The sound of your own heart threatening to leap out of your chest with each beat resonating within your whole body was eating away at your sanity.

The thick robes and layers you'd never had to wear before bore heavy on your body like a chain.

You'd been sitting in the room behind these blinds. Hearing the distant ringings of bells, clanks of swords, and the swish of ribbons.

Keep it under control

You said to yourself. This was your very first Kagura performance. You were supposed to pour the tea for the guests for when the curtains open, but your hands wouldn't stop trembling, Your heart wouldn't stop beating so loudly, and your mind couldn't find peace.

The loud clanging of the bells signalled for the end of the performance outside. The lights inside the shrine finally burned as the window blinds finally opened.

Kazuki Shimizu.

The night was cold, You just came home from work, walking over to the small space of your apartment when you noticed the light from your bedroom was still on.

"is he waiting for me again?"

Lately, you haven't been returning to an empty home. Or a home with your mom ready to berate you sitting on a couch with that look of evident dissapointment.

Instead, You find yourself torn between the feeling or relief and worry, because you come home to him.

He who had a kind smile, an alluring presence of comfort and a bit like sweet vanilla. Kazuki, your lover of just one month, but the time you spent together had spent your world to a turning point you'd never guess.

Everything became easier, and all the hurdles felt lighter with each step forward jumping over them.

Stuck still processing the change of your world, you didn't even notice the shadows underneath the door moving before it slightly creeked open.

"ah."

He blinked as his eyes lifted up from the ground to yours, He was wearing that stripped purple shirt again. You were starting to wonder if he had a strange attachment to it, but before you could, Kazuki had already smiled with that disarming gentleness. "okaeri."

He gently reached for both of your hands in his as he keeps his gaze on you.

Renjirou Fukuda

Having to run errands for your boss at work was never easy. He always found a way to nitpick every single thing as if he was paying you yens above minimum wage.

Which he obviously wasnt.

"hah.."

You sigh as you reach for the last item on the list when your hands suddenly brushed against someone else's.

"ah"

You both simultaneously withdrew your hand. Ren blinked as he sees YOU of all people. And you smile a bit.

You'd never think you'd encounter him here with his uniform again. You had been so caught up in work that you forget he also works here.

".. Running errands?"

he asked with a raise of his brow.

"well,.. Its my boss asking me to run his errands again.."

You softly sighed as you put the can of corn in the basket. Ren gave you a silent stare of judgement, before he gently brushed your hair back. You didn't even notice your hair was tousled.

"I'll cook dinner tonight, so you better tell of your boss to back off."

A teasing smile crosses his face before he turned away from embarrassment from his own words.

"anyway.. I'll wait for you later.. don't keep me waiting."

Haruki Saotome

You were just walking back from home, the streetlights flickering, and your eyes glued down to your phone, playing rythm game to calm yourself down after a tiring day at work.

beep beep boop boop betty boop.

Everything was peaceful for a moment except for the quiet click of your shoes on the pavement and the sounds of the game.

But peace never lasts in your life because soon enough, you heard a voice calling out to you, loud, playful, and definitely inching closer, and louder by the second as sounds of rushing steps followed.

You braced yourself before you turned, already half expecting it to be the most brightest sunshine that entered your dull life, only to find yourself taken aback by his charm once more.

"eh?!"

One moment you were on the ground walking depressed from work, next you were back in the arms of your beloved energetic lover who had lifted you up into the air in the middle of the road.

He had such a cheerful smile as always before he leaned your face close to his with a gentle boop against his forehead.

"My emotional other half had finally been free from the shackles of corporate slavery for the day!"

He chirped with that excitement barely concealed from his voice as he squeezed you in a tight hug.

"I've waited for you to come out so long you know? Even Mr. Tubbs got sleepy waiting."

Ryota Nishimiya

You typed into your computer for what feels like an eternity now, you could hardly need to look down to see the letters in the keyboard as the sound of clicking and tapping resonates into the blurring sounds around you.

"Hey.."

You didn't even notice the gentle voice calling out to you from behind before your vision blurred into the darkness, covered by warm hands that slightly trembled in nervousness.

Your hands halt in their typing, shocked from the sudden contact before you finally hear the noise and sounds around you again.

"I was starting to think you were deliberately ignoring me"

His voice was gentle but it carried a hint of sadness before he gently removed his hands from your eyes. Your gaze meeting his gentle but loving eyes.

"It's already just the two of us, Didn't you notice the time?"

He asked softly before he turns your chair around and gently bends down for you, the sheer action sending your heart to a beating race as he holds your hands in his, feeling his warm fingers trace along your palm before he looks back up at you.

"Lets go home together. I don't want to see you stressed any much longer."

EUGHHHHHH BROOO IDK IDK ANYWAYYSYS BONUS PEOPLE FOR THOSE WHO YEARN FOR THEM EUGHHHH gib me a brekkk

Hiroto Shimizu

You had just wanted to flop into your futon after a tiring day at the shrine today. You snuggled your face into the sheets and pillow, exhaustion evident.

"You look as if you did the performance by yourself, Princess"

He sounded so confident that you felt the need to groan into the pillow internally before lifting your face up from the futon, sitting up and looking at him with that exasperated expression that makes a smirk of satisfaction cross his face.

"what?"

"You never say something nice"

And maybe that was true because he looked a bit shocked at that comment. He tilts his head at you, eyeing you before he smiles and walks over, handing out his hand to you with a different air of arrogance, it was almost like he was proud of whatever he was about to do.

And even if your gut told you not to trust him, You reached out.

His hand was a bit cold, both thick yet smooth, from endless shrine practice, and the care he gets.

"There you go." He pulls you into a chair before he suddenly started to brush your hair, clumsy and a bit painful at first, but then he seems to catch on and lessens the tension and does it carefully.

"You always look lovely, but even more lovelier Under my care."

Kagami Ren

Kagami sighed as he finally pushed open the door after a shift at the archive, he enters the quiet apartment, His footsteps padding gently on the mat before he spots the clock by the kitchen counter, 5:32.

The food he had brought had already gone cold in the container.

He glanced towards his room on the side, and he found himself smiling slightly to himself with a mix of disappointment in finding the lights already off.

He took off his jacket as he put the food in the fridge, drinking a glass of water and washing his face before he walked to the bathroom to change his clothes.

By the time he was done freshening up, it had already been nearing to 6 and soon she'd have to leave.

Ren walked towards the room with a blank headspace, Entering it, he was greeted by the cold air, the scent of food.. and her under the covers already asleep like a log.

"I'm Home."

He gently lifted the covers as he slipped beside her, His gaze, despite weary, and how exhausted, seemed to only want to stay awake to stare at her face.

"goodnight."

He gently brushed a strand of her hair before he turned away to the other side, incase things get awkward when she wakes up earlier.

The feeling of her hands finding its way to wrap around his waist made his eyes immediately open again before he let a small amused breathe out and settled to sleep.

If everyday was like this, then I don't mind working late.

Yoko Nishimiya

A tiring day at work always drain every part of you, It's like getting your soul sucked by a demon that you benefit from. Kinda like a pact.

"Yahoo~"

But there's always angels ready to help poor souls from the grasps of this said demons, and luckily for you, that person seemed to be the older childhood friend you had.

"Your looking down, Need a hug?"

She had always been there for every moment in your life, So kind, so cheerful, always responsible and ready to soothe your worries with that kind smile..

"mhm! mwuah!"

She wrapped her arms around you as she leaned her face close enough for you to notice her wearing the lipgloss you brought her, She smiles as she peppers your cheek with a kiss.

"Feel better?"

Shimizu Kazuki

The room feels much more quieter without him. Without the sounds of him writing down his articles, talking about how its going to be his next big hit..

Now you only gaze outside your window smelling that disappointing scent of sewer water.

You closed the window with a tired sigh before glancing at the house. It's a bit messier now..

Kazuki had always helped around a bit with the cleaning, always there to take care of you when you couldn't.

"Back then..the most important thing I had, what I loved most.. What was most important to me, was definitely you.. Though.. I doubt you'd believe me after all that."

You slumped down to the floor, Holding your knees to your chest as you lowered your head. Sniffing out your eyes.

Despite all of it, some part of you still believes, and knows, if you probably talked to him again, He'd comfort you like he always had.

That had always been what I liked most about you.

Your kindness.

Renjirou Fukuda

Leaning against the wall of your room had lately become a habit. Perhaps because it somehow gave you comfort.

But the real reason was plain as day.

"FUZAKERUNNA!"

It was to hear his voice again. Even if it was just harsh screams to his game. Even when you really shouldn't.

You couldn't really help it, Everything ended so suddenly. One day he was always hanging out in your room playing games after a tiring day at work, and the next, he wouldn't even talk to you.

"tsk!"

And now all you can do is smile to yourself and reminisce the phantom feeling of his soft fluffy hair under your hands. It was surprising you didn't cry from how much you missed that boy.

You used to think you'd never get used to his cranky attitude, but here you are. Smiling to yourself like a fool at the thought of him.

"That's what I really liked about you in the end.. your ability to never back down for anyone.."

Haruki Saotome

The sun setting into the distance had wrapped the sky in a beautiful orange hue. It was so vibrant you could almost assume it was the sunny morning.

Plip. Plip. plip.

The sound of distant splashes of water made you look towards the river and oh how you regret doing so.

Two young students were playing by the side, skipping rocks into the river as they laughed to each other.

"Ah.. To be young.."

But more than the longing feeling of youth, it painfully reminded you of him too. He would always have this bizarre sets of hobbies that always scared you for the love of god but..

It always made you happy. No matter how absurd, how dangerous, He never failed to make a smile surface on your face.

"ah.. How could someone not like him when he could make you happy even with just a stick?"

Ryota Nishimiya

The rain was pouring hard today, but you'd never even expect to have forgotten your umbrella at home again.

"great.. just great.."

You mumble to yourself as you felt the drips of rain splatter to your heels. Sticky. Wet. It didn't feel nice at all but all you could do was shrink more to the wall, depending so much on the small coverage the bus stop roof gave.

If.. If you were still together.. He had probably already packed your umbrella for you when he saw this morning's rain check.

You couldn't help the bitter laugh escaping you at the thought of him. Had you relied too much on him?

The thought scared you more than it should have. He had always been with you since childhood that this new distant cold line between you feels so foreign you'd never get used to it.

The rain poured harder as it blurred in the back of your mind until a shadow loomed over you.

It was an Umbrella held out for you by none other than him.

"You can return it to the cafe tomorrow"

CHAPTER 8: REFLECTION

“Your profile illuminated by the moonlight, I look up and the stars rival your beauty.”

His hands held your sleeve as he looked down at you with that conflicted gaze. His eyes seemed to waver with a flood of emotions but his grip on your kimono didn’t slip.

“You have me by your side. Someone strong, powerful, someone who can give you everything you want, but you chose to find comfort in him. Why?”

Hiroto didn’t like how desperate he sounded for you himself. He doesn’t even want to acknowledge how his attention shifted to someone like you.

It started with the small things, your bold actions, your clumsy works, your attention to him, your worry, your gaze.. your kindness. He had subconsciously grown to you beside him that he started to crave it from the very insides of his being. Like a butterfly trying to crawl out of it’s cocoon ready to fly.

“You can’t even look at me.”

His gaze wavered as he feels a strange need for power and greed.

“What? Can’t handle my weaknesses after all?”

He let out a bitter laugh as his hand slipped from your sleeve, falling to his sides as he looked at you with disappointment.

You won’t even take my hand back? Did I misunderstand what we had all by myself again?

But before he could built back and hide behind the walls he crafted himself for all this years of endless expectations, praise, practice and perfection in his twisted paradise-

You reached out. Your hand enveloping his as your eyes widen in realization.

He was trembling. Trembling so so much his hands feel so cold against yours.

“Hiroto-sama.”

You called out to him as you held his hand just a bit more tighter as if afraid he was going to withdraw—or worse, as if he grounded you into this world.

His eyes went to find yours again at the touch, and you swore he almost looked like he would cry, if you even knew how that would look.

“I.. I did tell you, I told you first out of everyone what was bothering me, but it felt like you weren’t taking me seriously, how was I supposed to keep trying to push it?”

You hesitated. No, that wasn’t what you wanted to say. You wanted to tell him not to worry-.. you wanted.. No, You know the truth . You wanted him to understand you.

“.. And if I said what you’re experiencing is natural? What then? If I told you its bound to happen to someone of high spiritual power to be haunted by evil spirit? What would you say? Would you not get frightened and scared to the point of wanting to run away?”

Hiroto’s voice suddenly grow hoarse as if he was saying something that physically pained him to say. Because in a sense? It did.

“..”

“who knows if you had already ran away if I told you that? You screamed when you saw bugs.. how much more if you know spirits will actively haunt you?. I can’t let you leave. You just can’t. We’re in this together. We both have expectations to meet! If I have to play this role.. then you have to, too!”

The way his grip tightened on your hand, his gaze became frantic and the obvious edge of desperation, a strand of his hair falling elegantly, contrasting his growing frantic tries in keeping you in his grasp.

He was purposely trying to take your mind off the problem to make sure you weren’t scared.

“Hiroto-sama.. Hiroto-sama!”

You squeezed your eye shut as he froze at the sound of his name being called so loudly.

“Please slow down- No one is leaving, and no one has expectations to meet!”

“There is! Father.. mother.. kazuki.. everyone! Everyone just-“

“You don’t have to do it for them! You have to do this for yourself..”

And somehow- you felt yourself wanting to cry. Its like there’s so much in your chest weighing you down.

“I was also scared at first.. when I was dragged here by Shimizu-sama, I was.. So scared, so scared that I was a burden, that I’ll be discarded if I don’t do anything properly.. but you gave me courage.. even when I kept messing up.. you always just make me “try again” no matter how many times it took..”

You gulped as you held his hand to ground yourself.

“So please don’t say I’ll leave you.. Like I said, I will stay by your side.. surely, in this one and the next. No matter how many choices I have to make, I’ll choose you.”

“I promise.”

“…”

The night seemed to settle around the two of you. Even the cicadas that had been singing relentlessly throughout the evening felt distant now, swallowed by the silence that followed your promise. Hiroto could only stare. The words should have sounded naïve. Reckless, even. Anyone else might have dismissed them as empty reassurance spoken in the heat of the moment. Yet somehow, coming from you, they carried a sincerity that made it difficult to breathe.

No matter how many choices I have to make, I'll choose you.

He hated how much he wanted to believe that.

Perhaps that was what frightened him most.

For years he had convinced himself that expectations were easier than affection. Expectations were simple. If he fulfilled them, he would be praised. If he exceeded them, he would be admired. Everything had rules. Everything had structure. Affection, however, was unpredictable. People changed their minds. They left. They found something better and moved on. Yet despite knowing that, despite reminding himself of it countless times, he found himself trusting your words far more than he should have.

“…”

The silence that followed felt almost unbearable.

Hiroto could still feel your hand around his, warm despite the night air. He should have pulled away. He should have laughed it off and hidden behind another sarcastic remark before the conversation dug any deeper than it already had. That would have been easier. Familiar. Safe.

Instead, he remained where he was.

The moonlight spilled across the courtyard, illuminating the edges of your figure as you stood before him with that same earnest expression that always seemed capable of undoing his composure far more effectively than any spirit or curse ever could.

"You really don't think before you speak, do you?"

The words came out softer than intended, lacking the bite he had hoped for.

His gaze drifted away first.

"Do you have any idea how ridiculous that sounded?"

You blinked.

"No?"

"Of course you don't."

A tired laugh escaped him as he lifted a hand to his forehead. Somehow, despite everything, you still looked completely sincere. Completely convinced of what you had just promised him.

As though choosing someone was that simple.

As though people didn't leave.

As though circumstances didn't change.

As though the future wasn't constantly threatening to tear apart everything people tried to hold onto.

"You say things like you'll stay by my side forever and expect me to just accept it."

His eyes narrowed slightly.

"You make promises as if they have no weight."

"They do have weight."

"They should."

You immediately frowned.

"Hiroto-sama."

"No, listen."

For once, there was no arrogance behind the interruption. No superiority. Only exhaustion.

"You keep saying you'll stay, but you don't understand what that means."

His grip around your hand tightened unconsciously before loosening again.

"It means dealing with all of this."

His gaze flickered toward the shrine buildings beyond the courtyard.

"The rituals. The responsibilities. The spirits. My family."

A bitter smile touched his lips.

"Me."

The last word came out quieter.

"You make it sound easy now because you're standing here making a promise, but what about later? What happens when this place becomes suffocating? What happens when you're tired? What happens when you realize being tied to someone like me isn't nearly as pleasant as you imagined?"

The questions spilled out before he could stop them.

Immediately, irritation crossed his expression.

Not at you.

At himself.

Because he hated how desperate they sounded.

He hated how much he wanted your answer.

For someone who prided himself on control, he had become embarrassingly dependent on your reassurance.

The realization alone was enough to make him grimace.

"...Forget it."

He looked away.

"I don't know why I'm even asking."

"You want an answer."

The response came so quickly that he nearly scoffed.

"Confident, aren't you?"

"You do."

"I don't."

"You do."

The certainty in your voice made something twist inside his chest.

Annoying.

Incredibly annoying.

Because you were right.

Of course you were right.

He wanted an answer.

He wanted to hear you say it again.

He wanted proof.

Something solid.

Something he could keep tucked away during the moments when doubt inevitably returned.

The realization left him feeling strangely embarrassed.

"You've become troublesome."

You gasped.

"That's your response?"

"Yes."

"Hiroto-sama!"

He couldn't stop the faint upward curve of his lips.

Only for a second.

Only a little.

Yet it was enough.

Enough to ease some of the tension that had wrapped itself around his chest all evening.

His gaze found yours again.

For a moment neither of you spoke.

The longer he looked, the more difficult it became to maintain the distance he usually kept between himself and everyone else.

Most people saw what he allowed them to see.

The talented heir.

The dependable exorcist.

The son everyone praised.

The person who always had the answer.

You, however, had somehow wandered past all of that without permission.

You had seen him frustrated.

Seen him jealous.

Seen him angry.

Seen him afraid.

And somehow you were still standing here.

Still holding his hand.

Still choosing him.

The thought should have comforted him.

Instead, it terrified him.

Because now there was something he could lose.

Slowly, Hiroto lowered his gaze toward your joined hands before speaking again.

"...If you change your mind, tell me immediately."

You stared.

"What?"

"If you're unhappy."

"Hiroto-sama—"

"I'm serious."

His expression remained composed, but there was an unusual tension beneath it.

"If you start regretting it, tell me."

His fingers curled slightly around yours.

"Don't keep it to yourself."

The request sounded simple.

Yet both of you knew it wasn't.

Because Hiroto never asked for reassurance.

Never asked people to stay.

Never admitted there was even a possibility he wanted something from them.

Yet here he was.

Standing beneath the moonlight.

Doing exactly that.

His eyes softened, just barely.

"...I dislike being made a fool of."

The excuse was pathetic.

You both knew it.

The embarrassed look that immediately crossed his face only made it worse.

Yet instead of mocking him, your expression gentled.

And somehow that made his chest hurt even more.

Because for the first time in years, Hiroto found himself wanting to believe someone would keep their promise.

Not because they had to.

Not because it was expected of them.

What drives all of us to seek the thrill to delve into the unknown? Is it purely just human curiosity?

Haruki couldn't understand it. Couldn't even seem to place why a kid would even avail his services.

But If someone extends a helping arm to him, he will always reach back. ALWAYS.

And that brought him here. This present fear.

The suffocating pressure that had swallowed the house moments ago finally loosened, leaving behind only the sharp smell of ash and the scattered remains of overturned furniture. Broken charms littered the floor around him like wilted paper flowers.

Haruki exhaled shakily.

“…Ahh, that one was pretty stubborn.”

His voice came out lighter than he felt.

Blood trickled slowly from the corner of his mouth as he straightened himself with a grin, despite the ache screaming through his body. His sleeve hung half-burned from where the demon’s claws had grazed him earlier, and the talismans wrapped around his arm were scorched black around the edges.

Still, he smiled. He always does.

If not him, then who else will burn warmer than the sun?

Because sitting in the corner of the room was a little girl no older than eight, staring at him with wide, horrified eyes.

The chalk circle she had drawn remained faintly visible beneath her trembling knees.

Haruki’s gaze softened immediately.

Ah.

So that’s what happened here.

Something all too human.

Something even adults would do.

The books scattered around the room. The desperate ritual. The grief hanging so heavily in the air it almost felt alive.

She hadn’t meant to summon a demon.

She just wanted someone back.

Haruki crouched carefully despite the protest in his ribs.

“Well,” he sighed dramatically, glancing around at the ruined room, “I think it’s safe to say we are never using mysterious basement rituals ever again missy."

He gently takes the chalk from her hands.

The girl’s lips quivered.

Then suddenly—

A crack. A sob. And a gaze full of guilt.

“I-I’m sorry…”

Tears spilled down her cheeks all at once.

“I just wanted mama back..”

Haruki froze.

The guilt in her voice hurt far more than the exorcism had.

It's always the grief of loss that attracts these evil spirits at work. His expression softened completely.

“Hey, hey… no.” His tone gentled instantly. “You don’t need to apologize, If anything, That was impressive! Who knew a little missy like you had enough talent to make a summoning circle?"

He sat down beside her with a tired huff, ignoring the fresh sting spreading across his injuries.

"we all do reckless things in our lives. But it's harder when there's no one to stop you anymore, is it?"

The girl kept crying into her hands.

“I thought… if I did it right… she’d come home…”

Haruki looked toward the broken remains of the summoning circle.

Then quietly, he reached over and took her tiny hand into both of his.

His palms were warm despite the blood staining them.

“Your mother must’ve loved you very much,” he murmured.

The child looked up at him through blurred eyes.

“And if she did,” Haruki continued softly, “then I don’t think she’d ever want you to carry this sadness all by yourself."

The girl’s breathing hitched.

“She’s still cheering for you, you know.”

Haruki smiled gently, tapping the center of her forehead with one finger.

“Probably fussing over you from above too. Moms are kinda scary like that. Mine kind of kicked me out because she said I always acted out. SUUPER scary I tell you!"

A tiny laugh escaped her before she could stop it.

There we go.

Haruki brightened immediately like he’d won a prize.

“Ah! There’s the smile I was fighting for!”

The girl rubbed at her eyes.

Then Haruki tilted his head suddenly.

“Oh?”

He pointed toward the ribbon tied carefully into her hair.

"has my flair caught your heart, young miss?"

He smiles proudly as he leans away, Looking at the girl with fondness he hasn't mustered.

In an odd way... Haruki thinks of his Baby sister When he sees this girl.

"If she was around.. they'd probably be the same age."

The thought crosses his mind before he Meets the girl's hopeful smile. And he crosses his leg, sitting criss-cross apple sauce.

“That’s a cute ribbon.”

He pointed to the pink ribbon on the side of her hair.

The child blinked in surprise.

Haruki grinned before pulling one loose strip of sealing paper from his wrist.

With exaggerated seriousness, he tied it around himself like a ribbon.

“There,” he declared proudly. “Now we match.”

The girl stared at him. Then she burst into laughter.

"what's with that? That's... Pfft-"

Her hands cover her mouth as she feels lightened by his easygoing presence.

Haruki laughed too, relieved beyond words.

For a while, neither of them spoke.

The storm outside had quieted. Moonlight filtered weakly through the broken window beside them.

Then suddenly—

The little girl moved closer and hugged his arm tightly.

The same arm wrapped in worn talismans and layered seals from exorcisms that had nearly killed him.

Haruki blinked.

Most people recoiled from that arm eventually.

From the curses. The scars. The reminders of failure.

But the child only held on tighter, smiling up at him with watery eyes.

“Haruki-Nii-sama is the best,” she said earnestly.

His breath caught softly.

“I wanna be like you when I grow up.”

Her small hands squeezed his sleeve.

“A hero.”

Silence.

For the first time that night, Haruki didn’t know what to say.

His eyes lowered slowly toward the talismans wrapped around his skin.

Old failures. Old prayers.

Things he could never completely erase.

This child looked at him and still saw someone good.

Not a "fraud". Not a "scammer". A hero.

Haruki laughed quietly under his breath, though it sounded smaller now. Softer

“A hero, huh?”

He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly before he winked and smiled smugly at the girl.

“That’s a pretty big title for a guy like me but..! I'll wear it like a badge of honor."

The girl giggled.

Haruki looked at her for a long moment before smiling again.

Then he reached up and carefully adjusted the ribbon in her hair.

“…Then make sure you become an even better hero than me someday, okay?”

CHAPTER 5: FRAGMENTS “what’s closer than light is the shadow, mistaking devotion for salvation."

The summer heat had become gentler lately.

Not enough to escape notice, but enough that the estate no longer felt suffocating beneath the afternoon sun. Cicadas sang endlessly from the trees beyond the shrine grounds, their voices blending with the occasional rustle of leaves whenever a breeze managed to wander through the open corridors.

You sat beneath the shade of the engawa, sorting dried prayer papers into neat stacks.

A simple task.

One of many.

The sort of work nobody thought much about. You liked those jobs.

Nobody expected perfection from them. Nobody watched.

Or at least—

that was what you thought.

The feeling arrived before the realization did.

A familiar weight settling somewhere behind you.

Not threatening. Not unpleasant.

Just...

there. Present.

The hairs at the back of your neck prickled.

You paused. Counted silently to three.

1… 2… 3…

Then glanced over your shoulder.

"..."

There he was. Again.

Hiroto sat several feet away beneath one of the wooden pillars, a folded fan resting lazily against his shoulder.

His attention appeared entirely focused on the garden.

The koi pond. The trees.

Anywhere but you.

Which might have been convincing if not for the fact that there was absolutely no reason for him to be there.

You stared and He stared at the garden.

The silence stretched.

Eventually, you returned to your work.

A few moments passed. Your thoughts already drifting back to that encounter last time.

It had been greatly awkward and silent between you two. But you always noticed how you seem to stumble into him more recently even when he doesn’t personally overlook your training anymore.

Your thoughts chained from each confused question until suddenly—

"You folded that one incorrectly."

You closed your eyes.

Of course.

Slowly, you lifted the paper in question.

"...This one?"

"Hm."

"It looks fine."

"It doesn't."

"It does."

"It doesn't."

Your eye twitched.

When no further explanation came, you finally turned toward him.

"Then what's wrong with it?"

Hiroto lifted his gaze.

The corner of his mouth curved ever so slightly. That smug grin of his spreading on his beautiful face.

A dangerous sign.

"The corners."

You looked.

The corners looked perfectly normal.

"...They're uneven."

"They are not."

"They are."

"Hiroto-sama."

"They are."

You stared at each other.

Then, to your horror, a laugh nearly escaped you. Not because he was funny. He wasn’t.

Because he was impossible. The sound barely left your throat before you caught it.

Too late. Hiroto noticed.

His expression immediately shifted. He raised his eyebrow, sleeve covering his mouth as he peers at you. Almost like a curious cat.

As though he hadn't expected that reaction. As though he wasn't entirely certain what to do with it.

The moment lasted only a second before he clicked his tongue and looked away.

"hmmm.."

He didn't leave, He stared at you intensely like appraising a potato fit for his palate.

The clank of the sozu tipping over echoed as he leans away.

A breeze stirred the hanging wind chimes nearby. And somehow, the two of you remained there.

You sorting papers. Him pretending he wasn't lingering.

Neither acknowledging that this had become strangely normal.

At first, his presence had unsettled you.

Every glance felt like scrutiny. Every comment another hidden criticism waiting to happen.

You had spent weeks wondering what exactly irritated him so much about your existence.

Now, though... Now it was different.

You had begun noticing small things. The way he always appeared shortly before your lessons ended.

The way he slowed his pace whenever your duties happened to take you in the same direction.

The way he always found some excuse to remain nearby.

Correction. Observation. Supervision. The excuses changed often. The result never did.

And little by little, you found yourself growing accustomed to it.

Like the sound of evening bells. Like the scent of incense lingering in shrine halls.

Like the warmth of sunlight resting against wooden floors. Familiar things. Comforting things.

The realization unsettled you more than his presence ever had.

Because one afternoon, while carrying fresh flowers toward the altar, you caught yourself looking around first.

Searching. Not consciously. Not intentionally. Or maybe just a bit.

Just enough to notice when he wasn't there. You wanted to show him the flowers. To see if he liked Amaranth flowers. You even practiced what you learned from the botanist.

“Amaranths symbolize Never ending love, infinity. Times and times again. In this life, the next and so on.”

You thought it was mundane. Infinity meant forever. Other lives mean new beginnings and new ends.

The thought lingered longer than it should have.

Could someone really love another person across countless lives?

Even if their face changed. Their name changed. Their voice. Their habits.

Would they still recognize one another?

Or would they simply fall in love all over again, never realizing they had met before?

The flowers shifted slightly in your grasp. A breeze brushed against the back of your neck.

Warm.

Far warmer than the summer air should have been.

...

Wait.

Warm?

Before the realization could fully settle, a familiar voice suddenly spoke far too close to your ear.

"Lost in thought, Princess?"

!!!

You jolt as you immediately turn around, almost dropping the vase as the water spilled a bit on your byaku-e.

“pfft-“

Hiroto covered his mouth as he looked down at you with that smug smile.

“I think you spilled it, Princess.”

“You think?” “it’s not my fault you shriek as if I’m some ghost. And even if I was, I’d be a Handsome ghost. A God even.”

“..”

You stared at him. You could hardly believe this was the same man who called you a rodent, someone who said you should have just drowned. But maybe that’s what makes you never be able to leave his side. Because he seems to be more than he lets on.

"What? Captured by my beauty?"

"Yeah."

"Oh."

For perhaps the first time in his life, Hiroto seemed to run out of words.

The smug smile faltered. Only slightly.

Just enough for you to notice.

His gaze shifted away almost immediately.

The sleeve of his hanajuban rose to cover his mouth.

"...You are remarkably strange."

"That's not a denial."

“What are you? A Casanova?”

He clears his throat before he glances at you and finally notices the flowers you were holding.

“Amaranths?”

He asked with a skeptical raise of his brow.

“I asked for amaryllis”

“But these one’s I think are more suitable for the altar!”

“And who cares what you think?”

“.. Amaranths mean infinite love! Never ending love!”

Hiroto blinked. What does that have to do with anything? Is she deaf or something? He scowled as he scoffed.

“You have poor judgement.”

He says but his actions say otherwise, he moves to take the vase from your hands, a bit harshly but still, his eyes stare into the flowers, the white petals fresh and healthy, the tips of one starting to show slight aging.

"It's even flawed."

The petal he pointed at had begun curling at the edge.

Barely noticeable. You frowned.

"...Imperfection doesn't automatically make something bad."

For a moment, Hiroto's fingers stilled. Only for a moment.

Then his expression hardened.

"That's easy for you to say."

The response came quicker than expected. Sharper too.

His gaze lingered on the flower before he scoffed.

"You're equally flawed."

Hiroto brushed past you, carrying the flowers back to the hall to his room.

“wait Hiroto-sama! That’s for the alta-“

“Present Amaryllis as I said.”

“but-“

“get to it”

You sighed as you stare at his retreating figure.

He really is so hard to understand.

________________________________________________________________

The moment the door slid shut behind him, Hiroto kicked off his sandals.

A terribly unrefined thing to do. He immediately teetered to fix them on the side.

Fortunately, nobody was there to see it. He couldn’t afford to be seen being improper.

The sleeves of his haori dragged across the floor as he crossed the room, clutching the vase against his chest like some precious treasure.

The sight alone would have earned him a lecture. Future clan heads were not supposed to be happy over flowers that were supposed to be for altar offerings.

Hiroto didn't care. Not here. Not right now.

His room was the only place in the estate where he could breathe.

The only place where nobody watched him.

No servants. No elders. No expectations.

Just him. And the cranes.

Hundreds of them on the table, shelves, floor, swaying gently as the evening breeze wandered through the open veranda.

Purple. White. Gold.

Some neat. Some crooked.

Some old enough that the paper had begun to fade.

Hiroto dropped onto the tatami with far less grace than he would ever allow outside.

The amaranths found a place beside his desk.

Right in the middle of several unfinished cranes.

"..."

His eyes lingered on them. Then narrowed. As if he was trying to decipher the biological formation of the flowers.

"...Infinite love."

Silence.

A crane toppled over the side. Hiroto stared for a moment before he reached out to fix it up.

"Don't look at me like that."

The crane, unfortunately, refused to defend itself.

"Tch."

He leaned his cheek onto his folded arms, staring into the flowers and the cranes behind it.

The crane continued existing. A deeply irritating habit.

"You heard her too."

Nothing.

"Right?"

Nothing. Hiroto frowned.

Then grabbed the nearest crane and held it up.

"She said it with a completely straight face."

His voice lowered. Mocking. Or attempting to. His smile a bit crooked, as if clumsy.

"'Infinite love.'"

The words sounded embarrassingly soft when repeated.

His ears immediately grew warm.

"Ridiculous."

The crane offered no opinion. Hiroto slumped backward dramatically.

"She has terrible taste."

The crane remained neutral.

"Absolutely awful."

A pause.

"...She said I was handsome."

The silence somehow felt louder. His face immediately flushed.

"Not that it matters."

Another pause.

"Because obviously I am."

The crane remained unconvinced. Hiroto groaned.

Actually groaned.

Then covered his face with both hands.

What was wrong with him?

He felt like a teen.

No.

Worse.

A child.

Like some village boy writing poetry beneath a bridge.

The thought alone made him want to launch himself into the nearest river.

Yet despite that—

he couldn't stop smiling.

The memory replayed itself endlessly.

The flowers. Her voice.

The way she had immediately agreed.

“Yeah.”

As if it were obvious. As if being captivated by him wasn't some grand revelation.

As if she genuinely meant it.

His stomach flipped. Horribly.

Wonderfully?

The feeling made no sense.

He hated it?

He wanted more?

The flower in the vase slid to the side as if a testament to his thoughts.

Hiroto stared at it.

"...I think I like her."

The admission escaped before he could stop it.

Silence.

A loud crash followed. The door slammed open.

The cranes trembled violently and toppled over each other.

Hiroto immediately shot upright.

The smile vanished. His pulse froze.

His father stood in the doorway.

No knock. No warning.

No respect for privacy.

As though this room belonged to him too. As though Hiroto himself belonged to him.

The elder Shimizu's eyes swept across the room.

The scattered paper. The unfinished cranes.

The flowers. Then finally—

his son.

And suddenly Hiroto felt ten again.

Not the child from moments ago. The real one.

The frightened one.

The one who learned early that affection could be taken away. That mistakes had consequences.

That being loved and being useful were often the same thing. The room seemed smaller now.

The air heavier.

The cranes toppling over making a gentle sound in the quiet air.

Mocking him. Exposing him.

Every trace of warmth from moments ago disappeared.

And Hiroto hated himself for how quickly it happened.

For how quickly one look from his father could turn him back into a child. Hiroto closed the door behind him.

Hiroto rose to his feet before he consciously decided to.

His shoulders straightened. His smile disappeared.

Every instinct drilled into him since childhood falling neatly back into place.

The elder Shimizu's gaze swept across the room.

Hiroto hated silence.

Especially when it came from his father.

Because silence meant observation.

Judgment.

Disappointment waiting to take shape.

"You have been distracted."

The statement landed softly. It struck harder than shouting ever could.

Hiroto lowered his gaze.

"...I apologize."

"Do you?"

His father's eyes settled briefly on the amaranths. The flowers suddenly felt foolish.

Childish. Weak.

"You have responsibilities."

"I know."

"You have expectations."

"...Yes."

"And yet recently, your attention appears elsewhere."

Hiroto remained silent. His father stepped closer.

Not enough to threaten. Just enough.

Just enough for Hiroto's heartbeat to quicken. A ridiculous reaction.

He hated it. Hated how his hands wanted to tremble.

Hated how his chest tightened. Hated how, even now, he felt ten years old again.

Small. Powerless. Not enough. Not deserving.

The elder Shimizu's gaze sharpened.

"Emotional attachments create weakness."

The words settled heavily between them.

"You understand that."

"...Yes."

"The future head of this clan cannot afford sentimentality."

Hiroto's jaw tightened. His eyes remained lowered.

Because if he looked up—

if he looked directly at the old man—

“Don’t be like your brother.”

His breath caught. He wanted to look, He wanted to smile. But if he did.. he wasn't entirely sure what expression might appear on his face.

After all. He was taller now.

Much taller.

The realization had begun haunting him recently. His father no longer towered over him.

His shoulders were broader. His spiritual power stronger.

The servants already obeyed him before receiving confirmation from the clan head.

The elders listened when he spoke. The younger disciples admired him.

The future already belonged to him. If he truly wished it—

he could stop this.

The thought arrived suddenly.

Ugly.

Sharp.

A flash of violence.

The ends of his lips threatened to quirk into a smirk. His lashes over his eyes blurring the figure of his father. He wanted to end it. To look up at that man and show him just how “un-attached” he is to weakness. How he can wield strength as he taught him. His fingers twitch at the sides on the fabric of his clothes.

One push.

One command.

One act.

That was all it would take.

His stomach twisted. The thought horrified him.

Because somewhere deep inside—

he had wanted to.

Just for a moment.

Just long enough to imagine what freedom might feel like.

"..."

His nails dug into his palms. The thought disappeared as quickly as it came.

Ashamed. Disgusted. Terrified of himself.

His father continued speaking. Unaware. Or perhaps fully aware.

"The girl."

Hiroto immediately stiffened. The elder Shimizu noticed.

Of course he noticed. Nothing escaped him. He shaped this tool. This key.

"The arrangement exists for the prosperity of this clan."

His voice remained calm. Measured. Cruel in its certainty.

"You are to marry her purely for the sake of her strong spiritual prowess but If she begins interfering with your duties..."

A pause. The silence felt deliberate. As if his father was counting how many breaths it took to make his son snap.

"If she becomes a distraction."

His father’s hand gently reached to his shoulder. Holding, gripping.

The same hand that had guided his posture. Corrected his stance. Taught him how to hold a blade.

"Then she can be removed."

The room went still. Something cold settled in Hiroto's chest.

Not fear for himself. Something worse.

His father mistook the silence for understanding.

"Do not force my hand."

Then, without another word, the elder Shimizu turned and left.

The door slid shut. The room became quiet once more.

Yet somehow—

it no longer felt safe.

Hiroto remained standing exactly where he was. The amaranths still resting in the vase behind him.

A few petals bent beneath his grip. His breathing had become uneven.

His pulse loud. The warmth from earlier felt impossibly distant.

Gone. (A/n: Like my will to live!”)

Slowly, he looked down at the flowers. Then toward the closed door.

Then toward the evening sky beyond the veranda.

"..."

For the first time in a very long while, Hiroto pulled himself into the corner of the room.

His knees drew tightly against his chest. The evening breeze slipped through the open veranda.

Yet none of it felt comforting anymore. He lowered his head. Breathing slowly.

Carefully.

As though even that might break. The amaranths remained where he had left them.

Resting quietly beside the desk. A few white petals catching the last traces of sunlight.

Infinite love. Never-ending love.

What a foolish flower. What a foolish meaning.

And yet his gaze lingered on them. Long after the room had fallen silent.

Long after his father's footsteps disappeared.

As though somewhere between the petals and the promises they carried—

he could still remember what warmth had felt like.

Hiroto hated how quiet the room had become like the silence left too much space for thought.

Too much space for memory as his father's words lingered in the corners of the room long after he had left.

Like shadows, Like stains. Like bruises nobody could see.

Somewhere beyond the walls of his room, the estate continued on without him.

Servants carried lanterns. Disciples finished their lessons. Life moved forward.

It reaches it's hands all over the board as others move faster than the rest.

And Hiroto remained exactly where he was.

Small. Afraid. Alone. ____________________________________________________________

The little bird pecked curiously at your fingers.

You laughed quietly.

"Careful."

Its feathers had grown beautifully. Healthier than before.

Brighter. It’s feathers a soft blue with yellow.

The sight filled you with a strange warmth.

For weeks you had watched the servants care for it. Watched it stumble. Watched it grow.

And somehow—

every time you saw it, you thought of him. Not because they were alike.

But because that day had mattered. The day it fell.

The day he looked at it like he understood something nobody else did.

You adjusted your hold around the bird. The hallway stretched ahead.

Long. Quiet.

Leading toward his quarters.

"I wonder if he's awake." ________________________________________________________________

Hiroto fiddled with one of the cranes. His gaze swept to his room.

Hundreds of them. Thousands perhaps.

Hiroto never counted.

Counting would make him acknowledge how many there really were.

How many wishes he had folded into paper because nobody wanted to hear them spoken aloud.

His eyes drifted upward.

The vast night sky reflecting into his yellow eyes.

Not cruelly.

Never cruelly.

Just...

fondly.

The memory hurt more than it should have. His fingers tightened.

“Don't be like your brother.”

The words echoed again.

Again.

Again.

Again.

Until he wished they would stop. ________________________________________________________________

You paused briefly at the veranda.

The evening sky stretched above the shrine grounds in shades of violet and gold.

The bird chirped.

Its tiny wings fluttered impatiently.

Soon enough it would leave. Soon enough it wouldn't need anyone anymore.

The thought should have made you happy. Instead it felt oddly bittersweet.

You weren't entirely sure why.

Perhaps because growing meant leaving. Perhaps because all living things eventually moved on.

Even people. Especially people.

Your grip loosened slightly.

The bird nuzzled against your hand.

“Do you know how fragile he is?” ________________________________________________________________

People only remember the light. When they were lost in the dark.

Hiroto squeezed his eyes shut. The thought came uninvited.

Cruel. Familiar.

People remembered heroes. Prodigies. Clan heads.

People remembered those who stood at the front.

Nobody remembered shadows. Nobody remembered the ones standing behind them.

The ones who made no demands. The ones who quietly disappeared.

His chest tightened. And for the first time all evening—

he found himself wondering whether Kazuki had been lonely too. ________________________________________________________________

You reached his door. Then stopped.

For some reason, your hand hesitated before knocking.

The bird shifted in your arms. You weren't entirely sure what you wanted from this.

Maybe nothing. Maybe you simply wanted to share something good with someone.

A silly thing. A small thing. A bird with new feathers.

The sort of thing most people would never think twice about. But somehow... you wanted him to see it.

You stopped before his room.

The familiar voice in your head immediately protested.

"This is a bad idea."

"What if he's busy?"

"What if he gets annoyed?"

"What if— no. you can do this. if not you.. who else?"

You knocked anyway.

Silence.

You waited. 1... 2... 3..

"...Hiroto-sama?"

Nothing. The bird chirped.

You frowned. Normally he would've made some sort of sarcastic comment by now. Or told you to leave.

Or called you a nuisance.

The silence felt wrong. Knock knock. Your hand lifted again.

"Hiroto-sama?"

Still nothing. You glanced down.

The bird tilted its head. As if asking what the problem was.

"..."

Maybe he really wasn't there.

The thought should've relieved you.

Instead, it left an odd feeling in your chest.

You were about to turn away when something caught your attention.

A shadow moving beneath the door.

"Aha."

Someone was inside. You stared.

Then immediately felt stupid if you haven't yet.

Of course he was inside. He was just ignoring you.

"..."

Your shoulders slumped.

Right.

That sounded more like him.

You should leave. You knew you should.

Yet your feet remained rooted to the floor.

Because somehow, after everything.. it felt wrong.

Not the ignoring. Not even the rejection although it hurt.

Just...something. Something felt off. You thought your relationship this morning improved. You thought you finally understood.

The realization settled heavily in your chest.

And before you could overthink it—

you slid the door open.

You blinked.

"...What?"

Hiroto looked away first.

The room fell quiet once more, save for the soft rustling of paper cranes and the occasional chirp from the bird nestled in your hands.

You looked down at it Then back at him.

Then down again. You had absolutely no idea what was happening.

"...I just wanted to show you the bird."

The confession came out smaller than intended.

For some reason, that seemed to irritate him further.

His jaw tightened. A humorless laugh escaped him.

"Yes. I gathered that."

You frowned.

"Then why are you upset?"

"I am not upset."

"You sound upset."

"I sound correct."

"Those aren't mutually exclusive."

For a moment, Hiroto simply stared at you.

Then he scoffed and leaned his head back against the wall.

The motion looked heavier than it should have.

Like even sitting upright had become bothersome.

"...You really don't think before speaking."

"I think plenty."

"Doubtful."

You huffed.

The bird shifted in your hands, deciding this conversation was apparently less interesting than your sleeve.

You gently adjusted it before looking around the room again.

The cranes were impossible to ignore.

Now that you were actually inside, there seemed to be even more of them than you first thought.

Some hung from the ceiling.

Others rested on shelves.

A few sat forgotten near the window.

The lantern light caught against their folded wings.

Each one slightly different. Each one carefully made.

Your gaze drifted slowly across them.

"...Did you make all of these?"

Silence.

"Unfortunately."

You couldn't help but smile faintly.

"There are so many."

"I have functioning hands."

"No, I mean..."

Your voice softened.

"They're beautiful."

The moment the words left your mouth, Hiroto visibly froze

Like a stone skipping across still water.

The reaction vanished almost immediately.

Buried beneath annoyance. Buried beneath pride.

Buried beneath whatever walls he spent every waking hour building around himself.

Somehow that made your chest tighten.

Because suddenly—

the room felt different.

Not like the room of the future head of the Shimizu clan.

Not like the room of someone perfect.

It felt...

lonely.

A little too neat.

A little too quiet.

A little too full of things that couldn't answer back.

The thought lingered longer than it should have.

You weren't sure why.

Maybe because you understood it more than you wanted to.

Your fingers absentmindedly brushed the bird's feathers.

It had grown.

The tiny creature that had once fit entirely in your palms now sat comfortably perched against your wrist.

A few weeks ago it had looked so fragile.

So certain to fall. Yet here it was.

Alive. Growing.

"Remember when it almost fell from the nest?"

Hiroto's gaze shifted toward the bird.

Something flickered across his expression.

As if he was surprised it even survived this long.

"...Unfortunately."

You laughed. A small sound

The kind of laugh that escaped before permission could be asked.

The bird chirped immediately after, almost as if agreeing.

And for the briefest moment—

something eased.

The tension. The distance.

The strange heaviness hanging between the two of you.

It didn't disappear. Just loosened.

Enough to breathe. Enough to exist.

Then the silence returned.

Not uncomfortable.

Not entirely.

Outside, the evening had deepened.

The sky beyond the veranda stretched dark and endless, stars beginning to emerge one by one above the trees.

You found yourself staring at them.

Thinking.

Then speaking before you could stop yourself.

"...I used to wish a lot."

Hiroto didn't answer. But he didn't tell you to stop either.

So you continued.

"When I was younger."

Your gaze remained fixed on the night sky.

"I used to think if I wished hard enough, eventually something would change."

A small laugh escaped you.

"It never did."

The words settled softly between you. The room grew quiet again.

The kind of quiet that seemed to pull old thoughts from hiding.

When Hiroto finally spoke, his voice sounded strangely distant.

"...Wishes are useless."

You glanced toward him.

He was staring at one of the cranes near the ceiling.

Not really seeing it. Looking through it.

"Nothing changes because you wish for it."

The bitterness in his voice surprised you.

"Things change because someone sacrifices something."

The room felt colder suddenly. The lantern flame flickered.

A shadow crossed his face. For a moment, he looked less like Hiroto.

Less like the untouchable prodigy everyone admired.

And more like someone exhausted. Someone standing very far away.

"...Hiroto-sama."

His shoulders stiffened. The reaction was immediate.

Instinctive.

Like he'd braced himself for something.

For judgment.

For criticism.

For pity.

You weren't entirely sure.

But you saw it.

And for some reason—

that hurt.

Because he looked like someone waiting to be punished.

You lowered your gaze.

Then carefully scooted closer. The bird shifted with you.

Neither of you spoke. The space between you felt strangely fragile.

Like one wrong word might shatter it.

So instead, you held out the bird.

And despite himself—

despite everything—

Hiroto stared at the tiny creature perched upon his sleeve.

The bird chirped proudly.

As if it belonged there. As if it had chosen him.

"...Sora."

You blinked.

"What?"

"The bird."

His fingers gently brushed against its feathers.

"The sky."

"Oh."

The answer left you smiling.

You hadn't expected him to name it, but somehow it felt oddly fitting.

The little creature puffed itself up proudly, entirely unaware of the attention it had received.

A laugh escaped you. Without thinking, you glanced toward the open veranda. Toward the stars beginning to emerge beyond the trees.

"I think one of my wishes came true."

The words slipped out before you could stop them. Immediately you wished you could take them back. Too embarrassing. Too honest.

Your shoulders stiffened. Yet when you looked over—

Hiroto wasn't making fun of you.

He was simply staring. Judging maybe.

"...A wish?"

You nodded.

"A silly one."

"Then why make it?"

You opened your mouth. Paused.

Then smiled sheepishly. He really doesn't let that bitterness go, does he?

"Because I wanted something to look forward to."

The answer lingered. The room grew quiet.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The bird shuffled further up Hiroto's sleeve. Closer. Comfortably.

Hiroto watched it.

Then, unexpectedly—

his shoulder bumped lightly against yours as he tilted, looking out at the stars in the sky.

Not enough to startle. Not enough to be obvious.

Just subtly. Barely.

As if he'd forgotten himself for a second.

"...You're always off the mark."

His gaze remained fixed on the sky, on anything except you.

"...Then I suppose it was granted."

You blinked.

"What was?"

Immediately, Hiroto seemed to realize what he'd said.

His ears flushed.

A mistake.

An obvious mistake.

One he clearly wanted back. The silence stretched.

You stared. He continued to gaze afar.

The bird stared at absolutely nothing.

Then finally—

Hiroto Put his hand over your head, the long sleeves of his hanajuban covering your view of him.

Atlas would be a very clingy lover.

First thing he'll do the moment he woke up with you beside him is, simply hovering himself over and just drape himself over you. Playing with your hair be it long or short.

Smiling oh so cheekily, completely a sucker for you. The thought of you being his is just, something.

And so when you stir awake with him resting his chin on your chest, smiling up at you with a innocent and a bit of a mischievous glint. You just know you'll be stuck there for a good while, bet you wouldn't even complain about it. You wouldn't, why would you?

"Good, whatever the fuck time it is right now." He chuckled as he nuzzled impossibly closer to you, "Did you rest well? ...Me? I definitely do with you beside me—" He only laughed when you pushed his face away in embarrassment.

Atlas would be veeeryy pouty if you ignore him.

When you ignore him, be it as a prank or punishment, he would wrap his arms around your middle and rest his chin on your shoulder, nuzzling to your face and neck. Whispering questions of why are you ignoring him, sometimes whispering a little demand, telling you to look at him once.

But if any of his coaxing doesn't work, he'll be pouty for the rest of the day even after you given him your attention, it'll last for at least like 3 days before he just throw himself to you and trap you underneath him.

"Don't ignore me like that next time, you know I can't handle all that." He tuts, though he isn't really mad at you, he couldn't stay mad. Getting mad at you feels absolutely illegal, or at least that's what he thought.

Atlas would be a small spoon in bed.

He prefers to be held, though sometimes he doesn't mind to be the big spoon. But most of the time, he rather bury his face under your chin, finding comfort in your arms.

He held onto you quite, tightly. As if he was afraid, or maybe it was just your imagination.

He would love it if you play with his hair when you two are cuddling on the bed, he would literally melt into your hold.

"Mmm.. yes, more please." He sighed contently as he nuzzle his face on your chest.

The idea of Atlas turning into a penguin when he's embarrassed is so cute.

Like, what if he accidentally walked in on you? He would stood there, frozen. Eyes up, slowly going down and then within a blink he was no longer tall and poofed into something smaller.

A penguin.

His small fins covering his own eyes as he stutters in embarrassment, yelling at you for not locking the door of HIS OWN apartment.

"WHY DIDN'T YOU LOCK THE DOOR?!—" He scrambled as he stood by the door, it's closed already don't worry. "It's my— oh right.."

So cute.

So, all this concludes he is a golden retriever boyfriend. For now at least.

©grimssunshine — 2026 // Do not Copy/Translate/Use for AI