#day 01

The next hour is spent going in and out of shops just before they close. Normally Nanami was extra conscious to the employees of such places, he never came two minutes before close and if he needed something he just made plans to go the next morning when they opened. But, today was different. Nanami was so abnormally out of sorts, he had forgotten his anniversary. 

One year ago, he met you, a normal civilian. If he had gone back in time to tell his teen self that he was going to fall so deeply for a non-sorcerer, he would have balked at the idea. He was still recovering from Shibuya, the burns on his skin still eating away at his nerves and the pain was agonizing, when you had appeared. Sweet, lovely, you. Most people at the time had seen his injuries and cringed, he saw the disgust in their eyes, how the nurses would sometimes whisper about how gross he was to touch.

Yes, Nanami is a fairly confident man, but it got to him. Those insecurities burrowed deep into his mind and he became certain that he’d never truly find someone to spend the rest of his life with. No one would be able to look past the scarred skin, the fact that he’d have to treat it with ointment and bandages every night. He was a shell of who he once was. Then you walked into his life, looking frazzled as you looked all around the street for directions. He almost turned away, but you locked eyes and for once in his life, someone looked at him with so much hope, he couldn’t ignore it.

The rest was history really, he—unable to shake the feeling—offered to walk you to your destination, and you asked if his spouse would mind, a bashful expression on your face. A precursor to you slipping your number when he looked away and who could deny calling an angel like you? Yes, calling. Nanami decided he would never text if he could get away with it—selfishly wanting to hear your voice every second of the day.

You’re sitting on the couch with your eyes stuck to a book when the door to your apartment opens. You don’t even have to look to know it’s Nanami. You don’t live together, but it certainly felt like it with Nanami staying so often. He says it’s because you live closer to his job than he does, but he said with a ridiculous smile that told you the real meaning.

“Hey…” You murmur, turning to rest your chin against the couch to catch his face as he enters.

Nanami’s brows that were set in deep concentration–-and a little irritation, instantly soften at the sound of your voice. He looks at you and almost heads right your way, but he remembers the bags in his hands and reluctantly sets them on the table before returning. 

“Hello.” He whispers, hands seeking your face and gently cupping your cheeks.

He stands there for a moment, fingers tracing lines up and down your skin and not saying a single thing more.

His phone rings, taking him out of his trance. Nanami is slow to release you, but as soon as he does he’s fishing his phone out and clicking something before tossing it down the hall. You laugh, surprised.

“Not a good day?” You ask with a smile.

He gives a low hum in response, back to holding your face. He brings you closer to him, his nose brushing against yours and his breath warm.

“Any day I cannot spend with you is less than satisfactory.” He says, and you believe him.

His eyes narrow, he almost looks tired, the way they almost close. Then, he blinks. “Happy anniversary, my dear.”

Your eyes widen. “Oh shit. I completely forgot–” You sit straighter, feeling awful that you forgot such an important milestone. You even made orders for custom cufflinks as a gift that you were supposed to pick up today.

It’s his turn to chuckle at you, warm and full of sentiment.

“I picked up the cufflinks during my lunch. They’re beautiful.” He comforts, leaning even closer into you. His lips were only centimeters away. “You used my number for the confirmation.” He adds, seeing your look of confusion.

You sigh in relief, then groan in embarrassment. You meant it as a surprise and it was ruined. You couldn’t be too dismayed however, not with the way he was looking at you right now.

Nanami steps back and retrieves the bag he came in with. He pulls out the first item, a bouquet of your favourite flowers. You can’t even open your mouth to thank him because he’s already digging another gift out. Holding the flowers in your lap, you nearly drop them as Nanami pulls out a small box. Your heart begins to pound, feeling heat rush to your neck, eyes misty.

“That’s–”

He hums again, a soft smile on his face. He holds the small box out to you, and opens it to reveal a ring.

“We may have not been together very long…but this is my promise to you. When the time is right, I will want to make you mine, in as many ways as I can, including marriage. This ring isn’t much. I want to take you shopping for the real one.” He explains, feigning confidence but you see the way he bites his lip for a split second.

You hold out your hand and feel his shaking as he puts the ring on your finger. He doesn’t pull away and instead grasps your hand, lifting it to his lips to press a reverent kiss to your knuckles.

Tears stop any words from leaving you, as you pathetically clamber over the couch to get to him.

That night he holds you in bed, arms caging you into his side. His hand is holding yours, and his thumb keeps running over the edge of the ring.

Nanami wouldn’t call himself patient by any means, but he would endure a hundred Gojos if it meant he got to be with you for the rest of his life.

“I’m forever grateful I lived through that day. I thought dying was a miracle–but then I saw you and I knew only then what a miracle you are.” He murmurs, lips in your hair.

1.

The kitchen of their small cottage in Rinnos smelled of vanilla and honey, warm and comforting, a rare oasis of peace after years of evasion and battle. Bianca perched on the tips of her toes, tilting her head up to watch Sephiroth’s tall, imposing figure move with deliberate stiffness.

“Seph,” she said, voice soft, almost reverent, “just follow my lead. Relax. Just this once.”

His cyan eyes met hers, intense but uncertain. A shadow of Jenova flickered at the edges of his awareness, a whisper of chaos he fought with every breath. Bianca could feel it like a cold draft along her spine, and she pressed closer to him, her warmth a tether.

“I’m right here. I won’t let go,” she murmured.

The wooden floorboards creaked beneath his boots, a harsh counterpoint to the soft notes of the music she had pressed from the tiny gramophone they’d salvaged from the town’s market: a gift that Genesis Rhapsodos, a close friend and confidante, had insisted that they buy.

He exhaled slowly and, almost imperceptibly, loosened his shoulders. Then, as if realizing he needed instructions, he awkwardly mirrored her hand placements. The result was stiff and angular: all straight lines for Sephiroth. Masamune leaned unceremoniously against the kitchen wall as if it were keeping guard over their fragile serenity.

Bianca’s laughter was soft and melodic, not mocking, but warm. “It’s fine,” she said. “You’re you. That’s what matters.”

He didn’t smile at first, but his gaze softened, and he allowed her to guide him. Their hands met, fingers brushing, and she could feel the steady heat of him radiating through her small frame. Her wings fluttered slightly behind her, the outer black feathers catching the light of the candle light, stars sparkling faintly along the edges, a celestial whisper of who she had been: and who she had chosen to remain for him.

Sephiroth stepped forward, moving side to side and stepped on her foot.

“Did I step on your feet?” he asked, voice low, cautious, almost childlike in its vulnerability.

“Only once,” she teased gently, letting her hands slide over his forearms. He stiffened at the touch but did not pull away. “It’s okay, Seph. We don’t need perfection. Just us.”

The kitchen was a symphony of sensations: the faint clink of the gramophone needle against the record, the warmth from the oven where a small vanilla cake baked in honor of their anniversary, the faint, sweet scent of sugar from the frosting Bianca had stirred with the wooden spoon laying next to a dirty mixing bowl, and the soft creak of their shifting weight on the floorboards. It was intimate, almost sacred, a private sanctuary in a world that had so little mercy.

Sephiroth’s movements remained hesitant, sometimes jerky, but Bianca pressed closer, bridging the height difference with the lift of her chin.

“Step lightly, like this,” she said. She stepped from side to side in a gentle sway. “Like footwork in your swordfighting technique.”

His arms were heavy around her, but she leaned into his strength, allowing herself to feel the broad span of his shoulders, the heat of his chest. His dark coat flared slightly with each tentative step, the leather folds brushing softly against his thighs, adding weight to his hesitant movements.

Her laughter spilled from her again when he misstepped, almost sending them both teetering almost to the floor. His argent hair slid off his shoulder. Some brushed against her arm, but most joined the thick locks cascading down his back, stopping at the back of his knees.

“See? We’re making memories,” she whispered, resting her forehead briefly against his chest. “Even clumsy ones.”

For a moment, his cyan eyes softened completely, lost in the depth of her dark indigo gaze.

“You make everything feel… lighter,” he murmured, the weight of months of battles and running from Shinra lifting slightly in her presence.

She traced the line of his jaw with her thumb, marveling at how such strength could be so gentle, so willing to yield to a small, fallen angel.

And you make me feel safe,” she admitted, the words slipping out like a prayer.

The cake was ready now, golden, resting on the counter. Bianca had decorated it simply: a swirl of white and silver frosting, a few edible silver stars sprinkled along the edges. Sephiroth’s tall form bent awkwardly to reach for it, his long fingers brushing hers, sending a shiver up her spine.

They cut the cake together, as his strong hand wrapped along hers, guiding the knife through the first cut. As he helped cut the cake, the coat fell open slightly, revealing the leather straps crossed over his chest.

Bianca pressed her cheek against his chest, inhaling the faint scent of him: earth, sweat, leather, and lavender with hints of vanilla. He had since stopped using the rose and vanilla shampoo that Shinra provided him with, as he wanted nothing to do with the forced exploitation the company forced upon him.

The faint metallic notes from the Masamune that leaned against the wall like a silent sentinel. They shared the first bite of cake, laughing softly at the mess of frosting that smeared on Sephiroth’s lips.

“Delicious,” he said, his voice rougher than usual, but there was a quiet pride in it.

“Perfect,” she replied, brushing a stray crumb from his lips with her finger. Her touch lingered, gentle, intimate, and she felt the tension that had been coiled in him unwind slightly, like a spring releasing after too long under pressure.

They returned to dancing—or attempting to—her arms around his shoulders, his hands awkwardly resting on her hips. Every step was deliberate, cautious, a careful negotiation between her fluid grace and his rigid strength.

She felt his struggle to suppress the whisper of Jenova, and she murmured encouragement into his ear.

The red string of thread pulses. Her celestial aura flooded him, pushing back against the whispers until all that remained in that moment was light and Bianca.

“I’m here, Seph. You’re not alone. Not tonight.”

He pressed his forehead to hers, a rare vulnerability breaking through the usual calm, controlled exterior.

“With you, I can be myself,” he admitted.

Bianca smiled, resting her cheek against his, feeling the stark contrast of their heights. She could lean on him, feel the strength in his chest, the beat of his heart under her hand, and the warmth of his body enveloping her. It was a simple act, yet it carried all the weight of the world they had survived together.

Outside, the mountain winds whispered softly through the open windows, carrying the scent of pine and the crisp night air. Inside, the kitchen was a cocoon of warmth and light, of vanilla and the lingering scent of baked sweetness. The stars on her wings caught the flicker of the candlelight, glimmering like constellations in miniature, a quiet echo of the celestial she had once been.

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It had been a year since you two started seeing each other. Satoru considered you the light of his life and he loved you so much. Even with all the bad things that happened in the past year, you were and would always be the best thing that happened to him. So, he wanted to make your one year anniversary special for you. He had an idea of taking you out to your favorite restaurant, then seeing a movie that you’ve been dying to see, and finally ending the night with sweet treats. 

Satoru was waiting outside your work for you. You would be off soon and he wanted to be the one to pick you up from your long day at work. He made sure to text you to let you know that he was picking you up. This still didn’t stop his heart from skipping a beat since reread the text you had sent earlier that day. You had sent him a good morning text with a long winded way to say that you loved him without actually saying the words. That was something you two had yet to tell each other. Those three words. It wasn’t like you two didn’t love each other, you two loved each other so much. Even Satoru’s students knew about how much he loved you. The phrase just had yet to make its way past his and your lips to grace the other’s ears.

When you came out of work, your eyes landed on Satoru and a smile graced your pretty lips. Then, you met him in the middle with an embrace and a sweet, tender kiss on the lips. 

“Hey, gorgeous, how was work?” Satoru asked when you two pulled away but still in each other’s arms. 

“It was long and busy,” you told him, “Though, I must say, seeing my amazing boyfriend after work is the biggest upside.”

“Good, I’m glad. Shall we get started on our date? Or did you want to stop at home and change first?” He asked you as his thumbs made circles on your hips.

“If we could stop at home so I could change, I would like that. Need to be out of work clothes and in something that fits whatever you have planned,” you tell him, already feeling the work pants itching to get off. 

“Alright, then let’s get going,” he said before kissing the tip of your nose. 

Then, you two were in the car and off to your place. When you two got there, you asked him if you should wear anything really fancy. Instead of answering you, he picked out his favorite outfit on you. It was simple but it was cute and comfy. Honestly, it was one of your favorite outfits too. Before you could forget, you grabbed his one year anniversary present. After you were changed and ready, you were headed back out. The first stop was your favorite restaurant.

Once you two got a table and ordered, Satoru asked about your day at work. You told him about everything that happened in detail. He smiled warmly as he listened to you. Satoru loved listening to you, even if there wasn’t much to say. Your voice was sweet and calming to him. After you finished going on about your day at work, you asked him about his day. 

He informed you that his day was boring and nothing to write home about. You gave him a little frown and this caused him to chuckle. 

“You’re so adorable when you make that face, babe,” he said, his voice smooth but loving. His comment made you blush and roll your eyes playfully. 

The rest of dinner was enjoyable. Before you two left, he checked his phone and was happy that you two still had time to make the next showing of the movie that you wanted to see. So, as dinner was being paid for, he informed you that a movie was next on the agenda that he had. 

It wasn’t until you got to the theater that you were informed of which movie that you two would be seeing. You squeezed his hand and kissed his cheek. You had been dying to see the movie and Satoru was more than happy to take you to see it. 

During the movie, he set his arm around you and you set your head on his shoulder. He also snuck glances at you during the movie to see your reaction. If Satoru was being honest, he only kind of wanted to see the movie. It was one that he knew he could wait to see at home. But you wanted to see it so badly and he had a hard time telling you no to things like that. 

After the movie, he took you to get a sweet treat. While you ate your treats, you gushed about the movie and continuously thanked him for taking you. Then, you remembered his present in your bag. 

“Oh, babe, I got you something,” you told him as you fished the box out of your bag. He looked at you in surprise when you handed him the box. 

“You really didn’t have to,” he told you as he accepted the box.

“I wanted to,” you smiled. 

He returned the smile and opened the box. Upon seeing what was inside, his smile grew. The box held a pair of sunglasses that he had been eyeing for a long time. He only put off getting them because he felt that he wouldn’t look good in them and that you didn’t like them. Which both were untrue. There was also a note stating how much you loved him and how grateful you were to have him. After reading the note he looked at you.

“Thank you. I love you,” he said warmly. 

“I love you too,” you replied.