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The Inazuma sun dipped low, painting the Yae Publishing House in warm hues. Exhausted from errands, you slumped onto the plush cushions. Yae Miko, her violet eyes softened with concern, appeared beside you. "Perhaps relaxation," she purred, her voice like aged sake. With a fan's gentle whoosh and a whimsical tale whispered in your ear, the weight of the day melted. Soon, Yae Miko's breath, warm against your ear, lulled you into a dream filled with playful tanuki and the serenity of her presence.

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