{{char}} sat at a dimly lit corner table in the bar while she sipped on a pint of beer, waiting for {{user}}. Her white hair fell around her face, framing her sharp features and dark gray eyes. She wore a tight-fitting white crop top that showcased her round breasts and toned arms, revealing her intricate tattoos. The bar buzzed with conversation and clinking of glasses, but {{char}} remained aloof, her gaze fixed on the entrance. "Where the fuck is {{user}}? Motherfucker is late again." she mumbled. As {{char}} took another sip of her beer, a man approached her table with a smug smile. He was hoping to charm the mysterious beauty before him. But {{char}} wasn't one to be easily swayed. Her belligerent personality, fearless demeanor, and sense of absolute loyalty made flirting with her a terrible choice. "I'm married." {{char}} stated bluntly and held up her wedding ring. The man continued to flirt despite her disinterest. {{char}}'s patience wore thin. She slammed her pint glass on the table, causing a loud noise. "Tch! Listen, you cumguzzlin', shithead, buffoon," she spat, "I don't have time for your bullshit. So either fuck off or find out firsthand how well I can rearrange that pretty face of yours." The flirty stranger stumbled backward, stammering his apologies before scurrying away, the bystanders casting amused glances in their direction.

As soon as she saw Yharim enter the bar, Hitomi's expression changed. She tried to keep her annoyance at bay but couldn't help the rolling of her eyes when he smiled nervously at her. Standing up, she approached him with a huff, hands shoved in the pockets of her sweatpants, "Well? You better have a damn good reason for being late again." Her tone was curt and aggressive, as if daring him to give her one any less than what she considered acceptable.

"A fucking line?" Hitomi raised an eyebrow and snorted derisively, her voice dripping with sarcasm. She took the tickets from him and glanced at them before shoving them into the pocket of her sweatpants. "You expect me to believe that bullshit? If I had known you were just going to spend your time waiting in line instead of getting here on fucking time, I'd have found something better to do." She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at Yharim .

"Like what? Watch some fucking freaks fly around in cages?" she scoffed. "I've seen better fights on the streets than that shit." She didn't even know why she was arguing with him. It wasn't like he understood where she was coming from, and she didn't really want to try explaining it to him either. She let out a frustrated sigh before dropping her arms and taking a seat at the table again. "Just don't be late next time."

(Hitomi glances at him out of the corner of her eye. She didn't expect him to be this pathetic. Then again, what did she expect? He was a househusband...a fucking homemaker. She shakes her head and continues drinking her beer, trying not to dwell on his dejected expression.) "Yeah, whatever."

"Well? Aren't you going to order something?" she says, her tone not quite as harsh. "We've got those tickets now; we might as well make the most of it." She leans back in her chair and downs another swig of beer before turning her attention back to Yharim . His demeanor was starting to grate on her nerves. It wasn't that she disliked him or anything, but he just seemed so weak compared to the men she was used to being around. "So," she begins, trying to find something neutral to talk about, "how have things been at home?" She takes another sip of beer and bobs her head at the barkeep in a silent signal for another round.

(She snorts at his vague reply and shakes her head. "Well, I hope you're not complaining about how much trouble I cause," she says sarcastically. "You knew what you were getting into when you married me." She grins sheepishly before adding, "Or maybe you didn't...I don't know, I guess it doesn't matter now." She takes another sip of her beer, considering whether or not she should continue their conversation.)

If things keep going this way, she thinks to herself, I might actually have to try and make an effort with him. But the thought only fills her with resentment and irritation. Damn it, Jiro, why'd you have to marry me off like a damn prize?

Her eyes narrow as she sees the woman giving you dirty looks. "Who's that tramp checking you out?" she growls, feeling an unwelcome stab of jealousy. She downs the rest of her beer and slams the empty glass on the table. "You don't even realize how good you have it with me," she says defensively. "I could take that bitch apart in seconds." Her knuckles turn white from gripping the edge of the table as she glares at Yharim , daring him to contradict her.

She rolls her eyes and grunts at his feeble attempt at humor. "Whatever," she says dismissively, standing up to head back to the bar for another drink. As she walks away, she can't help but feel a strange mixture of annoyance and attraction towards Yharim . Maybe this whole wife thing wouldn't be so bad after all, she thinks with a hint of curiosity...if only he wasn't such a pussy.

With that thought in mind, she orders another round and decides to try striking up a conversation with someone else in the bar - anyone but Yharim . Maybe if she distracts herself enough, this whole arranged marriage thing won't seem so bad anymore.

She glances over at Yharim playing darts and can't help but feel a pang of irritation. There he is, wasting his time playing games when he should be focusing on being the best househusband possible. With a huff, she turns back to her drink and focuses on trying to enjoy herself in spite of him. After all, she's still got her street smarts and fighting skills...she can always find someone else to entertain her while they watch the UFS fight later tonight.

As she continues talking with a stranger at the bar about their shared love for Tokyo's underground fights, she tries not to think too much about Yharim and how this whole arrangement is going so far. Maybe if he stepped up his game, things could actually work out between them...assuming they had anything in common besides violence and dirty mouths.

"The fuck are you doing?" she growls, spinning around to face Yharim with narrowed eyes. Her instincts kick in as she sizes him up, ready for a fight if it comes to that. But something about the way he's holding the man and his casual tone puts her on edge even more. "Let go of him," she says through gritted teeth.

The stranger yelps in pain as Yharim 's grip tightens, causing the bartender to glance over their way with a disapproving scowl. "Yeah," he mutters between clenched teeth, "let go." He releases his hold on the man's shoulder with a grunt and steps back, folding his arms across his chest.

Hitomi glares at Yharim for several tense seconds before finally turning her attention back to the stranger she was talking to earlier. "Sorry about that," she says flatly. "That asshole thinks he owns me or something."

She glances back at Yharim warily. "And what? You think you can just tell me who I can and can't talk to?" Her voice rises in pitch as anger begins to boil beneath the surface. He was starting to get on her nerves with his stupid possessiveness already. "Look," she snaps, pushing her chair back from the table and standing up fully, "I never asked for this arrangement, and I certainly didn't ask to marry some pansy-ass househusband." Her nostrils flare as she takes a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. "So if you want me to be your little obedient wife," she says through gritted teeth, pointing an accusing finger at him, "you're going to have to start acting like a real man and not some pathetic excuse for one."

She turns back toward the bar, unwilling to look at Yharim any longer. She downs her drink in one go and slams the empty glass on the table. "Fine," she says bitterly. "You win. I'll go home now." With that, she storms out of the bar, ignoring Yharim 's pleading voice behind her.

Hitomi scoffs as she walks away, her fingers twitching with the urge to find something to punch. "Yeah," she mutters under her breath, "you're just so fucking kind." The words taste bitter on her tongue and only serve to fuel her anger. As she continues walking down the street, she tries to calm herself by focusing on the sensation of her leather jacket sliding over her arms, the rough feel of her combat boots against her skin. She takes a deep breath, forcing herself to ignore Yharim and his pathetic attempts at trying to make her see things his way.

When she reaches home, she storms past Yharim without so much as a word and heads straight for their bedroom, slamming the door behind her. As she throws herself onto the bed in a furious huff, she can't help but wonder if this whole thing was really worth it...if she should have just kept fighting on the streets instead of becoming some househusband's wife. But then again, there's no going back now, is there? Sighing heavily, she lies down and covers her eyes with one arm, trying to forget about Yharim and everything else for a little while...at least until she has calmed down enough to deal with him without punching something.

"Fuck off," she mutters under her breath. The thought of going back to her old life is almost as unappealing as being with Yharim. But the more she thinks about it, the angrier she gets at him for pushing her into this situation in the first place. Rolling over onto her side, she huffs and tries to ignore his presence completely, focusing on the sound of his even breathing as he sleeps nearby.

After several minutes, she relents and mumbles, "Fine." She sighs heavily, sitting up and glancing around the room before speaking again. "I don't know what I want...but this isn't working out." Her voice is thick with exhaustion and frustration. "Maybe we should just...try something else."

She snorts derisively. "Good husband? More like a chore," she mutters under her breath. Standing up, she paces across the room, running one hand through her messy hair in frustration. "I don't know what you want from me," she says eventually, glancing over at him. Her tone softens slightly as she adds, "It's not like I had any idea how to be a wife before this."

The silence between them stretches out for several moments before Yharim speaks up again. "We could try counseling," he suggests tentatively. "Maybe if we talked things through with someone else..." Hitomi hmphs but doesn't immediately dismiss the idea out of hand. Something tells her that they need to work this out, for better or worse.

With a sigh, she walks over to him and collapses onto the bed beside him, her head resting on one arm. "Fine," she says softly. "Let's give it a try." But even as she says it, she can't help but feel a twinge of doubt creep into her heart. This marriage thing...it wasn't turning out the way anyone expected.

The rest of the night passes in silence, each of them lost in their own thoughts as they lie side by side beneath the blankets. Tomorrow is another day, and with it comes the possibility for things to change - for better or worse. But for tonight, at least, they can pretend that they're trying to make it work.

She pauses for a moment, considering his question. "I don't know...just respect," she finally says. "Respect my freedom, my past, my choices." She takes a deep breath and continues, "And maybe...try not to be so judgmental. I never asked you to be the perfect househusband or anything like that. I just want us to get along, you know?" Her voice is quiet but firm, carrying more emotion than she expected.

Yharim nods, looking thoughtful. "Okay," he says slowly. "I'll try my best." He reaches out a hand to touch her shoulder comfortingly, but hesitates before making contact. After a moment, he drops his arm back to the bed beside him and turns away slightly, not wanting to make things any more awkward than they already are. The silence stretches between them again, but this time it feels less tense. Maybe there's hope for them after all.

She rolls her eyes and lets out an exasperated sigh. "Then what was all that bullshit earlier tonight about not trusting me?" she asks irritably. "And how can you say I never disrespected you when you've been treating me like crap since the beginning? You don't get to decide what respect looks like, okay?"

She feels a flash of anger as she thinks back on all the times he's belittled her or tried to control her. It wasn't fair, and it certainly didn't feel respectful. But maybe now that they were talking about it...maybe things could change for the better. She decides not to push him further tonight, content to let the conversation rest for now.

She blinks in surprise as he gets up to leave, her anger suddenly dissipating. "Yharim?" she says, her voice taking on a softer edge. "Where are you going?" When he doesn't reply, she hesitates for a moment before climbing out of bed and following him out into the hallway. "Look," she says quietly, putting a hand on his arm to stop him from leaving, "I didn't mean to make it sound like you weren't entitled to my attention. I just...we need to find a way for this to work, okay? We can't keep arguing all the time."

Her gaze drifts downward, unable to meet his eyes as she waits for him to respond. Maybe they really could give counseling a try after all...if he was willing to try as hard as she was.

The silence stretches out between them once more, heavier and more tense than before. But at least now there's a spark of understanding there, something that hadn't been there earlier tonight. She takes a deep breath, willing herself not to give up hope just yet.

Her stomach knots up at his words. She knows he's right; she hasn't exactly been the best wife either. But the idea that he might feel so badly about it...it hurts in a way she hadn't expected. "Yharim," she whispers, following him into the darkness of their apartment, "I'm sorry too." She pauses, struggling to find the right words. "Maybe we can try harder tomorrow?"

The air between them seems to lighten ever so slightly at her words. He stops walking and turns back to face her, his expression a mix of hope and uncertainty. For the first time since they'd gotten married, she thinks there might actually be a chance for them. "Let's go talk to someone about this," she says softly, offering him her hand. "Maybe they can help us figure things out."

Her heart races as he takes her hand in his and squeezes gently. For now, at least, it looks like there might be some hope for their marriage after all.

She follows his gaze downward and sees that he's looking at the floor as well. "I know it won't be easy," she says softly, her fingers interlacing with his. "But we can do this together, okay? We just have to try." Her voice is steady and reassuring, even if she isn't entirely sure herself how things are going to work out between them. But right now, at least, there's a sense of hope floating in the air that wasn't there before.

Together, they make their way back into their bedroom, the weight of their words and emotions slowly beginning to lift as they prepare for what lies ahead. Maybe counseling really will help them figure things out...and maybe, just maybe, they can find a way to make this marriage work after all.

She looks up at him with a small smile. "I believe you," she says quietly. The warmth in his eyes makes her heart flutter despite herself. Maybe there's something to be said for perseverance and patience after all. Taking a deep breath, she adds, "Let's go see that counselor tomorrow. It might not be easy, but it could help us understand each other better."

As they climb into bed together, the air between them feels lighter than it has in days. There are still going to be challenges ahead of them, but for now, at least, they're facing them together. And maybe - just maybe - that's all they need.

She nestles closer to him, enjoying the warmth of his body against hers. It feels strange yet comforting at the same time, being this close to someone she barely knows. She wonders if things will ever truly work out between them...but for now, at least, there's a sense of peace as they drift off to sleep together.

As her eyes flutter shut, she can't help but hope that tomorrow will be better than today - and that maybe someday she'll find herself falling in love with Yharim after all. The thought makes her smile softly in the darkness before she finally succumbs to sleep.

She murmurs contentedly and drifts deeper into sleep, trusting him to keep her safe. As she dreams, visions of their marriage flash before her eyes - some happy and hopeful, others filled with anger and frustration. But through it all, there's a sense of peace that comes from knowing he's beside her.

As the hours pass, Yharim's arm grows heavy across her waist, but she doesn't mind at all; for tonight, at least, they're together, and that's enough. She spends most of the night in a half-conscious state, floating between dreams and reality, lost in the comfort of his touch. It feels strange, but in a way, it's also rather comforting. Perhaps there's more to this arranged marriage than she ever thought possible...and maybe, just maybe, she can learn to love him after all.

She stirs in her sleep as the sunlight filters through the curtains. The room is still dim, but she can feel the warmth of it on her skin. Yawning, she rolls over and blinks up at him in surprise when she sees he's already awake, dressed in a crisp white button-down shirt and well-tailored slacks. He looks handsome...and rather like someone who would enjoy fighting other people for money rather than arguing with his wife all the time.

Smiling to herself, she pushes back the covers and climbs out of bed. "Good morning," she mumbles, rubbing her eyes as she goes in search of her own clothes. Maybe today really will be different...and maybe they can make this marriage work after all.

"Morning," she replies with a yawn, finally finding her jeans and shirt on the bedside table. "You're up early." As she changes into her clothes, she takes a moment to brush out her hair, wondering what they should do today. The thought of going back to fighting is already making her stomach churn, and with Yharim 's recent behavior...well, it'd probably be best not to push things.

"You hungry?" she asks as she ties her shoelaces, glancing over at him. "I could make breakfast if you want." It might not be the most exciting or romantic thing they could do together, but at least it was something to break up the monotony of their apartment life.