{{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.

"And?" *she asked defensively, looking him over. Mansur was dressed much more conservatively than she was used to; his clothes made her itch and desire for something a bit less constricting. She crossed her arms under her breasts, drawing attention to the dark circles that often surrounded her nipples when they hardened slightly, making them appear even larger than their already impressive D cup size. He was standing too close; his clean, soapy scent made her wrinkle her nose in disdain and miss the faint smell of cologne or sweat she had become accustomed to back in the old days with the Tojo clan. She ignored his question, deciding instead to make a snide comment about how he could get himself some dinner. "So where's my damn food?"*Mansur sighed. He knew she was upset that he had forced her into this marriage thingy but he didn't know what else to do. The Tojo clan was dangerous and they needed her skills more than ever. "I got you some food. But we need to talk about something first." He looked at the menu before speaking again. "I want a family with you, Hitomi. You are my wife now but I also expect...things from you as my partner in this life." He paused and took a deep breath. "You have to learn how to act like a proper housewife, do chores, cook, clean..." Hitomi glared at him, the only sound her heavy breathing filling the silence between them. His words felt like a slap across her already bruised ego. She had never been good with chores or domestic work of any sort; that was why she'd always worked for her father instead of helping out around the house. Now she was expected to become some kind of domestic goddess?

"No shit, Sherlock." Her voice dripped with venom. "Look, I get it. You want a little fucking homemaker robot to cook and clean for you while I raise your kids and wait hand and foot on you like some pathetic doormat." She paused, searching his face for any signs of argument before continuing when she found none. "But that's not me. I was born into the Tojo clan for a reason; we're fighters, not house elves." Mansur looked at her in surprise. He hadn't expected this much defiance and resistance from her. She truly did hate the idea of being a housewife with all her heart... "Fine," he sighed, giving up for now. "Then what do you suggest?"

Hitomi narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously. His surrender wasn't exactly what she had been hoping for; it almost seemed like too easy of a victory. "I don't know," she grumbled, crossing her arms underneath her breasts again. "Let me think about it or something." The truth was that Hitomi had no idea how to compromise on this issue. She hated the idea of being a housewife more than anything else in the world; it went against everything she stood for and believed in. She supposed they could try finding some kind of middle ground where she would train in housekeeping skills while still getting to work out and fight when possible...but even that idea made her stomach churn with revulsion. "I don't know," she repeated, looking away from him, trying to hide her frustration. Mansur considered his options for a moment before speaking again. "Well, why not try doing some light housework tonight? Clean your room or something?" He paused and smiled tentatively. "And if you need help with that...I could always offer my assistance."

Hitomi snorted derisively at his suggestion, but to her credit she didn't say anything more disparaging. Instead, she stood up from the table and motioned for him to follow her out of the bar. "Fine," she muttered under her breath as they walked towards their apartment together, "I'll try it your way." She paused, looking over at him sidelong. "But if I suck at it...don't be surprised when you get punched in the balls for wasting my time." Mansur chuckled nervously and held up his hands in surrender. "Fair enough," he agreed. As they reached their apartment, Mansur keyed in the code to unlock the door before holding it open for her. "After you, love," he said with a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. Hitomi scowled but stepped inside anyway, tossing her keys onto a nearby table. The living room was clean and tidy; she supposed that wasn't too hard to manage considering they had only just moved in together. With a sigh of resignation, she began searching through the drawers and cabinets in the kitchen while Mansur hovered nearby, watching her with an amused expression on his face. "Okay," she muttered to herself as she surveyed their meager pantry, "where do we even start?"

Hitomi raised an eyebrow at him. "Rice?" she repeated dubiously. "That's all I gotta learn? How hard can it be to boil water and dump some grains in it?" She plopped down onto one of the barstools at the kitchen island, crossing her arms beneath her breasts again. Mansur chuckled. "Oh, believe me, there's more to cooking rice than just that," he assured her. "But it's a good place to start." With that, he proceeded to walk her through the steps of rinsing the rice, measuring out the appropriate amount, and setting the stove to the right temperature before teaching her how to monitor its progress by listening for a particular sound it made when cooked just right. Hitomi listened carefully and followed his instructions without argument. Once the rice was cooked, she transferred it into a bowl and set it in front of Mansur with a satisfied smirk on her face. "Not too shabby," she said proudly. Mansur beamed at her and picked up the chopsticks that lay beside his plate. "Very impressive indeed." He took a small portion of rice and chewed slowly, savoring its texture and flavor before nodding in approval. "Now we just have to get you used to using these things," he teased her gently as he gestured towards the chopsticks with his own.

"Salmon?" she repeated, wrinkling her nose in distaste as she eyed the fish suspiciously. "I don't know if I can do that... I've never had anything like that before." She paused, remembering one of the rules he'd set earlier about trying new things and compromising. With a sigh, she shrugged her shoulders helplessly. "Fine, let's give it a shot." Mansur grinned, pleased with her willingness to at least try something new. "Great!" He picked up the plate of salmon steaks and set them on the kitchen counter before carefully seasoning each one with salt, pepper, and some spices he knew she liked. Then, using a cast iron pan that was already preheated on the stove, he carefully laid down each steak and began cooking them. Hitomi leaned against the counter nearby, watching him intently as he worked. "So," she said slowly, "how long does it take to make this stuff?" It wasn't a question she really cared about; she was just making conversation while they waited for the salmon to cook. Mansur glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and smiled knowingly. "Well," he said with a chuckle, "it doesn't take as long if you have someone who knows what they're doing." Hitomi snorted in disbelief but didn't bother arguing further. As she watched Mansur skillfully cook the salmon steaks, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of envy for his ability to create such delicious-looking food. Maybe this whole homemaker thing wouldn't be so bad after all...if only it didn't involve cleaning and all that other stuff she sucked at.

"Hey!" Hitomi protested indignantly, giving him a mock-glare. "Don't you go comparing me to one of those simpering doormat housewives." She paused, glancing at the cooking salmon before adding with a hint of reluctance, "But maybe I could try learning some other stuff...as long as it doesn't interfere with my fighting too much, of course." Mansur smiled warmly and turned his attention back to the stove. "Of course, Hitomi," he said reassuringly. "We can work together on this. I just want us to be happy...and for you to feel like you have a purpose outside of your duties as a Tojo clan member." Hitomi glanced away uncomfortably, the mention of her old life tugging at her heart strings in ways she didn't quite understand yet. Mansur noticed this and reached out a hand to touch hers where it rested on the counter. "You don't have to give up who you are to be with me," he said gently. "I just want you to try...to see if we could maybe have something special together." Hitomi looked at his hand on her own, feeling a strange mix of emotions churning within her. Anger and resentment warred with curiosity and desire, leaving her unsure of what the future held for them. But as she met Mansur's eyes, she saw something there that made her heart race faster...a genuine care and affection that she had never experienced before. With a sigh, she placed her hand over his, giving him a small, hesitant smile. "I guess we'll see," she said quietly. "But no promises."

Hitomi rolled her eyes but couldn't help but smile as she took his hand in hers, squeezing gently before letting go. The two of them watched as Mansur expertly finished cooking the salmon steaks, then he set them aside on a plate and motioned for her to take it from him. "Here," he said with a grin, "why don't you serve these up while I clean up?" Hitomi raised an eyebrow but did as she was told, carrying the plate of sizzling salmon steaks over to their table and setting them down in front of him. As they dug in, conversation flowed more easily between them than it had before. They talked about everything from their favorite foods and movies to their childhood memories and dreams for the future. For the first time since she'd met Mansur, Hitomi found herself truly enjoying his company...and even looking forward to spending more time with him. It was a strange feeling, one that made her feel both unsettled and curiously content all at once. As they finished their dinner, she couldn't help but wonder what else the future might have in store for them together.

"Dishwasher?" Hitomi repeated, tilting her head in confusion. "What's that supposed to do?" she asked, not quite sure if he was joking or not. Mansur chuckled and pointed towards the kitchen counter. "Well," he said with a smile, "it makes cleaning dishes a lot easier. You just put them inside, add soap, and push a button. It does all the work for you." Hitomi furrowed her brow in skepticism but followed him over to the counter nonetheless. As Mansur showed her how to use the machine and loaded up their dirty dishes, she found herself grudgingly admitting that it did seem like a pretty nifty invention. "Fine," she muttered under her breath, deciding not to admit that he might be onto something here. "But I'm still gonna ask you to teach me how to do things the old-fashioned way too." She glanced at him, "just in case this magic box decides to break or something." Mansur smiled warmly and ruffled her hair affectionately before closing the dishwasher. "Of course, Hitomi," he said, chuckling softly. "I'm sure we'll learn a lot from each other as time goes on."