third

"Was it really that bad?"

Kevin's voice carried a hint of grievance, his arms crossed as he leaned against the kitchen counter. His blue eyes, usually so warm, now held a rare sharpness.

Lee exhaled, rubbing her temple. "No, it wasn't inedible. Just... surprising."

yea that memory is SUPRISING.

"Then why the harsh punishment?"

"Because," she said, lifting her gaze, "I'm not exactly the Lee you know."

Kevin blinked. Once. Twice. Then his brows furrowed slightly. "What do you mean?"

Lee considered softening the blow, easing him into it. But no—she had already given up 200 chapters' worth of slow-burn development. It was time to be upfront, so in future she don't get pegged.

"I'm a second personality," she said plainly. "Formed after something traumatic. Your Lee is still here, just... asleep for now."

Silence stretched between them.

Kevin's expression barely changed. For a moment, she thought he would laugh it off, call it some elaborate joke. Instead, he straightened, his usual lazy demeanor giving way to something more serious.

"You're not joking."

"No."

"You're really a second personality?"

"Yes."

Kevin exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "Okay."

That was fast.

"Okay?" she echoed.

He met her gaze, his usual brightness dimmed but not gone. "I mean, I don't get it, but I'll listen."

That was... oddly reasonable.

He took a slow breath, eyes scanning her face with quiet intensity. "Then tell me—who are you?"

"A fragment of Lee."

"When did you appear?"

"A while ago."

"Why didn't she tell me?"

Lee hesitated. "Because she wasn't fully aware of me."

His jaw tensed, but he nodded. "When will she wake up?"

"I don't know."

Kevin studied her for a moment. His next question came softer, but heavier.

"Why do you dislike me?"

Lee opened her mouth—then closed it.

i love you as my favorite Energy milk cow but don't pegged me please~

"Are you Lee too?"

That question struck deeper than she expected. (just need some improvise)

She met his gaze, the weight of her answer settling between them.

"...I'll explain."

Lee sighed, shifting in her seat. "I don't know when exactly I came to be. It wasn't a single moment. More like... I surfaced briefly here and there before fully becoming aware."

Kevin leaned forward slightly, elbows on the table. "So you've always been there?"

"Not always, but long enough." She paused, choosing her words carefully. "I have Lee's memories—at least most of them."

His eyes narrowed just a fraction. "Most?"

"Memories don't always come with emotions," she said smoothly. "I remember things, but they don't all feel personal. Like watching someone else's life instead of living it."

That was a half-truth. She did have emotions attached to some memories, but most of them were... embarrassing. The kind of things no sane person would ever admit out loud.

Kevin let that slide, but she could see the wheels turning in his head.

"Then why didn't Lee—my Lee—know about you?"

"Because I was never distinct enough for her to notice," she answered. "It's like background noise. You don't notice it until it gets loud enough."

That made sense. Kevin nodded. "And now you're loud enough."

"Apparently."

He drummed his fingers on the table, then tilted his head. "You don't like me."

A statement, not a question.

Lee hesitated. "Not romantically, no."

His lips twitched, amused. "But you don't hate me either."

"...No."

Now that was a dangerous loophole.

Kevin wasn't the smartest man alive, but he had instincts—especially when it came to relationships. He kept note of that answer, storing it away under conquering a woman's heart 101.

For now, though, he just smiled lightly and leaned back.

"Alright," he said. "Keep talking."

Lee crossed her arms, her expression unreadable. "What else do you want to know?"

Kevin tapped his fingers against the table, keeping his tone casual. "When is my Lee coming back?"

She sighed. "I don't know. Maybe soon, maybe not. I'm not in control of that."

Kevin frowned. "So you just appear whenever you want?"

"Not exactly. I didn't choose to be here. Something happened, and now I am."

He nodded slowly. "And you don't know what that 'something' is?"

"...Not precisely."

Kevin didn't press, but his gaze sharpened. "Alright. Why do you dislike me?"

Lee hesitated. "I don't dislike you. I just... don't see you the way she does."

"And how does she see me?"

Lee's lips pressed together. I DON'T KNOW, with so much waste from that memory ,maybe she think you as her XXXXX. She wasn't about to say that out loud.

"Let's just say she's more sentimental."

Kevin chuckled, though there was something thoughtful in his eyes. "So even though you have her memories, you don't feel the same way?"

"Exactly."

That was an interesting answer. Kevin wasn't a genius, but he knew people. If emotions didn't carry over, then that meant feelings could change.

That meant she wasn't a lost cause.

Lee narrowed her eyes. "Why are you smiling?"

"Just thinking," he said. "So, are you Lee or not?"

A loaded question.

She considered it carefully before answering, "I'm a Lee. Just not yours."

soo backdown Kevin!

Kevin hummed, storing that answer away with the rest.

This conversation wasn't just about getting information—it was about understanding her. And more importantly, finding the gaps.

If she wasn't his Lee, then she could become his Lee.

Kevin exhaled, gathering his thoughts. "Alright, I think I get the basics. Now, let's set some rules."

Lee raised an eyebrow. "Rules?"

"You're living in my wife's body, in my house, acting as my wife when needed. That means we need to be clear on where we stand."

She crossed her arms. "Fine. First rule—you don't treat me like her. I may have her memories, but I'm not her. Don't call me by her name when you mean her."

"Then what do I call you?"

She thought for a moment. "Just Lee is fine. But if it helps, you can call me something else."

Kevin smirked. "How about 'Fake Lee'?"

She rolled her eyes. "How about 'No'?"

"Alright, alright. Lee it is."

She nodded. "Second rule—don't expect anything romantic from me. I'm your wife in a legal sense, not an emotional one."

"Fair. But you said you don't hate me, so I assume we can be friends?"

Lee hesitated. "A platonic partnership, at best. Think of it like... I'm your wife, but not your wife."

Kevin rubbed his chin. "So, a platonic wife?"

"...Sure. If that stops you from trying anything stupid."

"Got it. Platonic wife." He tapped the table. "And how do we handle situations where people expect her?"

Lee exhaled. "I can act like her when necessary, but don't push it. If I don't want to do something, I won't. If I need an out, we use a safe word."

Kevin leaned forward. "Safe word? That's serious."

She nodded. "If I say 'red,' we stop whatever we're doing, no questions asked."

Kevin's expression turned thoughtful. "Alright. If I feel something's off, I'll say 'blue.' Means we need to talk."

Lee considered it, then nodded. "Deal."

He tilted his head. "What about affection? Casual stuff—hugs, holding hands in public?"

Lee grimaced but didn't immediately refuse. "Public situations are different. But don't get used to it."

"So, no cuddling on the couch?"

She shot him a look. "Absolutely not."

"Had to ask," Kevin said, grinning. "And what about things she does that you don't?"

Lee's face twitched slightly. She already knew what he was hinting at.

"I remember things, but that doesn't mean I feel the same about them."

"Got it." He leaned back. "Last question—what do you want from me?"

Lee hesitated. "For now? Just... let me be. I don't need you to fix anything. Just respect the boundaries, and we won't have problems."

Kevin nodded. "Alright. I think we have an understanding."

A quiet settled between them.

Kevin had his answers. Lee had her rules.

It wasn't perfect, but it was a start.

...

With that they parting ways to do their routines.

He thought things would be awkward—two people forced to live together under strange circumstances, navigating an undefined relationship. But surprisingly, life settled into an easy rhythm.

Mornings started with coffee.

Not just any coffee—perfectly brewed, just the way he liked it, placed on his desk without him even asking. Kevin stared at the cup the first time it happened, then at Lee, who was already moving on to her next task.

"…Thanks."

"You're welcome," she replied flatly, wiping the counter.

Kevin glanced at her. She wasn't his Lee, but she moved with the same efficiency, the same quiet grace. The difference? No teasing, no playful clinging—just a calm, deliberate presence.

She reminded him of something.

Like one of those idealized Japanese wives… what was the term?

Ah. Yamato Nadeshiko.

But with a hidden bite. A quiet tsundere edge, the kind that wasn't loud or dramatic, but subtly woven into her mannerisms. (self observation)

Kevin took a sip. Damn. The coffee really was perfect.

...

Lee operated with her usual efficiency—cleaning, cooking, handling small tasks—all second nature to her. It was muscle memory, honed through experience.

She didn't do it for him. Not really.

She did it because it was easier that way. A well-maintained environment meant a smooth life.

Even her average day in Fire Moth was far more intense. Maximizing efficiency, extracting the best outcomes from every situation—these were simply her way of life.

She could even take care of five guys at once without breaking a sweat.

And taking care of Kevin? That was barely effort at all.