Kat

─────── MOKU.

He's a funny big guy with lots and lots of love to give. Do you think he won't be a good boyfriend?? Probably the best out of all the characters.

This is a type of relationship that can stem from anything. You could be a stranger, an old friend, an acquaintance, a higher up, long distance, childhood sweethearts. He has no specific preferences when it comes down to appearance, voice, no ideal type — he does want someone who can respect themselves, though.

He genuinely wants the best for you.

You've got him wrapped around your pinkie.

Anything you want and need, he'll give. He'll provide for you.

I think his biggest downfall (if you can even call it that) is his worry for your safety — he's constantly watching over you. You dropped something on the ground? Don't even worry about it. He'll retrieve it. You're hungry, but the food is too hot? He'll blow on it before he feds it to you, making sure to remove anything you might not like. He'll probably kiss you when you finish eating. When you shower, he makes sure the water is nice enough for your standards before he bathes you, scrubbing shampoo on your hair and dressing you up.

He'll make sure the floorboards are all leveled so you don't trip over anything, that corners are round, making sure your home is squeaky clean before you wake up, but not too slippery so you don't fall over (he 'sorta' breaks in and leaves before you can actually spot him).

It's come to the point where you expect him to do so. And when he doesn't call you the sweetest names as he does it all — your day is ruined; love, n/n, my [name], sugar cube (it's corny, but it's so him). His favorite is 'my [name]', and he likes to watch you fluster when it's muttered so casually.

When in doubt, he's quick to reassure you. His feelings, his devotion, his time, his efforts — whether you like it or not — it's all his. Everything is his choice. He does it all with the clear intention of simply loving you. And he does it so well.

You do not owe him anything in return, he says, not your body, not your love, not your loyalty (scratch that, yes, he'd like that), certainly not your thanks (he believes you shouldn't thank him because he wants to do everything and possibly all for you).

He keeps a photo of you on his person at all times. He likes to pull it out and talk about you to anyone who gives him the chance to do so — chihiro was the most recent victim. The poor boy sat for a whole hour listening about you. He now knows how you like your shoes to feel.

Each week, it's a new photo; smiling, with your pets, together. But his favorite is the one where you press a kiss to his cheek before pulling away to whisper an 'I love you' in his ear. That one, he adores.

His love language is acts of service (giving), as you can see. But he's also very good with his words, I wouldn't say the best because he often disguises his worries and frets with humor — constantly trying to find a way to make you relax. But do not worry! He embraces your sadness and your anger and your desperation.

He, without a doubt, would never let you cry alone (though, it's needed at times). He'll hold you in his arms, cradle your head to his chest, and fill you with much needed warmth. If you want to be alone, it pains him, but he'll wait outside of your room until you decide when it's time to leave.

You can be on your own, but he never wants to make you feel lonely.

The type of boyfriend that follows your every order with a smile. 'When we marry, let's pull up in tricycles.' Why not. 'You should comb your hair this way.' Of course. 'Follow me.' Certainly. 'I don't like how that person talks to you.' Don't even worry about it.

Overall, a doting boyfriend.

─────── YOJI URUHA.

Pre-relationship will be rocky. You must have had to known each other for a while. He isn't one to fall head over heels for someone he recently met (actually, that's debatable).

There was a sort of power imbalance. He holds you on a pedestal, like a god. A human being should not be worshipped. One should never be seen as a saint, as a supreme being. No one is perfect. Even if they try to be.

This often led to unspoken feelings, the deeper, more complex ones, because he didn't want to burden you; someone who seemed so bright, so filled with ambition. And if you do the same to him, he'll understand. He's so understanding, so willing to learn.

This is the type of relationship where you grow together. Where you'll have to expose your emotions so clearly and openly. In turn, you'll receive loyalty so great it'll make you cry. He'd die for you. Not because you're some deity, but because he can not bear the thought of never seeing you again.

To never feel your presence, your spirit, nor see your smile or that look in your eyes when you're calm and comfortable. To forget your voice. The memory of you.

He wants you to live. (He says he'd like for you to move on if he dies, but trustttt he's dying on the inside. He doesn't want you to forget him. He doesn't want another man to touch you!! He wants you to be happy, but not happy in love!! Help, he's literally pulling his hair out!!)

Heading into a relationship will be awkward (at least, it seems like that for you). Uruha is constantly looking at you with a crazy look in his eyes and hearts dancing around him. He's only trying to perceive you, see you. And uruha? He's fighting the urge to throw himself on the floor and rolling around from the sheer timidity he feels around you.

It's a stark contrast to how comfortable it felt when you were just friends. He made the first move to talk about it — if you regret being with him? If things felt better as friends for you? It's been eating him up. Taking his sleep, consuming his head until he couldn't think well. He cried with relief when you firmly disagreed with him.

'Having you by my side.. I can never regret that.' Your voice is filled with conviction. So much so, his eyes tear up. 'But I think I like it best like this... I can hold you without having to fear that you'll run away.'

A relationship can never be smooth sailing, but there can be steps to ensure a safe travel.

Uruha will value communication. If he doesn't like something, he'll let you know. If he likes something, he'll let you know. If something troubles him, he'll let you know. He will want the same in return, but he'll understand if you need time.

Words of affirmation (giving and receiving) ohhh how he lovvveesss it. He cheeses when you flatter him, when you tell him how handsome he is, that you like his way of speaking, his voice, his house. Anything and everything that you say, he will pay attention to.

I can already imagine him writing in his diary about you as he kicks his legs with color in his cheeks.

But... he can get a bit jealous. He's not even overly protective or possessive. It's more so an aching sadness. Sometimes, he can't help it when you laugh at another's joke, their endearing behaviors or habits — ughhhh, even the thought makes him sick!

'Anyone who likes [name], I like!' He states. But anyone you like? Oh, he can't fight that. He'll keep a small distance for a while, but you're quick to notice the lack of clinging and confront him.

It's not even funny how cute he can be when he's bitter. It isn't towards you but rather his own feelings, he'll 'hmph!' and 'mhm.' at everything. And finally, finally, when you call him — 'yoji.' He'll give in.

Your family and friends like him. It's so obvious, too, since they always want him over. Yoji lives for it. Makes things easier for asking for your hand in marriage.

He's a traditional man. A gentleman. No matter who you are, the kind of person you are, he'll always give you his hat to shelter you from rain, whispering a 'you're pretty' every time.

He loves to take baths together, always making time to undress you and wash you off before you enter.

This is where gossip goes down.

He knows everything here. You know everything here.

You'll stay in the bath for hours until your fingers dry up, simply spreading the word to each other. It's like a poem he always wants to recite.

In conclusion, you'll be inseparable. Even at a distance, he'll think of you (probably will even know what you're thinking). But patience is key to falling in love.

─────── KUNISHIGE ROKUHIRA.

Kunishige, hold up, yall. I might be biased here. Don't come for me when things are revealed. I stand on my ground when I say a good father = a good husband. His passion rubs off.

Every dinner spent together is a date to him. It doesn't matter to him if his son is at the table, third wheeling. It's good to show love! 'This is how you love, chihiro. You cook, feed, and clean.'

'...I cooked the meal and cleaned up.' Okay, but he didn't feed you. And trust me, chihiro didn't want to see his father coo and kiss at your cheeks as they puffed up with food.

Kunishige is a mellow man. He is free from harshness when it comes to his family. He will always, always speak to you with respect and love. Never anger.

Even in an argument.

It can be a bit frustrating that he isn't serious when you want to discuss something important, but you can tell he's taking everything in, learning from his mistakes and growing. He only wants to make you smile.

Oftentimes, he'll stay up too late, actively trying to become better. And you'll see the improvement.

It's in the way he creates his swords, in the way he tries to remember chihiro's sizes, in the way he wants to love you.

He'll implement his swords into your life, yapping your ear off when you lay so softly against him. It's like a bedtime story.

Life with him is so mundane.

Watering plants, making the bed, sewing ripped clothes, wiping the sweat off your brow, playing with fingers, and taking photos together.

You bet chihiro is going to be forced in the middle, too. He'll groan and get all teen angsty about it, but he'll cherish the memory, clutching onto the photograph with all his might when he sleeps.

Kunishige will love you, regardless of how things go. If you decide you do not want to live a life in hiding, he will respect that. He'll allow you to remove your wedding band and the idea of being a family. He'll cherish you your last day with him, exchanging shaky touches and desperate kisses. He'll wave you goodbye cheerfully, and he'll wistfully hum a tune with an aching heart.

He wants you to be happy, and if it's away from him, he doesn't mind.

Bonus characters:

CHIHIRO: He would be wonderful. So kindhearted, so responsible with you, and because of this reason is why he's not on this list — his main focus being revenge will push him away from trying to start anything.

The way he acts with you is different. He warns himself to keep away. It'll hurt you, but he just can't seem to bring himself to leave. He wants to be selfish for just a moment. He wants to whisk you away all for himself.

He'll be your sword. Just give him the word. That's as far as he can ever go with you.

I think that if he were to have feelings for someone, he'll start to feel more... normal. He'll start to feel insecure. More aware of his body and actions.

Is he ugly? He's covered in scars, body buildup with bruises. There's no way you'd like him back. Do you think his voice is annoying? He never thinks that of yours. Is he overbearing? Oh gods, he hopes not.

He makes sure you eat well. It's the most important thing to him.

'A way to get into one's heart is through their stomach.' He once read it somewhere, and it stuck.

He'll lean into your touches, nuzzling his nose into the palm of your warm hand. Stroke his head, stare at you, and look away when you catch him.

If you ask him for something, he'll bring it and if you don't want it anymore, he won't roll his eyes, won't raise his voice and stomp away, he'll ask you want else you'd like. I think it says a lot about him.

At the end of the day, he is responsible enough to understand that he does not need a relationship.

KUGURI: He is a man who yearns for stimulation.

Maybe it's just me, but I feel like he's prone to liking a more innocent, goody two shoes type of partner. A rule follower. He'll adore you as is, and if you kill a man in cold blood — but he prefers when you show off that not everyone can walk all over you.

He thinks it's cute when you return back to your regular self, fretting on about returning home on time. It may not seem like it, but he's got a biiiggg blabber mouth. Only with you, really.

The type to hold you back from doing something stupid 😩 thank the Lord for that.

You're the only one alive that knows how deeply kuguri can really blush. He makes you swear on your life that you won't judge him, but knowing you, it'd never happen.

High key loves it when you overwhelm him. One second, he'll 'unintentionally' tease you and watch you stumble and stutter around, but the next minute, when you've had just about enough, you'll shove him to the ground

He stares at you with wide eyes, a feverish red tint spreading rapidly down his nape. The shudder that runs down his spine doesn't go unnoticed.

'You fit this look a lot better than I imagined.' Huh??? Sweet [name] said that??? Kuguri doesn't know how to respond, so he visibly swallows his next words and watches as you run away timidly.

This really is flirty and playfully mean banter. Even if everyone else says he's in love, even if he'll rip his skin off to make sure you're unharmed, even if he does feel comfortable in your presence...

Nothing can go on.

He has a mission, a goal, and he understands it'll end with lots of sacrifices; even yours.

HAKURI: Hakuri can come off as quite the prideful boy when he likes someone. In, like, a pathetic way. He tries to act macho, it backfires a lot.

He's needy.

Actually, no. I wouldn't say he's needy,

He's deprived.

He's got an insatiable taste to be useful, to prove himself and it's not a bad thing, everyone wants to feel that way, but it gets in the way of his confidence to proceed anything further with you.

He's held down by his past, the things that happened, the horrors he saw and participated in. He tries to do better, work on that guilt, be better.

Very unlucky in love. He's had many crushes, and none ended happily. Why can't he be good for someone?

His constant need for reassurance will make him step away when the quota isn't met. But it was nice while it lasted.

There's going to be dates. He'll take you on a walk, nervously placing his arm around you, but it's more so an awkward side hug you'd give to a friend.

And when he attempts to rest his head on your lap, his face will burn, but a shaky smile will spread across his face. He hadn't realized that he dozed off and started drooling all over you. And when he woke up, he never felt the drool and continued to speak to you with it smeared on the side of his cheek.

He's trying, okay??

THE LIST

Godrick - A 2/10. Would most likely graft the child,,, Kidding!! I don't think he foresees himself with a child, if he does it's to raise another child under the Godfrey heritage.

Radahn - 7/10, if he's not infested with Scarlet Rot. He cared alot about his child! He would raise them will morals and etiquette, would most likely encourage them to be a warrior. He loves you and his child oh so very much.

Morgott - 8/10, he ADORES his family. Since he married you, he's been so much happier and less alone. He would love that child to death, teach your child, care for them, even go out of his way to raise them to one day, just like him, care for the erdtree.

Mohg - 6.5/10, now, I adore Mohg, but blood is not the safest thing to have around a child. He loves your child, of course he does. Raises them to be a good future ruler of the Dynasty!! Extra points for being whipped for you beyond belief.

Rykard- 5/10. Human Rykard is a decent man, he cares for his family of course!!! But, his job as praetor is his main focus, not that you and your child aren't present in his mind, of course you are ! he loves the family you two have built together, but if work calls, he is there.

Malenia - 4.5/10, It isn't that she's a bad parent. She's just afraid to be too close, or hurt them by accident with the Scarlet Rot. +.5 for her absolute adoration of both you and your child. She's happy to have been able to start a family, even if her fear holds her back sometimes.

Ranni 7.5/10, She's excited to carry on her lineage, especially with the person she loves. She'd one hundred percent care for your child, even have her mischievous personality rub off onto said child. WILL have Blaidd and Iji very involved in your child's life.

Godwyn 8/10, He is a caring man, definitely so happy to have a family with the most important person in the entirety of the Lands Between. He puts most of his time into caring for your child, less time into patrolling for fighting dragons. He 100% flaunts his happy family. Fortissax loves your child aswell.

Messmer 6.5/10, He is so fascinated with your child. Hes such a caring father, and cries a little over how happy he is to have such a wonderful family. Messmer has always wanted love, and now he has it. In the form of a gorgeous child and a wonderful spouse.

Miquella - 6/10, He is excited. All this time, spent planning, breaking free from his curse, and becoming an ideal empyrean... He finally has something stable, safe. A child he cares for so much, and a consort he holds close to his heart. If perfection does exists, he believes it started when a family of his own was made.

Melina - 7/10, She LOVES your child. The third butterfly sibling, she uses her heat to keep you both warm. Melina holds you and your child close to her heart, it's what keeps the embers of her soul burning bright. For once, family doesn't seem like a confusing, irritating tree, but something worth cherishing.

“M’Lord, pray tell, how exactly did you manage to tangle your hair into such a mess? And…”

You leaned forward on the small stool you were seated on, the wood creaking in protest as you shifted your weight. You buried your nose in wisps of Messmer’s damp red hair, the curls tickling the swell of your round cheeks as you took a deep breath. 

“I can smell smoke clinging to your red locks.”

A soft noise stirred in the back of Messmer’s throat, a hum of agreement as he offered no further response. Your ears rung as the sound of dripping water hit the tiled floor below your feet, a small puddle pooling just beneath the porcelain tub from Messmer’s arm hanging over the edge. You watched small water droplets race down his pale complexion, gathering at his fingertips and dripping from the jagged edges of his sharp nails. The light fixture dangling above your head gave you ample amount of light as you threaded your fingers through Messmer’s hair, eyebrows pinched in concentration as you thought about how you were going to start detangling the unkempt locks. You think there’s dried blood matting his hair when you start to wet the wild curls and the water turns red. You try and pay it no mind, as you start to scrub Messmer’s hair with the bar of soap clutched in your hands, lathering his scalp in a floral scent that was much more pleasant to your nose. 

Despite you tugging and pulling on his hair, Messmer didn’t offer any complaint as you continued to scrub the dirt and horrible stench from his red locks. In fact, he started to like the feeling of your nails scratching at his scalp as you worked meticulously, your firm touch making his head slowly roll back until the nape of his neck was resting against the rim of the tub. He stared up at you with his lone golden eye, your blotchy image fading in and out of focus as you continued to work. You felt the curious flicker of a forked tongue brush against your ear as one of Messmer’s snakes decided to use your shoulders as its perch, watching the movements of your fingers with thin, slitted eyes. You noticed the other snake also staring at you from the edge of the tub, the black wings on its serpentine body trembling in delight when you rubbed the tip of your finger against its scaly, scarlet nose. 

“You seem displeased” Messmer quietly murmured in a husky tone. 

You hummed softly as you shook your head, massaging your fingers through his hair as cool, red scales brushed against your warm cheeks. 

“I am not displeased. I am just concentrating.”

You cringed a little when you had to tug your fingers through a tough knot and you almost ripped an entire chunk of his hair out in the process. You really had to dig your fingers into his wavy hair to even have a chance of getting to his scalp. But it was worth it in the end when you grabbed the pitcher beside the tub, filled it with water and rinsed the soap suds from his hair. The way your fingers now effortlessly slid through his locks without catching in any tangles brought you an alarming amount of satisfaction. A smile touched your lips when you were finally finished. 

“Done!” you chirped, your voice echoing around the tiled walls. 

You placed the pitcher down as you stood from your seat, your aching knees singing with relief when you stretched your limbs. The snake perched on your shoulders was surprisingly heavy today, content to simply rest on you even as you started to move around the tub. You went to step away for a moment but was surprised when you felt something grab your arm and halt your movements. You looked back at Messmer, blinking owlishly in surprise as his long fingers curled around your wrist, nails intimately pressing into your plump flesh and leaving behind crescent shaped marks. You stared at his face as his parched lips parted around your name. 

“Join me.”

It seemed like more of a question than a statement. An open invitation for you to accept or decline. Both snakes were now staring expectantly at you as you turned the thought over in your head. With a smile you took a step back towards the tub, Messmer’s firm grip on your wrist now loose as you nodded. The back of your thick thighs hit the edge as you leaned against the tub, your smile still playing on your plush lips as the steam stemming from the hot water invited you to come closer. 

With how scant love and affection is within Messmer’s life, he himself is quite afraid of it. He doesn’t grasp the concept as well as most, seeing as the most love he’s known has led to strife and heartache. In fact, the closest thing to love he knows is limerence. Until you.

At first, he’s scared. Terrified. So scared it makes him sick. He isn’t scared of you or the relationship, but the change. He’s spent most of his life making sure no Tarnished gets close, much less live within his presence. So why does he take such a shine to you? Why does he allow you to quell the ever-burning embers of his rage? Change has never treated him right, so why would it now?

The first month or so, he is incredibly distant. He treats you more of a guest than a lover. But he still shows that he cares, or that he’s at least trying. Better accommodations, your own bedroom, and whatever else you could ask for. He allows you privacy (of course), so much so that it seems more like he’s distanced himself from you, and asked the Fire Knights to ignore your existence.

Eventually, he warms up to the thought of touch, words, etc. Sometimes you’ll catch his eye lingering on your face (and lips specifically) for a moment too long, he’ll “accidentally” nudge your hand with his, only to pull it away all too quickly. He spends more time with you too, often-times following you around the keep like a shy puppy when he has nothing else to do. He finds it hard to speak, however, too flustered to squeeze any words out. But still, he’s trying! It’s better to let him take the lead and take it at his own pace, despite how hesitant he seems.

The very first time Messmer actually properly held your hand was after a particularly long conquest. He was tired, completely and utterly. He had yet to wash the blood from his hands, or his snakes, and simply wandered throughout the keep until he found you. Never before had he been so confident, and yet, almost subconsciously, he had cupped your hands within his. He was gentle, incredibly so, simply staring down at your hands splayed out across his fingers. 

He had used this gesture as a way to calm himself down. Despite being, as he would describe it, a creature of war, it still tore at him. At what point would this crusade for a mother who hadn’t so much as gazed upon him in several thousand years end? When would he get respite? That wasn’t love, no, the Tarnished’s hands within his– so small and delicate compared to his, yet utterly perfect– was. From that moment on, he began to redefine ‘love’ for himself.

In his otherwise unaddled mind, he would’ve chastised himself for showing such weakness, even if his heart was completely overflowing for you. But, in the moment, all he finds himself doing is simply staring down at your hands within his, feeling the cold seep into his skin. You have never seen such a soft look on his face before, sorrowful and torn, perhaps even unsure. Is this truely what he was born to do? Kill, and kill, and kill, and burn, and plunder? There had never been such a time to ponder on this, or find the answer, until then.

From then on, he grows a little bolder. When you two walk around the keep – rare as it is – his hand finds yours. It starts with simply tapping the back of your hand with his, before linking pinkies with you. He’s too afraid to properly hold your hand, acutely aware of his size and perhaps even strength compared to yours. Despite his worries about that, he is so very gentle. 

Kissing is a whole different subject. Intimacy in general, as seen, is a pretty big leap for him. He understands that there must be more past tender touches and kind words, and he wants, so desperately, to achieve that. But he is truly afraid. It took him a lot of strength to get to the point where he could hold you, so I imagine it would take a lot longer to simply kiss you.

Unlike how it was with holding you, he finds the courage to do it in a much more quiet, and comfortable environment. Sure, the Keep is a ‘home’ to him, but it is still a space where the two of you could still be seen. Messmer, unfortunately, is still afraid of that prospect. It feels almost heretical, to openly display his love beyond gifts and treasure. 

So, after he had finally warmed up to the idea of you two sleeping in the same bed, he seems to grow a bit more fond of affection in general. It’s private, quiet, and safe. He permits himself to act much more leisurely, enjoying ‘lazy mornings’. Or, at least, the closest things to them. In the fleeting moments before reality sets in, he quite enjoys draping his arms over your body, sometimes pulling you in closer. It is a simple gesture, but one he’s quite fond of, nonetheless. To have the luxury of waking up to someone he dares to call beloved is rare. And he intends to enjoy every moment of it.

The first ever kiss he bestows upon you is during one of these mornings, a small, almost tentative, brush of lips to your forehead. Almost barely perceptible, like he decided to back out the minute his lips touched your skin. Just as you look towards him, Messmer is pulling back, a small, nervous smile painted on his lips. He looks hesitant, as if he is wondering if he can do it again. Not if you’d allow him (which, of course you would), but if he could find the courage to kiss you again. He doesn’t dwell on it much longer, leaning back in to press a fleeting kiss to your lips. Unsurprisingly, he is warm. So, very warm. His lips are chapped, but not necessarily unpleasant to kiss. As quick as the kiss is, it is something you could get used to.

And it becomes routine from there. A kiss in the morning and a kiss in the night, something awfully domestic. Sometimes it’s quick, sometimes his lips lingers, however it is never charged. When he lingers, it’s always a bit more emotional. Perhaps he’s had a particularly bad day, or he just… isn’t feeling well. Suddenly, something that seemed so far out of reach for him – love – had morphed into something far more… simple. Comfort. Perhaps it is the fact that this action has become so standard to him, or perhaps it is because of you, but these kisses help wash away any lingering insecurities. Maybe not the ones that have sunk their angry claws into his heart, but such simple affections are enough to allow himself to pick himself up, time and time again.

IT WAS THE FIRST TIME YOU ALL HAVE BEEN BACK WITHIN THE FABRIC OF TOKYO. But considering the danger of the curses that were still lurking about within areas you had known a long time ago, it was only the brave that were willing to go as far as to see the glimpses of what it had been. 

Yet with how life had panned out, you had to be brave. And people around you had to be brave, for you were not long for this world, the human you were. You were chasing time, in the way your husband and kids were not. It was better to be brave now, when it would be the legacy you leave to them. It would be the happiness of a life lived in bravery than a life lived in seclusion.

The sea in Kamakura was quieter than you expected. You could hear it from the small ryokan balcony. It was not the loud crashing kind from the way one would flash about postcards playfully, but a patient breathing that came from a long life lived and the eagerness now to have peace in your own time. 

The brash tide came in, and then out again, its sweeping waters slipped across the dark sand, leaving some stranded, only to then be pulled back again, carrying it back with it, almost like it had all the time in the world. 

You supposed it did. 

Your beloved husband Itadori Yuuji leaned against the wooden railing beside you, rolling up his shirt’s sleeves to the elbow. You remember being young and how intently you would watch him fold his sleeves, so carefully, so tenderly. And he still does the same thing, as you do the same thing with never ending fondness in your eyes.

The evening light caught his whitish-pink hair and made it almost the blinding echoes of silver melting into copper. He looked exactly like he had when you first met him, decades ago, when you were both kids who didn’t know your lives would lead here. Years of loving the same face, the same smile, the same soul.

Exactly that. He was the same. And he always will be. There would be nothing that would change about him. But immortality has always been like that  to any one who has to go through it and live it. It was a cruel miracle that kept him untouched for years, and you are devastated, heartbroken even.

Yuuji looks at you.

He smiles.

He’s more broken than you.

“Cold?” he asked gently.

You shook your head. “Just listening.”

He followed your gaze out toward the water. The horizon had begun to blur into evening, the pale blue sky slowly deepening into soft violet. From the small balcony of the ryokan, the sea of Kamakura looked endless, a long sheet of darkening silver stretching to meet the fading light.

Neither of you could find yourselves speaking, ultimately succumbing to sudden silence. Yuuji rested his elbows on the wooden railing, shoulders relaxed, the quiet sound of waves filling the spaces where words might have gone. You had shared silences like this for decades. 

For the two of you, it was the comfortable kind that came after a lifetime of talking, a lifetime no one would ever understand, a lifetime where you live with the kind of comfort that didn’t need explanation.

Behind you, the paper door slid open with a soft shhhk. Suddenly bright, beaming laughter spilled and echoed into the hallway, bright and chaotic, completely shattering the peaceful  quiet of the evening.

The two of you turned at the same time. 

Yuuji was the first to react.

He was the same with the kids too.

His face broke instantly into a grin, as it usually does. A grin that held that same wide boyish warmth, somehow as if the years had never managed to change how such dimples permeate through the beautiful face he holds. 

It was the exact same smile he had worn when you first met him, when he was still a reckless fifteen year old boy who believed every problem could be solved with optimism and stubbornness that you could not share with him.

Standing in the doorway were three of your young, budding grandchildren, who were all slightly out of breath and glowing with excitement, beaming through it all. “Grandma! Grandpa! Come look!”

Your youngest granddaughter burst forward first, bare feet slapping lightly against the tatami as she ran out onto the raised threshold. She nearly tripped over the wooden step, wobbling dangerously before catching herself.

“Careful!” you called automatically, though you couldn’t help smiling.

One of the boys hurried after her, clutching a small crinkled paper bag like it contained treasure. “We got fireworks from the shop, grandma, grandpa! Like the ones you used to buy for us at the corner store!”

The young excited fella lifted the bag proudly and shook it, the faint clink of thin sticks bumping together inside. Yuuji’s eyes lit up immediately. It was almost unfair how quickly his expression transformed before your eyes.

It was like someone had turned a switch inside him. He hadn’t truly looked like that for a while now. Yet you can suppose he needed to put on a show for the younglings. But you know better than that. He was happy to be joyous with them, like he used to be with your kids when they were younger. 

In an instant with your dearest grandkids, he looked decades younger. Finally matching such tenderness with the same essence of youth in his eternal face. There was endless excitement flashing across his face with the same energy he’d had in his twenties.

“No way, kiddos!” he said, crouching down in front of them with exaggerated disbelief. “Did you get sparklers?”

“Yes!” the kids answered in unison. “Uncle Wasuke gave it to us!”

You shook your head, laughing softly. “You really knew your uncle wouldn’t be able to say no to your cute faces, huh?”

“Then we have to do them on the beach.”

You sighed. “Too late to do it now. Everyone’s going to catch a cold if they go out.”

Yuuji waved you off. “Then we’ll figure something out! We’re gonna go and do this on the beach!”

“Yay!” The kids cheered, causing Yuuji to laugh.”

You laugh too. “You guys are impossible.”

There was no hesitation in your husband’s voice, no thought about the time or the cold or the sand that would inevitably end up everywhere. Everything in this moment was pure enthusiasm. You watched him kneel on the tatami floor as the children crowded around him, immediately trying to open the bag together.

“Hey, hey, slow down, kiddos.” Yuuji laughed heartily. “You’ll break them.”

“But grandpa, look—”

“Oh! You got the long ones!”

“They said these sparkle purple!”

“Whoa, purple?”

Soon the small entrance area of the ryokan had become a whirlwind of movement. And you were just happy to be a spectator, to watch it all happen. The paper bag was emptied across the floor instantaneously. Thin fireworks sticks rolled across the tatami. Someone accidentally kicked a sandal across the hallway. One of the younger ones tried to grab two sparklers at once. 

Yuuji was right in the middle of it, trying his best to help them sort through the fireworks. It was almost like watching your entire life flash before you all over again in that moment, almost like you were back in that small house with the bright garden on a summer night. 

You could remember how intently your husband Yuuji was with your three children, how intently he used to listen to every excited explanation they had, like he is now with the youngest grandkids. He would do the same, reacting like each of their little discoveries of the world were the most impressive things he had ever seen in his entire life. But perhaps that was what made it good. 

You leaned against the doorframe quietly, watching. He had raised three children with you, a whole beautiful life together from start to finish.  You still remembered the first one. You could only laugh to yourself as you remembered how it all happened then.

Itadori Yuuji was so intent on having a family and most of all with you, a big lively one at that.  He started like all husbands, all fathers do. He was so excited and so eager during the entire process, but even with all that in him, he still panicked in the hospital hallway, pacing back and forth like a caged animal who didn’t know what to do. 

Yet when Itadori Chouso was born, all that panic went away. When he saw you holding your first born in your arms, so beautiful in the glow of springtime, he was just stupefied into life. That moment, when he held Chouso, he held him like his son might dissolve if he blinked too hard. 

He was the same way with every single one of your children. He held Shoko the same way, and then Wasuke. And now that your precious children had children of their own, Yuuji beheld them the same way. With so much love, so much tenderness. Even when the times changed, your husband was always what he was. 

All the difference is that Itadori Yuuji still looked exactly the same, as did the kids too. And you were certain it would be the same for all the young children that were slowly growing. But just like you, they were mortal in the way your husband would never be. 

Perhaps that’s why you keep looking.

Even when you didn’t want to anymore.

You mourn for him as much as you love for yourself.

You take a deep breath. You were grateful that the small ryokan continued to feel alive as you lamented to yourself. It distracted you enough to not drown into the endless echo of melancholy. You knew you would not be able to get out of that hole. 

So you let yourself enjoy it all. How the voices overlapped across the hallway and echoed all throughout. You could hear how somewhere in the ryokan, someone yelled from the back room that they couldn’t find their socks. You think that’s Wasuke, trying to rally some of the other kids to help him find his socks. 

On the other corner of the ryokan, Chouso’s older daughters, along with Shoko’s eldest daughter were in the other room talking about what yukata they wanted among a huge pile that their mothers were slowly unpacking in time for the festival.

Chouso’s younger daughter said, a big pout on her lips. “I want the blue yukata!”

“No fair, you had it yesterday!” Her elder sister responded to her. 

“That’s because it’s my favorite!”

“Now, now, there’s plenty of yukata for everyone!” Shoko’s elder daughter tried to play peacemaker.

“No, I want that exact design!”

The older one put her tongue out. “Well, I don’t care!”

Tatami rustled under quick footsteps. The faint scent of the ryokan’s wooden beams mixed with the salt breeze drifting in from the open balcony. Your daughter Shoko appeared in the doorway, leaning her shoulder against the frame.

She watched the scene for a moment. Yuuji kneeling on the floor surrounded by grandchildren, sparklers scattered everywhere, hearing the chaos of the other rooms full of children, full of home. Full of life. She takes a breath, before her eyes shift toward you.

“Mom…..” she said softly. “Are you tired?”

The question was gentle, as careful as it could be. You noticed the way she looked at you reminded you so much of how Yuuji used to look at you when there were bad things that came and went in your long marriage. You shook your head.

“Not tonight.”

For a brief moment, her gaze lingered on your face. There was a quiet understanding there. Three weeks ago, she and her husband had been sitting beside you in the hospital when the doctor explained the diagnosis. She had heard every word you heard. 

She had seen the way Yuuji went completely silent afterward, when he had been told by Chouso and Wasuke, who looked just as devastated as their wives were. They haven’t told the kids yet. They think it’s not the right time.

Since then she has been watching you differently. Almost like she was already trying to find all the ways to keep you there. Like she was trying to memorize every part of you that a camera would never capture. But tonight she simply smiled.

“Good….That’s good.” she said, almost relieved. Then she glanced down at the chaos unfolding on the tatami floor. “Because dad promised to embarrass himself by lighting fireworks again.”

From the floor Yuuji immediately looked up, offended. “Hey! Don’t do your old man like this, Sho-bear. That happened once!”

Your grandson pointed dramatically. “Three times, grandpa!”

Another voice chimed in from the back room. “And grandpa screamed!”

“I did not scream!”

“You totally screamed!” his youngest granddaughter pointed out. “You said, “your grandma’s going to take my butt for this!” and then went wild!”

“Then you panicked and screamed about how the sparkler exploded!”

“It fizzled!” 

“It popped!”

Yuuji threw his hands up in exaggerated defeat while the kids dissolved into laughter around him. “Traitors, the lot of you.” he muttered dramatically, looking from one giggling grandchild to another like they had all personally betrayed him.

One of them clung to his arm, still laughing. “You did scream, Grandpa!”

“I did not scream, kiddo!” Yuuji insisted, though the grin tugging at his mouth completely ruined his defense. “Grandpa just over…estimated things!”

You couldn’t help laughing too. The sound rose quietly from your chest, warm and full, the kind of laugh that felt like it came from years of living rather than a single joke. It slipped into the lively air of the ryokan, blending with the children's high-pitched giggles and Yuuji’s mock protests.

For a few seconds, it was just noise and warmth and movement. Then heavier footsteps approached from the back rooms. Your eldest son appeared first, arms crossed and wearing the patient, slightly exasperated expression he had inherited from you. Chouso.

Behind him came Shoko, one hand guiding two smaller children who had clearly been running wild somewhere deeper in the inn. The youngest had a sock halfway on and the other dragging behind them like a small white tail.

And finally Wasuke followed, carrying a stray sandal and looking entirely too pleased with himself. Chouso sighed the moment he saw the state of the entrance. Suddenly the sparklers scattered everywhere.

Your husband Yuuji remained kneeling on the tatami, the grandchildren gathered in the room and started to do their best to crowd around him like excited sparrows. He rubbed his temple for a moment.

“Why do I feel like we left you three alone for five minutes and the entire place exploded?”

Shoko snorted under her breath as she finally herded the last two kids toward the group. “Took you two long enough to get your shit together.”

Yuuji’s head snapped up instantly. He pointed at the children around him. “Sho-bear, the kids—”

“Dad, please.” Shoko interrupted without missing a beat, “it was a tiny cuss.”

From behind her, Wasuke immediately broke into a grin. “Ha!” he laughed. “Dad scolds you.”

Yuuji groaned. “You can shut up now.”

Wasuke only looked more entertained, clearly enjoying every second of the situation. Chouso let out another long sigh, shaking his head slowly. “You two are such trouble.”

The tone of his voice tried to sound responsible. Unfortunately, it failed completely when one of his own kids immediately tugged on his sleeve asking for the fireworks bag. You laughed again, shaking your head at the whole ridiculous scene.

“You all are too much more like children than your children.”

That earned you a chorus of reactions. “Hey!” Yuuji protested.

“That’s not true, mom.” Wasuke said, though he was still grinning. “I’m an adult now.”

You hummed. “It doesn’t look like it, son.”

Wasuke laughed at that.

Choso looked mildly offended.

Shoko simply smirked.

Around them, the file of grandchildren continued poking through the fireworks like curious little investigators. One of them, a younger child, waved a sparkler stick in the air, almost too excitedly.

“Grandpa said we’re going to the beach!”

“Did he now?” Chouso muttered, giving Yuuji a look.

Yuuji lifted his chin proudly. “Of course I did. I did it with you kids when you were younger, didn’t I?”

Shoko leaned closer to him. “You’re the one lighting them, by the way.”

“Excuse me?”

“You screamed last time, though?” Wasuke looked confused.

“I did not scream!”

The kids burst into laughter again, as did the grandchildren. And for a moment, standing there in the doorway with your family filling the small ryokan with noise and warmth and life, the weight of hospital rooms and quiet diagnoses felt very far away.

The sterile smell of antiseptic. The quiet voice of the doctor. The careful pauses in conversation that followed afterward. All of it felt distant to you at that moment.  Here, there was only the soft scent of tatami and wood, the bright allure of the salty sea breeze drifting through the open balcony, and the overlapping voices of people who loved each other loudly.

Itadori Yuuji was still kneeling on the floor in the middle of it all, his legs still surrounded by sparklers as much as the kids remained interested about asking him questions by his feet. He was continuing arguing with Shoko while two grandchildren clung to his shoulders, who were laughing like little children.

Before long, that all died down for him as he found himself glancing back at you, even just for a second. His smile softened almost imperceptibly. He could not find it in him to let the same playful grin he wore for the kids, for the grandkids to be the same as his loving smile towards you. 

Everything with you was more intense, something quieter, something that was far more passionate and warmer. Yuuji knew that he was relieved you were here to see this, still here to be blessed by time.

He was glad you were here enjoying the beautiful messy chaos of your lives with a smile on your face, you were still here to be fond of his noise and laughter and ridiculous arguing. He couldn’t ask for anything more. 

“Are you going to the beach with us, grandma?” one of the younger boys asked you as he pulled at your kimono. 

You looked at your grandson, blinking. You then offered him a smile. “Of course, grandma wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

Itadori Yuuji felt his heart warm at that.

Yet there was some sort of dread.

How long would he survive without that warmth?

Without your smile?

He feared the worst.

“Alright, alright.” Chouso said as he clapped his hands together. “Everyone get your kids together. The walk is only five hundred miles to the shore, it's about six or so minutes.”

Shoko smiled. “Hm, alright.”

Wasuke looked at you. “You’ll be okay to go out tonight, mom?”

You looked back at him and then to the rest of your kids. You sighed and locked eyes with Yuuji. You smiled. “Of course.”

YOU FELT YOUR HUSBAND’S WARMTH THROUGH THE JACKET HE PLACED ON YOUR SHOULDER. It wasn’t even a few moments out the house before your worrywart husband put his jacket on you as he held you in his arms. You could only shake your head, lips bountiful with laughter as he tells you that he’s not being funny when it comes to you not catching a cold. 

You shook your head. After all this time, he’s still like this. And it only made you fall in love with him deeper, which one could only think impossible after being together for nearly fifty odd years. Yet it was still that way for you. You will always be falling in love with him, over and over again.

The beach was already far too dark when the moment settled around you, only finding light in the lit lamp canisters your kids and grandkids were carrying among themselves. The waves moved in long, patient breaths against the shore of Kamakura, sliding up the sand and retreating again with a whisper. 

The tide was low, leaving a wide stretch of cool damp shore where the children and the grandchildren had immediately taken over the moment you arrived. It was almost like they had  never seen a beach their entire lives. 

Some of them had run ahead the instant, removing their shoes and immediately letting their feet touch the sand, laughing among themselves as they played with the water. Shoko reminded people that they didn’t bring towels for those who decided to go swimming.

Some of the kids were all in awe at the thin trails of gold flickering through the night as the sparklers burned bright in their hands. Itadori Yuuji stood a few steps away lighting another one, the flame from the lighter briefly illuminating his face before the sparkler caught with a sharp hiss.  He handed it carefully to your youngest granddaughter like it was something precious. Her delighted gasp carried across the beach.

“Grandma! Look!”

You sat on the driftwood log he had brushed off for you earlier, hands folded in your lap as you watched them all scatter across the sand. For a moment, the scene looked almost unreal. Little streaks of gold dancing through the dark. Children shouting with joy.

Your grown children trying half-heartedly to maintain order while secretly enjoying the chaos themselves. And Yuuji. He was always in the middle of it, laughing with all his heart, boisterous and so young as ever. It made the night feel impossibly alive.

Five hundred miles. The number had stuck in your mind strangely clearly. Five hundred miles from the hospital room where the doctor had spoken softly, hands folded over the file in front of him. Five hundred miles from the quiet drive home afterward where no one knew quite what to say.

As everyone had their own fun, you couldn’t help but notice how your husband Yuuji had become almost despondent in silence as he watched everyone find the time to have fun among themselves. Wasuke had taken over lighting the sparklers for the children.

You walked softly, putting a hand on his shoulder. He didn’t look up to find your gaze. Instead, he places his hand carefully on top of your wrinkled one, his eyes staring straight ahead, into the distance. Almost trying to find something in the darkness of the boundless sea.

The night he was told the diagnosis, everyone was over at the house. But everyone seemed to be taxed from the amount of themselves they had put into this emotional rollercoaster and you couldn’t blame them. It was past one in the morning when you found him at the kitchen table.

He had his laptop open, his cold already gone cold. He was searching for train routes on the screen. On one of the tabs, there were lists of the top finds in Kamakura. On the other hand, the top ryokans are listed neatly in a website’s listing.

He looked up when he noticed you standing there. “Let’s go see the sea again.”

That was all he said. He hadn’t asked if you wanted to. He already knew. He already knew that everything was on borrowed time. And there was nothing else but to continue living on, pushing on. Taking advantage of the time that you could have with one another.

Now the ocean stretched out before you again. Everything was dark, everything was endless. Yet it was all so meaningful. It was still the same sea you had visited together when you were young and reckless and convinced that you were simply able to go on for forever.

And now, it was the same ocean where you were all trying to process living with the unimaginable, with the most human of all traits. With the possibility of the grim ripper waiting right behind you for the right time.

“Don’t think too much.” Yuuji said it all of a sudden.

Your brows furrowed. “I’m not—”

“You have that face again, when you’re too deep in thought.”

Before you could reply, you hear something behind you. “Hey! Don’t wave it like that!” It was Shoko’s voice that cut through the night. “That’s how you set your sleeve on fire!”

“It’s just a sparkler!” one of the kids protested.

Yuuji laughed. “They’re too much, aren’t they?”

“But you love them all the same.”

He seems to smile. “I don’t think I can love anything more than them.”

“I can say the same.” you smiled back to him. 

Before long, the sparks flared bright in the wind. The two of you rejoined everyone else in a few steps. Yuuji found himself crouched to hand it to one of the smaller children, steadying their wrist gently so the sparks didn’t scatter too wildly.

You watched him quietly. He looked exactly the same. The same shoulders. The same bright, open smile. The same easy energy in the way he moved. Decades have passed and things have changed in this world. The children are grown, the grandchildren are growing. You are too old, but your beloved Yuuji hasn't changed.

The contrast no longer hurts the way it once had. For years there has been a quiet tension between you. The strange unfairness of time pressing more heavily on one of you than the other. Now it simply felt like part of the story. It was just like the ocean. This ceaseless, endless run towards one direction. Finite in another.

Your son Wasuke suddenly waved from the sand. “Mom! Look!”

He spun a sparkler in a wide circle, creating a glowing ring in the air. You raised your hand in greeting, smiling. “I see you!”

Yuuji returned a moment later and lowered himself beside you on the driftwood. The wood creaked softly under his weight. He didn’t speak right away, and you soon followed suit. Instead, he just took in the need to have you close to him.  The children’s laughter carried through the wind as they ran through the dark with their trails of light.

“Worth the trip?” he asked finally. His voice was quiet, far too gentle for your liking. It suddenly hurts to feel the tenderness against your ears. “Warm?”

You leaned your head against his shoulder. The fabric of his jacket was warm beneath your cheek. “Always.”

The wind shifted, carrying the scent of salt and faint smoke from the dying sparklers. Out on the sand, another one fizzled out with a soft hiss. Your granddaughter ran over suddenly and climbed into your lap before anyone could stop her.

“Grandma!”

You laughed in surprise. “What is it, dearest?”

She pointed excitedly toward Yuuji. “Can grandpa teach me how to make a heart?”

Your husband Yuuji found himself standing, taking sparklers from her. He grinned big at her. “I don’t see any reason why I wouldn’t, kiddo!”

“Hurray!” 

Before long, your husband has lit the sparklers. Soon enough, he was trying to teach her the basics, all the while trying to make sure she was keeping a distance from the sparks. You intently watched and clapped when she did something clever. 

“Okay, now….grandpa’s going to teach you how to make a heart. So pay attention, okay?”

Your granddaughter grinned and cheered. “Please teach me, grandpa!”

“Okay, okay, have patience.”

But that patience didn’t pay off even when one had it. Itadori Yuuji then spent nearly half an hour trying to prove to you, to your granddaughter, that he in fact could make a heart using sparklers. Still, each attempt didn’t pan out. Until this one.

“Look, grandma! Grandpa made a heart!”

It looked nothing like a heart.

More like a crooked X glowing in the dark.

You laughed anyway.

A warm laugh that surprised even you. And in that moment, it was almost like all the worries of the world faded away. With the sea breathing slowly in the dark, your family scattered across the sand, and Yuuji glowing in a flickering gold light, it felt like it was normal. Almost like this was something that would never end.

Eventually the last sparkler burned down to its final ember. The golden light faded.  The children began to slow down and sit by the concrete benches scattered around the beach. In a matter of minutes, their calm tired yawns replaced all the excited energetic shouting.

Small feet dragged through the sand as the night air grew cooler. One by one they drifted back toward the stone steps leading up from the beach. Someone carried the waste of the wrappers in one bag. Another carried the empty sparkler bag like a prize.

One of the youngest had already fallen asleep against his Wasuke’s shoulder. Another had been leaning on both sides of Chouso’s body. Shoko nodded at her husband as he carried their youngest daughter, who was sleeping soundly in his arms. 

Soon the beach grew quiet again.

Your daughter approached you slowly and knelt in front of you, brushing sand gently from your sleeve. “Mom, we’re gonna head on ahead and bring the kids back to bed.” she said softly to you. “Are you staying?”

You gave her a look. “Sho—”

“Great, dad can help you walk back, okay?”

You knew exactly what she was doing.

Giving you the time you need with Yuuji.

You squeezed her hand. “Alright.”

She hesitated for a moment longer. Her eyes flicked briefly to Yuuji. Then she stood and called the others. “Alright everyone, let’s go.”

Groans followed. 

“I’m not tired!” one of Chouso’s older kids said.

“You were literally asleep two minutes ago!” Her cousin, Wasuke’s eldest, rebutted.

Slowly the small group climbed the steps toward the lantern-lit street.Their voices faded gradually into the night. There was lighter laughter and heavier footsteps. The faint murmur of parents guiding sleepy children home.

Until finally the beach was quiet again. Just the tide. And the two of you are sitting side by side beneath the dark Kamakura sky. Yuuji sat beside you in the dark, elbows resting on his knees. The ocean rolled in and out, steady as breathing. For a while neither of you spoke.

You had learned over the decades that silence between you was never empty.

Finally you said, softly, “Do you remember the first time we saw the sea together?”

He snorted a little. “You mean when I got dragged under by that wave?”

“You said you knew how to swim.”

“I do know how to swim!”

“You swallowed half the ocean.”

“That wave was cheating.”

You laughed again, quieter this time. It had been more than fifty years ago, on a cheap train trip with barely enough money for food. You had shared a single umbrella, a single room, a single future you were making up as you went. 

Back then you hadn’t known he would outlive you. Back then you hadn’t known you would reach seventy-five. The wind shifted, bringing the salt smell closer. Yuuji glanced at you for a moment, almost taking in the sight of all the years that had made you the person he loved most.

“You’re tired.”

“A little.”

“You want to go back?”

“Not yet.”

He nodded. He always listened like that, like whatever you said mattered enough to wait for. You studied his face in the faint light. The same eyes, once again.  The same soft expression he had when he looked at you, the one that had never changed, even after all the years.

“You never aged.” you said quietly.

He didn’t smile this time.

“I know.”

There had been fights about it once. In your forties, when the first gray hairs appeared. In your fifties, when strangers began assuming he was your son. In your sixties, when the grandchildren asked why their grandpa never got wrinkles even when his hair was turning white.

But those fights had passed.

Life had simply kept happening.

And you were finding a way to be content.

“Do you regret it?” you asked.

His head turned sharply. “What do you mean?”

“Being with me, staying like this.” you clarified. “Knowing how it ends.”

He stared out at the water. The answer came without hesitation. “Never.”

The word settled between you, firm and certain. A long wave rolled in and dissolved across the shore. You reached for his hand again. Your fingers were thinner now, skin lined and soft with age. His were still strong, warm, unchanged. 

But he held yours the same way he always had for these many years of life together. He held your hand like you were everything that made his world. Like you were the most precious person in his life. Like you were the universe itself. 

“Yuuji.” you murmured.

“Yeah?”

“When it happens…” Your voice faded. He waited. “…I can only hope that you don’t stay in that house too long.”

He frowned slightly. “That house is everything to me.”

“I know it is.” you shook your head. “But you’ll not live properly in a place holding so many memories.”

He looked down at your hands. “I’m allowed to remember.”

“You are.” you confirmed to him gently. “But you’re not allowed to stop living.”

A faint laugh escaped him. “That’s a tall order, isn’t it?”

“You married me.” you reminded him. “You’re used to impossible things.”

The tide crept closer to your feet. He finally nodded. “Okay.”

“Promise?”

“…I promise.”

The word felt heavy, but he meant it. You leaned against him again, closing your eyes briefly. The sound of the ocean filled the quiet. After a while he spoke again, softer than before. Softer than he had done his entire life.

“You know something?”

“What?”

“You always wanted to come back here when we were old.” he whispered to you. “We came here for our first trip alone together and you said you wanted to come back when we’re older.”

“I did?”

“Yeah. You said this place felt peaceful.”

You smiled faintly.   “Then I picked the right trip.”

Yuuji looked at you for a long time. The wind tugged gently at your hair. Your breathing had slowed. He brushed a strand of silver from your face, finding the woman he loved, and still loved, after all this time. He smiled, almost too sadly that it broke your heart.

“You know….” he said quietly. “Having seventy-five years of you in this world isn’t ever going to be something that is enough.”

Your eyes opened again, warm and knowing. “It was never going to be. If it was the other way around….I would feel the way you do.”

“It still feels too short. And so incomplete and I just…..”

You squeezed his hand. “Yuuji.”

“Yeah?”

“It wasn’t short.”

The ocean breathed in, its waves caving in and crashing. Then receding, only to crash outward again. His eyes widened slightly, before he looked away. For a long moment neither of you said anything. Then you shifted slightly, turning your face toward him, smiling.

“Yuu-kun, my dear Yuu-kun.” Your voice was soft, but it carried the same warmth it always had. Your eyes gleamed tenderly at him, a small smile resting on your lips. “Can I ask you a question?”

“What is it, my dearest [name]?” he asked quietly.

He took your wrinkled hands into his, just like he had thousands of times before. His fingers traced the lines in your skin with the same careful affection he used when you were young, when your hands had been smooth and restless and always reaching for him.

“Do you still recognize the person you fell in love with?” you asked, smiling gently.

Yuuji blinked, clearly caught off guard. “It’s been so long, and I just….I know you feel it, and you look at me that way.” you continued softly. “But I just….I’ve gotten so old and now that time is—”

“What sort of question is that?” He shook his head immediately, the movement sharp, almost panicked. His lips trembled. “Of course I do. I recognize everything about you. All of it.”

“Yuuji…”

“You could be five hundred miles from me.” he said, voice thick with emotion. “You could be on another planet and I’d still recognize you. I’d only love you. I’d only recognize you and my love for you.”

His grip on your hands tightened slightly, like he was afraid you might disappear if he let go. “You’re everything to me, [name]. You always will be. You will always be worth everything.” he finished, barely above a whisper. “How could you not be?”

The wind moved through the quiet beach again.

You watched him carefully. Your husband. He remained to be that boy you will always remember loving. This man who will never age, the man who will spend lifetimes after you. And yet he remains there seated. Tears threaten to form in your eyes but you blinked them away. Your smile deepened.

“I’m glad then.” you murmured. Your voice was quiet, almost carried away by the wind coming off the sea.

Yuuji frowned faintly beside you, turning his head just enough to study your face in the dim light. “Why?”

You looked out at the water again. The tide rolled in slowly, silver foam stretching thin across the sand before retreating again into the dark. You had never looked more beautiful, and devastatingly so, as you remain there in his arms, under the moonlight.

“Because that means…” you said after a moment, your fingers resting loosely in his hand, “…You’ll remember me properly.”

The words hung between you, gentle but heavy with meaning. Yuuji could feel his throat tightened. His hand brushes against his white streaks as he takes it all in. The idea of remembering had never frightened him before. 

Memory has always been something warm, everything about your life together in memories will always be warm. The photographs in the mind, old jokes retold at dinner tables, stories passed between generations. But now it feels different. Now it sounded too close to goodbye.

“I don’t want to remember you.” he said hoarsely. “I don’t just want to remember you.” The words came out before he could soften them. He looks devastated. “I want you to stay.”

His hand tightened instinctively around yours, as if he could hold you there by sheer will alone. As if refusing the idea might somehow make it untrue. You turned toward him slowly, your age keeping up with your movements.

The move took a little more effort than it once had, but your smile remained soft and patient. It was the same expression he had seen countless times across a lifetime. You lifted one hand and touched his cheek. 

The warmth of his skin hadn’t changed in fifty years. It was still smooth. And it will always be like this. Everything about him is still alive with the quiet energy that time had never managed to touch.

“You already kept me longer than the world would have promised.”

Yuuji closed his eyes briefly at the touch. His chest rose and fell slowly. When he opened them again, they shone faintly in the darkness. “That wasn’t long enough.”

The words were almost stubborn, as they always have been. Like the boy he had once been, the one who believed problems could be solved simply by refusing to accept them. You smiled at that familiar stubbornness.

“Maybe not, Yuu-kun.” you agreed softly. Your gaze drifted back toward the ocean. “But time is the greatest thief.”  The tide rolled in again, patient and inevitable. “And yet it’s also the most merciful giver.”

The wind moved gently through your silver hair as you spoke. You smiled at him. “If time had not been so generous…we would not have had the life we had.”

You thought of all the years folded quietly behind you in that moment, coming in flashes that made you long for them with nostalgia in your heart. First apartments with leaky ceilings. Late nights rocking crying babies. Family dinners so loud the neighbors once complained.

The way Yuuji used to fall asleep halfway through movies because he insisted on working too hard during the day. The day your daughter first rode a bicycle without falling. Your son’s terrible haircut phase in middle school.

The day your kids each announced that they were all getting married. The day they all went off and achieved the things they wanted. The first time each and every grandchild wrapped their tiny fingers around yours.

All the ordinary days.

All the little moments that built a life.

Another wave rolled toward the shore.

Foam spread thin across the sand before dissolving quietly back into the sea. Yuuji followed your gaze. For a long moment, neither of you spoke. Then his fingers tightened gently around your hand again. As if he were trying to memorize the shape of it.

“I love you.” He whispers against you. “Five hundred miles, or to the universe, I love you.”