#cw.fluff

MONTH 0: WEEK 3

Dear pumpkin,

Your daddy and I just found out you’re already making a home in my tummy this morning. Amazing how things escalated, but we’re not complaining at all. I never thought you were the reason as to why I was suddenly feeling sick, thinking it was the sushi we ate the previous week. But turns out, I’m the only one feeling this way. The doctor told me you’re the size of a poppy seed right now. You’re so tiny… Can’t wait to hear your heartbeat angel and have sonograms of you. Your daddy is just as excited as I am. We all are, especially his colleagues. Love you so much, pumpkin.

“The lady back in the clinic, she told you to do this?” Manjiro peeked past your shoulder to see what you have written on paper. Hand absentmindedly rubbing your stomach, you hummed in agreement with a soft smile gracing your lips. Thoughts slightly distracted at the idea of a small life now growing inside of you, a product of you and your husband’s love. That and the endless nights of leaving Bonten’s headquarters earlier than the rest to have fun. While Manjiro never told you he wanted children this early, he was never opposed to the idea at all. Although, it did come as a surprise after today’s visit to the nearby clinic. And despite how hard he tried to remain emotionless, you definitely caught your husband shedding and wipe a tear out of happiness while he held your hand as the doctor announced your pregnancy.

“She said she did this with her firstborn many years back.” Relaxing into his palm that held the back of your neck, you watched as his onyx eyes read the words you wrote. A ghost of a smile on his lips. “I thought the idea is a good one. Not only for, you know, memories but for our little pumpkin, too. Something for them to read…”

“Pumpkin?”

You nodded. “Yeah, isn’t it a cute nickname? It’s better than to give them an odd one just to be unique, ‘ya know?”

“Would you also be writing that you’ve caused the scarcity of ice cream at the nearby 7-eleven?”

Whether he was joking or not, you couldn’t tell with the way he sounded so serious. Either way, you pouted at his words and crossed your arms together. “Wow, as if I’m the only one who ate ice cream these past few days.” Brow raised at him, you then squinted your eyes at your silent husband avoiding your piercing gaze. “I know you’re the one who ate my Häagen-Dazs, ‘Jiro. There’s no point in lying or dodging this.”

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, angel.”

MONTH 1: WEEK 5

Dear little pumpkin,

Today was pretty unpredictable. I went to the clinic feeling a bit sad since your daddy said he might not make it to hear your heartbeat. If you will ask me why, please be patient since it isn’t something kids should know. Still, I will tell you once it is the right time. But just as I was about to head in, your daddy arrived with your Uncle Sanzu, as he would like to be called, in tow. Once again, I’ll tell you in full detail soon how chaotic it was. What matters is that we heard your adorable heartbeat. Your daddy cried at the sound of it and I did, too. You’re definitely growing day by day, my angel.

Eyes wide, your mouth was agape at the abrupt entrance of your husband and his right-hand man, Sanzu Haruchiyo. Blood splatters on their attire close to gleaming under the white light of the clinic. The mothers outside waiting for their turn along with their husbands were clearly suspicious and alarmed by their appearance. Who wouldn’t be at the sight of Bonten’s higher-ups and the evidence of their recent carnage in the clothing they wore? However, nothing mattered at that moment other than Manjiro's presence and the effort he had to exert to be here.

“I’m sorry if I wasn’t able to text you that I’ll be here,” Manjiro whispered, placing a kiss on your cheek before you were asked to lay on the bed. Those steely dark eyes never leaving you, ready to pounce on anyone who’d be stupid enough to hurt you while he’s around. “Was too caught up on getting here on time. Won’t happen again on the next visits, I swear.”

“It's okay, love. I’m just happy you’re here now,” you murmured, left hand in his and fingers intertwined with a squeeze. A comforting smile is what you shot him upon seeing how rigid his stance is while sitting on the stool beside you. “Don’t worry too much, ‘Jiro…”

“How can I not?” he whispered, still following your obstetrician’s every move. “You know I have a lot of enemies, angel—” The rest of his words died down when the hem of your shirt was lifted by the doctor. His thoughts were drowned by the initial fear of his enemies bursting through the door that Haruchiyo was guarding like an unmovable force. That was all that occupied and ran through his mind until a heartbeat broke through his noisy state of mind. Onyx irises locked with yours that were glassy as the sound of your baby’s heartbeat resounded in the four walls of the room. His grip on your hand tightened, although not painful or uncomfortable in any way. No, it was out of relief and other combinations of emotions that came out in the form of teardrops. “Angel, is that…?”

MONTH 2: WEEK 7

Dear darling pumpkin,

My love for you grows stronger as the days pass by. It hasn’t been easy waking up and feeling squeamish. Everything is changing, specifically mommy’s body to accommodate your nine-month stay. Sometimes, I eat food paired oddly that I normally wouldn’t even consider putting near my mouth. Thankfully, your daddy doesn’t say a word about it. You may see him as aloof at times, but he truly cares for us. This morning during breakfast, a rare sight of him cooking pancakes greeted me. And despite how he is rarely home due to the nature of his job, he comes back as much as he can and earlier than the usual times I’ve gotten used to seeing him. He can’t help but get excited to feel you kick soon. I kind of dread it though, cause some mothers say it will hurt at times. However, if it means you are healthy, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

You stifled a gasp, head buried further into the pillow. Sweat coated the flesh under your chin. Sensitive—your breasts were super sensitive that you were quite sure if Manjiro would pinch them one more time, you’d cry out. Heavy was his gaze, hands cupping and fondling your tits. This wasn’t a new occurrence since your husband has always been fixated on them ever since. What was new, however, was the idea of tasting milk from them once you were lactating revolving in his mind among other things. No matter how many times you told him it hasn’t happened yet, Manjiro couldn’t stop massaging your nipples.

“Love, I-I need to pee…”

“Wait,” he murmured, leaning down to suck on one of the peaks, eliciting a muffled whine from you. The heels of your feet digging into the mattress at the touch of his tongue, hot breath awakening goosebumps on the flesh. “Lemme play more. Don’t you miss me?” Mouth pressing a chaste kiss on your left tit, he grinned down at your flustered expression. “Weren’t you just complaining that they’ve become tender?”

“Yeah, but…” Softly hissing, you fought back a moan when he popped the breast into his mouth, sucking on it gently. Ignorant to your nudges for him to leave you alone so you could pee. “‘J-Jiro, I really, really, need to go.”

MONTH 3: WEEK 9

Dear precious pumpkin,

Sometimes I couldn’t sleep at night because I worry about your future. Your Uncle Sanzu blames it on the prenatal pills, but I hardly think that is the cause. I guess it is one of the many things I have to get used to now that I’ll have a child. Plus, there are times when I look in the mirror and see the effects of lack of sleep… It makes me sad. Lucky for me, your daddy has been nothing but supportive. No one at his organization believes he got out of bed at four in the morning to buy the cup of pudding and chilly sauce I wanted to snack on. The doctor said you’re about the size of a macaroni or an olive. Crazy to think a tiny being like you is making all these changes in me. I hope you’re growing well and healthy inside, angel.

Manjiro was close to throwing the mirror you were holding up to your face across the room or out the window and down to the busy streets of Tokyo. There was nothing wrong with getting acne or your stomach slightly bloating. To him, you were the prettiest woman he had ever laid eyes on and will always be until the end of time. But of course, you wouldn’t take his words for truth which frustrated him. And to think you were just doing your routine skincare before bed that led to this situation.

“Love, do you think I’m—”

“You’re not ugly. Practically fucking far from it, angel.” Taking his shirt off, your husband narrowed his eyes when you frowned in disbelief. It wasn’t until he threw his shirt on the nearby basket that he spoke up again, this time, his tone was more solemn. “Why on earth would you, my wife and the one carrying my child, ever be hideous in my eyes? Huh? It doesn't make sense. Explain that to me.”

“I don’t know…” you sniffled softly, warm tears starting to form and blurring your vision. Hand setting the mirror down that Manjiro was quick to pick up and flung it to the couch. It was a miracle it didn’t shatter with the way he threw it like it was mere dirt. Strong arms envelop your form, albeit not tight enough to cause discomfort for he was afraid to hurt you or the baby. Figure melting into his embrace, you inhaled the faint scent of the fabric softener from his shirt. “Sorry if I’m so emotional.”

“It’s alright, love.” Body pulling back slightly to grab your hand, he pressed a kiss on your knuckle. “Don’t ever think I’d see you as ugly because you’re fuckin’ beautiful. Especially now that you’re having my baby, angel. So fucking beautiful.” Hand patting your belly, he added in a more light-hearted tone. “And so is our baby.”

MONTH 4: WEEK 15

Dear adorable pumpkin,

Your daddy and I were super happy today. Not only do we get to eat at a delicious restaurant to celebrate such a momentous occasion, but we finally got to see you, my angel. As you can see in the photo below, you’re so cute and I wish I could hold you soon. The doctor said you’re the size of a pear and your daddy couldn’t help but marvel at the fruit, holding and imagining it’s you. I hope you could also hear him talk to you every night. I can’t wait to know whether you’re a girl or boy, but that doesn’t matter much to me for as long as you stay healthy. Love you so much, my sweet angel.

Looking at the sonogram of your baby, you winced when a tingling sensation ran in your gums as you chewed on the apple slices your husband prepared. Rim of the glass of water against your lips, you set the photo down and got up from the couch to look for Manjiro. The craving for ice cream, cotton candy and juice was aggravating you, especially since you were asked to cut back from the sugary stuff. The sight of your husband by the refrigerator snacking on a taiyaki made you groan in jealousy that caught his attention.

“What’s the matter?”

“Lucky you could continue eating sweets,” you mumbled, nearing the refrigerator to grab the leftover salad. Heading back to the living room couch with Manjiro in tow, you raised a brow when he didn’t sit next to you. Chewing and swallowing the avocados, lettuce, and strawberries, you raised a brow at him. “What? Come and sit down, ‘Jiro. I won’t bite. Wanna watch a movie?” Not waiting for his response, you grabbed the remote and switched the television on. Careful not to step on your toes or breathe the wrong way in your direction, your husband settled next to you.

Despite how quiet he is the entire duration of the film, he was thankful the deities above heard his prayers for once. The last time he annoyed you by just eating his sweets on the couch was the worst, having him evicted to sleep in the guest room.

MONTH 5: WEEK 18

Dear pumpkin,

I hope you are sleeping soundly in there. Sometimes, I feel like you’re trying to say something to me since I feel a sort of bubbling or fluttering inside my belly. Are you happy there? You’re getting bigger indeed and I can’t help but feel emotional every time. Daddy vows to keep you safe, especially now that I’ve become bigger and sometimes my lower back hurts. I can’t even believe I almost forgot about our anniversary. The doctor did say it is part of being pregnant that I tend to become forgetful. I just wish I wouldn’t get so dizzy easily. And if you must know, I decided to ask the doctor to keep your gender a secret in the end. Your daddy and I wanna be surprised after all. One of his friends told us to hold a gender reveal party, but your daddy loves his privacy like he loves his sweets. I hope you stay healthy as ever, my angel.

Manjiro wiped off the sheen of sweat from your forehead and chin using a washcloth. A satisfied smile on his usual passive features mirrored yours after a round of kissing and more. The dress you wore for tonight lay folded on top of his clothes. The gold Cartier bracelet he gifted you gleamed under the warm lamp light. Chest rising and falling to a steady pace, you reached up to cup his cheek, mouthing a ‘thank you’ to him. He pressed a kiss to your hand. Your husband then ran his palm smoothly on your belly. His black irises roved across your skin, caressing the stretch marks that streaked on your abdomen.

“You okay? Do you think the baby is alright?”

“Yeah, I’m more than fine. I’m sure the baby is, too.” Pointing to the direction of the bathroom, you slowly sat up. “I have to pee—mmph.” Carrying you in his arms gently, Manjiro didn’t say a word after he gave you a chaste kiss on the lips as he walked to where the toilet is. “I could get there by myself, you know. But thank you.” You giggled at his show of strength, arms wrapped around his neck and pecked him there. He merely hums in approval.

MONTH 6: WEEK 23

Dear little pumpkin,

There may be nights when bad guys might be out and about. But no matter what, I will keep you safe. Away from harm and silly ghosts that might try and scare you. However, we both have to be brave when we need to be. Your Uncle Sanzu suggested that we get a guard dog, but I think getting you a puppy once you’re a bit older to understand would be better. Plus, I don’t think your daddy is ready to welcome a puppy into the penthouse just yet. You’re a bit heavy now and it is sometimes hard to walk with swollen feet so your daddy is worried about my safety. Yesterday, I felt you kick hard in the middle of the night, which got me all giddy that your daddy got a bit spooked. You do pick the strangest moments to make yourself know, huh. Love you my darling.

“Woah, calm down.” You then sighed, rubbing your startled husband’s back after squealing out of delight at feeling your baby’s strong kick. The gun in his hand glistened under the moonlight, one he kept religiously under his pillow if anyone decided to sneak up on him while he was asleep. According to him, it has happened before—way back when he was still starting out Bonten. Thankfully, it hasn’t occurred since. But one can never be careless. Watching the way Manjiro tried to calm himself down and place the weapon into the nightstand’s drawer, you waited for his breath to even out. “Sorry if I scared you, love. I was… just excited.”

His eyes turned to look at you before asking. “What got you squealing in the middle of the night?” His voice was hoarse from sleep, eyes still squinted until you guided one of his hands to your huge belly. The bright grin on your face said it all. Happiness is certainly contagious that those soulless eyes had a tiny spark in them, fatigue immediately dissipating.

“I felt the baby kick, ‘Jiro. It was a strong one, too.”

“Really? Do you think it’s as strong as mine?”

“If it were, I’d have a hole in my tummy.”

MONTH 7: WEEK 26

Dear sweet pumpkin,

A few more months to go and you’ll be here in my arms. The doctor said you’re about the same size as a red cabbage. She also said you’ll be able to hear and see inside my tummy. After knowing that information, I’m sure you’ve been listening to the classical music I’ve been playing. Upon searching on the internet, it’s supposed to make you smarter. Your daddy is always looking forward to feeling you kick. I do wish he is around more often around this time of the year. But I can’t blame him since his job can be demanding. I hope you don’t feel lonely like me and enjoy the food I’ve been eating to keep you healthy. Love you so, so, much my little angel.

Feet aching and swollen, you shot a glance at your husband speaking with Sanzu and Kakucho. The bento box you made for you and Manjiro sat on the coffee table, still untouched. The trip to his office was an uneventful one, yet you were buzzing with joy upon riding the elevator up to where he is. However, you weren’t anticipating the meeting to take longer than planned. Hiding your discomfort was futile as a hiss of pain left your lips when you tried to move and get comfortable. Manjiro’s eyes were immediately on you, excusing himself to approach you and get on his knees to apply pressure on your swollen right foot.

“Angel, does it hurt so much?”

Seeing the lingering gazes of the two higher-ups of Bonten, you coughed. Silently hinting for Manjiro to stand up from his kneeling position. But that didn’t matter to him, brows pinched as he added more pressure to where it ached, having you almost moan out in contentment. Kakucho was the first to notice his boss’ sharp glance, quickly leaving the room. Sanzu, on the other hand, had the audacity to stay for two more minutes until your husband stood up and gestured to the door. Apologizing softly at the retreating pink-haired executive, you sighed in relief when there were no more judgemental eyes, back sinking further into the couch. Manjiro let out a puff of air at your actions, shaking his head lightly before resuming his massage on your foot.

“‘Jiro, that can wait. We must eat lunch first,” you muttered, yet lacked the conviction to have him stop completely which he noticed. “I bet you’re starving. You did skip breakfast to get here early…”

“Yeah, just let me finish this,” he murmured, continuing the kneading of your foot that produced more soft groans and asking him to do it harder from you. If anyone were to pass by, they’d think you two were having sex instead of a wholesome scene between husband and wife.

MONTH 8: WEEK 30

Dear lovable pumpkin,

Your daddy is such a silly man at times. You’re still in my tummy yet he wishes to give you a sibling so you wouldn’t be lonely while growing up. And while I’m opposed to the idea, I want to love you with all of my heart first as I will do so for your future siblings if there would be any. It is quite hard to walk around the penthouse because you’ve become so big and heavy. I look like a penguin waddling around, but your daddy says it is a cute sight to see. It won’t be long until you’re here with us. Everyone is so excited that Koko, one of your father’s friends, gifted us baby clothes. Suggested names for you were tossed onto the table, but it is quite hard to decide since we did keep your gender a secret. Please continue to be healthy, even if that means you kicking my tummy most of the time at night. I love you so much, my baby.

Mewling into the neck of Manjiro, you then let out a gasp when something leaked out of your breasts after he pinched your nipples. Many nights have passed since you were able to sleep peacefully. Backaches, more stretch marks, swollen feet, and the baby kicking was enough to keep any pregnant woman awake most of the night. Now that you were lactating, your tits were far more sensitive than ever. Your husband didn’t share the same bothered sentiment as you, contented in kneading and tasting the milk you were producing in the wee hours of dawn.

“Love, I-I don’t think I could take it anymore,” you sobbed, trying to pry off his hands from pinching your nipples until they were rock hard. “Aren’t you t-tired? You’ve been at it since we got to bed!” A stuttered breath from you met the skin of his neck when he leaned down to lick off the milk that dripped down to his hands. It was such an obscene sight that would have your hormones acting up, leading down to the path of soft sex but not tonight. You were far too exhausted for that now. “P-please? ‘Jiro, let’s g-go to bed.”

“Fuck. More, baby, let me see these tits leak one more time. Yeah? Just one last time and we’ll sleep.”

MONTH 9: WEEK 39

To my dear pumpkin,

These past few months have been the most magical I’ve ever experienced. Who knew having a baby was such an amazing thing? But I won’t deny how terrifying it can be, especially when the world you’re about to be born in is far from the common life that an ordinary mother can provide. Yet, know this… Mommy and daddy won’t give up on trying to give you a normal life, one that you deserve to have. Your father swears that he will keep you safe as he promised me back then, too. And I promise to be the best mother you could ever have. Time flies so fast indeed that I can’t believe we’ll be welcoming you soon. I can’t wait to hold you in my arms, my little pumpkin. Your daddy is even giddier than I am, although he tries hard not to show it since I tease him. I hope that once you read this diary of our journey together, I hope it shall not only bring a smile to your face, but to those with whom you’ll share it.

See you soon, my darling angel!

“Say hi to the baby, angel,” Manjiro cooed, holding up his daughter wrapped in cloth. Smiling brightly at the baby girl, you reached out a hand to caress her hand that was wrapped around her father’s finger. Tears brimmed your vision. You fought back a sob as took in her tiny appearance. Eyes memorizing the curve of her lips and the shape of her eyes.

“Hi, pumpkin… It’s me, your mother.” Manjiro handed you the child, the corners of his lips curled up in undiluted happiness while he bent down to kiss your forehead and face multiple times. Love in every peck and whisper of you doing a good job after ten hours of labor. The pride in his chest was at an all-time high. “You’re so small and so beautiful. Yeah, look at you. She’s so beautiful, ‘Jiro.”

“Beautiful indeed,” Manjiro said in a hushed tone, still pressing kisses to your face. “My two angels. Thank you, baby. Thank you for giving me a beautiful daughter.”

You with your soft smiles and unconditional kindness, you with your beautiful hair and loud voice, you with your wonderful cooking that tasted like home and your caring instincts.

You came along almost by accident, stumbling into their lives after a mission, taking it upon yourself to make sure Yuuta got back into health and wouldn’t let him out of your sight until he had cleared his plate. Making sure he got a proper night of sleep and even coming around in the middle of the night to make sure he was tucked in safely and hadn’t ran away to answer his sensei’s sporadic demands.

You who she thought were trying to steal him away from her, just like everyone else before you.

She had tried, so hard, to protect him, tooth and nail, all her entire existence was devoted to him, so much she could be considered an extension of his person. But not with the way you suddenly decided that since she was his shadow she too deserved love and care.

No one but him had ever been kind to her, but your gentle words and tentative tries to approach made the growls slowly melt away into soft hums, the sharpness of her claws blunting out so she would not hurt you if she approached you and her form suddenly not being so imposing looming over you whenever you came around his place to make sure he was taking care of himself.

It hadn’t been an instant nor easy process, it took so many tries, so many extra plates you made for her because you weren’t sure if curses could consume human food thrown back at you, shattered against the wall, so many times Yuuta had to come up between the two of you just to make sure she wouldn’t bite your head off, but slowly but surely she realised you weren’t trying to manipulate him into liking you or lower his guard.

You were doing it out of the goodness of your heart, thinking how sad it must be to not have someone cook for you nor care for you other than your lover, to be perceived only as a monster by everyone who encountered you, to be considered just a prop or an extra weapon by other sorcerers.

And like him you decided to make her live again, you made her rediscover the wonder of cooking, of girly things and the most precious to her of all, the wonders of haircare, which she had missed since her body decided to deform into a wretched creature. She would spend hours playing with your long black hair, so soft and so shiny just like hers had been before she died, and you would let her.

You were different from everyone else, you weren’t scared of her, you didn’t try to harm her because of how she presented, you didn’t want to separate them.

You treated her just like him.

And that’s why you were perfect to her.

Toasted bread on paper plates and tiny jars of jams ranging from your favorite variety to his sat on the dining table still covered by protective paper. Disposable wooden cutlery Souya has accumulated whenever you two decided to eat outside was put to use. The plates and everything else supposed to occupy the kitchen were still sealed in their boxes. Yesterday was exhausting, filled with carrying boxes and making sure nothing important was left behind in the old apartment you two used to call home for almost three years. There was no time to start unboxing and the moment you two finished dinner, Souya crashed next to your sleeping form after making sure the front door was locked. His soft snores did little to no damage to your own dead ears, mind, and body too exhausted to care about what surrounded you.

And contrary to some people, hearing your boyfriend snoring was comforting. It was a telltale sign he was right here, beside you, and dreaming away. Not off somewhere where you didn’t know or couldn’t reach. But if you were to be asked who was the clingiest one, you could probably say it is Souya. It was evident in the way he would hold you tight even with his eyes closed or the fact he wanted to do everything with you if there was a second to spare in both of your hectic lives.

Not that you mind, of course. Sleeping until it was close to lunchtime or brushing your teeth together was an ideal bonding time on both of your days off. A piece of heaven in the usual voyage through a stormy sea. These moments gradually increased when the time to move to the new apartment grew closer.

Today, however, was going to be different. No lazying around or doing the stuff you usually do during your cheat day. Or so you planned it to be.

Your goal to get out of bed by seven in the morning to start arranging things and emptying boxes was thwarted when you opened your eyes to the digital clock telling you it was way past nine. Souya was out of bed, though. After you were finished fixing up the bed and grabbing the fallen pillows, you maneuvered your way through the hall littered with unopened boxes to the direction of the kitchen. There he was, toasting bread and cooking eggs for two. Paper plates sat empty on the dining table along with other disposable cutlery and cups. The cute pink apron you normally don was wrapped around him, probably because he couldn’t find the blue one that paired with yours. The box that contained the kitchen items lay opened on the side, a sign of someone going through it was obvious as the other things were gently stacked to the side in search of what your boyfriend needed.

A gasp of surprise that morphed into a hum of delight traveled to your ears when Souya felt your arms wrap around his waist, nuzzling your cheek into his warm back. Both of you stood there in silence, waiting for him to finish while he hoped the eggs would cook faster. His wish was granted and he immediately turned the stove off to spin around, kissing you squarely on the forehead.

“Mornin’, sweetie.”

At the new endearment, you playfully quirked a brow. “Wha—sweetie? What happened to ‘babe’ or ‘baby’?” You expected this, though. Souya’s twin brother was quite an influence and the other was one who listened to whatever Nahoya deemed ‘romantic’. So, it was no surprise that your boyfriend tried out the advice of his brother to give you a new way of calling you since moving into a new place was close to starting a new life.

Not that you minded. It’s quite fun and Souya always tends to fluster, resembling spring melting away snow and giving wake to new blossoms.

“I don’t know,” he mumbled, trying to hide his embarrassment by looking away and pretending to be busy with the toast. “Sweetie just sounds… cute?” He failed to see the grin on your face that spelled you not buying his reason and decided to stride towards the table. The tips of his ears were red and obviously growing warm as you continued to smile. “A-anyway, what do you wanna eat for lunch? We can head out and get groceries. Didn’t you say you needed to buy more milk?”

Sitting across his seat, you hummed in agreement while patiently waiting for him to sit down. Breakfast was rarely a time when both of you sat down together and ate. It was either late dinners or a midnight raid to the fridge where you two usually eat together during mind-numbing days.

However, the universe wasn’t that cruel to keep that up forever. Of course, there were going to be grace periods—today was one of those.

“Yeah, we need more of those. Yesterday I had to throw the last box because it was already spoiled,” you answered as you made a grab for the wooden knife to slice the sunny side up. “Also, we have to buy some avocados. Heard they’re gonna be on sale starting today.”

Sunlight flooded into the glass windows that were bare of curtains, letting in the natural light that somehow made Souya’s rosy cheeks glow even more while he laughed at the corny joke you made about avocados. The scent of toasted bread and coffee wafting around in harmony. His laughter mixing with yours in the barely filled place echoed slightly, bringing life into the new apartment, and that simply made your day even better.

“I can’t believe you still laugh at my jokes,” you mumbled, hoping not to burn your tongue with how pipping hot the coffee was. An emotion swirled in those oceanic hues, capturing your gaze and causing your heartbeat to speed up a little. When Souya refused to elaborate, you raised a brow and smiled. “What? I admit my jokes are lame.”

Shaking his head, Souya reached his hand out to touch yours. “And I can’t believe you still think you’re not funny.” Such a statement wouldn’t have you flustered, but when it’s your boyfriend who said so, your cheeks can’t help from mimicking the coffee’s warm temperature. “Your jokes are never lame to me, sweetie.”

Mirthful laughter poured out of your mouth. “Again with the sweetie…” you then mumbled before continuing with your breakfast. Souya squeezed your hand gently. Neither of you two wanted to pull away despite the difficulty of eating with only one hand.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“You done over there?”

Souya peeked into the doorway to find you squatted next to the box containing your things that were supposed to be in the wardrobe until you got sidetracked. New and old photo albums sat on your feet, others scattered to your right. Forgetting his question, you held up the first photo you took with Souya back when he was still courting you and smiled. Blue eyes sparkled at your happy expression, his heart skipped a beat at the giddy giggle that escaped your mouth at the image of you two. The slight awkwardness was bleeding from the photo—the way you and Souya were smiling weakly at the camera together with the meek peace signs. Despite this, the captured memory did not do any justice to what occurred that day.

“Look, baby! We were so young back then, huh?” you gushed, eyes shining at the memory. The photo existed on your phone and you had it printed to place into the album. Other photos of you and Souya together filled every page. It may not be fascinating to the untrained eye, yet to those who knew love in all its forms, there was no denying such an emotion bound you two together. And here you are, facing life in all its ugly and beautiful phases. Even the mediocre days were better spent with one another than being apart.

“You hardly changed in appearance. You’re beautiful,” Souya whispered with a fond smile. His body heat and warm breath drew you near him, wanting to curl up next to him and forget the worries that tomorrow may bring. Such a temptation was poisonous to your goal of making the new apartment cozier. Still, a sigh that is borderline between exhaustion and affection escaped your mouth while you leaned against the palm of his hand that cupped your face. Souya’s gaze softened at the display of vulnerability that was exclusively only for his eyes as was his to you. It should be a crime for you to be so beautiful that you stir his heart despite doing nothing at all.

How did he get so lucky? When did the stars align to point him in the right direction which was in your arms?

Shit, he’s falling in love with you all over again.

“Souya, don’t do this right now…”

But of course, nothing will ever be finished with you both procrastinating or gazing into each other’s eyes like hopeless romantics. You coughed before closing the album, giving your boyfriend a teasing grin. To distance yourself from him would be akin to inviting the death of your heart, yet it had to be done or you were going nowhere. You already made the mistake of wasting time looking through pictures which led Souya to abandon his task of cleaning up the living room when he spotted you.

Souya and you can’t get distracted. Not now, at least.

“I’m only telling you the truth, babe.”

“Really? Is this how you’re gonna keep me preoccupied? You know we’re gonna eat at a late hour again if we keep putting things off. We can both mess around later,” you wiggled your brows playfully to which your boyfriend responded with a laugh and a pinch to your cheek. “Didn’t we agree not to get sidetracked?”

“Yeah, we did.”

“So… why are we standing around here like fools?”

“Because we… can?”

You couldn't help but tease him more. “You don't sound sure. Plus, if we continue this, preparing dinner will be too bothersome. You know how washing dishes in the middle of the night is a pain in the ass.” Nose wrinkled, you got up and set the photo album aside then gestured to the whole room that wasn’t showing much progress. “Some of the stuff here has a layer of dust in them. Especially the cabinets. I have to clean it all up. Can’t have my boyfriend crying about how he was sneezing up a storm all night, you know.”

“Mhm. Such a good girlfriend you are.” Instead of paying attention to your words, Souya deliberately closed the space you created and wrapped his arms around your waist. Those blue smoldering eyes hoping to hypnotize you to leave the chores for him. “I love you, ‘ya know? I’m very happy to have you…” His words were enough to chip through your defenses but the image of a bedroom that appeared as if it was visited by a typhoon broke you out of the spell Souya was casting on you.

Pulling away successfully this time, you laughed at his disappointed expression. Those pouting lips of his are more inviting than ever. Perhaps you have to admit to yourself that your boyfriend was too cute for this world and that his charms can work against you at times. “Nice try, babe. However, flattery can only get you this far. Later, okay? Don’t be sad now.”

The second you walked past him to grab another garbage bag, your boyfriend clicked his tongue. His gaze followed the curve of your body until it disappeared into a corner. Hands on his waist, he softly curses at the state of the apartment and wished he had the inhumane strength to have it all finished before supper. Because more free time meant more fooling around and really, Souya could hardly do that without embarrassing himself by telling Nahoya he wanted a day off. His brother does have his mind on the gutter sometimes. Then again, it was a fleeting wish, and standing around here wouldn’t get things done. Which reminds him…

“Ah fuck, I forgot about the laundry…”

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Hurried kisses were exchanged. Scrambling feet had the box full of fragile dishes rattling when your leg bumped it, your mind too preoccupied with the taste of Souya in your mouth to care about them breaking or falling over. What mattered was him and the warmth he was exuding past his fingers that held your hip while the others were weaving through your hair. Both of you drunk on each other’s comforting scent that would immediately lull your aching bodies into a relaxed state. And yet, even with exhaustion creeping up and painting your bones, none of you could ever back away from a night that promises ecstasy.

Dinner ended earlier than expected since both of you decided to order food outside rather than cook. Souya wanted to stay on your good side, after all. The last thing he wanted was for him to spend a cold night on the couch after distracting you earlier. The paper plates used are now in the trash bag along with the disposable cutlery and the empty boxes that contained your meal. A light scent of the Chinese takeout lingered in the tidy space. Water dripping from the faucet came to a halt at the same time your lower back collided with the counter. Your shirt hit the floor as Souya’s hands explored your flesh, erupting goosebumps in every caress. The noise on his throat dying to come out at the touch of your hands. It was no secret that he was pent-up. After all your teasing since this morning, Souya was definitely looking forward to getting you all to himself and not worrying whether the boxes will block the path to the bedroom or the bathroom.

He owes himself a pat on the back for surviving the torture of you bending down in only short shorts, exposing your ass and those thighs he wants to surround himself with. But most of all, just you trying to escape from his grasp was enough to keep him on the edge until dinner ended. He just got to have you.

Souya was indeed a simple man. It takes minimal endeavor to bring him to a state of lust. However, it wasn’t merely lust that adorned those sapphire eyes religiously following your every move. The very moment you finished drying the plates, he wasted no time in coming up behind you, spinning you around, and asking if he can kiss you. It was bold and threw you off. It amazed you that he said it with a straight face that showed obvious signs of embarrassment. He was never reduced to this—blushing and can’t meet your eyes. Normally at this time, he would have initiated your nightly ritual. To dance under the refrigerator light while you hummed his favorite song, content in each other’s arms. He did say he wanted to do the exact same thing in this new apartment.

Surprise coated your face but your answer was instant which led you two here in the kitchen, about to break and undo the cleaning you’ve done just to feel one another on this intimate level.

“Ah…” you moaned at the delicious friction, wanting to feel more of your aching pussy against his hard cock that was still tucked away in his shorts. Nails dug into his shoulders, creating countless crescent moons that the sky could hold. The torment of keeping yourselves away from each other just to finish cleaning up and arranging your things faded away with every kiss and stroke on the skin. “Babe, more… Touch me there, please, please.”

Whether it was the heat of the moment or just Souya unable to restrain himself further, he hoisted you up and had you sit on the counter’s edge. A noise of surprise failed to slip past your mouth when his tongue was on yours again, slipping your underwear down your legs. His lips pressed open-mouthed kisses on your sensitive neck, eager to reach down to your hard nipples that were exposed to the cool air. A whine broke past your attempts to quiet down when his mouth circled around your areola. Souya sucked on your nipple and gently bit on it, delighted at the high-pitched whine you made. The tip of his tongue swirled around the peak, occupying his hands by shedding himself off of his clothes. Dim lights do little to reflect the hunger in his gaze.

“Do ‘ya want me?” he whispered into your ear, relishing the synchrony of your hearts and your warm breath fanning his cheek along with the cute noises you make. Oh god, how did he get so lucky? Perhaps he saved a country in his past life or died a horrible death and now the universe was compensating him. Either way, he doesn’t care about any of that or the details as long as you stay by his side forever. “Tell me, sweetie, do ‘ya want me? Don’t be shy…”

“So fuckin’ much, Souya.” you sobbed at the lack of movement, desiring to have more of him than you could possibly take. To kiss him, feel him, have him spill and stuff you full—to swallow and take every little piece he offers just so you won’t have to miss him like this always. While it may sound selfish due to it being your deepest wish that no one but a shooting star could witness, you wished Souya will stay with you and never find anyone else to love. “Please, please love me…”

You didn't have to say it twice. He let out a shuddering breath upon sheathing his erect cock into your slick folds. Souya’s mind was spinning like a top at the heat, hissing as he slowly entered your tight gummy walls. Your breath hitched, holding onto him as you both descended into a night of endless giving and euphoria that all started as soon as your boyfriend began thrusting.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“Good morning, sweetie.” Souya chuckled lightly at the bemused look on your face. “Wake up or you’ll miss your favorite morning show.”

“Mornin’,” you yawned. Sunlight was already flooding into the bedroom that appeared tidier than it initially was yesterday except for the obvious marks on the glass window that served as a reminder of what occurred last night. And that is not all, unfortunately for you. In their own colorful hues, Souya’s stuffed animals and figures were all in a neat row at the corner. Their soulless eyes may be unable to relay what transpired last night, yet they look as if they were judging you from where they were perched.

Your cheeks instantly rose in temperature, pulling the blankets up to hide your bare body as you recounted what happened prior to you passing out on the bed. Your boyfriend, on the other hand, merely gave you a kiss on the head and then got out of bed. Your gaze fell on his back and almost let out an inhumane sound at the red marks littering the expanse of his back. Both of you went too far. However, neither of you regrets it. Groaning into your hands, you begrudgingly crawled out of the comfortable silk sheets to saunter to the kitchen where your boyfriend was picking up the discarded clothing. Dying of embarrassment should be the cause of your death at this point upon laying eyes on your panty lying innocently on the floor like it was an ordinary thing.

The tips of Souya’s ears were blushing red as he picked it up, offering you a weak smile before excusing himself to the laundry room. Composing yourself, you started to make matcha espresso. It was while you were searching for a mug that you discovered one plate already sporting a small crack. Shame ran up your nerves as you immediately disposed of it. Not only did you have sex in the kitchen, but a plate broke in memory of it. It wasn’t like you and Souya didn’t do any of the sort back in the old apartment, you just can’t believe both of you did it so quickly and in every room. But then again, you never broke a plate while he was buttering you up.

“What’s wrong?” Souya asked the second he returned, his brow raised at you. Smiling, you shook your head and went back to making coffee. He then joined you in preparing breakfast, mumbling how he’ll unbox the rest of the boxes later as he took out the key lime pie he bought yesterday from the refrigerator. This was the norm for you both, especially on a Sunday. Wake up, make breakfast and coffee, then watch television. To bask in the white noise. That was how it was back then…

The incessant ringing of the cellphone, vibrating on the nightstand, snapped you out of your dazed state. Head stuffed with cotton of bliss slowly coming to a clear. Your hand tapped on Ran’s shoulder glistening with sweat for him to get off or let you answer the call. Yet, the man above you still thrusting his cock into your pussy’s tight heat paid no mind to the gadget’s tune or your acts of getting him to stop, concentrating on reaching both of your highs. And while you wanted to let him fuck you dumb until all your bones went limp, the name flashing on the screen to the beat of the ringtone caused your eyes to go wide.

“R-Ran, m-move—ah! Might be important!”

“Baby...”

At your harsh shove, Ran clicked his tongue and cursed the executive blowing your phone up. His orgasm was ruined along with his mood. It took him twenty minutes to have you agree to his proposition of spending the next few hours of having sex in the luxurious hotel you both were in, only for it to be ruined by a phone call. To say he was pissed at Kakucho Hitto was an understatement. Giving Ran a chaste kiss to the cheek to quell his obvious irritation at the interruption, you got up, picked up the call, and held the gadget against your ear. Oblivious to hungry violet pupils raking your body and your thighs drenched with both of your juices.

“Kaku, what’s the matter?”

“Are you and Ran finished with the job?”

“Of course,” you fought back the urge to chuckle at the man’s words and add the fact that you were now fooling around with the older Haitani. Speaking of Ran, his arms found their way around your waist, pulling your naked form closer to his. You gave him a quick glance, holding a finger up to your lips, signaling to stay quiet. The last time you were caught by Kakucho playing around during work hours, you had to sit through three meetings while cockwarming him. Your husband, on the other hand, was quite lenient, thankfully. “Why? ‘s there a problem?”

“No, nothing that concerns work. However—”

Breath hitching at the abrupt intrusion of Ran’s index finger slipping inside your slick cunt, you glared at the smirking Haitani. Kakucho’s silence that followed said it all. You were fucked. A sheepish laugh was all you could do as Bonten’s number three sighed on the other line. However, the scolding you were expecting did not push through because Kakucho had a much pressing matter to discuss.

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that. Just listen,” he stated followed by a loud exhale. The grave tone he sported on the words he spoke next iced your veins, blood going cold that Ran didn’t fail to notice. “It’s your son. He’s hurt.”

The clicking of your heels against the floor echoed around the hallway, running to where your precious son was. The sight that greeted you once you pushed the doors of the clinic open had you gasping. Your son’s nose had tissue up his nostrils, blood staining the material. Eyes of onyx he got from his father glossy, the rims red after crying hard, as he fought back a sob at the sight of you bending down to hug him. Your heart ached at his lips wobbling, embracing your son tightly and rubbing his back soothingly.

“Touma, are you okay? It’s okay, I’m here. What happened, huh? Could you tell me?”

Your son’s response was a small whimper, shaking his head softly and refusing to respond. No verbal answer from him only caused more unrest in your system. What happened to him to get a nosebleed? And why wasn’t he answering? You pulled away to see if there was dirt or any sign that roughhousing was the culprit. The crease on your brows deepened when everything was spotless. Not even your son’s favorite shirt had any droplets of blood. While him bumping into an object and getting his nose hurt was possible, it didn't sit right with you.

“Touma, Mama needs to know what happened. Won’t you tell me? Is your nose still bleeding, pumpkin?”

“He’s fine. The nurse said the bleeding stopped minutes ago.” Kakucho made his presence known, having been standing beside you the whole time. Looking up to him for answers, the scarred man sighed and shook his head slightly. “He wouldn't even tell me. Saying that he doesn't want anyone to worry.” Mismatched eyes locking into yours told you everything he wanted to voice out.

Someone must’ve hurt him.

“Mama, let’s go. I wanna go home.” Touma whispered, tugging on your black trench coat. The apple of his cheeks was slightly sticky from all his crying, burying his head into the crook of your neck as if to hide from the world. The urge to turn the school upside down to find out what truly happen grew, but for the sake of your child, you couldn’t really expose you were a part of Bonten. Frustration had you biting your lower lip that you forcefully stretched into a smile to comfort your son. Fingers rubbing his chubby cheeks, you nodded.

“Sure, pumpkin.”

In the car, your son remained quiet the whole time. Even when Ran asked him, Touma refused to tell which caused your worry to grow every passing minute.

“Is it something so secret you can’t tell to Uncle Ran?” The older Haitani’s gaze left the road momentarily to glance at Touma, offering him a gentle smile. “I thought we wouldn't keep secrets from each other, bub?”

“Don’t force the boy,” Kakucho muttered, narrowing his eyes at the executive behind the wheel. Ran lightly chuckled. Taking out a few tissues from your bag, you leaned down to inspect your son’s face again. Eyebrows furrowed in concern when he flinched when you gently took out the stained tissue from his nose to replace it with a cleaner one.

“Does it really hurt that much, pumpkin?”

“N-no.”

Everyone in the car didn’t believe Touma, judging by the bothered stares they were sporting. The rest thought so too, upon arriving at the penthouse where Rindou and Koko were. At the sight of your son’s stuffed nose, the younger Haitani was quick to rise from his seat to check him.

“What happened? Did you get into a fight?”

Haruchiyo, who was in the kitchen the entire time, emerged and joined Rindou in a matter of seconds. Inquisitive blue eyes staring down at your son who was averting from the gazes he was receiving. Or was he? Seeing those black irises moving around, searching for something—or a certain someone, the gears in your head started to turn.

“A fight? Did you win?”

“Sanzu, that’s not what matters—”

“Well, I’m curious, so can you not?”

“You don’t even know he got into a fight.”

“It’s quite obvious!”

“Curious if he is as strong as Mikey?”

Whatever occurred in school must have resulted in a spar that questioned his strength because at the mention of his father, Touma’s eyes watered and the next thing you knew, he was running in the direction of his room. The sound of his door slamming had you sighing, hand holding your pounding head. To raise a child was as tough as running a criminal organization, probably even a more daunting task, having you wish there was a book to tell you how to raise a kid right. What if you fucked up his life? What was going to happen to Touma if you suddenly died? Were you raising him right? Was it alright to have him grow up in such a lifestyle? Is he disgusted by you? Those endless questions vanished at the touch of Kakucho’s warm hand patting your shoulder, giving you a tiny smile.

“I’m sure he’ll come around during dinner. Do you want me to buy his favorite ice cream? Once he feels better he’ll talk, I’m sure.”

Lips spreading into a weak grin, you nodded at his suggestion. “Yeah, that’ll be nice. Thank you, Kaku.”

However, even with the sweet potato ice cream Bonten’s number three got from the convenience store nearby was not enough to shake your son’s resolve in keeping his silence. What had your heart breaking into two was Touma refusing to even finish his favorite meal you specially cooked for him, stating that he wasn’t hungry, and going straight to his room after. Sighing for the hundredth time that day, you put on an apron and began washing the dishes, hoping to finish soon so you could talk to Touma. A million thoughts raced through your mind as you scrubbed off leftover sauces on the plates, yet refused to acknowledge the voice screaming that Touma was—

“He’s getting bullied.”

Immediately halting your actions, you spun to see Haruchiyo leaning on the kitchen island. Blue hues staring at you pointedly. Eyes closed, you leaned back against the sink with arms crossed on your chest, head back as you chuckled humorlessly. Of course, Haruchiyo could tell.

“I was… afraid you’d say that.”

“So you had the same hunch?”

“Touma’s silence says it all.”

“And you won’t do anything?”

“He doesn’t want trouble, but I’ll fail as a mother if I don’t do something—heck, I want to see those little shits who laid a hand on him! Have a talk with their parents or even their teacher. Demand an explanation for why my son is getting bullied. I don’t want my son to go through this, Haru… It hurts to see my son all sad and defeated.”

Haruchiyo didn’t utter another word, letting his actions speak for him. Pulling you into a hug and patting your head, he listened to you sighing tiredly. And that silence enveloped the entire space as the night fell deeper, moonlight illuminating the quiet walls. The rest of the executives have left, leaving only you and your son. Normally, you would have gone with them. But tonight wasn’t like any other nights. Your son needed you by his side, and you were going to be there for him, every step of the way.

The surprising creak of the door released the chanting spell of fatigue off of your eyes, squinting at the figure moving closer to the bed where you and your sleeping son lay. However, the usual alarm and wariness dissipated when the man stepped into the glowing light of the lamp. Onyx pupils belonging to your husband met yours.

“Manjiro… welcome home.”

“I heard what happened.” His voice was faint, feet padding towards the empty spot of the bed. Nimble fingers card through your son’s hair, the corner of his lips curling up slightly at the snore Touma elicited. Waiting in bated breath on what Mikey had to say, you watched Bonten’s infamous leader pat his son’s head, affection swirling in those soulless eyes. Touma was, in every sense, like his father. Yet, what set him apart from the fearless man was his apparent fear of violence and hurting others. It was quite a shock that he turned out to be such a sweet boy when he grew up around notorious criminals. The warm atmosphere made light of the heavy words he spoke next, dripping with certainty. “I’ll kill them—I’ll kill whoever hurts my Touma. That is a promise.”

A phone call a few minutes after lunchtime from Touma’s school pulled you from your desk and out of Bonten’s towering establishment. You left no notice of where you were going. Koko about to pull up with Haruchiyo caught your eye, waving at the vehicle to stop. And that is how you ended up here, glaring at the group of five boys who were said to have locked your son in one of the cubicles in the boy’s bathroom. You didn’t have to think twice and suspect that they were the same bunch who caused your son’s nose to bleed.

“Mrs. Sano, t-thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to come here to school.” Touma’s teacher smiled uneasily before glancing at the principal who was sweating buckets at the way Haruchiyo was eyeing him. “Sir, I think we should start.”

“Y-yes, I suppose we should.” Clearing his throat, the principal then gestured to your son. “A few minutes ago, one of Touma’s classmates found him locked in. The janitor was then called to unlock the door. However, when he was asked how he ended up there, he just cried and said these five were responsible.”

“That’s not true!” One of the boys yelled, prompting the others to follow suit. “Touma is lying, Principal! He just saw us walking by and pinned the blame on us!”

“Yeah! He’s lying!”

“Hey, Touma, tell the truth, you coward!”

Lips in a grim line, you ignored the brats and focused your attention on the principal. “Well? Is there proof that they did it? I saw cameras on my way here to your office, so there must be one nearby the boy’s comfort room, right?”

“No, there isn’t one, Mrs. Sano.” The principal replied, voice now clear and had no trace of fright. “In fact, I think it was quite dramatic of me to have called you in now that I’ve assessed the situation. Boys will always be boys—”

“Are you saying my son is a liar?” Left brow raised, you narrowed your gaze at the man. “Isn’t it evident to you that they all ganged up on my son and locked him there? Just the other day, I came here to see my son’s nose bleeding! Are you saying my son is being treated well here and that I was imagining things?”

“Mrs. Sano, let’s be rational—”

“Koko, take Touma outside. The five of you, follow him...” Rising from your seat, you waited for the silver-haired executive to shut the door behind him. Finally, without your son and the five kids in sight, you gave the principal a sweet sickening smile. “I guess I don’t have to tell you that a punishment is in order for those brats?”

Touma’s teacher was the first to muster up her courage, frowning at you. “Mrs. Sano, punishment is not required. They are just kids! Plus, there is no proof that they locked Touma in the cubicle.”

“So you’re going to take the questionable statements from those five as truth and ignore my son’s words? Surely you know my son is being bullied by them, you’re their teacher for fuck’s sake!” Grabbing her by the collar of her shirt, you spat at her fearful expression. “I didn’t even see you when I came here to take him home the day he got a nosebleed. Aren’t you supposed to care for all your students? Where were you—?”

“Mrs. Sano, I’m afraid you must leave if you’re going to be like this.”

The fuck?

Composing yourself, your hands let go of the woman, who instantly backed away. You inhaled sharply before turning to the principal again.

“Leave? I’ve barely begun, Mister. But, if you insist.” Seeing the way both of them relax, letting their guards down into thinking they have won, you smirked. “However, don’t be surprised if you both lose your jobs. I mean, after all, the owner of this school is quite in debt with Bonten. Perhaps he’ll understand what I meant by punishment once he receives a call from the gentleman waiting outside. Let’s go, Haruchiyo.”

“W-wait, what do you mean by that Mrs. Sano?”

The door swings open and you instantly beamed brightly at your son. The five children all huddled together, all staring at their quivering principal and teacher in shock.

“Come, Touma, let’s go to the zoo. You’ve been wanting to see the monkeys, right?” Funny how your son wants to see such animals when there were already a bunch in this school. Holding your smiling son by the hand, you shot the two stammering individuals a coy smirk. “And if ever your boss calls, tell him my son will never go to this school again—well, if it is still around after this fiasco. Pray that my husband or I won’t see you two out in the streets. I’ll definitely shoot. Good day to you all.”

Marriage and having a family. A goal or sometimes a necessity for some you haven’t considered since leaving the comforts of your family home or even after graduation. It never crossed your mind, too busy pondering where you’re gonna live or how to pay taxes. Whenever asked about it, the usual answer is never had you ever thought you’d find somebody perfect to share that experience with. In short, you always come up with a blank slate—sometimes excuses just so they’d leave you alone. Why? Because marrying someone and spending a life with them until death was quite daunting. Having a family and taking care of kids was a responsibility not made for everybody. That was how it was for you… Not until Souya walked into your life with every bit of his actions spelling out the word love in all its unique hues and shapes.

Kawata Souya, a man perfectly imperfect to come your way and change your outlook in life in the simplest of ways.

He didn’t pressure you into marrying him or even bring up the subject of having kids during the first date. Didn’t mind that you insisted on paying, saying it was your treat and he can do so next time. Most individuals nowadays found it better to know whether they could earn a wage fit enough to have a family or to secure a house. Ever practical, you suppose. People like that were somehow admirable, living life faster than a speeding car without breaks, knowing where to go. The thought alone terrified you.

Slow. You two were taking it slow, a pace both of you were comfortable with. And it wasn't a bad decision—seeing how it has played well for the both of you. Those three years were heaven on earth, no doubt about that. Being with Souya brought the most out of you and the same goes for him whenever you were involved. Moving in together was probably the biggest step the relationship took other than consummating it. It sounded kind of silly to be struggling with facing intimacy, but sometimes you couldn’t help but feel skeptical while listening to your friends’ escapades in the throes of lust and carnal desires humans have. There was no way they didn’t question it or feel anxious just baring themselves to another person, much less a stranger. Certainly, they had to face the underlying terrors of whether you smelled good, if your partner was clean, or if your breath didn’t smell like the tacos you ate earlier prior to ending up in bed. Everything was a big bowl of glitter—looking at it seemed fun, but sticking your hand into it wasn’t actually as comfortable as one would want it to be.

But Souya wasn’t a stranger, let alone a person you couldn't trust to be vulnerable with.

“Shouldn’t we cross this street?” You pointed at the other side that had a shortcut leading back home. “We’ll be back at the house in no time and I’m sure…”

The rest of your words died out when Souya set the groceries by the side and removed his scarf. Watching him silently approach you and start wrapping it around your neck, you failed to notice him backing away after he was finished. Mind almost close to malfunctioning at the scene. Did he just…?

A small curl on his lips out of pride, your boyfriend nodded at his handiwork. Noticing your confused—more like dumbfounded—stare, Souya raised a brow then shrugged. It wasn’t until he was grabbing the groceries that you snapped out of your momentary stupor.

Fuck, I must've looked stupid.

“‘t was getting cold. Was afraid you might catch a cold.” Linking his free hand with yours, Souya cleared his throat. The unmistakable tint of pink etched across his cheeks was probably not due to the cold atmosphere. “And no, let’s take the other path. Heard there might be troublesome bastards in that area. Is that okay with you?”

How can he be so romantic without trying?

Averting your head and chuckling at how hot your cheeks were, you nodded. “Y-yeah! No problem at all!”

No, your boyfriend wasn’t a mere faceless extra in the crowd. Had him memorized like the back of your hand. Those three years being together was testimony to that. A best friend, a lover, the one you can count on to wait for you while you tie your shoelaces that came undone—Kawata Souya was the missing piece to your half and he was standing here, asking you to marry him in the most random way and time possible. To bear his last name and be the sole person to stay by his side for the rest of his mortal days. Like any other human being, you were too stunned to utter a word no matter how hard you tried to move your lips. Somehow, Souya found it amusing. Evident in the slight curl of his lips as he brushed past you to grab and open the cake he bought. Taking your silence like the good champ he was because after all, your boyfriend was a man with few words. It was a bit concerning.

Others would have started losing their heads.

“Why don't we eat? I’m sure you’re starving. Let’s also order at that favorite sushi place of yours.” Looking back at you, your boyfriend smiled. “Just relax, okay?”

Come on, say something!

“Souya…” Breath caught up in your throat, your hands were playing with the hem of your shirt. Afraid you might mess up your words. Heart pumping erratically inside the ivory cage it is in, begging to be heard above the quiet atmosphere of the evening. “I-I… um.” Why does it feel so hard to say that one word? One you can easily utter for him but because of how abrupt it was, the state of being lost for words was getting the better of you. Mouth clamped up and tongue tied.

God, don’t leave him hanging! He must be absolutely nervous inside…

“Love.” Approaching you with the calmest expression you’ve ever seen, Souya pressed a chaste kiss on your cheek then turned to your back, gently nudging you. Of course, he sensed your astonishment. You just hope he noticed how warm you were, especially your burning cheeks to take your lack of words as rejection. “No need to answer right away. Just go and sit on the couch, ‘kay? You look like you might pass out. I’ll go call the sushi restaurant and cut the cake.” Patting your shoulder, he then proceeded to shoo you out of the kitchen. “Go on.”

Mentally chastising yourself, you trudged to the living room and flopped down on the cream-colored couch with a sigh. How could one relax after being proposed to? The usual scene of the lucky person crying while accepting the ring entered your mind, making you snort. You were sure back then that if Souya were to get down on one knee with the brightest diamond sitting on the ring, you’d be bawling the biggest tears in history. Yet, even in the comforts of your home and in the tiny kitchen, he had you rendered speechless to a point it hasn’t even sunk into your head that it actually happened. You even thought Souya would be the most anxious one when crossing this path, but oh, you were the one whose ass couldn’t sit still while sneaking glances at your boyfriend—wait, shouldn’t he be your fiance now?

Well, he did ask, and even if I didn’t verbally answer, it would be a solid yes.

Then, a palm flew to your mouth to muffle your gasp.

Holy shit, we’re really engaged, huh?

Head empty of thoughts other than Souya and the surprising engagement, you almost missed the doorbell and Souya coming out of the kitchen to receive the sushi. Composing yourself, you fought hard not to start squealing out of nowhere. Eyes falling on the bouquet he bought, you couldn’t help but smile. He’s so cute. Taking it from the coffee table, you brought it up close to you and smelled one of the white roses. Definitely… I love him. With you occupied smelling the heavenly scent of the flowers and making a mental note to have them displayed on the nightstand, you missed your boyfriend’s lingering stare.

Compared to his tranquil demeanor and the first initial confidence he had, Kawata Souya was absolutely screaming at himself inwardly.

No, he wasn’t regretting his decision. Absolutely far from regret. He wants to marry you. There was no doubt about that. Souya just wished he thought more about it before popping the question where his emotions and the need to take care of you weren’t clouding his mind. He didn’t even have a ring prepared! Surely you were stunned because there was no effort on his part at all, knowing such a momentous occasion should have been grander than eating sushi and cake at home while celebrating your anniversary. He should’ve taken you out tonight, at some fancy restaurant, wearing a beautiful dress while sipping champagne in fancy flutes. A pretty ring on your finger after his marvelous proposal that would have Nahoya patting his back for a job well done.

A ring—he has to buy a ring first thing tomorrow morning. And book a table at that romantic restaurant advertised online.

Clearing his throat and snapping out of his thoughts, he called, “Love, dinner time!” Not glancing to see if you were on your way, he set the plate filled with assorted sushi down on the dining table and headed for the refrigerator. “Do you like to drink wine, too? What about ice cream?”

He hopes you don’t notice how jittery he is while pouring himself wine, the burgundy liquid sloshing around the glass as he holds it. While being in an intoxicated state of mind wasn’t actually something Souya wanted in such an important discussion pertaining to marriage, a little alcohol in his system could certainly boost his already wavering confidence. Let loose, he had to let loose for now. Either that or he will certainly have his emotions exploding out and laying on the wooden table, possibly even terrify you.

“Yeah, a glass will be fine.”

Placing your glass of wine next to your plate of sushi, Souya avoided your gaze as he sat down across from you. The slice of cake sitting daintily beside him is more interesting to look at than meet your gaze as of now. Despite sensing his slight apprehension, you paid no mind nor pointed it out and began eating. Knowing very well that if he started taking sips of wine, he was trying not to get so nervous. Hiding back the small smile that crawled onto your lips, you grabbed one egg sushi with the chopsticks before reaching out to hold it up near his lips. Baby blues met your gaze, momentarily confused until he realized you were feeding it to him. The way he silently chewed on it and gave you a thumbs up afterward caused you to giggle. Souya couldn’t help but pout.

“I… must’ve looked uncool to ‘ya, huh?”

“What?” Quirking a brow at his words, you made a dismissive wave of your hand. “Nah, nah. It’s just that… proposing out of nowhere caught me off guard. Anyone would be.” Voice lowering to a hushed whisper, lips in a pout of its own, you stole a glance at your bashful boyfriend whose face was slowly resembling a tomato as he grabbed his glass of wine again. Making languid sips as the time went by. Coughing, you gestured at his plate. “What’s the matter? Not hungry?” Hearing no reply, you continued. “Drinking on an empty stomach is bad, you know—”

“Do you wanna get married?”

Those inquisitive blue hues met with your line of sight once more, snatching your breath and words away. If anyone were to ask you what had you falling for Souya, it was definitely those eyes. The vivid color comforting and expressive even under the quiet night light while watching you fall asleep. Sadness is often connected to the shade, but it was also seen as tranquility and stability. Souya was all those things to you. A place you could be yourself was not built overnight, yet with your lover’s care and patience, it has come to be. There was no place you’d rather be in this world than in his arms at night, softly chuckling at how he summarizes his day injected with humor. Those soft curls and strong hands wrapped around your waist that you loved to wake up to. Truly, the answer to his inquiry was as bright as daylight ever since then.

Why was I even speechless in the first place?

“Yes.”

His immediate response did not come verbally but was shown through his cheeks flushing, hand shooting up to cover his mouth that couldn’t stop smiling. The reaction was contagious enough to have you grinning, although you were alright at displaying. Souya was quick to head back to the topic at hand and spoke in a quiet voice, “I see. Then, I must buy the ring tomorrow. Where do you think is the best shop? No, I must do my research tonight. I must also—”

“Wait, wait… slow down.” Lightly giggling at him rambling his thoughts away, you got up from your seat to approach him. Quick to rub his back in a soothing manner. Turquoise locks smooth and healthy under your chin, the faint scent of eucalyptus pleasant to your nose. “No need to buy a ring right away. I mean, I feel bad rushing you since you’re usually bustlin’ and all…”

Plus, Nahoya wouldn’t be so happy if his brother is out and about instead of helping at the ramen shop.

Taking a hold of your hand, Souya then squeezed it gently before pulling you down to sit on his lap. His face is inches away from yours. No matter how long it has been, having him this close still has your heart hammering in your chest like he was a silly crush of yours—soon-to-be husband…

My god, it’s really happening!

“There’s no need to feel bad, love. You deserve only the best, and I'll make sure you always do just like you wouldn't hesitate for me.” The grip he had around your waist was as assuring as his hand squeezing yours was. Conviction in those azure irises. And really, was there anything else you could say when he exudes confidence in keeping his promise? Tongue swiping out to moisten your lips, you missed the way those blues darkened as you nodded your head. A grin spreads across your face while wrapping your arms around his neck, giddy at the thought.

“If you say so…” Taking your glass of wine, you held it up and grinned. “Shall we toast? To our anniversary and getting engaged, babe?”

Mimicking your glee, Souya took his glass and then clinked it with yours. The corners of your lips never faltered, even as you sipped the burgundy drink. But your eyes remained on his, observing the way his Adam's apple bobbed while sipping his wine. Those pink kissable lips on the glass that parted once he was finished, a droplet escaping the flesh and almost slid down to stain the carpet if you weren't fast enough to wipe it away with your thumb. Souya’s gaze was once again on you, although this time, it was heavier and far more intimate to suit someone who was having an innocent dinner with their fiancee. And you were not oblivious to his rousing stare, even amplifying his awakened lust by lightly grinding your ass against his thick thighs and the hardening member confined in his pants. Swallowing, he sets his glass safely onto the table before landing on your thighs, rubbing or drawing abstracts on it.

“Thank you, baby.”

“I don’t think… a ‘thank you’ will suffice,” you challenged, rubbing your thighs together that didn't go unnoticed by him. A smirk slowly graced your features when he visibly swallowed, the grip on your thigh tightening. “I’ll be doing this for life, ‘ya know?” Lashes fluttering, you leaned down to press a kiss on his forehead and then on his nose. The way his lips quivered when you didn’t immediately plant a kiss on his mouth was almost laughable. But you, too, were aching to kiss him despite the teasing. “And tonight is our third year anniversary. Shouldn't we do… something that couples usually do?”

Emboldened by the alcohol and passion running through his system, Souya was quick to carry you to the bedroom. Dinner could wait, he was certain. Right now, what he wanted was to bask in your presence—from the intoxicating scent of your hair down to the plush flesh of your thighs. Souya was in no hurry, but every action he did was more hurried than the last. Especially when his tongue licked a stripe up your neck after peppering kisses on the sensitive skin there. Paying no heed to the excited squeal you elicited when he set you down on the mattress, quick to pin you down. The dazed expression on both of your faces was a spectacle on its own, fueling the need to feel each other.

“Souya…” Blinking up at him, you couldn’t help but melt as he released your hands to tuck back stray hairs behind your ear. The initial fervent emotions simmering down; the soft white light coming from the lamp coating the bedroom aided at mellowing out. Instead of the usual teeth clacking kisses and ripping off clothes that were almost customary after a rough night at work or when both of you were finished arguing, it was almost like the two of you were afraid to move. Afraid to harm the other. Terrified of something switching when one wrong move is made. But more importantly, scared to wake up and find out this was all a dream.

Scared to know whether you and he were really real at all.

Souya was the first to take the plunge, leaning down to kiss your head. His wandering hands are now on your waist, applying pressure there before moving up to cup your cheeks. Following his lead, you reached up to snake your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to lock lips with him. Brushing the pink flesh of his mouth, you hummed in delight before exchanging whispered sweet nothings. Your fiance took his time to rid of your clothing, unbuttoning and unzipping while his full attention was on your facial expressions. Yet, he was never met with any objection. Neither did you, as you unbuttoned his shirt, pushing back the material to expose his milky white chest. A shaky breath escaped your parted lips once your top joined his on the floor, followed by your pants. Clad only in your black lacy bra. Your heaving chest met his eye, causing his pants to tighten further.

Stunning, you were absolutely stunning.

“Love,” he whispered into your ear, kissing your cheek and then your lips. Repeating the same process to your neck, shoulder, and collarbone. Just begging to be marked by his mouth and teeth. However, that would have to wait, for now. “You’re so beautiful, baby.” A kiss to your nose. His hand felt up your thigh, prying it apart from the other. “So beautiful. Got so fuckin’ lucky.” Another kiss, this time in between your brows. The elastic hem of your panty is found by his fingers, hooking his index around it prior to sliding them down. A moan came out of your mouth once your damp folds were met with cool air, a line of slick connecting it to your underwear. “I love you, baby.”

“Love you too, baby.”

“Fuckin’ love you. So, so much… Having you as my wife would be the happiest day of my life.”

“Mhm, your brother would be sad to hear that,” you giggled, meeting him halfway for another kiss on the mouth, tasting the sweetness and also the bitterness of wine. “You did tell him the happiest you’ve been… was when Sugoaku opened its doors.”

Souya chuckled, trailing kisses down to your stomach and to where you needed him the most. “He’ll have to understand. He’s a grown man now to be upset over things like that.” Looking up to meet your glossy irises, your fiance smiled. “Besides, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

Hissing at the delectable pleasure of Souya’s tongue lapping up your juices and the sinful sound of it, you weren’t sure what to take a hold of—his soft curls or the sheets. Either way, the blinding bliss was far too enticing to even pay attention to anything else other than the promise of ecstasy Souya was giving you. It didn’t take long for your melodic moans and choked sobs to filter across the room, clit throbbing. Souya aimed to have you come undone with his mouth alone and he did, eyes unable to leave your spasming form. Ignoring the stinging pain of his scalp when you pulled on his hair.

“S-Souya—ah, please… Need you, love. Need you ‘s badly!” Tears rolled down the apple of your cheeks, desperate to feel him. Desiring to hold him close as you reach your peak as you always did whenever he brought you to that plane of heightened euphoria only he could bring. And Souya could feel it—sensing your urgency. His pants flew to the other side of the room, along with your bra. “Wanna have you inside, love. I’m on the pill, r-remember? Hurry, please…” Brushing away the teardrops that have fallen, he cupped your cheeks again.

“Shh, I’ll take care of you, baby. Alright?”

Nodding at his words, the rest of your words materialized into a breathy groan once his cock stretched your slick gummy walls. Crescent moons on his shoulder. Breathing in his scent and your perfume mixed with sweat. His throaty groan is loud and raw against your ear, shaking you to the core. Even when this isn’t the first time you two are having sex, emotions were high and you felt like crying at the familiarity of it all—him fully inside of you that you could grasp the entirety of his girth, the veins running down his cock down to his balls pressed against your behind. Especially once he started thrusting, grabbing your free hand, and intertwining your fingers together. The act alone speaking in volumes—that he would be with you every step of the way. You were unsure whether it was sweat or tears dampening your face, but Souya cooed and pressed more kisses to your face in hopes to soothe you in the throes of your intense ardor. Never did he stop to question how you clung to him or continued to shed tears, taking it all in and understanding your sensitive state brought by the special occasion that has occurred.

“You’re doin’ so well, baby.”

“S-Souya…”

“You are so beautiful like this,” he groaned at your walls squeezing his cock, intent on having him spill it all inside. Eager to experience the entirety and what he could give tonight. And Souya yearned for the same with you. “My pretty girl, it’s alright—shit, so tight… So perfect, you’re perfect, baby.”

“Love, p-please—wanna cum together.” Biting back a sob, the grip you had on him strengthened akin to how an anchor is to a ship. One could easily drown in the depths of love and you were no stranger to this, hanging tight to stay on the ground unless it was both of you who would be ascending to ecstasy. Holding on to that edge for him, all for Souya. Readily doing so because he would do the exact same thing, no matter how hard it was. Biting hard on your wobbling lip, you keened. “Souya!”

Just like a reliable anchor, Souya was quick to pull you back to earth after a shattering orgasm accompanied by a bright light that almost had you collapsing and nodding off. Wrapping his strong arms around you, he wiped away the tears that ran down aimlessly while showering you with kisses so sweet and addictive. And what was crazier to grasp was these kisses would be a thing you’d experience every waking moment with Kawata Souya, the man you were going to marry soon. Your destined other half. The man you love and somehow, that was everything.

“I love you.”

“You’re kind of right” he secures the last bandage, before switching legs to repeat the process “but also you’re also forgetting I practice alchemy, among other things” you hiss as the unlabelled ointment he’s been using to treat you hits the irritated skin “and I have more than a couple of different tricks up my sleeve.”

You pout at his refusal to accept his human nature and lay back against the propped up pillows, settling in the comfortable silence that has enveloped in his room, letting him continue his treatment of your injuries, occasionally wiggling your toes to play with the soft fabric of his clothes to ease the boredom of the waiting.

“There” he caps the glass bottle holding the teal liquid and checks that every bandage is sitting in place correctly “should be all set to go, miss”

“You missed a spot” you shove your thumb right in front of his face, showing the red strip of dried blood that collected at the edge of your ripped nail, holding the same deadpan tone you have had since crossing the threshold of Purgatory Hall.

“Give it here” a rare soft smile graces his features as he gently grasps it in between his fingers, calmly going through the same motions of nursing your wounds once again. “You had quite the fall there didn’t you?”

“It wasn’t my fault! The steps were just- just fucking slippery that’s what” outraged at his point of view of the accident.

He doesn’t reply, too busy admiring your puffed cheeks and pouty lips, thinking them to be adorable, glad he finally managed to take your mind off of the dreadful afternoon you had been through.

Once he’s finally done bandaging your ripped nail, he gets up to put away his first aid homemade kit “Now, if the lady is all fixed up, I’m going to grab something in the kitchen” as he lowers your legs from his lap to lay on the bed “and you better not try to move from here while I’m gone” You hum absentmindedly in reply, not particularly paying attention to where he’s going, too busy checking the flexibility of the bandage wrapped around your finger tip.

He re-enters the room carrying a tea tray hosting a small iron teapot and an empty cup , the soft herbal smell wafting your senses, delicate and shooting.

“You really need to work on your clumsiness though” he carefully sets it down onto the bedside table and carefully starts to pour the tea “as much as I enjoy taking care of you, it really vexes me to see you like this”

“I guess I’ll try to be more careful then” playfully rolling your eyes at his concerns, not willing to let yourself be even more vulnerable than you already did by asking for his help in the first place.

“What’s that?” you suspiciously eye the cup he offers you, smart enough not to blindly trust a drink made by a known sorcerer.

“Just tea, I swear” holding his free hand over his heart, in a sort of mocking gesture.

“Just” moving your gaze to look him directly in the eye, hand hovering just an inch from the cup, flashbacks of the effects of whatever he might have made you drink in past occasions flash before your eyes “tea?”

“Just tea, this time” a mischievous glint disappears as soon as it came from his eyes, fully self aware at your silent implication, he lowers the cup to fit in your hand as he turns back to check everything is neat, before joining you to lay on top of his covers “it’s a mixture of various herbs to help soothe your muscles from the impact and also help you relax a bit, hopefully enough to get some shut eye before you have to go back.”

“It better be” you swirl the liquid around a bit before hesitantly taking a sip, surprised at how smooth it tastes, consequentially drinking more once you deem it safe to do so.

He settles next to you, laying on his side with one of his arms coming around to circe your waist “You really need to stop going out on your own like this though, you know this is still a demonic kingdom”

“I know, it’s just” you try to find a way to properly articulate your reasoning for venturing off without notifying anyone “sometimes I need some alone time, and I can’t keep being cooped up in that damn mansion”

“I know but at least ask me for some protection seals or something if you decide to do so. Next time just ask ok? I know how much you hate it, but you can’t do everything on your own” his thumb has started circling your side in a comforting motion, you don’t know if it’s to calm you or to ground him, but you don’t exactly want to choose right now “especially here, please remember that”

“Promise me next time you’ll at least take something with you?” he looks directly into your eyes, his tone lacking any of the playful sarcasm he usually holds, showing how what happened to you clearly affected him.

You set the cup back on its saucer and settle back against the soft pillows, closer to him than you were before, one of your hands coming up to graze his white fringe, gazing back at him “I promise.”