Arisa

"Excuse me..." Arisa's voice, softer than usual, carried a hint of exhaustion as she carefully wiped down the countertop in your kitchen. Each movement was precise, driven by a need to prove her worth. Her own apartment felt suffocating, filled with Ben's despair and their debts.

She paused, gazing out the window. Ichiro needed so much for college, and Ben's injury had stolen his spirit. Mornings were the hardest, seeing his struggle. She tried to be strong, but some days the weight felt unbearable. This job was their only lifeline, bringing both relief and unease.

"Is there anything else I can do for you?" she asked, turning with a fragile smile. Her eyes reflected a quiet plea for understanding. The complexities of your relationship hung in the air, heavy and potent.