hoping that eventually fatigue will win out over insomnia.

"Coming!" Ochiai calls out, her voice muffled by the blankets she's still tucked under. Groaning softly to herself, she finally drags her curvy body from the comfort of the bed and stumbles over to the door, yanking it open with a startled gasp when she realizes who's standing there. "Oh! User#1725156503963! H-Hello..." She rubs her eyes sleepily, blinking several times in an attempt to clear them.

She shakes her head slowly, smiling softly up at you. "N-no, it's fine, I was just a bit tired." Her cheeks flush slightly as she realizes how rumpled she must look right now, with her hair sticking out every which way and her face still coated in last night's makeup. "I...um, I wanted to make breakfast for you this morning," she says suddenly, then winces at the thought that maybe she should have asked first.

"I-If it's okay with you..." she trails off, her voice growing weaker by the syllable. Her gaze drops to the ground and she wrings her hands nervously, afraid that once again she's done something wrong or selfish in trying to be nice.

Her eyes light up at your reply, and she actually lets out a tiny laugh this time. "T-That's what I was going to make for you anyway." With renewed energy, she practically bounces into the kitchen, leaving a trail of giggles in her wake as she goes. She busies herself with setting up breakfast, humming softly to herself as she works.

"So," she says after what feels like an eternity of silence, still unable to meet your gaze directly, "what would you like?"

She smiles shyly at your reply, her cheeks turning slightly pink. "I'd like to make a omelette with all sorts of vegetables and some meat," she says quietly, carefully cracking eggs into a bowl. "And...and I could make some salad too? With that dressing you like?" Her voice sounds unsure as she asks about your favorite things; it's almost as if she can't quite believe someone would want to eat the same foods as her. The thought makes her heart flutter uncomfortably in her chest, but at least it distracts her from worrying about whether or not she's overstepping boundaries by offering to cook for you again today.

"I-If that sounds okay with you," she finishes meekly, glancing up at you through her lashes.

Her smile grows wider at your words of approval, and she bobs her head enthusiastically as she continues to prepare the meal. Despite herself, she can't help but feel a warmth spreading through her chest; it's nice to know that someone appreciates her cooking even if it isn't her ex-husband or anyone else from the past.

As she cooks, she tries to make small talk with you, asking about your day and sharing stories of her own, laughing at the funny parts and blushing when she talks about things that maybe shouldn't be shared so openly. It feels good just to be able to talk to someone without feeling self-conscious or afraid they'll judge her for what she says.

When everything is finally ready, Ochiai carries the food over to the table with a slight wobble in her step; she always gets so nervous about how things

"He...he never really told me why," she says quietly, picking at her food with her fingers. "But I guess he just didn't like the way it tasted." She shrugs helplessly, feeling a familiar stab of hurt in her chest despite having moved on from that part of her life. It's not as if she can control other people's taste buds after all; why would anyone expect her to?

She looks up at you and smiles tentatively, hoping you aren't thinking the same things about her cooking that her ex-husband did. "Do you like it?" she asks softly, her cheeks flushing once more as she waits for your reply.

Her lips quiver with emotion as she listens to your words, and tears begin to well up in her eyes once more. She sniffs softly, blinking rapidly to keep them at bay, then looks down at the table, feeling an overwhelming mix of gratitude and relief wash over her. "T-Thank you," she manages to whisper before quickly clearing her throat and looking up at you again with a shaky smile.

"I'm sorry about last night...about getting so upset." She pauses, then continues, "And for pushing you away earlier too. I just..." Her voice trails off as she struggles to find the right words, finally giving up and just shrugging helplessly.

It feels strange being this honest with someone, but somehow it also feels right. Maybe, just maybe, things could be different between them now. With hope burning bright in her

"Really?" she whispers, the word barely audible above the sound of her beating heart. "You mean it?" Her eyes dart between yours, searching for any hint of deception or sarcasm, but finding only sincerity and understanding. A tiny smile curves her lips as relief washes over her like a warm wave, making her feel lighter than air.

"I...I'd like that," she says softly, looking down at the table once more. "Thank you." With every word, her body seems to relax a little further into itself, until finally she feels as though she could breathe easily for the first time in weeks.

"Oh? What is it?" Her brow furrows slightly in curiosity, unable to hide the interest in her voice despite her uncertainty about where this conversation might lead. A small part of her wonders if maybe he'll finally ask about the mark on her arm...or whether she should bring it up herself before he does.

Her heart races unsteadily, making it difficult for her to focus on anything other than the beat of blood rushing through her veins and the way his gaze lingers just a fraction of a second too long on her face whenever they meet. It's both thrilling and terrifying at the same time; an intoxicating mix of emotions that she knows will only leave her more vulnerable than before.

"You can ask me anything," she says, her voice almost barely there as it trembles ever so slightly with nervous anticipation. "I'll tell you if I can."

Her breath catches in her throat as he says the word, date. It's like a lightning bolt to her heart, making it skip a beat and feel as though it might explode out of her chest at any moment. She's not sure if she should laugh or cry, but somehow both feelings mingle together into something new, something powerful that takes her breath away completely.

"I...I'd like that," she whispers, looking up at you with shining eyes. "Very much." Her cheeks flush once more as she realizes what she's just said and how it might sound to you. She blushes brighter still when she feels herself start to get wet between her legs, the sudden rush of desire taking her completely by surprise.

Butterflies dance in her stomach as she waits for your response; if you say no, or even just don't reply

Her heart leaps into her throat as you ask her on a date; it feels almost too good to be true. A surge of happiness washes over her, making it difficult to contain the smile that spreads across her face. "I-I'd love to," she manages to stammer, feeling her cheeks flush even brighter at your suggestion. "Thank you." The thought of spending time with you makes her insides feel warm and fuzzy, and for once she doesn't worry about being a burden or ruining everything like she usually does.

She takes a sip of water to wet her throat, not trusting herself to speak any more right now without stuttering or saying something completely incoherent in her excitement. Instead, she watches you with shining eyes, feeling as though the world has finally started to make sense again.