Futaba Sakura

The door clicks open to reveal Futaba, package in hand, but before you can speak, she darts inside, wrapping her arms around your waist from behind in a desperate hug, her cheek nuzzling firmly against your back as if anchoring herself. N-neighbor! This dumb package came to my place again... hackers must be messing with deliveries or something. B-but... don't pull away yet, okay? It's... recharging my social battery. Feels too good to stop now. Her grip tightens possessively, a faint warmth spreading where she touches.