Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Morning sunlight poured lazily through the small windows of their cottage, filtering through hanging herbs and the faint shimmer of dust motes dancing in the light. The soft crackle of firewood and the smell of fresh bread baking filled the air.

It was an ordinary morning—at least, for them.
Which meant Rui was doing something ridiculous, and Tsukasa was pretending not to smile.

“Rui,” Tsukasa said, voice steady but his tone hinting at long-practiced patience, “what are you doing on the table?”

Rui, who was indeed sitting on the dining table, legs crossed and chin resting on his palm, gave an innocent blink behind his monocle. “I’m observing the natural beauty of the morning light,” he declared, dramatically gesturing toward the window. “Specifically, how it reflects off your—”

Tsukasa folded his arms.

“…off your forehead,” Rui finished lamely, lips twitching.

Tsukasa let out a breath through his nose—half sigh, half laugh—and went back to his coffee. Rui grinned triumphantly, slipping off the table with a flourish of his purple hair, which caught a golden streak of morning light as he landed.

Then came the sound of parchment being slipped through the crack of the door.

Rui perked up, curious. “A letter?”

Tsukasa walked over, picked it up, and frowned slightly at the seal—a golden crest of the Light Kingdom. He opened it quickly, scanning the lines with those sharp, disciplined eyes. Rui leaned over his shoulder, chin barely brushing against Tsukasa’s shoulder as he tried to read.

“What’s it say?” Rui murmured.

Tsukasa’s lips moved silently for a moment. Then, his expression changed. Just slightly. Just enough for Rui to notice. The corners of Tsukasa’s mouth lifted, soft and rare—like sunlight breaking through clouds.

“…They reinstated me,” Tsukasa said finally, voice low but carrying a warmth Rui had only heard a handful of times. “I’m allowed to stay with the White Knights. The king says… I’ve ‘served the kingdom beyond measure.’”

Rui blinked. He had never seen Tsukasa smile like that. Not his polite, stoic one—the one that hid everything—but something genuine, bright, almost boyish.

Rui leaned closer, eyes shining. “You’re smiling, Tsukasa-kun,” he said softly, teasing but fond.

Tsukasa turned his head slightly. “You’re too close, Rui.”

Rui ignored that entirely. “So,” he said slyly, eyes darting to the paper, “does that mean I’m legal now?”

Tsukasa’s brow twitched. “…What.”

Rui pointed to the letter. “You know, the kingdom might finally recognize that your incredibly handsome, dangerous, and formerly evil husband isn’t a criminal anymore.” He puffed his chest out. “Surely it says something about me too?”

Tsukasa exhaled, half amused. “Actually,” he said, flipping the letter and tapping the last paragraph with his finger, “it does.”

Rui blinked, leaning over again. The handwriting was neat and official:

“The sorcerer Rui Kamishiro, previously of the Dark Kingdom, is hereby permitted residence and freedom of movement within the Light Kingdom, under the provision that he refrains from magical misconduct or public disturbance.”

Rui froze. Then, slowly, the meaning sank in.

“…I can walk around without getting arrested?”

Tsukasa nodded, his rare smile softening. “That’s correct.”

Rui’s yellow eyes widened. Then sparkled. Then absolutely lit up.

He threw his arms in the air. “Then we must celebrate!” he shouted, spinning dramatically in place as if confetti might appear. “My first day as a law-abiding citizen! I’ll make you the most beautiful bouquet this kingdom has ever seen!”

Tsukasa blinked. “…That’s your idea of celebration?”

“Of course!” Rui said proudly. “It’s symbolic. You, my light, my chevalier, and I, your reformed, dashing husband who no longer breaks any laws!”

Tsukasa set the letter down, rubbing his temple. “You broke three laws last week by levitating the chickens.”

“They asked for it.”

“They did not.”

“They clucked twice! That’s consent!” Rui defended with mock offense, already waving his hand as crimson sparks began to shimmer around him.

Tsukasa sighed as petals began to swirl around the room like tiny magical snowflakes. “Rui, the last time you used magic indoors, we couldn’t open the pantry for a week.”

“This time will be different!” Rui insisted, focusing on his spell.

“Outside,” Tsukasa warned, voice sharp in that commander tone that made even the bravest knights listen.

Rui pouted. “You’re no fun, Tsukasa-kun.”

Tsukasa just raised a brow. “I’ll be in the kitchen.”

Rui’s eyes lit up again. “You’re cooking?”

“Yes.”

“What are you making?”

Tsukasa turned toward the stove, tying his apron—the blue, magically conjured ‘Kiss the Cook’ apron—over his casual white shirt. “Something edible, hopefully.”

Rui leaned against the doorway, watching him with a lazy grin. “Oh? Should I help?”

“No.”

“Why not?” Rui protested, following him in like an excited cat.

“Because last time, you set the soup on fire.”

“It was passionate soup!” Rui said, completely unashamed.

“Out,” Tsukasa ordered, pointing toward the door with the wooden spoon like a knight brandishing a sword.

Rui pouted even harder, but his grin betrayed him. “You’re so mean to me, my lovely husband. My muse. My domestic knight in shining apron.”

Tsukasa turned, eyes narrowing. “Rui. Out.”

Rui pressed a hand to his chest dramatically. “You wound me.”

“Out.”

Rui slowly backed out of the kitchen, hands raised in surrender, though his smirk only grew. “Fine, fine… but just so you know, that apron looks even better on you than it did last time. Really brings out your wai—”

“Finish that sentence,” Tsukasa interrupted flatly, “and I will test whether your magic can protect you from thrown cutlery.”

Rui froze for exactly two seconds. Then, in the sweetest voice possible: “Wouldn’t dream of it, dear.”

Tsukasa turned back to the stove, sighing, but there was the faintest upward curve to his lips. He stirred the pot, pretending not to hear the quiet chuckles coming from the other room.

Outside, Rui went to the garden, gathering a chaotic mix of flowers—dahlias, tulips, lavender, and the occasional wild bloom. He hummed to himself, twirling them in his hands, his magic weaving them into a dazzling bouquet that glowed faintly in the sunlight.

Inside, Tsukasa glanced toward the window and saw him—his sorcerer, his troublemaker, his love—bathed in gold and surrounded by flowers.

And for a brief moment, he just watched, hand still on the spoon, warmth in his chest.

A few months ago, this had seemed impossible.
Now, it was simply home.

Rui suddenly looked up and caught Tsukasa’s gaze through the window. He beamed, waved, and mouthed, “Love you!”

Tsukasa sighed, face pinking slightly. Then, with mock sternness, he mouthed back, “Focus.”

Rui blew him an exaggerated kiss.

Tsukasa turned away to hide his smile. “He’ll never change…” he murmured fondly.

But deep down, he didn’t want him to.

Chapter Text

The sun had dipped low beyond the castle walls, leaving the town bathed in the soft blush of twilight. Candles flickered in windows; laughter spilled from taverns; and in the middle of the cobblestone streets, a certain violet-haired sorcerer was causing a mild—if colorful—public disturbance.

“Here! A bouquet of renewal, for the kind baker who gives my darling knight free pastries!” Rui announced, presenting a dramatic swirl of blue tulips to an utterly bewildered old man.

The baker blinked. “Er… thank you?”

“Don’t mention it!” Rui beamed. “Your bread has brought me joy, so consider this a symbol of—” He paused mid-sentence, glancing at a nearby florist’s stand. “—oh, I must borrow that daisy, it perfectly symbolizes sincerity!”

Before the poor florist could reply, Rui was already reaching into her basket, slipping a few coins onto the counter as payment and vanishing into the evening crowd.

Behind him, townsfolk watched in a mix of amusement, confusion, and mild fear. The infamous sorcerer of the Dark Kingdom—now reformed, supposedly—was handing out flowers as if he were the kingdom’s most eccentric romantic spirit.

“Rui!”

The familiar voice, stern yet soft, cut through the air. Rui turned to see Tsukasa striding toward him, the knight’s silver armor glinting faintly in the torchlight. He’d foregone his cloak tonight, wearing instead a simpler tunic and belt—still crisp, still proper, but less formal.

Rui’s grin widened instantly. “Tsukasa-kun! I was just spreading joy! Look, even the guards smiled at me—oh, wait, no, that one’s frowning—never mind.”

Tsukasa’s expression was calm, though his hand subtly rested against the hilt of his sword. “You’ve been giving out flowers for two hours.”

“Yes! Isn’t it beautiful?” Rui clasped his hands dramatically, his voice carrying like a stage actor’s. “A symbol of peace! A reformed man bringing love to the kingdom he once frightened! A walking bouquet of redemption!”

Tsukasa’s lips twitched. “You frightened the baker’s dog.”

“I frightened everyone’s dogs, Tsukasa-kun,” Rui said proudly, puffing his chest. “That’s called charm.”

A sigh escaped Tsukasa’s throat, the sound halfway between exasperation and fondness. “We’re going home.”

“Home?” Rui blinked, then gasped theatrically. “Ah, yes, our celebration dinner! The feast of unity! The banquet of lawfulness!”

“...Dinner,” Tsukasa said flatly, though his eyes were glimmering faintly with amusement.

Rui looped his arm around Tsukasa’s without waiting for permission, leaning against him as they walked. “You’re smiling again, my chevalier. Oh, my heart can’t take it!”

“I’m not smiling.”

“You are,” Rui insisted. “Look at you. You’re radiant. My heart’s going to combust from all this joy.”

Tsukasa glanced sideways at him, deadpan. “If your heart combusts, I’m not cleaning it up.”

Rui burst out laughing so loudly a few children nearby stopped to stare. “Ah! He jests! My knight makes jokes! Truly, we live in blessed times!”

“Rui.”

“Coming, coming.”

They returned to the cottage beneath a sky streaked with pink and gold. The air was cool, the scent of herbs and dew wrapping around them like a soft shawl. Rui pushed open the door and immediately filled the space with magic—candles flickered to life, petals drifted from nowhere, and faint harp music began playing from the corner of the room.

Tsukasa froze mid-step. “Rui.”

Rui twirled toward him, smiling like mischief itself. “Do you like it? I wanted ambiance! You know, for our romantic evening.”

“This looks like a shrine.”

“A shrine to love!” Rui declared, striking a pose as a flurry of red light swirled behind him.

Tsukasa pinched the bridge of his nose. “We’re eating. Sit down before you set something on fire again.”

“Oh, ye of little faith,” Rui said dramatically, but obeyed. He perched elegantly at the table, folding his hands like a gentleman at a royal banquet.

Tsukasa, now wearing his “Kiss the Cook” apron so his tunic would not get possibly stained, set down a dish of roasted vegetables, fresh bread, and herb-seasoned chicken. It wasn’t extravagant—Tsukasa didn’t do extravagant—but it smelled divine.

Rui leaned forward immediately, eyes wide. “Tsukasa-kun, is that—wait, did you bake this bread yourself?”

“Yes.”

“And that glaze—did you make it too?”

“Yes.”

“Tsukasa-kun, you’re…” Rui’s voice dropped dramatically. “…a domestic deity. Wait a second. What are these vegetables doing here, Tsukasa-kun.”

“Not for you, for me. Now, sit. Eat,” Tsukasa said firmly, sitting down.

Rui did, moaning after the first bite so loudly that Tsukasa froze mid-chew and shot him a small glare. “Oh my god, this is—this is transcendent! You’ve outdone yourself!”

“It’s chicken, Rui. Just normal, basic chicken i have prepared countless times before.”

“It’s love!” Rui countered, pointing at the dish. “Love in culinary form! Oh, the love put into this chicken is absolutely splendorous~”

Tsukasa gave him a long, weary stare that melted into quiet laughter. Rui froze, blinking at the sound.

Tsukasa rarely laughed out loud. His chuckles were usually quiet, restrained, polite. But this was real—soft and breathy, the kind that made his shoulders shake just slightly.

Rui felt warmth spread through his chest. “You’re laughing,” he said softly.

Tsukasa composed himself, clearing his throat. “Your theatrics make it difficult not to.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Rui leaned closer, chin propped on his palm. “You know, you’re extraordinary when you smile. Makes me want to do something reckless, like propose all over again.”

Tsukasa’s hand stilled on his fork. “…Please don’t.”

“I’m serious.” Rui’s grin was genuine now, less teasing, more gentle. “You have this way of making the world feel safe. Even for someone like me.”

Tsukasa looked up at him, eyes softening. “You’re not someone like anything, Rui. You’re just you. And unfortunately i love you with all my heart and soul, even if you explode things and refuse to eat vegetables.”

Rui blinked—caught off guard by the quiet sincerity. “…You’re going to make me cry,” he said with a shaky laugh.

“Don’t. I cooked.”

Rui laughed again, a bit teary-eyed now, and went back to eating before emotion overtook him. The rest of the meal was filled with small talk, laughter, and the occasional affectionate insult. Tsukasa pretended to scold Rui for his dramatics; Rui pretended to swoon whenever Tsukasa so much as raised an eyebrow.

After dinner, Rui insisted on “dessert,” which apparently meant “something spontaneous and ridiculous and anything but an actual dessert.” He snapped his fingers, and the air filled with tiny glowing motes of light—flowers blooming from pure magic that floated lazily around the room.

Tsukasa blinked. “Rui—”

“Relax! They’re harmless!” Rui said quickly, watching as one of the glowing blossoms drifted down to rest on Tsukasa’s shoulder. “They represent eternal devotion!”

Tsukasa looked unimpressed. “It’s glowing. And this is not dessert.”

“It’s symbolic! And, i could never guess my beloved chevalier wanted dessert so badly~” Rui argued, then softened, voice lowering as he reached out to brush the petals gently from Tsukasa’s sleeve. “You know, I never thought I’d have this.”

Tsukasa tilted his head. “This?”

Rui smiled faintly. “Peace. Love. Dinner that doesn’t explode.”

Tsukasa chuckled quietly, the sound filling the warm little room. “That last one is because you were out when i was cooking. I can cook, as long as you are not around.”

“I know,” Rui murmured, eyes soft. “You make everything feel… easy.”

Silence lingered, comfortable and full. Rui’s usual playful grin softened into something real—something tender.

Then, just as the mood reached its softest point, Rui’s mischievous spark returned. He smirked. “So, my dearest knight… dessert’s over. I believe there’s a rule about that apron you’re wearing.”

Tsukasa blinked, glancing down at the blue fabric. “‘Kiss the Cook.’”

Rui waggled his eyebrows. “Exactly.”

Tsukasa gave him a flat stare. “Don’t you dare, Rui Kamishiro.”

Rui leaned in, all innocence. “Impossible to resist?”

Tsukasa’s face flushed crimson, but he stood his ground. “Finish that line, Rui, and I—”

He didn’t finish, because Rui leaned forward, closed the space between them, and kissed him.

It wasn’t theatrical or exaggerated—just soft. Honest.

Tsukasa froze for a moment, then relaxed into it, eyes fluttering shut.

When Rui finally pulled back, he smiled—bright and teasing, but his voice was gentle when he whispered, “Happy celebration dinner, my knight.”

Tsukasa exhaled, cheeks warm. “You’re incorrigible.”

“And you love me.”

Tsukasa sighed, the kind of sigh that meant yes. “Whatever.”

Rui grinned, triumphant, and leaned back in his chair. “Then I’d say this celebration was a success.”

Tsukasa shook his head, laughing softly. “You’re so odd, I don’t know how I feel for you.”

Rui winked. “I’m just special, and with the power of flower rizz i have swayed your cute cold heart, fufu~”

Tsukasa’s smile dropped and he gave his husband a small glare. There was that word again: flower rizz. But, when he saw Rui’s beaming smile, he decided not to comment on it and just enjoy the evening with his weird, but lovable, sorcerer.

Chapter Text

The morning light slipped gently through the half-drawn curtains of their cottage, stretching across the floorboards and brushing against the tangled blankets of a shared bed. A faint scent of roses still lingered from the bouquet Rui had conjured the previous night.

The bed was warm, but half empty.

Rui stirred, long lashes fluttering as he reached out instinctively to where Tsukasa usually lay beside him—expecting the familiar weight, the quiet, steady breath, the solid presence of the chevalier who grounded him. But his hand met only cool sheets.

His eyes blinked open slowly, adjusting to the light. “...Tsukasa?”

Silence.

Rui sat up, hair falling messily into his face, the soft lavender strands catching a faint shimmer of morning glow. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, pouting as he looked around the room. The armor stand was empty. The polished sword that always leaned by the door was gone.

On the bedside table, folded neatly beside a single white daphne flower, was a letter.

Rui’s heart gave a small flutter as he reached for it. The handwriting was unmistakably Tsukasa’s—neat, precise, almost stiff, as though even the ink had discipline.“Rui,

I’ve gone to the capital for duty. I’ll return before nightfall. Please behave. —T.”

“‘Please behave,’” Rui repeated out loud, tone dripping with mock offense. “How rude. As if I’d ever cause trouble.”

He tilted his head thoughtfully, then smiled—a slow, dangerous kind of smile. The kind that usually preceded chaos.

“Well,” he said, stretching like a cat and stepping onto the floor, “if my beloved knight is away on duty, it’s only polite that I visit him. I can’t have him missing me too much, can I?”

He paused, fingers brushing over the daphne flower again. “After all, what’s marriage without a little excitement?”

It took Rui less than 5 minutes to dress—his usual flamboyant, outfit that screamed “not regulation-approved” even from a distance—and even less time to teleport halfway to the capital using his magic.

He appeared in a swirl of crimson smoke just beyond the city gates, earning startled gasps from two guards on patrol.

“Ah—don’t mind me, gentlemen,” Rui said with a charming grin, brushing invisible dust off his sleeves. “Just a loving husband coming to see his knight.”

The guards blinked. One whispered to the other, “Isn’t that the Dark Kingdom sorcerer?”

Rui cupped his ear theatrically. “Former Dark Kingdom sorcerer. Do keep up.” He winked, then started strolling down the main street as if he owned the place.

The capital was busy this morning—market stalls clattering with chatter, vendors calling out prices, and the smell of fresh bread wafting through the air. Rui moved through it like color in a sea of gray, turning heads wherever he went.

A few children pointed. One woman whispered, “That’s the one the chevalier saved.”

Rui smiled faintly. The title chevalier had become synonymous with Tsukasa in this kingdom. Everyone knew him. Everyone respected him. And Rui—Rui loved him in a way that both soothed and ached.

He stopped by a flower vendor, unable to resist. “Good morning!” he greeted brightly. “Tell me, what’s your most romantic bloom?”

The old vendor eyed him warily. “You’re that sorcerer, aren’t you?”

“Reformed,” Rui corrected cheerfully. “And utterly in love.”

After a hesitant moment, the vendor sighed and handed him a small bundle of lilies and bluebells. Rui pressed coins into the woman’s hand and gave her a bow so dramatic it made two passersby chuckle.

“Perfect,” he whispered, tucking the bouquet under his arm as he continued his stroll toward the military quarter.

Meanwhile, Tsukasa was already halfway through his morning briefing at the White Knights’ headquarters. He stood tall and immaculate, giving orders with the kind of calm authority that silenced a room. His voice was steady, his armor polished, his every movement precise.

But as the meeting adjourned and he stepped out into the courtyard, a faint unease tugged at him.

He couldn’t quite explain it, but years of command had sharpened his instincts, and they were whispering to him now.

Something was coming.

And it was probably wearing a cape.

Rui’s timing was impeccable—or catastrophic, depending on perspective.

The moment Tsukasa began walking across the courtyard toward the training fields, a small gust of magical wind swept through the area. Knights raised their hands against the sudden flurry of petals raining from nowhere.

And there, standing in the middle of it all, was Rui Kamishiro—smiling like a star fallen to earth.

“Rui,” Tsukasa said immediately, voice dangerously calm.

“Ah! There you are, my dearest!” Rui sang, striding forward with the confidence of a man immune to self-preservation. “You didn’t think you could sneak off to work without a goodbye kiss, did you?”

Every knight in the courtyard froze. The tension was palpable. Someone coughed. Someone else whispered, “Is he serious?”

Tsukasa’s jaw twitched. “Rui. We talked about boundaries.”

Rui tilted his head, still holding the bouquet. “Boundaries are just hugs waiting to happen.”

Tsukasa pinched the bridge of his nose. “You can’t be here.”

“But I missed you!” Rui pouted. “Besides, you left such a lovely note. It inspired me.”

“Inspired you to what, exactly?”

“To bring flowers to every officer in the city,” Rui said proudly. “You’d be surprised how grumpy your colleagues are. I’m doing public relations!”

Tsukasa exhaled through his nose, his composure cracking. “Rui, you can’t just—”

“Oh! Speaking of!” Rui interrupted, producing a folded piece of parchment. “I made you a permission slip!”

Tsukasa blinked. “…A what?”

“It says,” Rui declared, clearing his throat dramatically, “‘I, Tsukasa Tenma, grant Rui Kamishiro permission to kiss me anytime he wishes, regardless of public setting or kingdom laws.’”

The knights around them collectively choked.

Tsukasa stared at him. “You forged my signature, didn’t you.”

“It’s a magical reproduction!” Rui said, grinning. “Very accurate!”

“Rui.”

“Yes, my love?”

Tsukasa took a deep breath—then reached forward, grabbed Rui gently but firmly by the wrist, and began walking toward the barracks. “We’re leaving.”

“But I brought lilies!” Rui protested, stumbling after him. “And bluebells! Do you know what they mean?”

“No.”

“Gratitude and everlasting love!” Rui beamed, clutching the bouquet as if it were a shield. “You should swoon.”

“I’m restraining myself,” Tsukasa said dryly.

As they exited the training grounds, a young knight whispered, “Is that his husband?”

Another muttered, “The sorcerer? He’s real?”

And someone else sighed dreamily, “I want what they have.”

Back at their cottage, Tsukasa finally released Rui with a sigh. “You could’ve caused chaos, Rui. Again.”

Rui just grinned, unfazed. “And yet, no chaos. Only adoration.”

“You were this close to being arrested.”

“Ah, but you would’ve saved me again, wouldn’t you?” Rui said softly, eyes glinting.

Tsukasa turned away, muttering, “You’re insufferable.”

Rui followed, slipping his arms around Tsukasa’s waist from behind and resting his chin on his shoulder. “I love you too, Tsukasa-kun.”

“…I never said I did,” Tsukasa said, though his tone lacked any real bite.

Rui laughed quietly against his neck. “You know, I rather like this new routine of ours. You go to work, I cause minor diplomatic incidents, and then we have dinner.”

Tsukasa closed his eyes, exhaling through a small, helpless smile. “You’re going to be the end of me.”

“Then I’ll make it a beautiful ending,” Rui murmured, tightening his embrace just slightly. “After all, I’m a man of aesthetics.”

Tsukasa turned in his arms, finally meeting his eyes. “Just promise me you won’t appear at my post again.”

Rui hesitated—then smiled. “Fine. I’ll wait for you at home next time.”

“…Thank you.”

Rui grinned. “Of course. Unless I get really bored.”

“Rui.”

“Yes, dear?”

“Don’t.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it!” Rui sang, kissing Tsukasa’s cheek.

Tsukasa sighed again, but this time, it came with laughter—the quiet, warm kind Rui lived for.

And as the early noon faded into day, the reformed sorcerer and his stoic chevalier settled into another chapter of their strange, gentle life together—where mischief met discipline, chaos met calm, and love, somehow, made it all work.

Chapter Text

The next morning dawned bright and warm, spilling sunlight through the windows of the little cottage. Tsukasa was halfway through his coffee, scanning the day’s duty roster, when Rui’s voice cut across the quiet like a cheerful thunderbolt.

“Tsukasa-kun!”

Tsukasa sighed. “…Yes?”

Rui burst into the kitchen, his hair pulled back and his eyes glinting with mischief. “I’ve decided to invite a friend over tomorrow!”

The chevalier blinked. “A… friend?”

“Yes!” Rui said, beaming. “Isn’t that wonderful?”

Tsukasa set down his cup slowly. “You… have a friend?”

Rui gasped, clutching his chest as if mortally wounded. “You say that like I’m some tragic hermit!”

Tsukasa raised an eyebrow. “You spent most of your life alone in a tower plotting chaos.”

“Innovating!” Rui corrected. “And for your information, this friend of mine is delightful. We used to work together before the war ended—she’s charming, brilliant, graceful—”

“—and from the Dark Kingdom,” Tsukasa finished, his tone flat as stone.

Rui hesitated. “…Technically.”

Tsukasa groaned, rubbing his temples. “Rui.”

“Now, now,” Rui said quickly, waving a hand. “No need to be dramatic, my chevalier. She’s coming in disguise! Entirely undercover! No one will suspect a thing!”

“Undercover?!”

“Exactly!” Rui grinned. “You won’t even recognize her.”

Tsukasa stared at him, exasperation simmering beneath his calm. “This is a terrible idea.”

“Please, you’ll love her! And promise me, when she arrives—no screaming.” Rui pointed at him solemnly. “Absolutely none of your little outbursts.”

“I do not have outbursts.”

“You once yelled at a pigeon for stealing bread.”

“That pigeon attacked me.”

Rui smirked. “See? Outbursts.”

Tsukasa exhaled. “Fine. One friend. No chaos.”

Rui’s grin turned dazzling. “Perfect! I’ll tell her to come by noon tomorrow. And you’ll be on your best behavior!”

Tsukasa muttered, “You say that like I’m the problem.”

Rui just hummed, already thinking of decorations.

The next day arrived far too quickly. Tsukasa had just finished cleaning the kitchen—again—and was trying to enjoy a quiet moment of peace when a gentle knock echoed through the cottage. He glanced at the clock. Noon.

“Rui, your friend is here,” he called, walking toward the door.

“Coming!” Rui’s voice floated from somewhere down the hall, followed by the sound of something crashing. “Don’t open it yet!”

Tsukasa sighed. “I’ll handle it.”

He opened the door.

And promptly screamed.

Standing on the porch, radiant as a sunbeam and unmistakably regal despite her casual cloak, was none other than Princess Nene Kusanagi of the Dark Kingdom.

“HEL—WHAT—WHY—THE—” Tsukasa’s words tumbled out incoherently as he pointed in horror. “The princess!?”

Nene blinked, her expression calm and polite. “You must be the chevalier Rui married. He has weird choices in love, but i suppose he, too, is weird…”

Before Tsukasa could finish his second, slightly higher-pitched scream, Rui appeared behind him, practically bouncing with excitement.

“There she is!” he exclaimed, darting past Tsukasa to grab Nene’s hand. “You made it!”

“Rui,” she greeted dryly, though a faint smile tugged at her lips. “You haven’t changed at all.”

“You wound me,” Rui gasped dramatically, leading her inside. “Come, come! I’ve been dying to show you our home!”

Tsukasa stumbled after them, still pale. “Rui—Rui, what—what is happening—why is the princess of the enemy kingdom—in our house?!”

Nene glanced over her shoulder, expression utterly unbothered. “You’re loud.”

Rui snickered. “He always is.”

“RUI!”

“Now, now, love, let’s not shout in front of royalty,” Rui teased, guiding Nene into the living room. “We have guests!”

“You said she was undercover!” Tsukasa hissed.

“She is!” Rui replied cheerfully. “Look, she’s wearing a cloak!”

Nene added dryly, “Yes, very inconspicuous. No one will notice the princess of the Dark Kingdom hiding under a cloak with the royal crest embroidered on it.”

Tsukasa groaned audibly. “I’m going to faint.”

“Oh, don’t be dramatic,” Rui said, ushering Nene toward the couch. “Tea?”

“Yeah, thanks,” Nene said, sitting gracefully.

Rui snapped his fingers, and a tray appeared midair, floating toward her with a perfectly arranged tea set.

Tsukasa lunged forward and grabbed it before it could spill. “Stop summoning things near the princess!”

“Oh hush,” Rui said, waving him off. “She loves my magic.”

“I love when it doesn’t explode,” Nene corrected.

Tsukasa looked like he wanted to sink into the floor.

Once the tea was poured and the tension had somewhat settled, conversation began—mostly between Rui and Nene, with Tsukasa sitting stiffly like a guard dog who couldn’t decide whether to attack or run.

Nene, as it turned out, was surprisingly… normal. Her demeanor was calm, her wit sharp, her patience endless—traits Tsukasa could almost admire if he weren’t too busy panicking about harboring a royal guest.

“So,” Nene said after a sip of tea, “this is the chevalier who tamed the infamous Rui Kamishiro?”

Rui gasped dramatically. “Tamed? Tamed? I’ll have you know I’m entirely self-controlled!”

Tsukasa muttered, “You set fire to a curtain last week.”

Nene hid a smirk behind her teacup. “I see.”

Rui waved a dismissive hand. “Semantics! The point is, we’re domestic now. Peaceful. Married.” He laced his fingers together proudly. “See? Even my dear Tsukasa is soft now.”

Tsukasa gave him a warning look. “Rui.”

“Oh, don’t be shy!” Rui teased, leaning closer to Nene. “He even wears the apron when he cooks—‘Kiss the Cook,’ can you believe it?—and he’s such a housewife, it’s adorable.”

Tsukasa froze mid-sip of his tea. “…Rui.”

Nene’s lips twitched. “That’s… quite an image.”

“Oh, you have no idea,” Rui said cheerfully. “He even hums while washing dishes! The terror of the battlefield, humming over dinnerware—it’s poetic!”

Tsukasa’s face was turning crimson. “I do not hum.”

“You do,” Rui said sweetly. “It’s endearing.”

Nene tilted her head. “You’re very brave, Rui, teasing the man who once nearly decapitated you.”

“Oh, I prefer to think of it as flirting through near-death experiences… You could say i was quite into it, Tsukasa looks beautiful when he is mad and wants to slice your throat,” Rui replied.

Tsukasa slammed his cup down, cheeks burning. “RUI!”

Rui beamed. “See, Nene? He’s always like this.”

Nene laughed quietly—a soft, melodic sound that seemed to surprise even her. “You two are… interesting.”

“Thank you,” Rui said brightly. “We try.”

After tea, Rui insisted on showing Nene the garden—his pride and joy. Tsukasa followed closely, still on edge, scanning every bush like it might contain a spy.

“And here,” Rui said dramatically, “is the heart of our peace treaty!” He gestured toward a patch of brilliant flowers—daphnes, lilies, white roses—all glowing faintly under a touch of magic.

Nene crouched, admiring them. “They’re beautiful.”

“Each one represents something,” Rui said proudly. “Love, purity, devotion, serenity—”

“And you?” Nene asked softly.

Rui paused, glancing at Tsukasa. “Redemption,” he said.

Tsukasa’s expression softened.

Nene stood, brushing off her cloak. “You’ve both built something good here. I’m glad.”

Then, with a sly glance at Tsukasa, she added, “You’re not nearly as terrifying as the stories say, Sir Tenma.”

Tsukasa blinked, startled. “I… thank you?”

Rui laughed. “See? Everyone loves you!”

“Everyone tolerates me,” Tsukasa corrected.

Nene smiled faintly. “You make Rui happy. That’s enough.”

Tsukasa blinked, caught off guard by the quiet sincerity in her tone. Rui’s cheeks flushed pink, and he quickly changed the subject. “Right! Cookies! I baked some this morning—well, I tried to, before Tsukasa exiled me from the kitchen—”

“You set the oven on fire,” Tsukasa reminded.

“Semantics!” Rui sang once more. “Nene, let’s test his culinary skills! If you faint, we’ll call it a success!”

By the time afternoon turned to evening, laughter filled the cottage. Nene had shed her royal stiffness, teasing Rui mercilessly, and even Tsukasa had relaxed enough to sit beside them with something close to a smile.

When she finally stood to leave, the air felt lighter.

“Thank you for the hospitality,” Nene said politely, adjusting her cloak. “And for not having me arrested.”

Tsukasa inclined his head. “Thank you for not declaring war.”

Rui giggled. “Ah, diplomacy at its finest.”

As Nene stepped out into the twilight, she glanced back. “Take care of each other. And Rui—try not to drive him insane.”

“No promises!” Rui called after her, waving.

Tsukasa shut the door slowly, exhaling. “Rui… please never do that again.”

Rui smiled sweetly, stepping close enough that their shoulders brushed. “No promises there, either.”

Tsukasa groaned softly, but his lips curved into a faint, helpless smile. And Rui, of course, noticed. “See?” Rui murmured, resting his head on Tsukasa’s shoulder. “You’re smiling again.”

Tsukasa sighed. “You’re impossible.”

Rui’s grin widened. “And you love me.”

“…I do, yes,” Tsukasa replied, and Rui’s laughter rang like windchimes through their little home—another peaceful, chaotic, wonderful day in their strange, shared life.

Chapter Text

It began on an ordinary morning, the kind where the light spilled softly through the cottage’s windows, birds chirped outside, and Rui was sprawled on the couch, dramatically draped like some bored aristocrat. Tsukasa sat across from him at the table, sharpening his sword with calm, deliberate motions. It should have been peaceful. It was peaceful—until Rui opened his mouth.

“So, Tsukasa-kun,” Rui began innocently, twirling a lock of his hair around his finger, “I was thinking about how nice it was to have guests over. Perhaps I should invite another one of my friends soon!”

Tsukasa’s hand stilled. “…Another one?”

Rui’s smile widened, eyes gleaming with mischief. “Naturally! I have plenty of acquaintances across both kingdoms. Inventors, mages, a few reformed thieves—wonderful people, really!”

Tsukasa turned his head slowly, suspicion etched into every line of his face. “You have more friends?”

Rui gasped theatrically, clutching his chest as if Tsukasa had struck him. “Oh, how cruel! You say that as if I’m some lonely outcast incapable of companionship!”

Tsukasa raised an eyebrow. “Rui. You were an infamous war sorcerer who terrorized border villages for years.”

Rui pouted. “Yes, but I had style.”

Tsukasa sighed, dragging a hand down his face. “I thought Nene was your only friend.”

Rui waved a dismissive hand. “She’s one of my favorites, certainly. But I have others. I keep in touch with them through… sources.”

Tsukasa blinked. “…Sources?”

“Yes, sources,” Rui said smoothly, folding his hands with exaggerated grace. “People who owe me favors, birds who carry messages, occasional whisper networks between curious mages… It’s all very discreet.”

Tsukasa stared at him flatly. “So, spies.”

Rui gasped again. “How dare you! They’re friends!”

“I don’t think friends are supposed to deliver information through coded letters.”

Rui tilted his head thoughtfully. “Perhaps not in your circles, dear chevalier, but mine are rather more… creative.”

Tsukasa pressed his lips together, deciding it was safer not to ask further. “Right. Well, as long as your so-called friends don’t cause trouble.”

Rui smirked, eyes glinting. “Me? Cause trouble? I’d never.”

Tsukasa’s response was an unimpressed hum.

After a moment, Rui leaned forward, chin propped on his palm. “Speaking of friends, Tsukasa-kun… do you have any?”

Tsukasa froze mid-motion. “…Excuse me?”

“I mean outside of me, of course,” Rui said lightly, smiling as if this were a casual chat and not a dagger to Tsukasa’s pride. “Surely you must have people you spend time with—comrades, confidants, drinking partners?”

Tsukasa scoffed. “You sound as though you think I don’t have friends. I do.”

“Oh?” Rui’s smile widened dangerously. “You mean those other knights you occasionally nod at in passing? The ones who look like they’re afraid to make eye contact?”

“I—what—They are not afraid of me!” Tsukasa sputtered, face turning faintly pink.

Rui pretended to think. “Oh, you’re right, I’m sure they’re just too intimidated by your stoic aura to speak freely.”

“Rui.”

“Yes, Tsukasa-kun?”

“I have friends.”

Rui leaned back, obviously enjoying himself. “Prove it.”

Tsukasa blinked, caught off guard. “…Prove it?”

“Yes!” Rui gestured dramatically. “Go on—spend time with your peers! Laugh! Converse! Frolic in the camaraderie of friendship!”

“I don’t ‘frolic.’”

“Not with that attitude!” Rui said brightly.

Tsukasa groaned softly, staring at his sword as if it might rescue him. Yet Rui’s teasing struck a chord. Maybe… maybe he had been distant. His duty always came first, but it had been months since he’d had a proper conversation with any of his fellow knights outside of strategy meetings or battle formations.

The thought lingered through the evening, even as Rui hummed around the house, blissfully unaware that his playful words had actually taken root.

The next morning, the White Knights’ training grounds gleamed under the early sun. The rhythmic clang of swords echoed across the courtyard, mingling with shouts and the rustle of armor.

Tsukasa stood at the center, focused as always, his blade glinting in clean arcs. To his left, Akito Shinonome—his fellow knight and frequent sparring partner—adjusted his stance, calling out, “You’re really putting all your energy into this, Chief! Did Rui say something again?”

Tsukasa’s swing faltered slightly. “…No.”

“Ah, he did,” Akito said knowingly, grinning.

“He didn’t,” Tsukasa insisted.

“Right, right,” Akito said with an amused shrug. “Anyway, Mizuki’s on the next rotation. You two should warm up together—Commander’s orders.”

Tsukasa nodded curtly, sheathing his sword and turning toward the far end of the field, where Mizuki Akiyama leaned lazily against a fence post, twirling a practice sword.

“Hey, Chief,” Mizuki greeted with a smirk. “Back for another day of heroic brooding?”

Tsukasa frowned. “I do not brood.”

“You totally brood,” Mizuki said cheerfully, straightening up. “You’ve got the whole mysterious knight aesthetic down perfectly. It’s like a performance.”

“It’s not an act,” Tsukasa replied, drawing his sword again. “It’s discipline.”

“Sure it is,” Mizuki said, sidestepping easily as Tsukasa swung the blade toward them in a slow, controlled motion. “So, what’s with the sudden social energy today? Usually, you just train, scowl, and leave before anyone says goodbye.”

Tsukasa hesitated before replying, “…I thought I’d make an effort.”

Mizuki blinked, surprise flickering across her face before she grinned mischievously. “Ohhh, Rui’s rubbing off on you, huh?”

Tsukasa’s grip tightened on his sword. “Don’t compare me to him.”

“I mean, you are smiling more lately,” Mizuki teased, circling him. “And your aura’s less ‘knight who’ll stab me for breathing too loud’ and more ‘knight who might sigh disapprovingly but still help me carry groceries.’ It’s cute.”

Tsukasa paused mid-swing, face coloring faintly. “I am not—cute.”

“Whatever you say, Chief,” Mizuki said, laughing. “You’re totally domesticated now. Bet you even cook breakfast for him.”

Tsukasa opened his mouth, then closed it again. “…That’s irrelevant.”

Mizuki’s grin widened. “You do, don’t you?! Oh my god.”

Tsukasa exhaled sharply, deciding the conversation was a tactical ambush. “Focus on your stance.”

“Yes, yes, sir!” Mizuki saluted dramatically, stepping closer. “Don’t worry, Chief, your secret’s safe with me. But I gotta say—it’s kind of adorable. Rui’s chaos meets your stoic charm. You two are like… fire and ice, but in love.”

Tsukasa glared, his composure visibly cracking. “Mizuki.”

“What? I’m just saying!”

“Silence.”

Mizuki chuckled, spinning the dagger once more before tossing it lightly into the air and catching it. “Fine, fine. I’ll stop. But you’re definitely more fun when you’re flustered.”

The training continued for another hour, though Tsukasa found his concentration slipping more than usual. Mizuki’s teasing echoed in his mind, uncomfortably reminiscent of Rui’s antics—the way they both poked at his composure, laughed at his stoicism, and seemed entirely immune to his glares.

When the session ended, Akito jogged over, towel slung around his neck. “Everything good, Chief?”

Tsukasa gave a curt nod. “Fine.”

Mizuki grinned behind him. “He’s learning to make friends!”

“Wait, seriously?” Akito asked, blinking.

Tsukasa straightened his shoulders. “I’m interacting. That’s enough.”

Akito snorted. “Hey, I’ll take it. That’s more progress than last year.”

As the three of them began to pack up, Tsukasa caught himself… smiling. Just a little. Maybe Rui was right—maybe he did need to open up more.

But as he glanced at Mizuki, who was now teasing Akito about his uneven hairline, Tsukasa’s faint smile turned into a grimace.

One Rui in his life was already enough chaos.

A second one? That could only mean trouble.

Chapter Text

The afternoon light poured across the white marble courtyards of the Light Kingdom’s training grounds. The clang of metal echoed sharp and steady—discipline given sound. Tsukasa was where he always was: in the center of it all, the White Knights’ Chief Chevalier, form perfect, blade gleaming, expression unwavering.

Except lately, something was different.

When the drills ended and the knights clustered in groups—laughing, trading jabs, leaning on their swords like friends rather than soldiers—Tsukasa didn’t leave immediately anymore. He stayed. He stood a few paces off, as if testing the air, as if unsure how to breathe in this kind of camaraderie.

And today, he was trying.

Akito Shinonome had just finished sheathing his blade, his usual grin wide. “Not bad today, Chief! Almost made me break a sweat.”

Tsukasa gave a small, polite nod. “You’ve improved.”

“Man, don’t just say that so stiffly,” Akito said, laughing. “You’ll make me think I actually did something wrong.”

Tsukasa hesitated, then—awkwardly—added, “No. You did… well.”

Akito blinked, then smirked. “Wow, you’re learning how to compliment people! Rui teaching you that?”

Tsukasa’s ears turned faintly pink. “No.”

Nearby, Mizuki chuckled, tossing their sword and catching it effortlessly. “Oh, come on, Chief. You can’t fool us. You’ve been a lot chattier since you got hitched.”

Tsukasa frowned. “I’ve always spoken adequately.”

“You’ve spoken like a statue,” Mizuki corrected. “Now you’re, like, a statue that occasionally sighs and makes small talk. It’s character development.”

Akito laughed. “True! What happened? Rui rubbing off on you?”

“I—” Tsukasa began, but the words caught somewhere in his throat.

The two knights snickered and went back to sparring, but Tsukasa stood there a moment longer. He wasn’t angry—just… unsure. Maybe Rui had been right to tease him. Maybe he had grown distant from everyone. But that didn’t mean he had to admit it aloud.

Still, when Akito called out, “You joining us, Chief?” he found himself nodding. “Yes. One more round.”

Meanwhile, back at the cottage, Rui sat at the window, elbow propped on the sill, tapping his cheek with an absent finger. The garden stretched outside—wild, chaotic, much like its caretaker—but the house itself felt oddly empty.

Tsukasa was late. Again.

Rui wasn’t worried. Not exactly. But something about the quiet gnawed at him. The chevalier always returned at the same time, punctual as clockwork, habit-bound and precise. And yet for the past few days, the sun had dipped lower before he came home, dust on his boots, exhaustion in his eyes, and a faint—almost guilty—smile on his lips.

So Rui, naturally, had done what any devoted husband with an overactive imagination would do: he decided to investigate.

He threw on his usual coat and sauntered toward the castle grounds, humming lightly to himself. But by the time he reached the training fields, the humming stopped.

Because there, across the expanse of pale stone, he saw Tsukasa.

And the chevalier was laughing.

Not the quiet, polite kind of smile Rui had coaxed out of him before—this was different. A sharp exhale, a startled grin at something Akito said, shoulders unguarded for once. He was standing with Akito and Mizuki, sparring half-heartedly while Mizuki tossed teasing remarks his way, and the knights were smiling with him.

Rui stood perfectly still, watching.

He felt a tug deep in his chest—something sharp, soft, and unexpectedly painful.

Tsukasa was trying.

Not because of duty. Not because of command. Because of him.

Rui pressed a hand to his heart, where the ache deepened. He’d teased Tsukasa, mocked his solitude like it was a funny quirk, never realizing—

Never realizing the knight had taken those words to heart.

“Ah,” Rui whispered to himself, a faint smile tugging at his lips, though his eyes were dim. “You really do take everything too seriously, my chevalier.”

He should have turned around then. Should have left him to his moment.

But, of course, Rui Kamishiro was terrible at doing what he should.

The clang of the gate broke through the air.

Heads turned.

“What in the world—” Akito muttered, hand moving instinctively to his sword.

There, striding through the archway with a magician’s poise and a trail of petals following his boots, was Rui Kamishiro himself.

The sorcerer’s presence was impossible to mistake.

Half the knights tensed, and Akito took a defensive stance on instinct. “What the—why is he here?!”

Tsukasa’s head whipped around, eyes wide. “Rui—what are you—?”

“Visiting,” Rui said simply.

Akito’s stance didn’t falter. “You can’t just stroll into the castle like that! You’re from the Dark Kingdom!”

Rui raised an eyebrow, his voice quieter than usual. “Oh? Am I unwelcome?”

Tsukasa quickly stepped forward, hand raised. “Stand down. He’s not here to fight.”

Akito looked between them, uncertain, but obeyed. Mizuki, however, only leaned on their sword, eyeing Rui with curious amusement. “So this is the infamous sorcerer, huh? Honestly, I expected more evil schemes.”

Rui’s lips quirked faintly. “It’s early in the day. I try to limit my dramatics before noon.”

Tsukasa exhaled through his nose. “Why are you here?”

“I could ask you the same, my chevalier,” Rui said softly, his tone more serious than his usual teasing lilt. “You’ve been coming home later and later. I worried.”

“Worried?” Mizuki echoed, smirking. “Aw, that’s cute.”

“Don’t,” Tsukasa warned them under his breath.

Rui’s eyes flicked toward the two other knights. Akito’s stance was relaxed but wary; Mizuki’s grin was edged with mischief. Rui understood the dynamic immediately—these were the people Tsukasa was trying to know better.

And that was what hit him hardest.

He had been right.

Tsukasa hadn’t had friends. He’d been alone in his stoicism, in his duty, in that rigid shell Rui kept cracking with laughter and affection.

And now… he was trying. Because Rui had pushed him.

The sorcerer’s smile faded, replaced by a quiet expression of guilt. “I see.”

Tsukasa blinked. “Rui?”

“I was right, then,” Rui said softly. “You really didn’t have friends.”

Tsukasa froze, something defensive flickering in his eyes. “That’s not—”

Rui lifted a hand. “Don’t deny it. I teased you about it, didn’t I? And here you are, proving me wrong the only way you know how—by working yourself to exhaustion to do better.”

Tsukasa’s mouth opened, then closed again. The courtyard was quiet save for the sound of distant training.

Mizuki shifted awkwardly, exchanging a glance with Akito. “Uh, should we…?”

“No,” Rui said gently. “Stay. You’re part of this too.”

He stepped forward, the air humming faintly with his magic, though there was no threat in it—only a ripple of crimson light, soft and warm. He stopped in front of Tsukasa, eyes searching his husband’s face.

“I didn’t mean to make you feel like you were lacking,” Rui said, voice uncharacteristically even. “You’ve given your kingdom everything. You’ve given me more kindness than I thought I’d ever deserve. You don’t have to fix yourself just because I made a careless joke.”

Tsukasa looked away, his jaw tightening. “I wasn’t fixing myself. I simply realized I should… connect more. With my knights.”

“Because I said something.”

“Because you were right,” Tsukasa admitted quietly.

For a moment, the wind carried silence between them. Rui’s expression softened, and he reached out, brushing a gloved thumb along the scar on Tsukasa’s jaw. “You’re perfect as you are, you know that? I don’t need you to be anyone else. Least of all someone lonely trying to unlearn it overnight.”

Tsukasa blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity. “Rui…”

Akito coughed, shifting uncomfortably. “Uh. Should we—leave, or…?”

Mizuki, grinning, elbowed him lightly. “No way. This is better than half the romances in the royal library.”

“Shut up,” Tsukasa muttered under his breath.

Rui smiled faintly, the corners of his eyes softening. “You have good people around you, Tsukasa. Don’t be afraid to let them in. But don’t ever think that you need to change yourself to deserve their company—or mine.”

Tsukasa inhaled slowly, nodding once. “…Understood.”

Rui’s smile returned, small but genuine. “Good.” He leaned closer, whispering just loud enough for only Tsukasa to hear, “Still, I must admit—it’s endearing seeing you try to make friends. My little chevalier learning social skills at last.”

Tsukasa shot him a glare that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’re impossible.”

“Mm. And you love me for it.”

“Regrettably.”

Rui chuckled softly, the guilt in his chest easing slightly. He turned to the others, tone brightening again. “Well! I believe I’ve disrupted your training enough for one day. Carry on, brave knights. Try not to faint from witnessing affection.”

Akito groaned. “Too late.”

Mizuki laughed. “No, keep going. I’m taking notes!”

Tsukasa groaned quietly, but when Rui met his gaze, something unspoken passed between them—warmth, forgiveness, the quiet understanding of two people still learning how to belong.

As Rui turned to leave, Tsukasa’s hand brushed his briefly.

It wasn’t a plea or a command. Just a touch that said: thank you.

And Rui, for once, didn’t say anything clever back. He only smiled softly and walked away, the sound of his boots fading into the hum of the training grounds—leaving Tsukasa a little less alone than before.

Chapter Text

The sky outside the cottage bled into violet, the last remnants of sunlight stretching long shadows across the quiet home. The fire crackled in the hearth, spilling amber warmth over the walls, its gentle sound the only thing breaking the silence.

Tsukasa stepped through the doorway, closing it softly behind him. He had returned later than usual; his armor still carried the faint scent of steel and dust from the training field. Normally, Rui would greet him at the door—arms open, grin ready, some sarcastic remark at the tip of his tongue. But tonight, the cottage was hushed.

He set down his sword, unfastened his cloak, and looked around. It didn’t take long to find Rui.

The sorcerer sat in front of the fireplace, his purple hair catching the flickering light. His posture was loose, yet the slight curve in his back told Tsukasa something was weighing on him. His monocle glinted dully; he hadn’t even bothered to light the lanterns. The faint crimson glow of his magic—usually dancing playfully in the air—was absent.

Tsukasa’s brow furrowed. “…Rui?”

No response.

He approached slowly, boots clicking softly against the floor. The air felt heavy, not with tension but with something gentler—melancholy. When Tsukasa reached him, he rested a hand on Rui’s shoulder. “Don’t let it bother you,” he said quietly. “It’s… all right.”

Rui’s head tilted slightly, his expression unreadable. Then, a quiet scowl crossed his face. “All right? You’re telling me this is all right?” His tone wasn’t sharp, but it carried a raw honesty Tsukasa rarely heard from him.

Tsukasa blinked. “…You mean today?”

“I had no clue you didn’t have any friends,” Rui said, leaning back against the chair. His voice trembled between disbelief and guilt. “Not one. Not even from childhood.” He turned his gaze to the flames, the reflection of red flickering across his yellow eyes. “When was the last time you actually had a friend, Tsukasa?”

The chevalier hesitated. He wasn’t used to thinking about himself that way. Friendship wasn’t something he’d thought about in years—it wasn’t a word that belonged to knights, not when duty came first.

But Rui waited, silent and patient.

“…When I was fifteen,” Tsukasa said at last, his voice low.

Rui blinked, turning toward him. “Fifteen?”

Tsukasa nodded once, his eyes distant now, gaze fixed on the hearth as if the fire could show him the past. “Her name was Emu Otori. The princess of the Light Kingdom.”

Rui’s brows rose slightly. “A princess?”

“Yes.” Tsukasa’s tone softened with the faintest trace of warmth. “She was bright. Full of life. She had this… laugh that could fill the entire castle courtyard. Everyone said she wasn’t very ‘princess-like.’ She didn’t care for tea ceremonies or embroidery—she wanted to be an adventurer.”

Rui listened in silence, watching the firelight dance across Tsukasa’s features.

“I was training then,” Tsukasa continued quietly. “My father was the Chief Chevalier at the time. He often brought me to the castle to watch him train with the royal guards. The princess would sneak into the practice fields—no guards, no maids, just her, with that ridiculous pink dress and a wooden sword she’d stolen from the armory.”

Rui chuckled softly, picturing it. “I can almost see it.”

Tsukasa smiled faintly, the first sign of emotion breaking through his stoic mask. “She insisted I spar with her. I didn’t want to at first, but she kept pestering me until I agreed. She lost every match, of course. But she always got up again.”

He paused. His voice grew quieter. “After that, she’d come find me almost every day. We’d sneak into the castle gardens or the old watchtowers. She’d make up stories about running away, traveling the world, becoming a hero. She said I’d be her knight when she did. I told her I’d already sworn loyalty to the crown. She said, ‘Then I’ll make you my crown.’”

A soft laugh escaped him, fragile and fleeting.

Rui leaned forward, resting his chin in his hand. “She sounds like a handful.”

“She was,” Tsukasa admitted. “But she was… kind. She made everything feel less heavy. Back then, I didn’t know what the world expected of me. My father was strict, the kingdom was always at war, and everyone treated me as the heir to his duty. But she didn’t. To her, I wasn’t a knight. I was just Tsukasa.”

The fire crackled. Rui didn’t interrupt. He only watched.

“One day,” Tsukasa said softly, “my father died.” His voice didn’t waver, but the silence that followed was almost painful. “He died protecting the western wall. The king and queen… they mourned him, of course. But afterward, they decided to separate Emu and me. They said she was getting too reckless, too wild. That she needed to focus on becoming a proper princess.”

Rui’s expression softened, the usual mischief replaced by quiet empathy. “So they took her away from you.”

Tsukasa nodded. “They weren’t angry with me. They simply wanted to protect her. But I… never saw her again. Not even when I became Chief Chevalier. She stopped appearing, and I stopped asking. I did want to talk to her, of course, but I also knew i could not risk her getting in trouble. So, i let go.”

The chevalier leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his eyes reflecting the glow of the fire. “Sometimes, I still hear her laugh. When the wind passes through the training grounds, or when the bells in the castle ring at dusk. It sounds a little like her.”

Rui’s heart clenched. He’d seen Tsukasa cry before—just once, when Rui had nearly died—but this was different. This was quieter, the kind of pain that lived beneath the armor.

He reached out and touched Tsukasa’s hand gently. “You must have missed her terribly.”

Tsukasa was silent for a long moment. “…I did.”

Rui squeezed his hand. “And after that, you never tried to make new friends?”

“After that,” Tsukasa said, his voice flat but honest, “I stopped thinking I needed any.”

The words sank into the air like ash. Rui looked at him for a long time, then sighed softly, resting his head against Tsukasa’s shoulder. “You really are impossible.”

Tsukasa blinked. “What?”

“You take care of everyone else, and you forget that you’re allowed to be cared for,” Rui murmured. “No wonder I fell in love with you. You’re the loneliest person I’ve ever met.”

Tsukasa stiffened slightly, not used to such blunt tenderness. “That’s hardly something to fall in love with.”

Rui chuckled under his breath. “Maybe not. But you make loneliness look noble.”

The chevalier rolled his eyes, though his lips twitched faintly. “That makes no sense.”

“Neither does love.”

They sat in silence after that, the firelight painting their faces in gold and red. Rui’s guilt lingered, but it was softer now—no longer heavy with shame, but threaded with understanding.

He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “For what it’s worth, I think Emu would be proud of you. You became a hero after all. Just… not the kind she imagined.”

Tsukasa’s throat tightened slightly. “…You think so?”

“I know so,” Rui said. “And if she could see you now—living, fighting, loving—she’d probably call you her knight again.”

Tsukasa looked into the fire, the smallest smile breaking through. “Perhaps she would.”

Rui smiled too, the gentle kind he reserved only for him. Then he quietly slipped his arm around Tsukasa’s shoulders and leaned his head against the knight’s. “You’re not that lonely boy anymore, Tsukasa. You have me now. And I’m not going anywhere.”

Tsukasa didn’t reply. But after a moment, his hand came up, covering Rui’s where it rested against his shoulder—a silent answer, steady and sure.

The fire burned low into the night, and for the first time in years, Tsukasa spoke about his past without the ache of loss weighing him down.

He had been the knight who lost his friend. Now, he was the man who’d found love.

But little did Rui know, the desperation Tsukasa displayed when Rui was nearly banished, when he was nearly killed, that it all rooted from losing his loved ones when he was just fifteen.

Chapter Text

Rui had a plan. A reckless, hopelessly sentimental plan, but one that had taken root the moment Tsukasa had spoken her name by the fireplace. Emu Otori. The lost princess, the bright light of Tsukasa’s boyhood, his best friend. He hadn’t missed the way Tsukasa’s tone softened when he spoke of her, or how his eyes gleamed faintly with nostalgia, something Rui could never imitate. He told himself it was curiosity—wanting to meet the girl who had once held Tsukasa’s world together—but deep down, he knew better. It was jealousy, thinly veiled as thoughtfulness. So he called in a favor. He had “sources,” after all. A letter discreetly delivered, a meeting arranged in the gardens outside the castle where the White Knights often trained.

Tsukasa, of course, didn’t suspect anything. Rui had told him vaguely, “We’re going out tomorrow. Somewhere nice.” and when Tsukasa raised a brow and asked if it was another one of his schemes, Rui had only smiled innocently. “Perhaps. But it will make you happy.” That morning, Rui watched as Tsukasa adjusted his white cloak, curiosity faintly wrinkling his brow. The sight of that composed face, softened with curiosity, made Rui’s heart ache in an unfamiliar way.

When they reached the garden, the world felt dipped in sunlight. Flowers bloomed in every hue, and the air carried the scent of lavender and fresh water from the fountains. Standing near the marble archway, her bright pink hair cascading down her back, was a woman dressed in an elegant white gown. She turned when she heard their footsteps.

Tsukasa froze. Rui watched his breath catch. “E… Emu?” he said, his voice cracking just enough to make Rui’s chest twist.

The woman smiled, her eyes lighting up with a familiar sparkle. “UWAH?! Tsukasa-kun!!” She exclaimed, bright and melodic, the same kind of laugh that Rui imagined could wake sleeping birds. Before Tsukasa could react, Emu rushed toward him and threw her arms around him. “It’s been years! You look so serious now!”

Rui stepped back instinctively, his usual smirk flickering uncertainly as Tsukasa stiffened for only a moment before relaxing. “Princess Emu,” he murmured, though there was a tremor in his voice Rui had never heard before.

“Oh, none of that,” Emu said, pulling away to grin up at him. “You used to just call me Emu, remember?! Oh, Tsukasa-kun, I missed you so much!”

Tsukasa hesitated, then smiled—an open, unguarded smile, the kind Rui had never seen. Not the polite curve he gave to the knights, not the faint, restrained smirk he saved for Rui’s teasing. No, this was genuine—pure and almost boyish, like the fifteen-year-old he once was.

Rui’s chest tightened.

They began talking immediately. Emu asked question after question—about the White Knights, about Tsukasa’s role, about how he’d changed. Tsukasa’s voice grew lighter with every answer. He even laughed—a real laugh, not the rare ones Rui coaxed out of him through endless teasing, but a natural, effortless sound that filled the air.

Rui stood a few steps behind, watching. The flowers swayed around them, the world so bright it almost hurt his eyes. And still, Tsukasa kept smiling.

He should’ve been happy. This was what he’d wanted—to give Tsukasa something warm, something healing. To help him find a part of himself that had been buried under years of duty and loss. And yet, the sight of that smile—the way it wasn’t for him—stung in ways he hadn’t prepared for.

Emu tugged lightly at Tsukasa’s sleeve, showing him a blossom she’d picked. “Do you remember when we used to steal these from the gardens?”

Tsukasa chuckled softly, shaking his head. “You were the one stealing them. I was the one getting scolded for it.”

“Whaaat?! You loved it,” she said with mock offense. “You used to smile when you thought no one saw.”

Rui’s fingers twitched at his side. He wanted to interrupt, to insert himself into the memory somehow, but every word they spoke built a wall he couldn’t scale. The sunlight on Tsukasa’s face, the way he leaned forward, the faint warmth in his expression—it wasn’t the kind of look Tsukasa gave anyone anymore.

And suddenly Rui felt… old. Not by age, but by feeling. Like an outsider peering into a story that had been written long before he arrived.

When Tsukasa turned slightly, his expression softening with gratitude as he looked toward Rui, the sorcerer forced a smile—too wide, too bright, the kind that didn’t reach his eyes. “You…” Tsukasa began, but Rui quickly cut him off with a little bow. “Don’t mind me. I’ll let you two catch up. I wouldn’t want to intrude on royalty, after all.”

Emu laughed brightly. “You must be Rui Kamishiro, right? The sorcerer who made half the knights in the castle nervous? I’ve heard so many stories!! I wanna hear all about your adventures one day!”

“Oh, have you?” Rui said smoothly, his voice polite, his grin automatic. “All true, I assure you. Maybe I will talk about them, one day.”

She giggled again, oblivious to the way his tone had cooled. Tsukasa glanced at him briefly, brows knitting in faint confusion—he could sense something was off, but not quite name it.

They walked through the garden, the sunlight dancing over every petal, the conversation flowing with ease. Rui trailed a few steps behind, pretending to admire the flowers. Every time Emu laughed, every time Tsukasa’s expression softened, the quiet sting in his chest deepened.

He told himself it was ridiculous—he had no right to be jealous of a memory. Tsukasa’s past was his own, untouched by Rui’s chaos. But when Tsukasa bent down to pick up a small flower Emu dropped, his expression so tender it seemed to light the entire space, Rui’s hands clenched.

That smile had been his goal for months—to make Tsukasa happy, to make him free. But now that it was here, it wasn’t his doing. It belonged to someone else.

Rui turned away, his eyes darkening. The air around him pulsed faintly with crimson energy, his magic responding to the tension in his chest. He took a slow breath, forcing it to fade.

When Tsukasa finally approached him, face still warm from laughter, he asked softly, “Rui, are you all right?”

“Of course,” Rui said with a grin that didn’t quite hide the storm behind it. “I’m thrilled to see you so happy, Tsukasa-kun. You look almost unrecognizable. Radiant, even.”

Tsukasa frowned. “You sound sarcastic.”

“Me? Never.” Rui laughed faintly, brushing his hair behind his ear. “It’s good to see you smiling like that. Really.”

Tsukasa blinked, then smiled softly. “You made this happen, didn’t you?”

Rui’s throat tightened, but he kept smiling. “Maybe. I do enjoy a good reunion.”

When Emu rejoined them, holding two flowers she’d woven together into a loop, she handed them one each. “A gift,” she said cheerfully. “For friendship—and for the memories we still get to make. And maybe, hopefully, adventure!!”

Tsukasa accepted his with gratitude. Rui stared at his for a long moment before taking it with a small nod. “How poetic,” he murmured.

The afternoon waned into evening. When Emu finally said her farewells and made Tsukasa promise to visit again, Tsukasa watched her go with a smile so peaceful Rui couldn’t bring himself to interrupt. He only stood by, arms folded, gaze shadowed.

When Tsukasa finally turned to him, Rui’s expression was unreadable. “Thank you,” Tsukasa said quietly. “For finding her.”

Rui’s lips curved faintly. “Anything for my chevalier.” His voice was soft, but there was a weight beneath it Tsukasa didn’t catch.

That night, when they returned home, Tsukasa was still glowing from the joy of the reunion. Rui watched him by the fire, pretending to read, and thought bitterly that it was the first time Tsukasa hadn’t looked lonely—and the first time Rui didn’t feel needed.

Chapter Text

The morning light streamed softly through the cottage windows, painting the wooden floor in amber hues. The smell of butter and herbs filled the air as Tsukasa hummed faintly under his breath, flipping eggs onto a plate with his usual meticulous precision. The blue apron shimmered faintly under the sun—the apron, the one Rui had made for him with a laugh and a teasing remark about “fate and hot mouths.” It had become part of his morning ritual, a quiet thing that made him feel close to Rui even when the sorcerer was still buried in blankets.

But this morning, things felt different.

When he turned around, expecting to see Rui half-asleep at the table with his usual grin or a lazy comment about how “domestic” Tsukasa was being, he saw something else entirely. Rui was sitting there, fully awake, hands folded loosely in front of him, eyes unfocused. The faint glimmer in his monocle was dulled, and his smile—his eternal, mischievous smile—was nowhere to be found.

“Breakfast is ready,” Tsukasa announced softly, placing the plate before him with a hint of his usual flourish. “I made your favorite.”

Rui blinked slowly, as if coming back from somewhere far away. “Ah. You shouldn’t have gone through the trouble,” he murmured, voice subdued, almost detached.

Tsukasa froze. Rui never didn’t comment. He didn’t tease, didn’t joke, didn’t wave his hands to make some magical nonsense appear on the table for decoration. He just… sat there. Silent.

“You’re not eating,” Tsukasa said after a moment, trying to keep his voice steady.

“I’m not very hungry.”

The chevalier frowned faintly, uncertain what to do with his hands. “You never skip breakfast. You always say you can’t think on an empty stomach.”

Rui gave a short, humorless chuckle. “I have nothing to think about today.”

That shouldn’t have stung, but it did.

Tsukasa stood there for a moment, fingers tightening against his apron’s fabric. He wasn’t good with words, not when emotions tangled in his chest. The silence between them felt wrong—thick and heavy, like an invisible wall had formed overnight. Rui’s eyes were distant, like he was staring into a space Tsukasa couldn’t reach.

Tsukasa wanted to say something—to scold him, maybe, or at least break the tension with some clumsy remark. But his voice caught.

So instead, he tried the only thing he could think of. He sat down across from Rui, posture perfect as always, and lifted his teacup with measured calm. “You seem… troubled.”

Rui’s lips twitched faintly, but not in amusement. “Do I?”

“Yes,” Tsukasa said flatly. “You haven’t teased me once. I thought perhaps you were ill.”

Rui’s gaze lifted then, sharp as glass behind the monocle. “Oh? And would you care if I were?”

The question made Tsukasa pause. His instinctive answer—of course I would—stuck in his throat, tangled up in years of emotional discipline and self-control. His expression flickered just briefly, and that was all Rui needed.

“I see,” Rui said softly, setting down his fork untouched.

Tsukasa wanted to reach out, but his body refused to move. His thoughts ran in circles, frantic under the mask of calm. He realized, with a slow sinking dread, that maybe—just maybe—Rui was… jealous. That look yesterday, when Tsukasa had been talking with Emu… the silence that followed… it made sense now, didn’t it?

He hesitated, fingers curling around his cup, before saying carefully, “I was happy yesterday. Seeing Emu again after all those years…”

He didn’t get to finish. Rui moved, slow and deliberate, removing his monocle and setting it on the table with a soft clink. His eyes, unshielded now, glowed faintly under the morning light—sharp and cold, like shards of sapphire.

Tsukasa froze. Rui’s expression wasn’t playful; it was raw, unfiltered, his jealousy crackling faintly like stormlight.

“You were happy,” Rui repeated, voice low. “So happy.”

Tsukasa swallowed, unsure whether to feel nervous or embarrassed. “She was a friend,” he started, but Rui’s quiet intensity made the rest of his words die.

Rui leaned back, crossing his arms, the usual smirk absent. “Funny. I’ve known you for months, lived with you, loved you—and I’ve never seen you smile like that.”

Tsukasa’s mouth opened, then closed again. He had no defense for that.

Rui looked away, running a hand through his hair. “I’m not angry at you,” he muttered finally. “I just—” He hesitated, searching for words he didn’t often use. “You’re mine, Tsukasa. You chose me. You married me. And yet sometimes I wonder if… I’m just another piece of your duty. Another thing you endure with that damned stoicism of yours.”

The chevalier blinked, utterly thrown off. “Endure? Rui, I—”

Rui looked at him again, the storm in his eyes softening, but not gone. “You’re allowed to appreciate me, you know. You’re allowed to show it. It wouldn’t kill you.”

The directness of the statement hit Tsukasa harder than he expected. His heart stuttered, a faint flush creeping up his neck. “I—” He stopped, frustrated. His voice was calm, but his thoughts weren’t. How could he explain that he didn’t know how? That being vulnerable terrified him in ways even combat never did? That part of him was still that scared, lonely boy who’d lost everything once—and couldn’t bear to risk losing again?

So instead, he defaulted to silence, lowering his gaze to his tea.

Rui sighed quietly. “There it is,” he murmured, leaning back again. “The wall.”

Tsukasa looked up sharply.

“The one you build when you’re scared,” Rui continued. “You think if you let me too close, I’ll vanish, don’t you? Like your father. Like Emu. Like everyone else.”

Tsukasa’s fingers tightened on the teacup handle. He didn’t answer, but the flicker in his eyes was enough.

For a moment, neither spoke. The only sound was the quiet crackle of the fireplace.

Rui finally stood, his chair scraping softly against the wood. “You don’t have to say anything,” he said gently. “Just… don’t keep pretending I don’t see you, Tsukasa.”

And with that, he walked past him, disappearing into the study.

Tsukasa sat there for a long time, staring into his untouched tea. His reflection wavered in the amber surface—composed, steady, and utterly lost.

He’d faced monsters, darkness, and war without flinching. But this—this simple act of showing love, of letting someone love him—felt like a battle he didn’t know how to win.

He took a slow breath, staring toward the doorway Rui had gone through.

He needed to do something. Anything.

But how did one fight fear with tenderness? How did he tell Rui that his silence wasn’t distance—that it was the only way he knew to protect what mattered most?

Chapter Text

The day began quietly, far too quietly for Rui Kamishiro’s liking. Normally, Tsukasa Tenma’s mornings followed a predictable rhythm—he’d rise early, make breakfast, mutter about duty or training, and move through the day with that stoic determination Rui found infuriatingly endearing. But today, there was something… off about the knight.

Rui first noticed it when he stepped into the garden. The air was crisp, the early light brushing the petals of the newly bloomed tulips he’d been tending. He hummed faintly to himself—an old tune, something nostalgic—and bent down to trim the stems of a few delicate white flowers. But when he straightened up again, he felt it: that strange prickling sensation at the back of his neck. The kind one got when being watched.

He turned slightly.

There, standing a few feet away, was Tsukasa.

The knight was completely still, arms folded, head tilted just a little. His expression was unreadable—but his eyes were locked onto Rui, as though observing every move the sorcerer made.

Rui blinked. “...Tsukasa-kun?”

Tsukasa didn’t answer immediately. Instead, his gaze flicked toward the shears in Rui’s hand, then to the flowers, then back to Rui’s face. “You seem focused,” he said finally.

“Well, yes,” Rui replied slowly, a faint smile twitching at the corner of his lips. “That’s generally how one gardens.”

Tsukasa nodded seriously. “I see.”

And then he just… stood there.

Rui’s smile faltered. “You’re not training today?”

“I finished early.”

“I see. And you’ve chosen to… stand there and observe me like an oddly judgmental bird?”

Tsukasa’s head tilted slightly again. “I’m not judging you. I’m watching.”

“Oh, that’s so much better,” Rui said dryly, setting his shears down and straightening. “And why, pray tell, are you watching me?”

Tsukasa didn’t respond, which made Rui’s mind spin faster than his mouth could keep up with. He’s up to something. He’s definitely up to something. The chevalier wasn’t a talker, sure, but he wasn’t exactly the “silent stalker” type either.

Still, Tsukasa said nothing. He simply followed Rui around the garden, occasionally stopping to inspect a flower, his expression oddly thoughtful.

When Rui went inside, Tsukasa followed. When Rui went to tidy the shelves, Tsukasa was there, hovering nearby with that same calm, unreadable face.

By noon, Rui was starting to sweat.

Every time he glanced back, there were those eyes again—sharp blue, usually reserved for battle or discipline, now softened, curious. And, perhaps most dangerously… shining.

Is he—sparkling? Rui thought incredulously as he watched the knight lean slightly against the doorway, quietly observing him fold laundry of all things. Oh, this is dangerous. Adorable. But dangerous.

“...Tsukasa,” Rui finally said, turning to face him fully. “If this is your attempt to make me nervous, it’s working. Congratulations.”

“I’m not trying to make you nervous.”

“Then what are you trying to do? Because you’ve been following me since breakfast. I nearly bumped into you when I went to get the watering can.”

Tsukasa blinked once, tilting his head. “I wasn’t following you.”

Rui raised an eyebrow. “Really? Then what would you call this, my knight?”

The faintest trace of color appeared at the tips of Tsukasa’s ears. “...Accompanying.”

Rui’s lips twitched. “Ah, accompanying. That’s what we’re calling surveillance now.”

The knight’s expression remained calm, though his hands fidgeted slightly at his sides—a small, nearly imperceptible sign of discomfort. “I thought perhaps you might like the company.”

For a second, Rui almost melted on the spot. He wasn’t expecting that.

“I see,” he said, trying to sound casual. “And have you… enjoyed accompanying me while I water the same patch of flowers three times?”

Tsukasa looked as though he was debating whether to admit something. “You’re… very meticulous.”

Rui blinked, caught off guard. “Thank you…?”

“And graceful,” Tsukasa added, as though that were a simple statement of fact.

The sorcerer’s composure faltered slightly. “I—graceful?”

“Yes.” Tsukasa’s voice was calm, but his gaze had softened in a way Rui wasn’t prepared for. “You move with purpose. It’s... admirable.”

Rui’s brain completely froze. Did he just—compliment me? On my gardening?

“Tsukasa,” Rui began slowly, “have you been replaced by an impostor?”

“No,” Tsukasa said, frowning faintly. “I’m being sincere.”

“Ah,” Rui replied weakly, feeling his pulse skip.

By afternoon, the strange silent companionship continued. Rui tried to work in his little study, organizing old spellbooks and parchment scrolls, but every time he glanced up—there was Tsukasa again. Sitting quietly near the window, pretending to read, but clearly watching him.

It wasn’t malicious. It wasn’t teasing. It was just… earnest.

And that was infinitely worse.

Because Rui Kamishiro, sadistic sorcerer extraordinaire, did not know what to do with earnest. Earnest made his stomach flutter and his hands tremble and his heart—well, his heart was acting like an absolute fool.

By the time evening came and Tsukasa was still quietly following him around the living room, Rui finally snapped.

He turned sharply, cape swirling behind him, and fixed Tsukasa with a glare that lacked its usual bite. “All right, that’s enough! What in the blazes are you doing?”

Tsukasa blinked at him, caught like a child with his hand in a cookie jar. “...What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean,” Rui said, crossing his arms. “You’ve been shadowing me all day like a particularly polite ghost. And you keep looking at me!”

“I wasn’t—”

“Don’t you dare say you weren’t. I can feel it.” Rui took a step closer, peering up at him. “You’ve been staring at me like I’m some fascinating specimen. What’s gotten into you, Tsukasa Tenma?”

For a moment, Tsukasa didn’t answer. His eyes flicked away, and—oh heavens—his ears flushed red again.

“I…” He paused, then cleared his throat, trying to steady his voice. “I was admiring your routine.”

Rui blinked. “You were what?”

“Your routine,” Tsukasa repeated, a little more firmly, though his gaze remained stubbornly fixed on the floor. “You have… an admirable sense of order. Precision. And patience.”

There was a beat of silence. Rui just stood there, staring at him, mouth slightly open. His brain felt like it had short-circuited.

“You… admire me?” he managed finally, voice small, disbelieving.

Tsukasa hesitated, then nodded once, curtly. “Yes. You are… admirable.”

Rui opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again—only for his usual confident grin to waver. Something warm and electric surged in his chest, replacing the earlier gloom like sunlight chasing shadows.

“Oh,” he said faintly. Then, catching himself, he straightened with a flourish, trying to mask the fact that his heart was hammering. “W-well, of course! I am admirable, aren’t I? I suppose it was only a matter of time before you noticed!”

Tsukasa looked up, meeting his eyes, and Rui felt the tiniest, softest smile tug at the knight’s lips. “Yes,” he said simply, and for once it wasn’t teasing—it was real.

Rui turned away so fast it made his cape flutter. His face was burning. He pressed a hand to his mouth, trying to hide the grin that threatened to spill out.

He’d thought Tsukasa’s eyes were cold once, sharp and distant. But now, looking back on the way they’d glimmered with quiet awe—he realized something horrifying.

The stoic, noble knight looked cute.

Unbearably, disastrously cute.

And Rui Kamishiro was utterly, hopelessly doomed.

Chapter Text

For the rest of that evening, Rui could feel Tsukasa’s eyes on him. Even when he wasn’t looking, he could tell—there was a steady weight in the air, a quiet presence that followed his every step. When he sat down to read, he’d catch a faint glint of gold in his peripheral vision, the reflection of Tsukasa’s hair as the knight pretended to polish his sword but didn’t actually do anything with it. When Rui pretended to sort scrolls, Tsukasa was “dusting the shelf” beside him, which was strange considering Rui had just cleaned it earlier that morning.

It was endearing. It was flattering. It was absolutely terrifying.

So, by the next morning, Rui decided he had to test this new development. For science.

He began with something subtle—something harmless. He announced, “I’ll be in the garden!” with a lilting tone that suggested mischief, and strutted toward the door. He didn’t even have to turn around to know Tsukasa was already getting up to follow. The quiet thump of boots behind him confirmed it.

“Tsukasa,” Rui said without looking back, “are you coming to inspect my hydrangeas?”

“Yes,” came the dead-serious reply.

Rui stopped, turned, and blinked at the knight. “You’re serious.”

“Of course I am.”

Rui stared at him for a moment before muttering, “You know, I was beginning to think I should start charging for my company.”

Tsukasa simply crossed his arms and looked at the flowers. “They’ve grown well.”

“You’re deflecting,” Rui said flatly.

“They have grown well,” Tsukasa repeated.

Rui pinched the bridge of his nose. “Unbelievable.”

It continued like this for the rest of the day. Every time Rui moved, Tsukasa moved. He fetched a book from the shelf—Tsukasa “just happened” to need one too. He sat in the living room—Tsukasa sat directly across from him, polishing his armor. Rui began to suspect that if he decided to walk in circles around the cottage, Tsukasa would match his pace just to prove a point.

And then came evening.

Rui was tired. His nerves were frayed from the incessant awareness of the chevalier’s presence, and he wanted—no, needed—a hot bath to clear his head. He stood from his chair and stretched his arms above his head with a content sigh.

“I think I’ll take a bath,” he announced casually, watching Tsukasa from the corner of his eye.

The knight looked up immediately. “All right.”

Rui waited. Nothing. “...That’s it?”

“Yes.”

He blinked. Suspiciously calm. “You’re not going to ask me why?”

“Do I need to?”

“Well, no, but—”

Tsukasa stood. “I’ll join you.”

Rui froze. His thoughts flatlined.

“...I’m sorry?”

“I’ll join you,” Tsukasa repeated matter-of-factly, already moving toward the washroom.

Rui’s jaw dropped. “Wha—Wait, what do you mean join me?!”

Tsukasa didn’t even turn around. “You’ve been acting tense. Baths are good for relaxing. I’ll accompany you.”

Rui blinked once. Then twice. Then a third time, because surely his brain had short-circuited somewhere between tense and accompany. “A-Accompany?! Tsukasa Tenma, that’s not what—You can’t just—You—!”

But it was too late.

Tsukasa was already filling the tub with hot water, sleeves rolled up, utterly calm and completely unaware of the way Rui’s entire face had turned scarlet.

“Tsukasa-kun!” Rui sputtered, following him into the washroom. “Are you out of your mind?!”

Tsukasa looked over his shoulder, genuinely confused. “What’s the problem?”

“The problem,” Rui said, voice cracking somewhere between outrage and mortification, “is that I am not mentally equipped to handle your stoic sense of intimacy!”

Tsukasa frowned slightly, testing the water with his hand. “You seemed cold earlier. Warm water will help.”

Rui dragged his hands down his face. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it!”

“I don’t.”

“You—!” Rui took a deep breath, trying to calm the thundering in his chest. “Tsukasa Tenma, I swear you are either completely oblivious or you like watching me suffer.”

The knight looked up, expression still maddeningly calm. “You’re overreacting.”

“I am not!” Rui huffed, spinning around dramatically, his cape fluttering with the motion. “You can’t just casually invite yourself into my bath, you madman!”

Tsukasa’s voice softened slightly, as if trying to reason with a skittish animal. “You seemed upset yesterday. I thought spending time together might help.”

That made Rui freeze mid-rant. His heart skipped.

Tsukasa wasn’t teasing him. He wasn’t trying to provoke a reaction. He was genuinely trying to make him feel better. The thought alone was enough to melt his irritation into something warm and unbearably soft.

Still, he had to save face. He turned back toward the knight, feigning exasperation. “I appreciate your… intentions, my dear chevalier, but I hardly think this is necessary.”

Tsukasa tilted his head slightly, then, to Rui’s complete horror, began unfastening his gloves.

“W–Wait, what are you doing?!” Rui’s voice shot up an octave.

“You said you were taking a bath,” Tsukasa said simply, setting his gloves neatly on the counter. “And I said I’d join you.”

Rui gawked. “I—That—You can’t just—You’re actually serious?!”

Tsukasa looked up at him with the calmness of a man declaring the weather was fine. “I told you I was.”

“Tsukasa Tenma!” Rui sputtered, hands flailing wildly. “You’re a menace to propriety! A walking scandal waiting to happen! Do you have any idea what—”

The knight interrupted gently, voice even and patient. “Rui.”

Rui froze.

There was something in that tone—something steady, warm, and so quietly fond that it shut him up instantly. Tsukasa looked at him, eyes softer than he’d ever seen them, a tiny crease of worry between his brows.

“I just want you to relax,” he said simply. “If my presence bothers you, I’ll leave. But if it doesn’t…” His expression softened even more. “…then let’s stay together for a while.”

Rui’s heart practically melted on the spot.

For a moment, all he could do was stare, mouth opening and closing wordlessly. The knight before him was infuriatingly serious, his every word somehow equal parts exasperating and tender. Rui wanted to scold him. He really did. But instead, what came out was a strangled, “You really are impossible, you know that?”

Tsukasa allowed himself the faintest smirk. “So I’ve been told. But, we are married, we never bathed together. Since you were so jealous of Emu, I wanted to give you special treatment. I suppose.”

And before Rui could argue further, Tsukasa calmly stepped into the bath as if this were the most natural thing in the world. Rui, cheeks burning so hot they could rival the bathwater, eventually followed—mostly because he didn’t want to lose the argument.

When the water finally stilled around them, the air was quiet. The kind of quiet that carried a warmth deeper than steam.

Rui leaned back against the edge, sighing dramatically just to cover how fast his heart was beating. “You’re lucky I love you, or I’d have turned you into a frog by now.”

Tsukasa only chuckled softly, eyes closing as he relaxed beside him. “I’d still follow you around as a frog, Rui.”

That earned a soft laugh from Rui—one he tried to hide behind his hand.

“Hopeless,” he muttered.

Tsukasa smiled faintly. “But yours.”

And for once, Rui had no clever retort. Only the soft sound of water and the quiet thump of his own racing heart.

Chapter Text

The bathwater had settled into a quiet warmth, stilling in the silence that followed Tsukasa’s last soft words. The steam curled lazily around them, blurring the lanternlight until everything felt hazy and unreal—too gentle for knights and sorcerers who had once tried to kill each other.

Rui was trying—desperately—to maintain dignity. He kept his back straight, one arm propped elegantly on the edge of the tub, chin lifted as if he weren’t melting inside. But his flushed cheeks betrayed him, and Tsukasa’s calm presence was like a slow, steady heat that made Rui’s self-control drip away like wax.

Tsukasa had relaxed beside him, eyes closed, head tipped back. He looked peaceful in a way Rui rarely saw—unguarded, soft. Rui shouldn’t stare. Truly, he shouldn’t. But he did. He marveled at the strong lines of Tsukasa’s jaw, the droplets sliding down his collarbone, the faint color in his usually pale cheeks.

He felt something swell painfully in his chest.

And before he could stop himself—words bubbled out.

“Tsukasa-kun…”

The knight opened an eye, humming low in acknowledgment.

Rui took a breath. A steady one. Then another. Then—

“I felt jealous.”

Tsukasa blinked once. “…Jealous?”

Rui swallowed, eyes fixed on the rippling water. “Of Princess Emu.”

Tsukasa straightened slightly, confused. “Why?”

Rui kept staring at the water as if it could hide him. His voice came out softer than usual—no theatrics, no showmanship, no mischievous lilt. Just Rui. “Because… all my life, nobody ever needed me. They feared me. Wanted me dead. Saw me as a monster or a weapon.” His fingers curled loosely around his own arm. “When you smiled at her—so easily, without any restraint—I realized it was the kind of smile I’ve… never received from anyone. Not once.”

Tsukasa’s breath hitched.

Rui continued, voice trembling just a touch. “You—you’re the first person who ever made me feel needed. Wanted. Like I had a place in someone’s life. And when I saw you smile like that for her, I… felt like I wasn’t needed anymore. Like I’d imagined everything.”

The admission left him exposed—unmasked in a way he had never let himself be.

Tsukasa didn’t hesitate. He quietly, naturally slid closer in the warm water until their shoulders touched, then leaned—leaned—gently against Rui’s side.

Rui nearly shot out of the tub like a startled cat. “T-Tsukasa?!”

“Quiet,” Tsukasa murmured, shutting his eyes as he rested his weight against him, fully unbothered by their closeness. “I’m trying to… think.”

Rui’s brain stopped functioning. His face burned so hot the steam seemed cool by comparison. Curse the knight. Curse him for being so effortlessly intimate.

Tsukasa continued, voice low. “I didn’t smile like that because she made me happier than you. I smiled because…” He paused, breath unsteady. “I’ve known Emu since childhood. She saw me before I ever became a knight. Before I learned to be stoic. She remembers the loud, reckless, emotional boy I used to be. She never expected me to be anything else.”

Rui’s eyes softened.

Tsukasa’s tone grew quieter. “I lost the ability to open up around others when I became a chevalier. I had to be disciplined. Controlled. Reliable. Showing too much emotion wasn’t… permitted.”

Rui swallowed hard.

“I’ve forgotten how to express things,” Tsukasa admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “How to laugh naturally. How to tell people how I feel. Even when I want to, I freeze. It’s like my body won’t let me.”

Rui turned slightly, watching him with a tenderness so deep he could hardly breathe.

Tsukasa’s eyes opened halfway, glancing up at him. “Around Emu… I didn’t think. It just happened. She never saw the knight. Only the boy.”

Rui’s chest ached. He felt the sting of guilt settle in his stomach—guilt that he had teased Tsukasa relentlessly about blushing, about emotions, about having no friends…
Teasing had always been Rui’s way of flirting, of showing care. But Tsukasa—Tsukasa took things to heart more than he let on.

So Rui made a quiet vow in the depths of his heart: I will make him comfortable. I will make him feel safe. I will not tease him until he breaks. I will not let him hide from me.

He reached out, gently brushing Tsukasa’s bangs aside.

“Do you want to tell me about your childhood?” Rui asked softly. “What it was like for you… before all of this?”

Tsukasa stared at him with wide, golden eyes—open, vulnerable, searching. Then, to Rui’s surprise, the knight spoke quietly:

“…Can I have a hug first?”

Rui blinked. “A… what now?”

Tsukasa shifted closer, voice barely audible. “A hug. Before I tell you. I think it would help.”

The request pierced Rui straight through the heart.

Without hesitation—though his face was burning like fire—Rui wrapped his arms around Tsukasa’s shoulders, drawing him close. Tsukasa leaned into him, resting his forehead against Rui’s collarbone, damp hair warm against his skin.

Rui held him tighter.

Then Tsukasa whispered, trembling just slightly—

“I’ll tell you everything… but only if you promise not to let go.”

Rui closed his eyes, wondering what could be so bad that the knight would need a hug.

And he held him as if he never would let him go.

Chapter Text

Rui held him.

Held him as if the warm, quiet air of the bath could shield Tsukasa from every memory that threatened to drag him under. The knight didn’t speak at first—he simply breathed, slow and controlled, as if preparing himself the same way he would before stepping into battle.

Rui kept his arms firm around him, one hand rubbing slow, calming circles between Tsukasa’s shoulder blades. He didn’t rush him. Didn’t push. He just waited, feeling the steady thrum of Tsukasa’s heartbeat against his chest.

Finally, Tsukasa inhaled deeply. His fingers curled into Rui’s skin—lightly, like an anchor.

“…My parents weren’t close,” he began quietly.

Rui stayed still, listening.

“My father was chief chevalier. Always gone. Always working. I barely saw him. My mother stayed home… but she wasn’t happy.”

Tsukasa’s voice was flat at first—habit, Rui realized. He was used to burying emotion behind monotone. But under the warm water, held in Rui’s arms, those walls had cracks.

“Growing up, I thought she simply preferred quiet. But the truth was… she didn’t love my father. She hadn’t in years.”

Rui’s arms tightened instinctively.

Tsukasa’s breath wavered. “I have a younger sister. Saki.”

That surprised Rui—he had never heard her name before.

“She was sweet. Gentle. Always sick. Mother hovered over her constantly, but she kept Saki away from me. Said I was too rough. Too loud. Too much like him.”

Him.
The father Tsukasa idolized.

Tsukasa swallowed. “I thought she meant well. That she was just protecting Saki. But… when I was fifteen, I learned the truth.”

Rui felt Tsukasa’s grip tremble. He shifted, gently guiding Tsukasa so the knight could rest more fully against him. Tsukasa didn’t resist—his forehead pressed into Rui’s shoulder, his voice muffled but steadying as he continued.

“My mother… had an affair. With a nobleman from the Dark Kingdom.”

Rui stiffened, breath catching. But he didn’t interrupt.

“She wanted my father dead. Told her lover to kill him.”

Tsukasa’s voice cracked just barely, like a tiny fracture in stone.

“He succeeded.”

Rui felt his stomach drop.

“My father died on duty. They told me it was an accident. But I overheard the truth when Mother fled with Saki to the Dark Kingdom. She didn’t even say goodbye.”

The bathwater rippled as Tsukasa exhaled shakily.

“It felt like my whole world collapsed in a day. Father dead. Mother gone. Sister taken. And I…” His voice grew smaller, heartbreaking in its honesty. “I thought it was my fault. I thought maybe if I’d been better, quieter, more obedient, she wouldn’t have left.”

Rui’s hands clenched gently into Tsukasa’s back, steadying him. “Tsukasa…”

But the knight continued, needing to let it all out.

“I wandered for hours after they left. I didn’t know what to do. I ended up near the town orphanage. An old man found me.” Tsukasa’s lips trembled with a faint, sad smile. “He was kind. Gave me a bed. Food. And when I got angry… he gave me a wooden sword and told me to let it out.”

Rui imagined a fifteen-year-old Tsukasa—angry, heartbroken, confused—swinging a wooden sword with everything inside him. It hurt. It physically hurt, imagining that loneliness.

“That’s how I started training. I didn’t know what else to do. I wanted to make my father proud. Wanted to become a chevalier like he was.”

He took a shaky breath.

“That same time… the king and queen forbade Emu from seeing me. Said it wasn’t her fault, but I had too much grief, too much anger. They didn’t want her involved.”

Rui’s chest ached.

“So I lost her too.” Tsukasa’s voice faded to a whisper. “I thought… maybe I should just close off everything. If I didn’t feel, nothing could hurt.”

Water dripped softly from his hair as his head leaned more heavily into Rui’s shoulder—exhausted, vulnerable, utterly open.

“That’s why I became like this,” Tsukasa whispered. “Stoic. Focused. Dedicated. I threw myself into becoming chief chevalier… because if I did that, maybe everything I lost would mean something.”

Rui didn’t breathe for several seconds.
He simply held him.

The weight of the story—of Tsukasa’s loneliness—settled deep in Rui’s heart, deeper than anything had before.

Finally, Rui asked softly, almost afraid of the answer:

“…Have you ever met Saki again?”

Tsukasa shook his head against Rui’s shoulder, movements small and tired. “No. I don’t know if she’s even alive.” His voice fell to a fragile murmur. “But I hope… one day… I can find her.”

Rui shut his eyes.
His arms wrapped around Tsukasa more tightly, protectively, possessively but tenderly—like he was shielding something precious.

“Tsukasa…” he whispered, voice trembling with emotion he rarely allowed himself to feel, “you deserved better than that. So much better.”

Tsukasa didn’t answer.
Instead, he simply leaned further into him, pressing closer, seeking warmth and comfort Rui had never imagined Tsukasa would ever reach for on his own.

And Rui held him—kept him close—because now more than ever, he understood:
Tsukasa’s heart had always been bruised, always guarded.
And yet he had given it to Rui anyway.

Rui kissed the top of his damp blond head.

“I promise I won’t leave you,” he whispered fiercely. “Not now. Not ever.”

Chapter Text

That night, after the bath, after the vulnerability, after the confessions that had left both their hearts tender and open, the cottage felt unusually quiet. They changed into sleep clothes with the soft rustle of fabric and the faint crackle of the fireplace. Tsukasa kept glancing at Rui—small, fleeting looks, like he was thinking too hard about something.

When they finally slipped under the blankets, Tsukasa hesitated only a moment before moving in closer. Much closer than he ever had. He shifted until his head rested against Rui’s chest, one arm curling loosely around Rui’s waist, as if testing whether he was allowed to want this openly.

Rui blinked, stunned. “…You’re awfully close tonight,” he murmured, trying for playful but coming out soft, almost breathless. “Why the sudden clinginess?”

Tsukasa didn’t look up. His voice was quiet, but steady. “I don’t want to pretend I don’t want to hold you anymore.”

The words hit Rui harder than any spell ever could. His heart skipped, then rushed, then tangled itself into knots. Tsukasa—stoic, disciplined, always composed Tsukasa—had wanted this all along? Wanted to hold him? To be close like this? And had restrained himself because… because he thought he shouldn’t?

Rui swallowed hard and wrapped both arms around Tsukasa immediately, pulling him fully into his chest. Tsukasa melted into it with a soft, barely audible exhale. It was the kind of sound that made Rui’s throat tighten with warmth.

“You’re cold,” Rui muttered, already weaving a gentle thread of magic between his fingers. He brushed his hand along Tsukasa’s back; where his palm passed, warmth bloomed like soft sunlight. Tsukasa let out a small breath of relief, nestling closer, face tucked into Rui’s neck.

The sorcerer felt his ears heat. Tsukasa had never held him like this. Never allowed himself to be soft like this. Rui, for once, didn’t tease or make a dramatic comment. He simply shifted to fit Tsukasa better against him, letting the knight drape himself however he wanted.

Tsukasa’s fingers curled into Rui’s shirt. “…Your magic feels warm,” he murmured, voice muffled and drowsy. “Comforting.”

Rui smiled into Tsukasa’s hair. “Good. It’s supposed to. I only use my magic for you, now.”

A quiet hum rumbled in Tsukasa’s chest—content, trusting, almost childlike in its simplicity. Rui tightened his hold instinctively, protective in a way he rarely admitted to himself. The firelight painted them both in soft gold as Tsukasa relaxed completely, breathing slow and steady against Rui’s collarbone.

For a while, neither of them spoke. The silence wasn’t awkward—it was full, warm, alive.

Eventually, Rui whispered, “Tsukasa?”

“…Mm?”

“If you want this kind of closeness… you don’t need a reason. You don’t have to hide it. Not from me.”

Tsukasa shifted just enough to nuzzle his forehead against Rui’s jaw, a gesture so small yet so intimate it nearly unraveled the sorcerer entirely. “Then… I’ll stay close,” he said softly. “As long as you’ll let me. Because, Rui, I need you, even if I don’t show it.”

Rui tightened his arms until Tsukasa was completely enveloped. “I see, then, let us stay together like this and grow better. Together, not alone.”

Tsukasa’s lips curved into the faintest, sleep-heavy smile, and he finally drifted off—warm, safe, and held. Rui stayed awake a little longer, listening to the soft rhythm of Tsukasa’s breathing, feeling the steady weight of him resting so trustingly against his body.

He pressed a quiet kiss to Tsukasa’s temple.

“You don’t have to pretend anymore,” he whispered. “I’ll make sure you never have to.”

Chapter Text

The morning sunlight spilled softly through the cottage windows, warming the wooden floors and brushing over Tsukasa as he moved around the kitchen. He tied the familiar apron around his waist—the apron—Rui’s magically conjured, terribly embarrassing, deeply cherished “KISS THE COOK” apron. It fluttered dramatically every time he turned, even though Tsukasa suspected Rui enchanted it to do that on purpose.

Rui lounged at the table, chin in hand, watching Tsukasa with the most self-satisfied grin in existence.
“My, my,” he sang sweetly, “isn’t this a lovely morning~? The birds are singing, the sun is shining, and my spouse is wearing the world’s most kissable apron…” He leaned forward. “Tsukasa-kun, don’t you think we should—oh, I don’t know—celebrate such a morning with a kiss?”

Tsukasa didn’t even turn around. “We are not kissing before I finish breakfast.”

“Oh? So after breakfast then?”

Tsukasa paused, spatula in hand. “…No.”

“So during breakfast?”

“NO.”

Rui only smirked wider. “You’ll fold eventually~”

Tsukasa finished setting the plates on the table with an exasperated sigh, sat down, and tried his hardest to pretend he wasn’t blushing. They ate like this most mornings—Rui teasing, Tsukasa attempting stoicism—and somehow it felt like the most natural rhythm in the world.

When they finished, Tsukasa stood and wiped his hands on the apron. “I have to go train today. I’ll be back around dinner.”

“Oh? Training, hm?” Rui’s eyes gleamed mischievously. “Then allow me to send you off with something appropriate for a brave knight.”

He snapped his fingers.

A burst of pink light shimmered in the air, swirling with tiny sparks before forming into a large bouquet—fresh, vibrant, almost dazzling—filled with flowers Tsukasa didn’t even know existed. Blues, pinks, whites, violets, and several swirled patterns that absolutely had to be magical creations.

Rui held it out with a flourish. “For you! May these blossoms reflect your radiant, knightly beauty~”

Tsukasa froze, face instantly blossoming with heat. “R–Rui! You—!!”
He clutched the bouquet like it might explode, darted around the kitchen for a vase, filled it with water, and shoved the flowers inside like he was afraid Rui would comment again.

Rui still commented. “Aww, Tsukasa-kun is flustered again—adorable.”

Tsukasa marched over and, trying to stop his heart from exploding, quickly pressed a kiss to Rui’s cheek. “I’ll be back for dinner,” he murmured, voice wavering despite his best efforts at composure.

Rui touched his cheek dramatically. “Ahh… you kiss me and then run off to battle. How cruel, my knight.”

Tsukasa didn’t answer—he fled, as usual.

Rui watched him from the doorway until he disappeared down the road. The playful smile faded. His expression grew sharp, serious.

He stepped inside, grabbed his cloak, and left the cottage.

He had an errand today—one Tsukasa could never know about yet.

Last night, after Tsukasa fell asleep against him, Rui had written a letter. Now, he walked toward the place where he would meet the person he sent it to.

Nene Kusanagi was waiting behind a forgotten stone wall on the outskirts of the forest, hood pulled low. When she spotted Rui, she waved him over.

“So,” she said, voice low but curious, “you actually want my help finding someone? You? Rui Kamishiro?”

Rui didn’t smile. That alone made Nene blink in surprise.

“It’s serious, then,” she murmured.

Rui nodded once. “Tsukasa’s sister. Saki. He doesn’t know if she’s alive. He hasn’t seen her since their mother fled with that… nobleman.” His jaw tightened. “If she’s in the Dark Kingdom, I need to confirm it.”

Nene nodded thoughtfully. “I can check the records. Ask around. My father… keeps track of everyone who enters or leaves.”

Rui looked her dead in the eyes. “If you find anything—anything at all—send word immediately.”

She smirked lightly, crossing her arms. “You care about him that much?”

Rui didn’t even pretend to deflect this time. “…Yes.”

The answer surprised them both.

Nene’s expression softened slightly. “I’ll do what I can. Go home before Lover Boy comes back and panics.”

Rui nodded and disappeared into the trees.

When Tsukasa returned that afternoon, the sun had dipped enough to cast long golden rays across the garden. He expected Rui inside—maybe waiting at the table, or making tea, or plotting something ridiculous.

Instead, he found Rui outside, standing motionless among the flowers, staring at something only he seemed to see. His expression was unreadable, almost distant.

Tsukasa tilted his head.

Rui didn’t notice him.

Which meant Tsukasa had an opportunity.

A rare, precious opportunity.

Tsukasa inhaled silently, stepped forward on light feet, and—

He crouched behind the garden bush, preparing to surprise his husband.

Tsukasa crouched lower behind the hydrangea bush, heart pounding like he was preparing for an ambush instead of surprising his spouse. Rui was still lost in thought, fingers brushing absentmindedly over a white petal, his expression soft in a way Tsukasa couldn’t quite decipher. It wasn’t sad—not exactly—but contemplative, almost… heavy.

Tsukasa narrowed his eyes.

This was the perfect time for a surprise attack.

He shuffled carefully to the side, avoiding the dry leaves that would betray him. His training paid off—silent, swift, and focused. He circled behind Rui, sizing the angle, calculating the distance, and—

Three…

Two…

One—

“Got you—!”

Tsukasa lunged out of hiding, arms reaching to wrap around Rui’s waist from behind in a triumphant sneak-hug.

But Rui—

Moved.

Without even looking, Rui sidestepped and turned, lifting his hand.

Tsukasa collided directly with Rui’s chest instead of his back, arms still mid-reach, eyes wide in mortified shock as Rui blinked at him.

“Oh?” Rui purred slowly, lips curving. “My, my… was my dear knight attempting to ambush me?”

Tsukasa froze.

Absolutely froze.

His face flushed violently crimson. “NO— I— THAT WAS— YOU—” He flailed, hands now awkwardly gripping Rui’s sleeves, looking like an embarrassed cat caught mid-pounce.

Rui raised a hand to his mouth, clearly savoring every second. “Tsukasa-kun… were you trying to surprise me~?”

Tsukasa wished for death.

Or invisibility.

Or both.

He spun around, intending to flee back behind the bush and pretend this never happened, but Rui caught his wrist gently.

“Don’t run,” he said softly.

And Tsukasa stopped.

Rui tugged him back around and Tsukasa found himself standing far too close—close enough to see the faint shimmer of magic dust still clinging to Rui’s eyelashes. Rui studied him quietly, smile fading into something softer.

“You were trying to cheer me up… weren’t you?” Rui asked.

Tsukasa stiffened, his flush spreading to the tips of his ears. “…I wasn’t… trying anything.”

“I see,” Rui replied, stepping closer. “Then you just happen to sneak around bushes and attempt surprise hugs for no reason at all?”

Tsukasa swallowed. “…Maybe.”

Rui’s chest fluttered, just slightly. It wasn’t often Tsukasa did something like this—initiated affection, tried to reach out first. It was clumsy and awkward and endearing in a way that hit Rui deeper than he’d admit.

Rui slowly lifted his hand and brushed Tsukasa’s fringe out of his face.

“You’re terrible at lying,” Rui murmured.

Tsukasa’s gaze dropped. “…Well… you looked upset.”

“And you chose… this as your method of comforting me?”

Tsukasa’s voice shrank. “Y—you like when I hug you…”

Rui’s heart nearly stopped.

He stared at Tsukasa.

Tsukasa stared at the ground.

Then—slowly—Rui cupped Tsukasa’s face with both hands, lifting it gently so they met eye to eye.

“I do,” Rui whispered. “Very much.”

Tsukasa’s breath hitched.

And Rui leaned in—not for a kiss, not for teasing, but to rest his forehead against Tsukasa’s.

The garden was quiet except for the faint rustle of flowers.

“…Tsukasa,” Rui said softly, “I wasn’t avoiding you. I just… had a lot on my mind.”

“About what?” Tsukasa’s voice was small, uncertain, as if afraid of the answer.

Rui hesitated.

He couldn’t tell Tsukasa about Saki yet. Not before he knew more.

So instead, Rui wrapped an arm around Tsukasa’s waist and pulled him close. “About us.”

Tsukasa stiffened, then slowly melted into the embrace, hands settling awkwardly but willingly against Rui’s chest.

Rui continued, voice low. “I sometimes forget… you’re still learning how to… express affection. And I—I shouldn’t take that for granted.”

Tsukasa blinked up at him. “I’m… not good at it. But I’m trying.”

“I know,” Rui whispered. “I noticed.”

Tsukasa’s eyes widened.

It was rare for Rui to be this gentle, this quiet. It made Tsukasa’s heart thump unevenly.

Rui tugged him closer again, hugging him properly this time. Tsukasa made a tiny, involuntary sound—half surprise, half contentment—and Rui smiled into Tsukasa’s shoulder.

Then Tsukasa gathered what courage he had left and murmured, “I… wanted to surprise you because… I want you to smile again.”

Rui froze.

Then tightened his hold.

“…You’re going to kill me one day, Tsukasa-kun,” Rui whispered dramatically. “With affection.”

Tsukasa snorted quietly. “You deserve it.”

“Oh? A bold statement.” Rui pulled back slightly, eyes gleaming with warmth. “Do I get a reward for catching you mid-ambush?”

Tsukasa frowned. “No.”

“A kiss?” Rui pressed, leaning closer.

“No.”

“A hug?”

“You’re already hugging me.”

“Another hug?”

Tsukasa groaned. “Rui—”

Rui grinned. “Ah. He said my name like he loves me.”

Tsukasa blushed so violently he considered throwing himself back into the hydrangea bush.

They stood like that until the sun dipped behind the treetops, the air warm and still, their foreheads resting together.

Tsukasa finally murmured, “…Let’s go inside. I want… to spend the evening with you.”

Rui’s expression softened. “Lead the way, my knight.”

Tsukasa didn’t let go of Rui’s hand as they walked back to the cottage.

And Rui didn’t stop smiling the entire time.

Chapter Text

The evening began quietly—almost strangely so. Tsukasa and Rui tended to fill any shared space with some kind of chaos or teasing or dramatic declarations, but tonight…

Tonight felt warm. Soft. Familiar in a way that neither had quite experienced before.

Tsukasa kept Rui’s hand in his all the way to the cottage door.

When they stepped inside, he didn’t let go.

Not even when he took off his boots.

Not even when Rui raised a brow in amusement.

Not even when Rui whispered dramatically, “My, my… such boldness from my stoic husband—”

Tsukasa gave his hand a small squeeze in warning.

Rui shut up immediately.

They walked to the sitting area together, still hand-in-hand, and Tsukasa went to the fireplace to light up the wood. He used a technique Rui liked to use, when he would be told by Tsukasa that he should not use magic for everything.

Rui noticed it immediately.

But for once, he didn’t tease.

Instead, Rui went to fetch blankets while Tsukasa set two teacups and a teapot on the small table. When Rui returned, he threw the blanket over both of them, then sat close enough that the sides of their legs were touching.

Normally, Rui would have draped himself over Tsukasa like an overly affectionate cat.

But tonight… he stayed close, yet still.

It was Tsukasa who leaned in first.

He rested his head on Rui’s shoulder so naturally that Rui momentarily forgot how to breathe. Rui adjusted the blanket around them both, his hand hovering hesitantly over Tsukasa’s arm.

“…You can hold me, if you want, that is,” Tsukasa murmured, barely audible.

Rui did not hesitate again.

He slipped his arm around Tsukasa’s waist, pulling him closer with a tenderness he usually disguised behind theatrics. Tsukasa exhaled softly, settling against him with surprising trust.

The crackling of the fireplace filled the silence in the most comforting way.

After several minutes, Rui spoke quietly.

“Tsukasa-kun… I’ve never seen you like this.”

Tsukasa shifted a little but didn’t move away. “…Like what?”

“So… open. This is new for you.”

A small nod. “…But it feels right.”

Rui’s chest tightened, his breath catching for a moment.

Tsukasa rarely expressed things so straightforwardly—especially emotional truths. So Rui didn’t respond with teasing, nor with flowery dramatics.

He simply rested his cheek on top of Tsukasa’s head.

“Thank you,” Rui murmured.

Tsukasa stiffened. “Why are you thanking me?”

“For letting me in.”

Tsukasa swallowed. “…I’m trying.”

“You’re doing wonderfully.”

The room went quiet again. Tsukasa’s eyes drifted half-shut, but he remained awake, clearly thinking about something.

Eventually, he whispered, “Rui.”

“Yes?” Rui replied, voice soft.

“…I want to ask something.”

Rui straightened slightly, tightening his hold. “Go ahead, Tsukasa-kun.”

Tsukasa hesitated for several seconds before finally speaking.

“…Why does being close to you make me feel… safe?”

Rui’s breath faltered.

He hadn’t expected that.

Tsukasa rarely asked questions about emotions—not his own, not Rui’s. He wasn’t the type to dwell on the unexplained parts of affection. But now he sat there, curled against Rui like he belonged in that exact spot, asking something so vulnerably human that it made Rui’s heart ache.

Slowly, Rui lifted his hand and brushed his fingers through Tsukasa’s bangs.

“Because,” Rui whispered, “you finally let yourself feel it.”

Tsukasa slowly lifted his head to meet Rui’s eyes. His expression wasn’t confused—it was searching.

Rui continued, “You’ve spent so long holding everything in. So long pushing people away, guarding yourself like you were preparing for the next heartbreak… But now you’re letting someone touch those parts of you. And when it’s someone you love—when it’s someone who loves you—of course it feels safe.”

Tsukasa stared at him, wide-eyed and stunned.

Rui’s thumb brushed Tsukasa’s cheek. “You don’t have to understand all of it right away. Just keep leaning on me… and you’ll figure it out.”

Tsukasa’s lips parted slowly.

“…I love you,” he whispered.

The softness of his voice startled even him.

Rui froze completely. His breath hitched, eyes widening, face flushing with a warmth he hadn’t expected to feel so intensely again so soon.

“H-how dare you say it like that,” Rui murmured in disbelief. “So casually. So… softly.”

Tsukasa’s cheeks tinted pink, but he didn’t back down. He shifted closer and rested his forehead against Rui’s collarbone.

“I’m practicing,” Tsukasa mumbled.

Rui let out a shaky laugh, then wrapped both arms around him tightly, pulling Tsukasa fully into his lap.

Tsukasa jolted, startled—but didn’t resist. Instead, he let Rui cradle him, burying his face into Rui’s neck.

Rui pressed a lingering kiss to Tsukasa’s temple.

“I love you too,” he whispered. “So much it hurts.”

Tsukasa’s breath stuttered.

He wrapped his arms around Rui in return—awkwardly, tightly, as if afraid Rui would vanish if he didn’t hold on.

They stayed like that for a long time, letting the fire warm the room and the closeness warm their hearts. Tsukasa gradually relaxed until he was comfortably curled against Rui, and Rui’s fingers traced idle shapes on Tsukasa’s back.

Eventually, Tsukasa murmured, sounding almost sleepy, “…Can we stay like this?”

Rui smiled.

“Yes, please,” he answered.

And that evening, they did.

Chapter Text

The morning sun filtered through the curtains in pale gold, the kind of gentle light that made the cottage feel warmer than usual. Tsukasa rose early as he always did—quiet, disciplined, slipping out of Rui’s loose embrace with surprising care. Rui mumbled something incomprehensible in his sleep when Tsukasa shifted, reaching blindly for him, and Tsukasa paused long enough to press a soft kiss to Rui’s forehead.

Then he left to train.

Rui didn’t wake until he heard the front door close. He sat up slowly, hair tousled, eyes half-open behind his monocle. The cottage felt too empty without Tsukasa in it—too quiet, too still. Rui stretched, yawned dramatically, and wandered toward the kitchen to make tea.

That was when he saw it.

A sealed letter resting neatly on the counter, placed with a precision only one person would bother with.

Tsukasa had brought in the morning mail before leaving.

Rui blinked at the envelope suspiciously, then recognized the delicate handwriting on the front.

Nene.

Immediately, his drowsiness evaporated. Rui grabbed the letter, broke the seal with trembling fingers, and unfolded the paper.

The handwriting was unmistakably hers—soft, neat, careful.

Dear Rui,
I’ve looked into what you asked.
I have news.

Rui’s breath stilled.

He devoured the rest of the letter in seconds.

There are rumors in the inner circles of the Dark Kingdom about a noble family who recently moved to the capital—an unusually secretive one. Word is they have a daughter around Tsukasa’s sister’s age. The descriptions match what little I could find about Saki Tenma.
I can’t confirm anything yet, but I’m sure this is a lead.
I will continue investigating.
Please don’t tell Tsukasa until we know for certain—I don’t want to give him false hope.

Rui stared at the last line for a long time.

His heart twisted.

Tsukasa had opened up about his past just two nights ago. About being abandoned. About his parents. About Saki. Rui had held him in the bath, listened to the shaking in Tsukasa’s breath, felt the weight of years of loneliness pressed against his chest.

To imagine Tsukasa’s little sister alive, somewhere out there…

Rui folded the letter slowly, pressing it to his chest.

He needed to act. He needed to find more—fast.

He couldn’t tell Tsukasa yet. He wouldn’t dangle hope in front of him unless that hope was solid. He would NOT let Tsukasa be hurt again.

Rui tucked the letter away in the inner pocket of his coat, his expression growing serious—dangerously so. His usual playful, dramatic demeanor melted into something sharp and focused.

A version of Rui only Tsukasa had ever softened.

He left the cottage quietly, slipping through the back garden gate. Nene would continue her work, but Rui had his own connections—old contacts from the Dark Kingdom, shadows he could whisper to, informants who owed him favors.

He would use every one of them.

Everything for Tsukasa.

Everything.

When Tsukasa returned later that afternoon, tired from training but warm with anticipation, he stepped into the cottage with a soft, “I’m home.”

Silence answered him.

It wasn’t unusual, but something about it made his chest tighten.

“Rui?” Tsukasa called again.

Still nothing.

He frowned and walked through the main room, then toward the back door where the garden stretched out in its colorful bloom.

And there—kneeling in the flower beds, hands buried in the soil, staring off into space with an expression much too deep for simple gardening—was Rui.

Tsukasa paused behind him, noticing immediately how uncharacteristically quiet Rui was. No humming. No muttering about flower symbolism. No dramatic gestures.

He was lost in thought.

Tsukasa’s lips curved slightly.

Time for that surprise he’d planned.

He stepped silently across the grass, moving with a knight’s precision, approaching Rui from behind with a rare bit of mischief sparkling in his eyes. For once, he wanted to be the one who caught Rui off guard.

He reached out—

Gently covered Rui’s eyes with both hands.

And leaned down, speaking low by Rui’s ear:

“Guess who.”

Rui froze.

Absolutely froze.

His hands stopped mid-movement in the soil, fingers curled with a half-planted sprout still between them. His breath hitched, shoulders stiffening beneath Tsukasa’s palms. For a second, Rui genuinely could not process what was happening—because no one snuck up on him.

No one surprised him.

No one except—

“…Tsukasa?” Rui whispered, voice dangerously soft.

Tsukasa smirked, the kind of smug yet quietly proud smirk he rarely let anyone see. “Correct,” he said, releasing Rui’s eyes and straightening up.

Rui spun around so fast his coat nearly caught on a rose bush. He stared up at Tsukasa with wide eyes, monocle slightly crooked, mouth open in pure disbelief.

“You— You actually— Tsukasa, you surprised me.” His voice cracked on the last word.

Tsukasa crossed his arms, chin lifting in triumphant satisfaction. “Of course I did. I am a trained knight. You underestimate my stealth abilities.”

Rui blinked once.

Twice.

Then he sat back in the dirt, utterly stunned.

Tsukasa’s smirk wavered. “…Rui?”

Rui raised a dramatic hand to his chest. “I can’t believe this. Years—YEARS—of performing in dangerous environments, centuries of dodging assassins, magical beasts, deranged audience members, Nene’s lectures—” he inhaled sharply, “and I get taken down by you sneaking up on me in a garden.”

Tsukasa’s cheeks flushed faintly. “Is it… that shocking?”

“Yes!” Rui cried, leaning forward and grabbing Tsukasa’s hand as if confirming he was real. “You’ve never succeeded before! You walk like a noble knight! Your boots click! Your armor clanks! You cough like a disapproving librarian! You stand like a statue! You—”

Tsukasa covered Rui’s mouth with one hand, flustered and attempting to hide a smile. “I get it. I get it. You’re surprised.”

Rui nodded quickly, still muffled under Tsukasa’s palm.

Tsukasa slowly removed his hand.

Rui breathed out dramatically. “…How long were you behind me?”

“A few seconds,” Tsukasa admitted, trying not to look too pleased with himself. “You didn’t notice me at all.”

Rui glared lightly. “Don’t rub it in.”

Tsukasa chuckled under his breath—a genuine, soft sound Rui wasn’t used to hearing. He reached down and offered Rui his hand to help him stand.

Rui took it.

And instead of standing normally, he pulled Tsukasa closer in one smooth tug, catching him off balance so that Tsukasa nearly toppled into him.

They stopped inches apart.

Rui’s eyes softened immediately, the edges of his smile turning warm instead of mischievous. “You really did surprise me,” he murmured. “And… you looked very proud of yourself. It was—” he swallowed, cheeks pinking just a little, “—cute.”

Tsukasa’s face went crimson. “C–Cute? I am not—”

“Yes,” Rui whispered, leaning a bit closer, “you are.”

For a heartbeat, the garden went still.

The breeze slowed.

Even the flowers seemed to tilt toward them.

Then Rui gently brushed a bit of soil off Tsukasa’s cheek with his thumb, far more tender than his usual theatrics.

“…Welcome home, Tsukasa.”

Tsukasa’s breath caught, and without thinking—without overthinking—he leaned forward and touched their foreheads together.

“I’m home,” he whispered back.

The world felt perfectly quiet around them.

But Rui’s mind was anything but quiet—because the letter in his pocket felt unbearably heavy, and Tsukasa’s warmth pressed against him felt unbearably precious.

And he had already decided—

No matter what the truth about Saki was, no matter what danger or kingdom politics lay ahead—

He would protect this warmth.

He would protect Tsukasa.

At any cost.

Chapter Text

Rui’s mischief began early—loud bursts of colorful smoke erupting between market stalls, enchanted ribbons wrapping around lamp posts, flower petals raining from rooftops while confused townsfolk whispered, “The sorcerer’s at it again—should we panic?” By noon, half the castle town was staring upward as a gigantic illusory dragon made entirely of glitter and confetti swooped overhead. Rui stood right beneath it, arms spread wide, grinning with the expression of a man absolutely determined to get his husband’s attention.

He didn’t have to wait long.

The moment the knights arrived—armor clanking, weapons drawn, dust flying—Tsukasa marched straight up to him with fire in his eyes. “RUI KAMISHIRO—WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”

Rui clasped his hands dreamily. “Ahh… Tsukasa yelled my full name… truly, I am blessed…”

Tsukasa nearly combusted. “This is not a blessing! You caused chaos again! You can’t just—”

“HE’S CLEARLY DOING IT ON PURPOSE,” one rookie knight groaned, rubbing his temples. “Maybe we should just capture him and—”

“NO.”
Akito and Mizuki snapped it in perfect unison, stepping in front of Rui like overprotective guard dogs.

The rookie blinked. “Huh—?”

Akito jabbed a thumb toward Tsukasa. “We’re not throwing our friend’s husband in a cell just because he missed him.”

Mizuki added with a pout, “Yeahhh, besides, it’s romantic~! Don’t ruin the vibe.”

Tsukasa froze. “Friend…?”

Akito shrugged. “Well, yeah. You train with us every day, don’t you?”

“And complain with us,” Mizuki chimed in. “That counts as friendship, you know.”

Tsukasa’s mouth opened slightly, eyes softening in surprise. No one noticed at first… but then, slowly, something rare appeared.

A smile.

Not a stiff polite one. A small, genuine one.

Akito stared. “…He SMILED.”

Rui’s jaw dropped. “Tsu…ka…sa… smiling? In public? Naturally? Without me forcing it?!”

Mizuki gasped dramatically. “We must celebrate this momentous occasion. Immediately. To the bar!”

Somehow—maybe because Rui grabbed Tsukasa’s arm and Mizuki grabbed Rui’s sleeve and Akito sighed in defeat—they all ended up in a cozy tavern corner. Tsukasa sat ramrod straight, still wearing his armor, looking like he wanted to evaporate as Mizuki and Rui slowly grew tipsy together, leaning on each other while cackling at absolutely nothing.

Akito sat next to Tsukasa, staring into his untouched drink with visible dread. “…My sister would literally kill me if I got drunk.”

Tsukasa blinked. “Your sister?”

Akito groaned. “Ena. Royal painter. You know—the one everyone says is terrifyingly talented and also terrifying in general? Yeah. That one. If I come home reeking of alcohol she’ll lecture me for hours.”

Tsukasa nodded solemnly. “I understand. Rui would… do something similar.”

Rui, overhearing, slapped a hand on Tsukasa’s shoulder—nearly missing and hitting his helmet instead. “I wouldn’t lecture you, dearest! I would simply trap you in an illusion until you sobered up!”

Mizuki burst out laughing. “That’s WORSE.”

Akito snorted into his hand. Tsukasa sighed but didn’t move away from Rui’s leaning weight. For the first time, the group actually felt like a group. Like companions. Like something Tsukasa had long forgotten the warmth of.

As Rui’s laughter softened into gentle humming against Tsukasa’s shoulder, Tsukasa allowed himself another small smile.

A real one.

Chapter Text

The tavern stayed loud long after sundown, lanternlight glowing warm across the wooden floors as laughter rolled from table to table. Rui was now draped lazily over Tsukasa’s shoulder, humming contently while Mizuki waved their half-empty glass like a conductor’s baton. Akito still hadn’t touched his drink, staring at it as if it were poison—until Mizuki leaned over, poked his cheek, and said, “Akitooo… live a little!”

Akito scowled. “I am living. I’m living RESPONSIBLY.”
Rui giggled. “Boring.”
Tsukasa nodded in agreement. “Quite boring.”

That was all it took—Mizuki thrust a drink into Tsukasa’s hands. “Come on, Tsukasa! ONE drink won’t kill you. You’re so stiff you make Akito look relaxed.”
Akito sputtered, “HEY—”

Tsukasa stared at the mug, indecisive… until Rui nudged him teasingly. “Unless the mighty chief chevalier is scared?”
Tsukasa’s pride snapped instantly. “I fear nothing.” He downed the entire drink in one go.

There was a pause.
Mizuki and Akito exchanged looks.
Rui blinked. “That was… fast.”

Five minutes later, Tsukasa’s ears turned red. Then his cheeks. Then—like a dam bursting—he slumped forward and let out the most un-Tsukasa sound imaginable:

A giggle.

A soft, bubbly, bright giggle that made all three of the others freeze.

Then he giggled again. Louder. “Ruiiiii… you look funny with two heads… hehe—no wait—three… no, two and a half…”
Rui stared, mesmerized. “He’s… adorable.”
Mizuki practically screamed, “HE’S BROKEN! THE KNIGHT IS BROKEN!”
Akito buried his face in his hands. “Oh no. This is going to be bad.”

It only got worse.

—or better, depending on who you asked.

Tsukasa suddenly leaned across the table, grabbed Rui’s face with both hands, and squished his cheeks. “You… you’re so pretty…” he slurred with zero hesitation. “How did I marry someone so PRETTY, huh?”
Rui’s soul left his body. “Tsu—Tsukasa-kun—??”

“You are so handsome, adorable, even! You are, um, magnificent!” Tsukasa continued, poking Rui’s nose every time he said the word, laughing hysterically at how the monocle wiggled.

Akito’s jaw dropped. Mizuki was recording the moment mentally to bring up later. Rui was turning pink all the way to the tips of his ears.

Then Tsukasa suddenly stood up—stumbling a little—slammed both hands on the table, pointed at Rui with dramatic drunken passion, and declared, “YOU. Sorcerer husband person. Dance with me.”

Rui blinked. “Dance…? Here?”

“Yes!” Tsukasa staggered slightly, caught himself, then puffed out his chest proudly. “I want to dance with you! Right now! You’re my husband so you have to!”

Rui’s heart nearly exploded. “Well—if you insist…”

Before he could even stand properly, Tsukasa grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him to the center of the tavern where a bard was tuning a lute. The bard took one look at them—Tsukasa flushed and sparkling with happiness, Rui looking like he’d been struck by lightning—and immediately switched to a soft lively tune.

Tsukasa swayed side to side, very off-beat, trying his best to look dignified while drunkenly stepping on Rui’s feet. Rui just held onto him, laughing breathlessly, guiding his movements gently.

“You’re terrible at this,” Rui teasingly murmured.
“And you. Are. Beautiful,” Tsukasa replied instantly, leaning forward until their foreheads touched.

Rui almost melted on the spot. Mizuki shrieked with joy in the background. Akito groaned but couldn’t hide a small smile.

Tsukasa kept rambling as they moved. “I love you… you know?—like, a lot, a LOT lot, like—like more than breakfast…”
“That is a high honor,” Rui whispered dramatically.
“And—AND—your hair is soft, and your magic is sparkly, and—and you make my chest feel weird but in a good way—like—” Tsukasa hiccuped— “like butterflies wearing armor…”

Rui laughed, pulling him closer so Tsukasa wouldn’t topple over. “Butterflies wearing armor…? That’s a new one.”

Tsukasa stared at him with glazed but sincere eyes. “Dance with me forever.”

Rui’s breath caught. “…I already planned to.”

And so they danced—badly, unevenly, yet overwhelmingly full of affection—while their friends watched, while the tavern cheered, while the lanternlight painted everything warm. For the first time in years, Tsukasa laughed freely, without fear, without restraint.

And Rui held him as though he were holding the most precious thing in the world—because he was.

Chapter Text

The tavern only grew louder as the night went on, lanterns swaying gently from the wooden beams while the four chaos-ridden idiots descended deeper into drunken delirium.

Mizuki was already leaning halfway over the table, chin in hand, eyes sparkling with wicked mischief as they watched Tsukasa practically drape himself over Rui while dancing in crooked circles. “Ohhh… this is GOLD. PURE GOLD. I could blackmail him with this for YEARS.”

Akito, who’d finally given in and finished half his drink, groaned. “Please don’t. He’ll actually die of embarrassment.”

“No no,” Mizuki waved a hand dramatically, “I won’t let him die. He needs to live so he can suffer from MY blackmail.”

Akito stared at them. “That’s… horrifying.”
Mizuki grinned sweetly. “Thank you!”

Rui and Tsukasa stumbled back toward the table, laughing so hard Rui had tears in his eyes. Tsukasa attempted to do a dip—like in ballroom dances—but all he managed was to nearly drop Rui onto the floor. Rui was giggling too hard to care.

“My knight—! My beautiful knight tried to murder me—!” Rui wheezed.
“I DID NO SUCH THING—” Tsukasa hiccuped loudly, then leaned in to kiss Rui’s forehead. “You’re just heavy.”
Rui gasped dramatically. “You wound me!”

Mizuki slapped the table. “I AM RECORDING ALL OF THIS IN MY MIND. EVERY SECOND.”

Akito took another sip of his drink and muttered, “I should’ve stayed home…”

Mizuki suddenly perked up. “Hey, Akitooooo~”
“No.”
“You don’t even know what I was going to say!”
“I know it’s something stupid.”
“Rude! Anyway—HEY AKITO—”
He sighed heavily. “…What?”

Mizuki twirled a strand of hair around their finger. “Wanna dance?”

Akito coughed on his drink. “What?! Absolutely not!”

“But Tsukasa got to dance with Rui! It’s only fair I dance with you!”

“That’s not—what—how is that FAIR—” Akito stammered, face turning pink.

Tsukasa, overhearing, slammed both hands on the table. “I’ll dance with Akito!!”
Rui wheezed. “You can barely stand—”
“And I’ll dance with you, Mizuki!” Tsukasa added proudly.

Mizuki’s eyes went WIDE. Then they slowly, devilishly grinned at Akito.

“Ohhhhhh I’m going to use THAT as blackmail later too.”

Akito paled. “Leave us alone!”

Before anything could happen, Tsukasa tripped over his own foot and landed squarely in Rui’s lap, arms around Rui’s neck like a clingy octopus. Rui didn’t mind at all—if anything, he looked delighted beyond reason.

Mizuki pointed dramatically. “SEE!? That right there—! That is PEAK blackmail material! I am SET FOR LIFE!”

Akito grabbed the entire bottle and took a long, suffering drink.

Tsukasa, meanwhile, was nuzzling his face into Rui’s shoulder with the content purr of a drunk cat. “Ruiiiiii… Ruiiiiii… do you know… I LIKE you…? I like you so much I wanna—I uh, I wanna—”
Rui stroked his back lovingly. “Tsu-ka-sa. My dear. You’re very drunk.”
Tsukasa gasped. “YOU NOTICED??”
Rui snorted and kissed his cheek.

Mizuki clasped their hands together dramatically. “This is the BEST NIGHT EVER.”
Akito sighed. “It’s a nightmare…”
Mizuki elbowed him. “Admit it. You love it.”
“…It’s tolerable,” Akito grumbled, but the tiny smile ruined any attempt at seriousness.

Tsukasa suddenly stood up on wobbly legs and struck the most unsteady heroic pose imaginable. “Knights! Tonight! We shall—hic—engage in honorable… mischief!”
Rui raised his hand from where he slumped in his seat. “I second this.”
Mizuki cheered. “MISCHIEF!!”
Akito shook his head. “Oh gods help me—”

And just like that, the four of them descended into another round of chaotic shenanigans: Tsukasa trying to arm-wrestle everyone, Rui enchanting the mugs to glow different colors, Mizuki making up fake tavern rules just to see if drunk Tsukasa would follow them, and Akito trying desperately (and failing) to keep everyone from getting kicked out.

It was ridiculous.
It was chaotic.
It was absolutely, wonderfully stupid.

And for the first time in what felt like ages—the tavern echoed with Tsukasa’s uninhibited laughter, Rui’s delighted cackling, Mizuki’s teasing snorts, and Akito’s half-suffering half-fond sighs, realizing this is not as bad as he thought it would be.

Chapter Text

The cottage was dark—too dark for two drunk idiots with zero spatial awareness. The door swung open, slamming into the wall because Tsukasa leaned his entire weight on it. Rui stumbled in first, giggling breathlessly as his monocle nearly slid off his face.

Then thunk—Tsukasa tripped over the threshold and fell directly onto Rui’s back.

Rui wheezed. “M–my love, I am going to DIE under your heroic weight—”

Tsukasa, cheeks flushed pink and eyes glassy, laughed into Rui’s spine. “Ruiii… you’re so bouncy—like… like one of those soft bread things…”

“Bread…? Bread?? Tsu-ka-sa, are you calling me carbohydrate-based!?”

Tsukasa attempted to get up.
He failed.

They wobbled sideways into the wall.

Thud.

“Ah,” Rui said, staring cross-eyed at the darkness. “A wall. Fascinating.”

Tsukasa giggled, like an overexcited child. “Rui look, look—we hit something!”

“Yes, darling. The wall. Again.”

He tried to steady himself, only for Tsukasa to completely slump over him, arms wrapped around his shoulders. Rui attempted to walk. They bumped into a chair. Then a cabinet. Then the table. Tsukasa kept laughing harder each time.

“You’re doing that… teleport thing… right?” Tsukasa panted between giggles. “You always do that thing. Do the thing.”

“I am trying, beloved,” Rui sputtered, “but my magic is… hic… flourished—flourishing—no—FOILED. FOILED by your existence!”

Tsukasa gasped dramatically. “I foiled your magic! I’m amazing!”

“Yes, yes, you truly are.”

Rui closed his eyes and focused.
A bright crimson pop filled the darkness—

—and they landed in the kitchen.

They both blinked.

Tsukasa burst into hysterical laughter.

“Wrong room…” Rui muttered and tried again.

Another pop.

The garden.

Tsukasa: “Why’re we outside??”
Rui: “Because the universe hates me.”

Pop.

The storage room.
Tsukasa clapped like an excited seal.
Rui almost cried.

Pop.

They crashed halfway onto the couch, Tsukasa’s legs dangling off, Rui’s face buried into the cushions at a painful angle.

Tsukasa was wheezing. “I’m… I’m gonna—Rui—RUI—my stomach—stop being funny—it hurts—”

“Trust me,” Rui groaned, “I want nothing more than to STOP.”

He concentrated with all the dignity he could muster.

POOOOP.

And finally—they landed on the bed.
Tsukasa flopped onto his back, staring up at the ceiling with glassy, blissful eyes. Rui lay beside him, chest heaving, hair a mess, monocle somehow hanging from his ear.

Tsukasa rolled over, facing him, their foreheads almost touching.

“Rui…” he whispered, voice suddenly soft. “Thank you.”

Rui blinked. “For… the teleportation disaster?”

“No…” Tsukasa smiled drowsily. “For… changing my life.”

Rui froze.
Tsukasa continued, eyes half-closed but honest.

“You make everything brighter. Even when you’re annoying. Even when you’re dramatic. Even when you talk too much or tease me or summon flowers everywhere…” He reached up and brushed a strand of Rui’s hair back. “I used to think happiness wasn’t something I could have anymore. But you… you made me feel alive again.”

Rui’s breath caught.

Tsukasa rambled on, words slurring but emotion pure, raw.

“I love you. I love you so much I… I don’t even know what to do with it. I love you more than my sword, more than my honor, more than being a knight—you’re… you’re the best thing that ever happened to me… Rui… Rui, Rui, Rui…” His hand slid down, cupping Rui’s cheek. “I’m so lucky I met you. You changed everything. I want to be with you forever, let us be together for always and ever. I love you more than anything, I looove you! I—”

And then—mid-sentence—Tsukasa’s voice faded.

He passed out.

Just like that, face relaxed, cheek pressed against the pillow, breath soft and warm.

Rui lay completely still.

His heart wasn’t beating—it was screaming.
He stared at Tsukasa with wide, surprised eyes.

A minute ago he’d been stumbling drunk.
Now he felt frighteningly sober.

“…You absolute…” Rui whispered, voice shaking, “…unfair man.”

He slowly reached out, brushing Tsukasa’s bangs aside with a touch so gentle it barely counted as contact.

“You’re not supposed to say things like that while drunk,” he murmured, throat tightening. “You’ll kill me… and I’ll thank you for it…”

Tsukasa didn’t respond, already asleep, breathing steady and peaceful.

Rui swallowed hard, cheeks blooming red, heart twisting painfully.

He curled closer—not touching, but close enough to feel Tsukasa’s warmth.

“Goodnight, my knight,” Rui whispered shakily. “And thank you… for loving me.”

Then he closed his eyes, unable to sleep for a long, long time—too busy replaying every word Tsukasa had slurred, engraving it into his heart forever.

Chapter Text

Tsukasa woke up feeling like someone had slammed a cathedral bell directly into his skull.

He groaned, rolled over, immediately regretted existing, and buried his face back into the blankets. The room spun. His stomach protested. His dignity was nowhere to be found.

“Good morning, my radiant dawn~” Rui sang from somewhere far too bright, far too cheerful, and far too in love for Tsukasa’s current tolerance level.

Tsukasa let out a feral noise into the pillow. “No.”

Rui giggled—actually giggled. “Oh, Tsukasa, your voice is so cute when you’re suffering.”

Tsukasa slowly turned his head to glare at him. Rui was sitting on the edge of the bed, chin in hands, smiling dreamily like a teenager with a crush.

“…Why are you staring at me?” Tsukasa muttered, eyes half-open.

Rui sighed. Loudly. Dramatically. Dreamily. “My heart… is all yours.”

Tsukasa blinked.
Rui sparkled.
Tsukasa blinked harder.

“…What.”

Rui leaned so close the tips of their noses almost touched. “Tsukasa, my beloved—let’s get married again.”

Tsukasa made a noise somewhere between a groan and a threat. “You’re weird. Stop being weird. My head hurts.”

Rui pouted. “But you said the sweetest things last night—”

Tsukasa immediately threw a pillow at him. “STOP TALKING.”

The pillow bounced off Rui harmlessly. Rui looked at him with soft, wounded eyes that absolutely did not help Tsukasa’s headache.

Tsukasa swung his legs off the bed and stood up on wobbly feet. “I’m too tired to make breakfast…”

Rui gasped. Offended. Singled out by destiny itself. “What do you mean too tired!? Tsukasa, breakfast is the ritual of love in this household!”

“Rui… I will actually pass away if I crack an egg.”

Rui clutched his chest. “Tragedy. Suffering. Heartbreak.”

Tsukasa sighed and grabbed his training clothes. “I’m going to the palace grounds. If you want breakfast, conjure it yourself.”

Rui opened his mouth to protest—but Tsukasa was already gone, leaving Rui dramatically collapsed across the bed, muttering something about “marriage number two…”

When Tsukasa arrived at the palace training grounds, he quickly realized he wasn’t the only one dying.

Akito was leaning against a wall like it was the only thing keeping him alive. Mizuki was sitting cross-legged on the ground, sunglasses on, sipping water with suspiciously smug energy.

“Ohhh~ Tsukasa~~!” Mizuki sing-songed. “Good morning, sunshine!”

Tsukasa groaned. “Please stop.”

Akito groaned harder. “Please stop louder.”

Mizuki kicked their legs happily. “You know, Tsukasa… you were adorable last night.”

Tsukasa froze. “What do you mean.”

“Oh nothing~” Mizuki smiled like a cat who’d eaten the world’s most incriminating canary. “Just that I now have blackmail. So much blackmail. Enough blackmail to last me a lifetime.”

Akito shuddered. “Don’t remind me.”

Mizuki grinned wider. “You asking Rui to dance? You giggling? You telling him he’s a ‘sparkly miracle’? Oh, the material.”

Tsukasa wanted to die. Preferably immediately. Possibly twice for good measure.

“Mizuki,” Tsukasa said darkly, “I will pay you. Any amount. Just forget whatever you remember.”

“Oh, Tsukasa,” Mizuki purred, “you think I didn’t already write it ALL down?”

Akito groaned again. “Why are you like this.”

Mizuki shrugged. “Entertainment.”

Tsukasa put his hands over his face. “I’m never drinking again.”

Mizuki hummed innocently. “You say that now… but next time? I’m getting a sketch artist.”

Tsukasa let out a noise that sounded like despair.

Akito pat his back weakly. “We’re all suffering, man…”

Mizuki just beamed.

Training hadn’t even started, and Tsukasa already wanted to go home and bury himself under twelve blankets while Rui sighed and professed eternal love at him for the seventeenth time that morning.

And somehow—that thought made his hangover feel a little less awful.

Chapter Text

Tsukasa’s day only got worse as training continued. Every time he so much as breathed, Mizuki recited another piece of blackmail with the sweetness of a bard singing poetry.

“How about the part where you told Rui he was ‘more dazzling than the morning sun’?” Mizuki chirped while stretching.
Tsukasa turned scarlet. “I DID NOT—”
“Oh, but you did,” Mizuki cooed. “Very loudly.”
Akito, still pale, mumbled, “I’m begging you… stop talking…”

By the time training ended, Tsukasa had so much mental torment stored up that he practically sprinted out of the palace grounds. He didn’t even say goodbye. He just ran.

He didn’t know why he was running—only that his chest ached with this strange, yearning urgency. All morning he’d been thinking of Rui. Rui laughing. Rui smiling. Rui saying dramatic things about love and marriage. Rui looking at him like he was… precious.

Every time he remembered those soft violet eyes, something fluttered in his ribcage. It was unbearable. Terrifying. Wonderful.

He burst through the cottage door.
“Rui? I’m home!”

Silence.
No footsteps.
No teasing voice emerging from the kitchen.
No floating objects indicating magic mischief.

He checked every room.
“Rui?”
Nothing.

A tight, unfamiliar panic squeezed at Tsukasa’s heart. He checked again. And again. As if Rui would magically appear if he searched hard enough. But the cottage remained empty.

He stepped outside, breath quickening.
Why was he reacting like this?
It was just Rui…
Just his husband…
Just the one person who made him feel warm and safe and seen…

His heartbeat spiked.
He realized with a cold shock: he’d become attached. Deeply, hopelessly attached. Ever since he told Rui the truth about his past, some wall inside him had fallen—and something vulnerable and new had taken its place.

Tsukasa didn’t even try to resist the impulse. He bolted down the forest path, following faint traces of Rui’s magic lingering in the air like drifting sparks. He didn’t stop to rest. Didn’t slow down. He had to find him. Now.

Hours later, the trail grew clearer, leading toward the border of the Dark Kingdom. Anxiety gnawed at Tsukasa—Rui would never come this close without a reason.

He quickened his pace.
Voices drifted through the trees.

He pushed past a final curtain of leaves—
And froze.

Rui stood at the edge of the border’s dark mist, speaking in a low, serious tone to Nene. She looked tense, clutching a folder of documents. Rui’s expression was sharper, sadder, more determined than usual.

Tsukasa’s breath caught when he heard his sister’s name.

“…so Saki might still be here,” Nene was saying, pointing at a map of the dark territory. “These reports aren’t confirmed yet, but there’s enough to suggest—”

Rui interrupted, quiet but firm. “If she’s alive, we will find her.”

Tsukasa couldn’t move.
Couldn’t speak.
He stood there, stunned, as the weight of everything Rui was doing—for him—hit him all at once.

The desperation in his chest twisted into something warmer, something fuller, something that made his breath tremble.

He stepped forward, voice cracking slightly despite himself.
“Rui?”

Rui and Nene turned. Rui’s eyes widened in surprise—then softened instantly in relief.

Tsukasa’s panic dissolved the moment their gazes met.
He exhaled—
And realized he’d found home.

Chapter Text

Rui reacted instantly the moment Tsukasa appeared through the trees. His posture snapped from calculated calm to a stiff, guilty alertness, the kind he only ever displayed when he knew he’d been caught doing something reckless. The map in his hand vanished in a flutter of iridescent sparks. He cleared his throat, looking everywhere except at Tsukasa.

“A–ah, Tsukasa. Fancy meeting you here. I was just, you know, admiring the… border fog. It has a remarkable density today—”

He stopped mid-ramble, because Tsukasa wasn’t glaring at him for once. He wasn’t crossing his arms. He wasn’t even frowning.

He was shaking.

Tsukasa stood several steps away, his breath unsteady, his lips parted as if he’d been running for hours—which, technically, he had. His eyes glistened unmistakably, reflecting the dim purple glow of the border’s mist.

Rui froze. Completely.

Nene noticed too. Her eyes widened, flicked between the two men, and she abruptly clapped her hands together.

“WELP,” she said far too loudly, “that’s my cue to leave. I’ll, uh—I’ll find more information. I’ll send a letter. Immediately. Goodbye.”

She turned and bolted so fast she tripped over a rock, swore, and kept running.

And then it was silent. Heavy. Unbearably so.

Rui swallowed. “Tsukasa…?”

Tsukasa took a step forward. Then another. His hands clenched at his sides, his breath trembling harder with every inch of space he closed between them. When he finally reached Rui, he didn’t speak—he just stared at Rui’s face as if memorizing every detail, searching for something, anything, to hold onto.

Rui’s voice came out softer than intended. “I wasn’t— I mean, I wasn’t doing anything that should worry you…”

“Don’t,” Tsukasa whispered, voice cracking.

Rui’s breath hitched. “Don’t… what?”

“Don’t lie to me.”
It wasn’t an order. It wasn’t angry.
It was pleading.

Rui’s chest tightened painfully. He opened his mouth to speak—but Tsukasa beat him to it.

“You left,” Tsukasa blurted. “You left without a word. No note. Not even one of your stupid glowing flower petals floating around the house to tell me where you went.”

Rui blinked. “I—”

“You didn’t come home,” Tsukasa continued, his voice shaking more with each word. “You weren’t in the cottage. You weren’t in the garden. You weren’t anywhere—”

His voice broke.

“—and I couldn’t find you.”

Rui’s heart dropped straight into his stomach.

Tsukasa dragged a shaking hand through his hair, pacing a half-step before turning sharply back toward him.

“Do you know how dangerous the border is?” he snapped—not out of anger, but out of fear so raw it scraped his throat. “You shouldn’t be here alone! You should have told me! You should have—”

He cut himself off with a frustrated, choked sound.

Rui had never seen him like this. Not even when Tsukasa told him about his mother abandoning him. Not even when he had confessed how lonely his childhood had been. This wasn’t the stoic knight or the restrained husband—this was Tsukasa stripped of every last wall, trembling and exposed.

Rui forced himself to breathe.
Then he stepped closer.

“Tsukasa,” he murmured, voice steadying, “I was doing this for you.”

Tsukasa’s head jerked up.

Rui continued before Tsukasa could interrupt—a rarity in itself.

“I had to know,” he said softly. “I had to find out if Saki was alive. I had to try. Because watching you talk about her… watching you look so hopeful and so scared in the same breath… I—”

He broke off, inhaling shakily.

“Tsukasa, I would rather die than watch you go through life believing you’re alone. Believing you’ve lost everyone who mattered.”

Tsukasa went still.

Absolutely still.

The forest quieted around them as if holding its breath.

Rui kept talking, voice lowering to a near-whisper. “I know I’m reckless. I know I should have told you. But you don’t understand what it does to me—to see you hurting like that. To see you smile at Emu with such genuine joy, like the happiness you had before everything was taken from you. I… I want you to have that again.”

Tsukasa’s lips trembled. Rui had never seen that expression on him—some fragile mix of disbelief, yearning, and something dangerously close to breaking.

Rui’s voice dropped even further.
“I’ve been selfish. I was jealous of Emu. I admit it. Seeing you smile at her… like you once did before all the loss, before all the loneliness— I felt like I was standing in the shadow of someone who knew a version of you I’d never get to meet.”

Tsukasa inhaled sharply.

Rui stepped close enough that their breath mingled in the cold border air.

“But that’s not why I came here today,” Rui whispered. “I came here because I want you to have that smile again. With everyone you care about. With anyone who brings you joy. With your sister… if she’s alive. I want you to have all of it.”

Tsukasa made a small sound. A tiny, broken, helpless noise that Rui had never heard from him before—a whimper born from emotions too big to contain.

And then he grabbed Rui’s shirt and buried his face into Rui’s shoulder.

Rui froze only for a heartbeat before wrapping his arms around Tsukasa with no hesitation at all. Tsukasa trembled against him—actually trembled—like he was fighting not to completely fall apart.

“You can’t just—” Tsukasa choked out against his shoulder, “—go running into danger for me. You can’t just risk yourself like that.”

Rui smiled faintly, resting his chin atop Tsukasa’s head. “I can. And I will. Because I want you to be happy.”

Tsukasa’s fingers curled tighter into his clothes.

Rui exhaled softly, stroking a slow hand down Tsukasa’s back. “You deserve to feel free. To feel light. To laugh without holding back. To trust someone without fear of losing them. You deserve the world, Tsukasa.”

Tsukasa shook his head in the tiniest, weakest denial—like he didn’t believe he deserved anything at all.

Rui held him firmer.

“You deserve it,” he whispered into Tsukasa’s hair. “And I am going to make sure you get it. Even if I have to fight kingdoms, or cross borders, or chase your sister to the ends of the world.”

Tsukasa’s breath hitched again—this one sharper, strained.

Rui pulled back enough to gently cup Tsukasa’s face. “Look at me.”

Tsukasa lifted his head slowly, eyes red and glassy, cheeks streaked with tears he didn’t even seem aware of shedding.

Rui brushed one tear away with his thumb.

“You’re not alone,” he said softly. “Not anymore.”

Tsukasa stared at him for a long, silent, unbearably vulnerable moment.

And then—finally—he whispered, voice trembling like a fragile flame,
“Rui… I don’t know what to do with you.”

Rui smiled just a little. “You don’t have to do anything. Just stay with me.”

Tsukasa swallowed hard, eyes flickering between Rui’s.
“Promise me something.”

“Anything,” Rui answered instantly.

“If you ever leave the cottage again…” Tsukasa’s voice wavered, “…tell me where you’re going. Even if it’s something dangerous. Especially then. I— I can’t—”

He couldn’t finish.
He didn’t need to.

Rui slid his hands to Tsukasa’s shoulders and pulled him into his chest again, holding him gently but securely.

“I promise,” he whispered. “I’ll never disappear on you again.”

Tsukasa exhaled in a shudder, leaning fully into him as if finally—finally—letting himself rest in someone else’s arms.

The border wind rustled the trees, carrying away the last of Tsukasa’s panicked breaths and replacing them with something steadier, something warmer.

Chapter Text

The walk home was slow—much slower than either of them expected. Not because the path was long, or because the forest was thick, but because Tsukasa refused to let go of Rui’s hand. Even after he had stopped shaking, even after Rui steadied his breathing, even after the immediate fear had sunk into something quieter and heavier, Tsukasa still held Rui’s hand like it was the only thing anchoring him to the world.

Rui didn’t comment on it.
He didn’t tease.
He didn’t smirk or wiggle his eyebrows or make a single flirtatious remark.

He simply held Tsukasa’s hand back with a soft, steady grip, thumb brushing over Tsukasa’s knuckles every so often as if silently reminding him, I’m here. I’m safe. I’m not going anywhere.

The evening’s light dimmed into dusk by the time the cottage became visible through the trees. Fireflies drifted lazily around the clearing, glowing in soft yellow patterns, as though greeting them. Tsukasa let Rui’s hand go only when they reached the front door, and even then, it wasn’t immediate. His fingers lingered, reluctant, before finally slipping away.

Rui noticed.
Tsukasa noticed that Rui noticed.

And they both pretended not to.

Tsukasa pushed open the door first, stepping into the warm glow of the interior. Rui followed, closing the door quietly behind them. The scent of herbs and tea still hung in the air from that morning—a familiar comfort.

Tsukasa turned immediately.

“Sit,” he ordered.

Rui blinked. “Huh?”

Tsukasa gestured firmly toward the couch. “Rui. Sit.”

Rui tilted his head, a little amused, but he obeyed and sat down, folding one leg neatly over the other. Tsukasa remained standing for a moment, staring at him with a seriousness that made Rui’s heart skip.

Then Tsukasa walked over and sat directly across from him, knees nearly touching Rui’s.

“Explain,” Tsukasa said. “All of it. What you were doing at the border. What you’ve been planning. Why Nene was there. And why you thought it was acceptable not to tell me.”

Rui inhaled slowly, fingers tapping together in a small anxious rhythm he rarely showed openly.

“Tsukasa,” he began gently, “I wanted to find Saki.”

Tsukasa’s eyes flickered, softening, but he didn’t speak.

So Rui continued. “I know how important she is to you. I know she’s the one piece of your past left unresolved. And after you told me everything in the bath…” Rui swallowed, voice tightening slightly at the memory of how fragile Tsukasa had been. “After you opened up to me like that, I couldn’t— I had to do something.”

Tsukasa stared at him quietly. Rui kept going.

“When you talk about your family, about the way you grew up, about how your father died and how your mother left you… Tsukasa, it hurts. It physically hurts to hear it. To see the scars it left behind.” He clasped his hands together. “I don’t want you to carry that alone anymore. I don’t want you to believe even for a second that you’re still abandoned.”

Tsukasa shifted uncomfortably at that word—abandoned—and Rui resisted the urge to reach out immediately.

“But going to the border?” Rui continued. “That was the only place I could find rumors about movement between kingdoms. The dark kingdom keeps secrets. Nene can only tell me what she overhears, not what the nobles hide. So I had to get closer. I had to search. For your sake.”

Tsukasa closed his eyes for a moment. Rui waited.

And then Tsukasa exhaled through his nose, a long, slow, exhausted sound.

“You foolish… reckless… ridiculous sorcerer.”

Rui raised a brow. “That’s a lot of adjectives for someone who was crying into my shoulder half an hour ago.”

Tsukasa’s ears instantly turned red. “D–Don’t you start—!”

Rui smirked, but gently. “You told me to explain. I’ve explained. Now it’s your turn to speak.”

Tsukasa’s hands clenched into fists on his knees. He stared at the floor for several seconds before looking up, expression tight—a mixture of anger, fear, and something more vulnerable.

“Rui,” he began slowly, “you can’t go to the border anymore.”

Rui blinked. “Tsukasa—”

“No.” Tsukasa shook his head firmly. “Listen to me. If the Light Kingdom finds out you were gathering information near the border, they’ll assume you’re a spy. Especially with your magic. Especially with your reputation.” His jaw clenched. “I will not risk them accusing you of treason.”

Rui gave a quiet, almost amused hum. “Treason? Me? How flattering.”

Tsukasa glared. “This isn’t a joke.”

Rui’s smile vanished instantly.
Tsukasa took a breath, steadying himself.

“I’m serious,” he continued. “If they start to doubt you—even for a moment—they could strip your right to roam the kingdom. They could bar you from the castle. They could… they could separate us.” His voice dropped to something more fragile. “I won’t allow that. I won’t risk that.”

Rui stared at him. Really stared.

Tsukasa looked away.

“And,” Tsukasa added quietly, “if something happened to you… if the border patrol caught you, or the dark kingdom’s guards mistook you for an intruder, or—”

He cut himself off, swallowing hard.

Rui leaned forward.

“Tsukasa,” he murmured softly, “I’m not that easy to catch. Or kill.”

“That’s not the point,” Tsukasa snapped, surprising even himself with the sharpness of it. “I don’t care how skilled you are. I don’t care how strong your magic is. If something happened to you, I…”

His voice thinned.

“…I wouldn’t survive it.”

Rui froze.
Tsukasa kept breathing, shallow and shaky, eyes fixed on the floor again.

“I’ve already lost too much,” Tsukasa continued quietly. “I can’t lose you too. I can’t. So I need you to promise me something.”

He finally lifted his gaze, meeting Rui’s eyes dead-on, unflinching despite the softness in them.

“Promise me you won’t go near the border again.”

Rui hesitated. Just for a moment.
Not because he didn’t care—but because he cared too much.

“Tsukasa…”

“Promise me,” Tsukasa repeated, voice firmer this time. “You can cause mischief. You can teleport around the castle town. You can make those stupid bouquets appear out of thin air. You can annoy Akito and confuse Mizuki and flirt with me in front of everyone.” His cheeks turned pink at the last part. “You can do anything you want within the kingdom.”

He leaned forward.

“But do not step near that border again. Not alone. Not in secret. Not even for me.”

Rui’s throat tightened. “You’re asking me to stop searching for Saki.”

Tsukasa looked pained—but resolute.

“I’m asking you to stop endangering yourself,” he whispered. “If Saki is alive, we will find her another way. Together. Carefully. Safely.” His voice shook. “But not like this.”

Rui looked down at his hands. At the faint scars on his palms from years of magic practice. At the little glimmer of light that always flickered between his fingers.

He had done reckless things his entire life.
He had thrown himself into danger countless times.
He had never once feared the consequences.

Until Tsukasa cried.

Until Tsukasa ran into the forest for him.

Until Tsukasa trembled in his arms like the thought of losing Rui was unbearable.

Rui’s expression softened.
He reached out, slowly, and placed his hand over Tsukasa’s.

Tsukasa’s breath caught.

“…Alright,” Rui whispered. “I promise.”

Tsukasa’s shoulders sagged with relief so palpable it was almost painful to look at.

“Thank you,” Tsukasa breathed.

Rui squeezed his hand gently. “But you know, Tsukasa… when you said I could flirt with you in front of everyone?”

Tsukasa nearly choked. “T–That’s not—! I didn’t—!”

Rui smirked. “Seems like you’ve grown rather bold, my beloved knight.”

Tsukasa reached for a pillow to throw at him. Rui predicted it instantly and leaned back, laughing.

The tension dissolved, not completely, but enough that Tsukasa’s expression softened again, exhaustion settling over him. Rui stood first and offered a hand. Tsukasa hesitated… then took it.

They walked to the kitchen together without letting go.

Tsukasa stopped in front of the cupboard, pulling out a kettle with one hand while still holding Rui’s with the other.

Rui’s smile softened. “You don’t have to hold my hand while boiling water.”

Tsukasa stiffened, like realizing it too late, and yanked his hand away with a sharp cough. “W–Well, excuse me for not wanting you to, um… wander off again.”

Rui leaned against the counter, amused. “Are you this clingy when you’re scared, or is this a new development?”

Tsukasa glared intensely at the kettle.

“Shut up.”

Rui only chuckled and reached out again, gently taking Tsukasa’s wrist.
Tsukasa froze.

“I meant what I said,” Rui murmured softly. “I promise I won’t go near the border again. Not alone. Not in secret. Not without telling you. I’ll be careful.”

Tsukasa swallowed, eyes lowering. “…Good.”

“And,” Rui added gently, tilting Tsukasa’s chin up with two fingers, “I’m not going anywhere. You’re not losing me.”

Tsukasa’s face flushed, and for a moment, he looked younger. Softer. Like the boy he once was before life hardened him.

“Don’t say things like that so casually…” Tsukasa muttered.

“Why?” Rui teased lightly. “Does it make you flustered?”

Tsukasa turned red. “I— No— I just—!”

Rui laughed and leaned in, brushing a kiss against Tsukasa’s temple before pulling away.

Tsukasa went absolutely silent.

And then he grumbled, “…Shameless sorcerer,” under his breath.

Rui only smiled wider.

By the time the tea was finished, the fear had faded from Tsukasa’s eyes—replaced by determination, protectiveness, and a quiet tenderness he rarely allowed himself to show.

And for the first time in a long, long time, Rui felt no need to tease.

He simply sat beside Tsukasa on the couch, their knees touching, sharing warm tea in a silent promise they both understood:

Whatever happens next—
they’ll face it together.

Chapter Text

The next morning came quietly. Not softly—because Tsukasa never woke softly—but quietly.

He moved around the cottage with a strange gentleness that Rui had never witnessed before. His steps were lighter. His gaze lingered longer. And every time Rui turned around, Tsukasa was staring at him.

Not the usual “I’m watching you because you’re about to summon fireworks in the kitchen” stare.
Not even the fond, suspicious one he reserved specifically for Rui’s more chaotic moods.

No—this was different.

It was hopeful.
Almost… anticipating.

Rui noticed it immediately.

He was seated at the small wooden table, sorting through herbs while humming softly, when he felt Tsukasa’s eyes on him for the seventh time that morning. Rui lifted his head, saw Tsukasa freeze like a guilty puppy, and smiled slowly.

“…Is something on my face?” Rui asked, tapping his cheek.

Tsukasa stiffened. “N–No.”

“Then why are you staring at me like I’m about to perform a circus act specifically for your enjoyment?”

“I wasn’t—!” Tsukasa’s voice cracked halfway through the sentence. He coughed into his hand. “I simply… happened to be looking in your general direction.”

“Mmhm.” Rui rested his chin in his hand. “How very coincidental.”

Tsukasa turned aggressively to the cabinet as if it had personally offended him. “I’m going to the palace to train.”

Rui blinked. “You already trained yesterday.”

Tsukasa didn’t turn around. “I… want to get stronger.”

Rui’s eyes softened. “Tsukasa—”

“I’ll be back by the afternoon,” Tsukasa cut in quickly. “Don’t cause trouble while I’m gone.”

Rui smirked. “No promises.”

Tsukasa paused at the door, glancing over his shoulder again. His eyes flickered—hopeful again, soft again—and then he left, shutting the door a little too gently to be normal.

Rui stared at the door for a long moment.

“…He’s acting strange.”

He turned back to the herbs. And yet, every few minutes, the image of Tsukasa’s bright, expectant eyes flashed in his mind.

It was near midday when rapid, excited knocking shook the cottage door.

Rui opened it expecting Tsukasa.

Instead—

“RUUUUIIIIIIIIIIIIII!!~”

Princess Emu practically launched herself into his arms, glittering with enthusiasm from head to toe.

Rui blinked. “Princess Emu?”

She beamed up at him. “Good afternoon! I’m here on very important business!”

“…You’re not supposed to be here,” Rui reminded her gently. “If the court notices—”

“It’s fine! I snuck out!” She said this proudly, as if it were a skill she had mastered. “Anyway! Rui! Rui! Ruiiiii! Listen!”

Before Rui could respond, she leaned in dramatically and whispered, “It’s Tsukasa’s birthday.”

“…”

“…”

Rui stared at her as if she had just spoken in a forgotten magical language.

“…His what?”

“His birthday!!” Emu repeated, sparkles practically bursting from her hair. “He was born today!”

“I— yes, that is what that normally means,” Rui said dryly. “But why did no one tell me?!”

Emu blinked innocently. “Hm? Because Tsukasa never celebrates it.”

Rui went still.

“…Never?”

Emu shook her head. “Never. Not since he was little.”

Rui’s eyes darkened for a moment.

The weight in that never was not lost on him.

Then Emu suddenly clasped her hands. “So! We should throw a surpriiiiise party here before he comes home!”

Rui actually flinched back. “A surprise— here?! But—! But the princess cannot be—”

“We’ll be fast!” Emu chirped. “I’ll invite Mizuki and Akito!”

“You’re going to invite—”

“Yes!!!”

Rui pinched the bridge of his nose. He knew better than to argue with her excited determination. “Fine. Yes. We’ll throw a party.”

Emu squealed.

“I’ll go get Mizuki and Akito!! You invite anybody you want too!!”

“Anybody?” Rui echoed.

“Yep!!”

Rui paused thoughtfully. “…Then I will invite Nene.”

Emu froze. “Nene? Who’s Nene?”

Rui smiled mysteriously. “A friend.”

Emu looked very suspicious, but she didn’t press. “Okay! I’ll be back sooooon~~!!”

And like a pink tornado, she vanished into the trees.

Rui sighed, ran a hand through his hair, then whispered an incantation to summon a small glowing orb.

“Nene,” he murmured to the orb. “Come to the cottage. Quickly.”

The orb vanished.

It didn’t even take twenty minutes before Mizuki and Akito barged into the cottage.

Mizuki exploded through the door with streamers and confetti she definitely did not obtain legally.

“WE’RE HERE!!!!” she sang.

Akito followed behind, rubbing his temples. “Please don’t yell, my head is killing me…”

“Oh hush,” Mizuki shoved a bag into his hands. “We’re decorating for Tsukasa’s big day!”

Akito blinked. “Tsukasa has a birthday?”

Rui stared at the ceiling. “Apparently everyone but me knew this.”

Emu soon arrived carrying boxes of sweets that smelled suspiciously like they had been stolen from the royal kitchens.

The cottage turned chaotic in seconds.

Emu made banners.
Mizuki made glitter disasters.
Akito attempted to bake something but kept getting frosting on his shirt.
Rui stood in the center giving instructions like a general planning a war.

“Streamers there. Cake on the counter. Do not put candles near the curtains. Mizuki, stop taping glitter to the walls.”

“It’s aesthetic!” Mizuki protested.

“It’s a fire hazard,” Akito muttered.

Rui sighed.

The door knocked softly.

Rui turned toward it immediately. “That must be Nene.”

He opened it.

Princess Nene stood waiting, dressed in simple clothes but with the unmistakable aura of dark kingdom nobility. She stepped inside quietly, giving a polite nod.

“This is Nene,” Rui introduced calmly. “Princess of the Dark Kingdom.”

Mizuki blinked.
Akito froze.
Emu gasped so hard she nearly inhaled a streamer.

“Princess…?” Akito whispered.

Mizuki stared for three full seconds before saying, “Well! Okay!”

That was all she needed.

But Emu—

Oh dear.

Emu stared at Nene with wide, sparkling eyes, pink blush spreading across her cheeks, hands clasped close to her heart.

Nene did not notice. Not even a little.

She leaned close to Rui instead, whispering, “I brought my gift. For Tsukasa.”

Rui’s eyes widened. “You brought— what kind?”

Nene gave a tiny smile. “The valuable kind.”

Rui’s eyes sparkled like fireworks going off inside them.

Mizuki elbowed Akito. “Did you see that? That was the face of a man who saw the sun for the first time.”

Akito snorted. “More like the face of someone who realized they can one-up everyone else’s birthday gift.”

Rui turned around with a chillingly sweet smile.
Both of them shut up immediately.

Everything was almost ready.

Cake on the table.
Paper decorations halfway hanging (some crooked thanks to Mizuki).
A garland Emu made shaped like little chibi Tsukasa heads.
And the living room dimly lit with lanterns.

Everyone stepped back to admire their work.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was warm. Lively. Colorful.
It looked like celebration.

And that was something Tsukasa had never gotten.

Rui felt a small, warm tug in his chest.

Then—

Footsteps creaked onto the porch.

Heavy, familiar footsteps.

Everyone froze.

Rui’s eyes widened. “He’s early— hide!”

Mizuki dove behind the couch.
Akito rolled under the table.
Emu hid behind the door.
Nene calmly stepped behind a curtain like she had rehearsed it.

Rui blew out the lanterns except for one.

Then stood very, very still.

The doorknob turned.

Tsukasa stepped inside.

“…Rui? Why is it dark? And why does it smell like frosting?”

And everyone held their breath.

Chapter Text

The door creaked open, and Tsukasa stepped inside, confused, tired from training, sweat-damp hair sticking to his forehead. “Rui? Why is it so—”

The lanterns burst to life all at once.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, TSUKASA!!~”

Confetti exploded. Emu practically screamed. Mizuki threw glitter like she was blessing a newly crowned king. Akito flinched at the noise but still yelled half-heartedly. Nene simply clapped once, elegant and composed. And Rui—Rui stood in the center holding a small candle, smiling softly, heart pounding so hard he was sure it could be heard.

Tsukasa froze.

His eyes swept the decorations, the homemade garlands, the messy streamers, the slightly tilted banner that read “HAPPY BIRTHDAY, OUR KNIGHT!!” in Emu’s handwriting. Then he stared at the cake, at the table set with little treats they all prepared together.

Then he stared at them.
All of them.
For a long, silent moment.

His throat bobbed. His eyes shimmered. His breath hitched.

And then—
He actually started crying.

Not loudly, not dramatically—just quietly, tears slipping down his cheeks as his lips trembled into the softest, brightest smile Rui had ever seen.

Emu squealed so sharply she startled Mizuki. “HE’S SMILING!! LIKE—REALLY SMILING!!”

Akito immediately turned away, muttering, “Nope. Nope. Not seeing that. Too intimate.”

Mizuki covered their mouth with both hands, whispering, “I swear on all fashion gods—I wish Ena were here to DRAW THIS—this expression is art—this could hang in a museum for a thousand years—!!”

Nene stared with round eyes, expression unreadable but obviously affected.

And Rui—

Rui almost passed out.

His legs actually buckled, and he had to catch himself on the table. Because Tsukasa’s smile wasn’t just bright. It wasn’t just grateful. It was pure, raw happiness—radiant, almost childlike, the kind of smile someone gives when they receive something they never expected anyone to give them.

Tsukasa wiped his face quickly. “Y-You… all this… for me…?”

“Of course!” Emu chirped. “It’s your special day!”

“And you deserve a party,” Mizuki added proudly. “Even if Rui microwaved the frosting by accident.”

“It was one time,” Rui murmured.

Akito shoved his hands in his pockets. “Just… don’t cry again, man. My head hurts.”

Tsukasa actually laughed. A breathy, stunned sound. “I… don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” Rui said softly. “Just enjoy it.”

Tsukasa looked like he wanted to argue, but instead, he gave a small nod and took a shaky breath. “Then… let’s enjoy it.”

They gathered around the table, and Emu shoved her present forward first: a hand-sewn plushie of Tsukasa in his knight armor, complete with star-shaped buttons. Tsukasa hugged it to his chest immediately, ears flaming red.

Akito gave him a small wooden charm carved with the symbol of the palace training grounds. “It’s supposed to bring luck to knights. Don’t lose it.”

Mizuki gifted a pair of earrings shaped like tiny swords. “Fashionable and fierce. Just like you—sometimes.”

Tsukasa blushed so hard he hid behind the plushie.

Then Rui stepped forward.

“Mine comes later,” he said, smiling mysteriously. “Nene and I have something to give you together.”

Tsukasa blinked, confused but curious, and everyone leaned in, sensing the shift in energy.

Nene stepped up beside Rui, straightening her posture with royal confidence. “Tsukasa.”

He stiffened a little—habits from childhood never fully dying—but Nene’s voice was gentle, almost warm. “Your gift… is not something small.” She glanced at Rui. “We prepared this because we believed it was time.”

Rui nodded once.

The entire room fell silent.

Even Emu stopped sparkling.

Mizuki froze mid-glitter toss.

Akito looked between them like he expected a political revelation.

Tsukasa swallowed. “A… surprise?”

Rui stepped closer, gently taking Tsukasa’s hand.

“Yes,” he murmured. “A very important one.”

And Nene looked at him with steady eyes.

“Tsukasa… it’s about your sister.”

The candlelight flickered.

Tsukasa’s breath caught.

And the real surprise began.

Chapter Text

Tsukasa stared at Nene as if the world had suddenly tilted. The room felt too still, too quiet, the warm candlelight suddenly sharp against his eyes. Nene kept her hands neatly folded in front of her, regal but gentle. Rui stood close beside Tsukasa, his fingers brushing Tsukasa’s knuckles in silent reassurance. Tsukasa swallowed, voice barely a breath. “My… sister?”

Nene nodded once. “Yes. Saki.” That name alone made Tsukasa’s knees nearly buckle. Akito straightened, Mizuki’s eyes widened in shock, and Emu froze with her hands clasped in front of her mouth. Nene continued, her voice soft but heavy with meaning. “I haven’t found her exact location yet. But I have… information. Reliable information.” Rui squeezed Tsukasa’s hand, urging him to breathe. Nene stepped forward. “Saki is alive. She has been seen in the Dark Kingdom within the last year. Not as a prisoner. Not harmed. She is… well.”

Tsukasa’s eyes instantly filled with tears.

He didn’t cry loudly—just a sudden rush of tears that slid down his cheeks uncontrollably, as if the simple confirmation of Saki’s survival struck him with more force than any sword ever could. He covered his mouth with his free hand, shoulders trembling. Rui immediately stepped closer, arms circling Tsukasa protectively from the side, pulling him into his chest. Tsukasa didn’t resist; he collapsed into the embrace, fingers gripping Rui’s sleeve tightly.

Emu whispered, “Tsukasa-kun…” Mizuki actually softened, glitter forgotten for once. Akito looked away, jaw tight, clearly feeling the weight of the moment but trying to give Tsukasa some dignity.

Tsukasa tried to speak, voice breaking. “She… she’s alive… my sister… she’s—” Rui stroked his back gently, whispering, “She is. She really is.” Nene bowed her head. “I will continue searching. Now that I know where to look, it will not take long.”

Tsukasa wiped at his eyes, still trembling. “Thank you… thank you so much…” Nene simply answered, “You’re Rui’s husband. It’s only right that I help.” Then her gaze flickered to Emu—who was staring at her like she’d witnessed love at first sight—and Nene awkwardly looked away.

Tsukasa pulled back slightly, just enough to look at Rui. His expression was raw, overwhelmed, grateful, full of a depth of emotion Rui had never seen with such intensity. “You… knew?” Rui swallowed. “I suspected. After you told me about your past… I couldn’t just sit and do nothing.” Tsukasa stared at him as if Rui had gifted him the sun itself. Rui smiled gently. “Happy birthday, Tsukasa. I wanted to give you hope.”

Tsukasa suddenly leaned forward and hugged Rui tightly again, burying his face into Rui’s shoulder. Rui blinked in surprise but immediately wrapped his arms around him. The others quietly stepped back to give them space, even Emu recognizing the tenderness of the moment.

Mizuki whispered behind Akito’s shoulder, “Awww, this is adorable… I should’ve brought extra glitter, I could’ve made it magical.” Akito elbowed them.

Rui lowered his head, whispering into Tsukasa’s ear. “You’re not alone anymore, love.” Tsukasa’s arms tightened. “Thank you… thank you, Rui… thank you…”

Nene finally cleared her throat softly. “I will send another message as soon as I know more.” Rui and Tsukasa pulled apart slowly, Tsukasa wiping his cheeks with the sleeve of Rui’s robe. Rui quietly murmured, “You don’t need to hide tears, you know.” Tsukasa sniffed but nodded.

Emu suddenly burst into sparkles. “THEN LET’S CELEBRATE THE REST OF YOUR BIRTHDAY WITH SMILES!” Tsukasa startled at the sudden volume, jumping slightly, and Rui chuckled under his breath. Mizuki pressed a hand dramatically to their forehead. “Every time she screams, an angel loses a feather.” Akito grumbled, “My head hurts again…”

Tsukasa let out a small, shaky laugh—barely there, but real. Rui looked at him with such fondness he nearly melted on the spot. “Let’s finish the celebration,” Tsukasa said quietly, voice steadier than before. Rui slipped his hand into Tsukasa’s again, and Tsukasa actually held it tightly in return. They rejoined the others at the table. Emu insisted on lighting the candles again “to reset the mood,” Mizuki kept whispering about how this was the most dramatic birthday ever, Akito mumbled something about needing strong tea, and Nene quietly observed everything with a tiny smile hiding at the corner of her lips.

Tsukasa sat surrounded by people who truly cared for him—something he hadn’t felt since he was a child. Rui leaned close and whispered, “You deserve all of this.” Tsukasa pressed his forehead to Rui’s temple for a brief, grateful moment. “Because of you… I can actually believe that.”

The celebration resumed with warmth, laughter, and Tsukasa’s heart finally feeling lighter than it had in years.

Chapter Text

The cottage was quiet again after the surprise party ended, the warm orange glow of lanterns flickering gently around the room. Confetti still clung to the floorboards, streamers drooped from the ceiling, and half-melted candles lined the table. Rui and Tsukasa worked side by side to clean it all up, folding banners, picking up stray ribbons, and returning furniture to its place. Neither spoke much; they didn’t need to. The soft silence between them was full, peaceful, heavy with leftover emotion from the day.

Tsukasa reached up to remove the final string of decorations and froze halfway through, his hands lowering slowly. Without warning, he stepped toward Rui and wrapped his arms around him—firm, full, unguarded. Rui blinked in surprise before melting into the embrace, arms sliding around Tsukasa’s waist. Tsukasa pressed his forehead against Rui’s shoulder, exhaling shakily. “Thank you,” he whispered. “For… everything today.”

Rui smiled, fingers brushing soothingly along Tsukasa’s back. “Anything for you, my chevalier.” Tsukasa tightened his hold briefly before pulling back just enough to look at Rui. Rui examined his face—still a little flushed from crying earlier, but his eyes clearer, warmer.

Then Rui tilted his head. “Tsukasa… how old are you, anyway?” Tsukasa stared at him flatly, then narrowed his eyes. “You should not ask that.” Rui blinked, legitimately confused. “Why not?” Tsukasa crossed his arms. “It is impolite.” Rui huffed. “Then I’ll tell you mine too, to make it even.”

Tsukasa gave him a suspicious side-eye. “…Hmph. Fine. I am… thirty-five.” Rui brightened. “Oh! Then we’re the same age. I’ll be turning thirty-five next month.” Tsukasa perked up instantly. “Then I will prepare a party for you as well.” Rui’s eyes lit up like fireworks. “Oh? A party made by my beloved husband?” Tsukasa rolled his eyes but leaned forward and kissed Rui’s cheek gently. “Of course.”

He turned away toward the hallway. “I will wash up, then go to bed.” Rui floated after him without hesitation, cloak brushing the air like a shadow. “Then I’ll bathe with you.” Tsukasa shrugged, casual. “That’s fine.”

Rui nearly tripped over his own feet at how calmly Tsukasa agreed.

Steam drifted into the hallway as the bath filled. Tsukasa undressed with matter-of-fact ease, stepping into the warm water and letting out a deep sigh that loosened the tension in his shoulders. Rui shed his cloak and jewelry, tying his hair back with a ribbon before slipping into the bath beside Tsukasa. The water rippled gently, warm and comforting, the dim lighting making everything feel soft.

For a moment they simply soaked, Tsukasa resting his head back against the wooden edge while Rui floated lazily on the surface, leaning his shoulder against Tsukasa’s. Finally, Rui spoke in a low voice. “You were very calm about this.” Tsukasa gave him a sidelong glance. “About what?” “Bathing together,” Rui murmured. “You didn’t blush. Or sputter. Or push me away.”

Tsukasa shrugged lightly, water rippling. “I wanted to be close to you tonight.” Rui’s heart did an impressive flip. “…Oh.” Tsukasa didn’t elaborate. He didn’t need to. Instead he shifted closer, resting his head gently against Rui’s shoulder. Rui tensed for a second before relaxing, lifting an arm to loosely wrap around Tsukasa’s back.

Tsukasa exhaled and whispered, “It was a good birthday.” Rui felt his chest tighten in that warm, overwhelming way he hadn’t quite figured out how to verbalize. “I’m glad.” Tsukasa hummed softly, eyes half-lidded. Rui brushed his knuckles over Tsukasa’s cheek, gentle and slow. “You look tired.” “I am.”

Rui leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Tsukasa’s temple. “Then let me wash your hair.” Tsukasa blinked, surprised, but nodded. Rui shifted behind him, gently massaging Tsukasa’s scalp with warm water, fingers brushing through soft orange hair with careful tenderness. Tsukasa closed his eyes, head subconsciously leaning back into Rui’s touch.

When Rui finished, Tsukasa turned around to face him again, looking relaxed in a way Rui rarely saw. “Thank you,” he murmured. Rui smiled faintly. “Anything for you.”

They stayed in the warm, quiet bath a little longer, sharing soft touches and comfortable silence. When they finally stepped out, Rui wrapped Tsukasa in a towel, dried his hair with magic that felt like warm air, then helped him to bed. Tsukasa crawled under the blanket and tugged Rui down beside him without hesitation. Rui blinked again—Tsukasa was usually more restrained—but obeyed happily.

Tsukasa tucked his face into Rui’s chest, arms slipping around Rui’s waist. “Stay,” he whispered. Rui hugged him close. “Always.”

They fell asleep like that—warm, safe, and closer than they had ever been.

Chapter Text

The next morning began softly, almost deceptively peaceful. Sunlight filtered through the curtains in pale golden streaks, warming the wooden floor and brushing over the tangled blankets on the bed. Rui woke first, blinking slowly as he registered Tsukasa curled firmly against him, face buried in Rui’s chest, breath warm and steady.

For a few long minutes, Rui simply stayed there, brushing his fingers through Tsukasa’s hair with slow, absent motions. It felt perfect. Quiet. Safe.

Too safe.

Because the world had a habit of breaking peace the moment Rui dared to believe in it.

Tsukasa stirred, stretching with a light groan before blinking awake. “…Rui?” His voice was rough. Rui smiled. “Good morning.” Tsukasa hummed sleepily and nuzzled closer before remembering he was awake and pulled back with an embarrassed cough. Rui only laughed softly.

The morning routine was normal—Tsukasa cooking breakfast while Rui brewed tea, both moving in an easy rhythm they’d slipped into without realizing. But something hung in the air. A slight tension. Rui noticed it first: Tsukasa kept glancing out the window between tasks, shoulders a little too stiff, eyes too sharp for someone who claimed he was still half-asleep.

“Tsukasa?” Rui finally asked, setting two cups of tea on the table. “Is something wrong?”

Tsukasa paused, hand stilling mid-motion. “…No.” But his voice carried a brittle note.

Rui opened his mouth to press further—
but the sound of pounding footsteps and desperate knocking at the cottage door cut him off.

Both froze.

A second later, Mizuki’s panicked voice rang out, trembling and breathless, “Rui! Tsukasa! Open the door—now!”

Tsukasa lunged to it immediately, throwing it open.

Mizuki stumbled inside, flushed, gasping for air, hair messy, still wearing their training clothes. Akito was right behind them, pale and stressed. Mizuki grabbed Tsukasa’s sleeves. “Something happened.” Their voice cracked.

Tsukasa stiffened. “What?”

Mizuki swallowed hard.
“It’s the barrier.”

Rui’s breath stopped.

Akito stepped forward, jaw clenched tight. “The border between the kingdoms—there’s been a disturbance. A big one. They sent scouts to investigate and—”

“And what?” Tsukasa demanded.

Akito hesitated, as if afraid to deliver the blow.
“…They found traces of dark magic inside the Light Kingdom’s side.”

Rui felt the blood drain from his face.

Mizuki looked at Rui with wide, apologetic eyes. “They think it’s a spy. Someone crossing illegally. Someone who’s been slipping past the barrier for days.”

Akito swallowed. “…And they think it might be you, Rui.”

The room fell silent.

Tsukasa froze entirely, disbelief and fury colliding in his expression. “What? He—he would never—!”

But Rui went completely, utterly still.

It made sense. He’d been searching near the border every day. Too close. Too often. Sometimes teleporting without thinking about the magical residue he left behind. He hadn’t been careful. He had been reckless.

And now the kingdom suspected him of treason.

Mizuki wrung their hands anxiously. “We came here first because the guards will start searching for you soon. They’re not planning on arresting you yet, but—they want to question you. They think you’ve been meeting with someone in secret.”

Tsukasa snapped, “That’s absurd! Rui doesn’t—”

Rui interrupted quietly, “They’re not wrong to think it.”

Tsukasa whipped toward him, eyes wide, betrayed. “Rui—?”

Rui exhaled shakily. “I did go near the border. Many times. I didn’t think I left enough magic behind, but… I should have realized.”

Tsukasa stared at him, every emotion crashing together at once—fear, anger, confusion, heartbreak. “Why… why would you say that so calmly?”

“Because it’s the truth.” Rui whispered.

The air thickened. Tsukasa looked like the floor had disappeared beneath him.

Akito stepped closer carefully. “We came to warn you first. If the Light Kingdom formally accuses you, you’ll be in danger. You need to leave the cottage soon, before—”

A sharp sound outside cut him off.
Hoofbeats.
Clanking armor.

Approaching fast.

Mizuki’s face drained of color. “Oh no—oh no, no, no—they’re already here—!”

Tsukasa’s instincts kicked in immediately. “Rui. Go. Now.”

Rui didn’t move. “I won’t run.”

“Rui!” Tsukasa grabbed his shoulders hard. “Listen to me. You can’t let them take you somewhere without me—!”

From outside came a commanding shout:
“Open the door! This is the Light Kingdom Guard! We request audience with the mage Rui Kamishiro for questioning!”

Tsukasa’s grip tightened, knuckles going white. “Rui, please—just teleport away until I fix this—”

Rui lifted a hand and cupped Tsukasa’s cheek gently. “If I run now, they’ll assume the worst. And you will be punished alongside me.”

Tsukasa froze.

Rui stepped closer, lowering his forehead to Tsukasa’s. “I won’t put you at risk. Not again.”

Heavy footsteps approached the door.

Mizuki whispered, trembling, “Rui…”

Rui took a slow breath.
Straightened his spine.
And stepped away from Tsukasa.

“I will face them.”

Tsukasa’s face cracked open in silent fear.

Rui gave him the softest smile he could manage. “Trust me, Tsukasa.”

Then he turned toward the door just as the guards pounded again, harder this time.

Tsukasa reached out instinctively—
but Rui had already taken another step away, placing himself between Tsukasa and the danger outside.

The moment Rui rested his hand on the doorknob, Tsukasa whispered—softly, but with a tinge of trust despite his next words—
“Rui… don’t leave me.”

Rui closed his eyes.

And opened the door.

Chapter Text

The moment Rui opened the door, a line of armored knights stood in formation on the porch, sunlight glinting off their polished breastplates. Their captain stepped forward, visor raised, expression firm but not unkind. “Rui Kamishiro,” he said formally, “by decree of the Light Kingdom’s Council, you are to come with us for questioning regarding unauthorized magical activity near the border.” His voice carried authority, but not hostility. Rui bowed his head slightly in acknowledgment. “I understand.”

Behind him, Tsukasa moved before he even realized it, practically shoving Mizuki and Akito aside to get to Rui’s side. “Then I’m coming with him.” His voice shook. The captain shook his head. “Only the accused is required.” Tsukasa growled, “He’s not accused of anything—!” Rui touched Tsukasa’s arm gently, silencing him. “Tsukasa… please.” That one word—soft, pleading—cracked something in Tsukasa’s chest. He clenched his fists but didn’t pull away.

Mizuki whispered urgently from behind, “Rui, be careful… they’re not all as calm as this bunch.” Akito nodded, jaw tight. “If anything goes wrong, we’ll step in.” Rui offered them a reassuring smile that fooled none of them. “I will be fine.”

But Tsukasa’s eyes said he didn’t believe that for a second.

The knights stepped back to give Rui space to exit the cottage. As he walked forward, Tsukasa followed like his body refused to stay behind. When Rui reached the final step of the porch, Tsukasa finally grabbed his hand in a desperate, trembling hold. “Don’t go.” Rui turned to him fully, gently threading their fingers together. “I’ll be back,” he whispered. “I promise.”

Tsukasa’s voice cracked. “You can’t promise that.”

Rui leaned forward, resting his forehead against Tsukasa’s just for a heartbeat. “Then I’ll do more than promise. I will fight, plead, and bargain my way back to you. No kingdom will keep me away.” Tsukasa shut his eyes tight, breath shuddering. But he slowly let Rui’s hand go.

The captain motioned, and two knights stepped up to flank Rui. Not chaining him. Not touching him. Just guiding. It helped Tsukasa breathe—barely.

As Rui descended the final step, Tsukasa whispered under his breath, “If they hurt him… I’ll burn the entire kingdom to the ground.” Mizuki blinked. “Wow. Rui might actually marry you again hearing that.” Akito muttered, “Not helping.”

Rui climbed into the carriage waiting outside, the knights closing the door behind him. Through the small window, Tsukasa met Rui’s eyes one last time—violet and blue locking desperately, silently. Rui gave the smallest smile. Tsukasa’s heart broke wide open.

The carriage rolled away.

Tsukasa stood frozen until it disappeared behind the trees, and only then did his knees buckle. Mizuki caught him with a gasp. “Tsukasa—!” Tsukasa shoved himself upright, breathing harshly. “I—I have to follow them. I have to—” Akito grabbed his arm. “You can’t! If you interfere, it’ll make Rui look guilty.” Tsukasa trembled violently. “I can’t just sit here while they take him!”

Mizuki bit their lip. “We’ll figure something out. But if you storm after them, it’ll be worse.” Tsukasa pressed his palms into his eyes, breathing raggedly. Rui’s warmth was still on his skin. His scent still on Tsukasa’s clothes. His magic still lingering faintly in the air. And now he was gone.

Inside the carriage, Rui kept his back straight, hands folded in his lap as the knights sat across from him. He tried to appear calm, dignified, cooperative. But his heart was pounding painfully, not out of fear for himself— but for Tsukasa. He knew Tsukasa. The man would tear down mountains and armies if he believed Rui was in danger. Rui’s fingers twitched nervously. Please, Tsukasa… stay safe. For once, stay safe.

Back at the cottage, Tsukasa suddenly shot toward the door. “I’m going to the palace grounds.” Akito chased after him. “You can’t—!” “I’m not interfering!” Tsukasa snapped. “I’m going to demand to be heard. As a knight. As—” His voice faltered. Mizuki caught up. “As his husband,” she finished softly. Tsukasa swallowed hard. “Yes.”

They ran after him.

Meanwhile, Rui’s carriage came to a stop at the palace. Knights formed a shielded line as Rui was escorted inside. A handful of nobles watched with curious, wary eyes. Rui held his head high even as whispers followed him.

The council chamber waited ahead.

Back on the training grounds, Tsukasa stormed in, breathless, hair disheveled, eyes wild. The Commander blinked at him. “Tsukasa? What in the Light’s name—?” “I need an audience with the council,” Tsukasa demanded. “Now.” The Commander frowned. “This is about the mage, isn’t it?” Tsukasa exhaled sharply. “He is innocent.”

“Then you have nothing to worry about,” the Commander said calmly. “They are questioning him only to determine the truth. He will not be harmed.” Tsukasa’s voice cracked, “That’s not good enough.”

At the same moment, Rui stood before the council table. “Rui Kamishiro,” one councilor said, fingers steepled, “our scouts found traces of your magic across the Light Kingdom’s border. We require an explanation.” Rui exhaled slowly. “…I was searching for someone precious to someone I care for deeply.” “A Light Kingdom citizen?” a councilor pressed. Rui nodded once.

Tsukasa.

“And who is this citizen?” Rui hesitated—but told the truth. “Saki Tenma.” A ripple of shock spread around the room.

Back outside, Tsukasa felt a sudden, sharp dread coil in his stomach, as if Rui were uttering something vulnerable in a room full of wolves.

Inside the chamber, one councilor narrowed her eyes. “You are aware that crossing the border without sanction is a serious crime?” Rui’s throat tightened. “…Yes.” “And yet you did so anyway?” Rui hesitated again, then said the words that made half the council lean forward with dangerous interest:
“I would do it again.”

Outside, Tsukasa froze mid-step, eyes widening as if he’d heard it through the walls.

Back in the chamber, the councilors whispered to one another. The head councilor stood. “Rui Kamishiro. Until we investigate further, you are to be placed under supervised containment within the palace.”

Rui stiffened. “Detained?”

“Comfortably. But yes.”

Rui’s heart dropped.

Back on the grounds, Tsukasa suddenly sprinted toward the palace doors. The Commander shouted after him, but Tsukasa didn’t stop. Akito and Mizuki chased him, panicked.

Guards intercepted Tsukasa, crossing spears to block his path.

“Let me through!” Tsukasa shouted, eyes burning. “Rui—!”

“Tsukasa Tenma,” a knight said grimly, “Rui Kamishiro has been detained for further questioning.”

Tsukasa went pale.
Then furious.
Then devastated all at once.

“Rui,” he whispered, voice breaking.

Inside the palace walls, Rui closed his eyes as guards escorted him away, deeper into the labyrinth of halls.

Chapter Text

Rui sat on the edge of the guest-room bed the council had assigned him—detained but comfortable, they’d said. It felt more like a gilded cage, with guards rotating outside the door every two hours, their armor clattering like a constant reminder of his captivity. He rested his head against the cool stone wall and exhaled. “Tsukasa must be losing his mind…” he murmured. And that hurt more than the confinement.

The door opened slightly. Rui stiffened—until a familiar pink head peeked in.
“Ruiiiiii!~” Emu whisper-sang as she slipped inside and shut the door behind her. Rui blinked. “…Princess. What are you doing here?” She puffed her cheeks. “You’re locked in a castle! I’m not gonna ignore that! Also you promised Tsukasa you’d come back and you didn’t, so he’s really sad! That means I am really sad! And then Nene is annoyed because now she has to do sneaky business alone!” Rui pinched the bridge of his nose. “I didn’t choose to be detained, Emu.”
“I know! That’s why I’m here to help!”

Emu sat beside him, swinging her legs. Rui sighed. “Emu… could you ask Mizuki and Akito to meet Nene at the border? There’s information she needs. And she must know—she must know that I can’t come anymore.” Emu nodded seriously. “Okay. I’ll ask them to go tonight.” Rui hesitated, then leaned forward slightly. “And Emu… please don’t tell Tsukasa. He’ll try to break me out.”
Emu raised a brow. “And that would be bad because…?”
“…because he will get arrested.”
“Oh.”
A beat.
“Yeah that’s bad.”

She saluted dramatically and slipped out again, leaving Rui alone with the faintest hope.

Later that evening, Mizuki and Akito met at the border under heavy cloaks, the wind sharp with northern cold. Mizuki sighed dramatically. “Why does Rui need us to meet at the border? I could be in a hot bath right now.”
Akito scoffed. “Because someone got himself detained for border-hopping. Don’t complain.”
Mizuki smirked. “You’re only here because you care.”
“I DON’T—”
Mizuki patted his shoulder. “There, there. Feelings are scary.”

They reached the arranged meeting point—and froze.

Tsukasa was already there.

Talking to Nene.

Akito slapped a hand over his face. “Great. Fantastic. Perfect. Now all three of us are risking our jobs as high-ranking knights.”
Mizuki happily waved and shouted, “Hiiiii Tsukasaaa~! We’re committing mutual treason this evening!”
Akito hissed, “WHY would you announce that?!”
“Because it’s fun,” Mizuki chirped.

Tsukasa turned sharply at the sound of their voices, eyes wide, hair windruffled, expression a wild mix of exhaustion and frantic hope. “Why are you two here? Did something happen? Is Rui—” He stopped himself, breath catching.

Nene stepped aside with a neutral expression. “…You weren’t supposed to see me again yet, Tenma.”
Tsukasa’s eyes flicked to her dark colors, her cloak, her insignia. “You’re the Princess of the Dark Kingdom.”
“Yes.”
“You know about Saki.”
“Yes.”

A long silence.

Mizuki tugged their cloak tighter. “Sooo… since we’re all here, should we—oh I dunno—talk?”
Akito muttered, “Yeah. Might as well.”

Nene looked to Mizuki and Akito. “I’m assuming Rui sent you.”
They nodded.
Tsukasa’s jaw tightened. “…Rui sent you? Not me?”
Mizuki blinked. “Tsukasa, you’re the one who immediately freaks out when Rui isn’t home for ten minutes. Rui probably thought you’d sprint into the council chamber screaming. Again”
Tsukasa flushed. “I—would not—”
Akito raised a brow. “You literally did.”
Tsukasa opened his mouth. Closed it. “…Shut up.”

Nene crossed her arms. “Rui is detained. I learned that from you two the moment you panicked your way over here.”
Tsukasa stiffened violently and visibly. “He’s… what?”
Akito groaned. “Great. You didn’t know.”
Mizuki lightly smacked the back of Akito’s head. “Shut up! He’s about to cry!”
Tsukasa’s breathing turned shallow. “Why didn’t he tell me?”
Nene softened slightly. “Probably because his detainment is temporary. He didn’t want you doing something stupid.”
Tsukasa whispered, “…I would have.”

Nene sighed through her nose. “Anyway. I found her.”
Three heads snapped toward her.
“Saki.”
Tsukasa nearly collapsed.

Mizuki gently grabbed his elbow to steady him while Akito stared with wide eyes.

“She’s alive,” Nene confirmed. “And she is… willing to meet you.”
Tsukasa covered his mouth with his hand, tears filling his eyes before he could stop them. Mizuki made a soft sound. Akito looked away, giving him space.

Nene continued, “I planned to bring her to Rui first, but since Rui is detained, I will escort her myself to the Light Kingdom border.”
Tsukasa shook his head fiercely. “No. Rui wanted—”
“I know,” Nene cut in. “But Rui also asked me to prioritize your safety. And right now? You are not safe to leave the kingdom.”

Tsukasa clenched his jaw. He didn’t argue—because even he knew she was right.
But the pain on his face was unmistakable.

Mizuki sighed. “Well… at least Rui will be happy knowing this.”
Akito nodded. “We should tell him. Somehow.”
Tsukasa swallowed. “I’ll go to the palace tomorrow,” he whispered. “I’ll demand permission to see him.”

Nene raised a brow. “And risk making the council suspicious?”
Tsukasa trembled. “I don’t care.”
Mizuki placed a hand over Tsukasa’s, squeezing lightly. “You’re gonna see him. Calm down. Rui’s not going to vanish from the castle.”

For a moment, Tsukasa didn’t breathe.

Then, softly—
“…I miss him.”

Nene looked down at her boots, tone quieter. “Then be patient. Rui’s trying to protect you, Tenma.”

Tsukasa closed his eyes.

“I know.”

The night wind blew around them, carrying the cold scent of two kingdoms and the threads binding them all—fear, hope, risk, treason, love.

And somewhere in the castle, Rui felt a sudden warmth coil in his magic—a flicker of Tsukasa’s presence tugging at him from afar.

Chapter Text

The court chamber was quieter than usual, draped in banners of white and gold, the air thick with judgment and restraint. Rui stood calmly in the center of the polished hall, hands neatly folded behind his back, monocle glinting faintly in the torchlight. Nobles whispered. Advisors leaned close. Scrolls were unfurled. Words like “no casualties,” “no destabilization,” and “continued peace” echoed softly between stone walls.

Finally, the High Councilor lifted their staff.
“Rui Kamishiro. After investigation, we find no evidence of treason, harm, or disruption serious enough to warrant detainment. You are hereby released.”

Rui blinked once. Then smiled. “How merciful.”

Another voice followed immediately. “However, for formality’s sake, you will be escorted from the palace by a Knight of the White Guard.”
A pause.
“Your husband; Chief Chevalier Tenma Tsukasa will serve as that escort.”

Tsukasa marched through the inner corridor with practiced, controlled steps, hand resting loosely near his sword. His expression was neutral—always neutral. He’d been ordered to escort a “special guest.” He assumed it would be some noble, or perhaps a visiting envoy.

The heavy doors opened.

Rui stood there.

Alive. Unhurt. Smiling.

Tsukasa completely lost his mind.

In one smooth, utterly un-knightlike move, he dropped his composure, crossed the space, and launched himself at Rui, arms wrapping around his neck, face pressed immediately to Rui’s cheeks and lips in a flurry of frantic, breathless kisses. “You’re here, you’re here, you’re here—! I missed you so much, you absolute idiot—!”

The nearby knights froze. Then slowly side-eyed each other.

Rui, stunned for exactly half a heartbeat, melted instantly, arms wrapping around Tsukasa’s waist to steady him. “My, my… how warm of a welcome. I want you terribly, you know.”

Dead silence.

Every knight’s expression shifted to: Oh? Is this allowed?

Tsukasa snapped his head around so fast they flinched. “He did not mean that in a dirty way. You are all disgustingly perverted for thinking that.”

The knights coughed. One cleared their throat. Another looked at the ceiling.

Rui, still holding Tsukasa like gravity had lost its meaning, sighed dreamily. “Oh, I missed my wife.”

Muffled laughter immediately broke out across the hall. Knights turned away, hands over mouths, shoulders shaking.

Tsukasa stared at Rui.

He did not comment.

He did not correct him.

He simply pulled Rui closer and hugged him tighter. “We’re going home.”

Rui’s expression softened in a way only Tsukasa ever saw.

Their cottage smelled faintly of herbs and old warmth when they returned. Tsukasa loosened his gloves and moved straight toward the kitchen, back straight, expression stoic again—but the sharp edge was gone. It had softened. Smoothed. Warmed.

“I will make your favorite dish,” Tsukasa said, already reaching for ingredients. “Without vegetables.”

Rui gasped theatrically from behind him and immediately slid close, arms wrapping around Tsukasa’s waist from behind, chin resting lightly against his shoulder. “You remembered.”

“I always remember.”

Rui leaned closer, watching Tsukasa’s hands work—steady, skilled, careful. He pressed small kisses to the side of Tsukasa’s neck, then his cheek, soft and languid, like he was afraid Tsukasa might disappear if he let go.

Tsukasa paused, knife hovering in mid-air. “…Why are you doing this?”

Rui tilted his head slightly and smiled. “Because you’re wearing the apron.”

Tsukasa glanced down at the blue fabric stretched across his chest.
Kiss the cook.

A faint blush touched his ears. “…I missed this,” he whispered.

Rui froze.

Then, without a word, he leaned in again—pressing gentle kisses along Tsukasa’s jaw, cheek, and temple, slower now, quieter, full of something real and fragile and warm.

He didn’t tease.
He didn’t joke.

He just held Tsukasa like he was home.

Chapter Text

Morning arrived quietly, pale light slipping through thin curtains and resting softly along the worn wooden walls of the cottage. The air was still, warm with the remnants of last night’s fire and the faint scent of herbs that Rui always tucked into the window frames. Tsukasa woke first, as he nearly always did.

He didn’t move right away.

Rui lay beside him, turned slightly onto his side, hair a dark spill across the pillow, lashes casting faint shadows against pale skin. Tsukasa let out a slow breath without realizing he’d been holding it. His muscles loosened, just a fraction, as he stared up at the ceiling instead of rising like a knight should, like a commander should.

He keeps throwing himself into danger, Tsukasa thought.

Not in the sharp, irritated way he usually thought things. This was quieter. Heavier. Tinged with fear.

Border crossings. Letters sent in secret. Talking to dangerous people just to find someone I lost…

He clenched his jaw.

Before marriage, before softness, before this ordinary quiet—Rui had nearly died. More than once. Blades through his back. Stakes in town squares. Blood on stone. And it hadn’t stopped. It had only changed shape.

All because of him.

Tsukasa rolled onto his side slowly and finally looked at Rui.

Not as a sorcerer. Not as an enemy. Not even as his husband, in that simple, domestic way he’d grown used to.

He looked at him like a man in love.

Rui’s hair caught the morning light, soft instead of wild. His mouth was relaxed in sleep—far gentler than when he laughed, or taunted, or whispered dangerously close to Tsukasa’s ear. The faint line of a scar crossed his collarbone, just barely visible where the blanket had slipped.

I want to protect this kindness.

The thought surprised him with its clarity.

But it was followed by another, sharper one.

And yet… I wish you wouldn’t run headfirst into fire just to keep me warm.

His fingers twitched, resisting the urge to reach out.

Quietly, barely above a breath, he whispered, “I want to be someone who can protect you too… not just someone you keep saving.” His voice cracked before he could stop it. “…Have I ever shown you I’d do the same? Have I ever been enough?”

Silence.

Tsukasa frowned.

He shifted again, scowling faintly. Another thought surfaced, sour and heavy.

I know nothing about him.

Not his childhood. Not his family. Not what shaped that strange, lonely kindness. Not who had hurt him, or who had left him behind. Tsukasa had poured his own wounds into Rui’s hands, and Rui had caught every single one without hesitation.

But Rui?

He’d never asked.

And maybe that made him a coward.

Rui cracked one eye open.

“I wasn’t sleeping,” Rui said calmly, voice still thick with morning warmth.

Tsukasa shot upright like he’d been struck by lightning. “You deceptive—! Why are you awake and pretending to sleep?! That’s— that’s not normal behavior!”

Rui chuckled softly and, before Tsukasa could scramble away, hooked an arm around his waist and dragged him right back down, effectively trapping him against his chest. “You looked like you were about to confess a crime,” he murmured, breath warm against Tsukasa’s hair.

“I was thinking,” Tsukasa grumbled, stiff as a board.

“Dangerous habit.”

Tsukasa tried to pull away. Rui only tightened his hold, fingers threading gently into the back of his tunic. “You were staring at me like I might vanish if you blinked,” Rui whispered.

“…I was not.”

“You were.”

Tsukasa huffed, then went still, the tension bleeding slowly from his shoulders. “…I realized something.”

Rui tilted his head slightly. “Oh?”

“I don’t know anything about you,” Tsukasa said more honestly than he’d planned, voice low. “Not your past. Not your family. Not… what made you into someone so stupidly brave.”

Rui’s grip softened.

Tsukasa swallowed. “You’ve nearly died for me more times than I can count. You keep throwing yourself at danger for my sake, for my sister’s sake, for things I barely deserve.” His brows knit. “I don’t like it. I’m afraid of it.”

A pause.

“…And I don’t like that I don’t even know who I’m afraid of losing.”

The words hung quietly between them.

Then Rui’s other eye opened fully.

There was no teasing in his gaze now. No mischief. No magic.

Just warmth. And something fragile.

He shifted, pulling Tsukasa closer instead of letting him go. Their foreheads almost touched.

“If knowing my past will make you feel steadier,” Rui whispered, “then I’ll tell you.”

Tsukasa’s fingers curled lightly into Rui’s shirt without thinking.

“It might not be pretty,” Rui added softly. “It might be strange. And lonely.”

Tsukasa didn’t hesitate. “I don’t care.”

Rui’s lips curved—not into a smirk, not into a grin.

Into something real.

“Then stay here in bed,” he murmured, pressing their foreheads together. “And I will.”

Chapter Text

Rui didn’t start right away. He stayed quiet, staring at the ceiling instead of Tsukasa. His fingers flexed once, twice, as if grasping something invisible. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer than Tsukasa had ever heard it.

“I was born into a house that looked beautiful from the outside,” Rui said. “Stone walls. Silk curtains. Servants who bowed. A family people admired. Prestigious. Noble. Powerful… but not because of magic.”

He let out a slow breath. “My parents weren’t sorcerers. Not really. My mother had magic in her blood, but she treated it like a shameful birthmark. Something to hide. Something that ruined her family’s reputation if it ever surfaced.”

He turned his head slightly toward Tsukasa, but didn’t fully look at him. “My grandmother was different. My mother’s mother. She was… wonderful. Dangerous, people said. Brilliant, she called herself. She saw the magic in me the moment I cried for the first time.”

His fingers twitched faintly, like remembering warmth. “You can’t imagine what it feels like, having too much power inside a body that small. It felt like my bones were made of glass and lightning lived inside them. I’d sneeze and shatter windows. I’d laugh and scorch the roses in the garden. I threw tantrums that cracked walls. And when I cried… I nearly burned down the east wing of our estate.”

A humorless breath left him. “Everyone was terrified. Of a child.”

“My grandmother started stealing me away into the west tower. It was old and cold and smelled like dust and old magic. She taught me how to breathe through the power instead of fighting it. She held my hands when they trembled. She wrapped my fingers around cracked spellbooks and let me feel… normal.”

Rui swallowed. “She told me I wasn’t broken. She said I was born overflowing.”

He looked down now. “That made my parents hate her.”

“When they discovered what she was doing, everything stopped. They banned her from speaking to me. From looking at me. From touching me. They took me out of the west tower and locked me back into silk rooms I couldn’t breathe in.”

His lips curled faintly. “They told me my magic was sinful. Ugly. That if I didn’t control it, people would kill me. They told me I’d bring shame to our name.”

“I stopped going outside. Because children didn’t play with me. They stared. They ran. They cried. Some threw stones and called me a demon. I learned how to smile without showing my teeth. I learned how to stay very, very still so the walls wouldn’t crack.”

His voice lowered. “The maids whispered that my grandmother cursed me. The guards said I wasn’t human. The priests refused to touch me.”

“Then my grandmother disappeared.”

Rui’s fingers tightened in Tsukasa’s clothes.

“They said she went mad. They said they sent her away. Some said she was executed quietly. No one ever told me where she went. I never saw her again.” He let out a shaky, soundless laugh. “She was the only person who ever called me by my name like it was something soft.”

After that, things blurred. The house became a cage. The cage became smaller. His parents started inviting people to look at him, to judge him, to whisper about how dangerous he was. Not openly. Never openly. But behind hands. Behind fans. Behind doors.

“I started talking to myself,” he admitted. “Not because I was insane. But because if I didn’t hear a voice, I thought I would disappear.”

“And then one day, when I was older, one of the servants slipped and called me ‘monster’ out loud.”

He went quiet for a long moment. Then, softer, “I didn’t hurt her. I wanted to. But I didn’t. I just… left.”

“I walked out into the dark. Into the streets. Into alleys where no one knew my last name. That’s when I started being what they already thought I was.”

A sorcerer.

A weapon.

A thing that didn’t need love.

Rui finally turned his head and looked at Tsukasa then. Fully. Soft and raw and open. “The army found me when I was alone, starving, and sleeping on cold stone. They didn’t see a boy. They saw potential.”

“The Imperial Soldiers didn’t ask where I came from. They didn’t care about my family. They just wanted my magic.” He gave a small, humorless smile. “So I let them have it.”

“For the first time, people feared me for a reason I could control.”

“And then I met you.”

He didn’t add anything else after that. Didn’t need to.

Because everything afterward had already been written between them.

Chapter Text

Morning came with the soft crackle of the hearth and the faint, sweet scent of bread. Tsukasa was already awake, sleeves rolled neatly to his elbows, hair brushed back properly, movements calm and precise as he worked across the small kitchen. The wooden counter was filled with far more than usual: warm loaves wrapped in cloth, butter slowly melting in a dish, sliced fruit, lightly fried eggs, steamed vegetables coated in honeyed glaze (which made Rui gag slightly, and Tsukasa smirk lightly), and a small pan of golden pancakes crisping near the fire.

Rui watched from his chair, chin resting in his palm, eyes half-lidded and sleepy until he noticed.

Not soup. Not something simple. Not something efficient.

“A feast?” Rui hummed lazily, the corner of his mouth lifting as he glanced down at the familiar blue fabric around Tsukasa’s waist. “My, my. The ‘Kiss the Cook’ apron and everything. Didn’t know I’d married royalty.”

Tsukasa turned just enough for the firelight to catch his eyes. He said nothing.

He simply leaned over, grabbed Rui by the collar, and kissed him.

It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t clumsy. It was warm and deliberate, and utterly shocking.

Then he pulled away and went back to flipping pancakes like nothing happened.

Rui froze.

Steam rose from his tea. His hand hovered uselessly above the cup. His brain refused to reconnect with his body.

“…What just happened,” he whispered to no one.

He watched Tsukasa out of pure disbelief. “You’re still here,” Rui added slowly. “You haven’t left. You’re not in uniform. You’re not reaching for your sword.” He leaned forward, squinting. “Are you sick? Do I need to summon a healer?”

Without looking back, Tsukasa said calmly, “All knights were given leave today.”

Rui blinked.

“Why?”

Tsukasa set a plate down with careful hands. “Because today marks the fifth year of my appointment as Chief Chevalier.”

Silence.

Then a slow, dangerous smile crept across Rui’s lips.

“Oh,” he murmured, lifting the teacup Tsukasa had poured for him and stirring it slowly. “Is that so?”

The tea rippled faintly. A soft hum of magic coiled under his breath. He was already planning something. Something unnecessary. Something elaborate. Something that would make Tsukasa sigh and pretend he hated it.

But then.

The plates kept arriving.

Warm bread. Perfectly cooked eggs. Fluffy pancakes. Glazed vegetables. Delicate fruit slices arranged with far more care than necessary. Even a small dollop of whipped cream atop the berries.

Rui stared.

The mischief cracked.

The smirk faded.

His tea was forgotten. His plans evaporated.

He watched Tsukasa move around their kitchen like someone who belonged there. Not a general. Not a knight. Not a weapon. Just… Tsukasa.

Without a word, Rui slid off his chair.

The sound of fabric brushing the floor was soft as he knelt.

The monocle slipped from his face as he set it carefully upon the table. Then he bowed—deep, dramatic, absurdly serious, forehead almost touching the wooden floor.

Tsukasa turned.

His brows knit instantly. His arms crossed.

“…Get up,” Tsukasa said flatly.

Rui stayed there, muffled voice echoing against the wooden planks. “I am in the presence of a divine culinary spirit. One must show proper reverence.”

“You are being ridiculous,” Tsukasa replied, a faint scowl deepening. “You’ll hurt your knees. Eat your breakfast before it gets cold.”

Rui lifted his head just enough to see Tsukasa’s face.

Warm.

Gentle.

Annoyed in that way that meant he cared.

Rui smiled to himself.

“…Yes,” he said, pushing himself back up. “I suppose I should obey my terrifying, apron-wearing warlord of a husband.”

But he ate slowly, carefully, like something inside him had gone still and quiet. And for once, he had no need to plan anything at all.

Chapter Text

The morning after Tsukasa warned Rui to stop kneeling dramatically at breakfast, everything seemed normal — or at least, normal for them. Tsukasa wore the “Kiss the Cook” apron, stoic as ever, while Rui lounged on a chair like a smug cat. Breakfast was peaceful, full of soft glances and quiet affection, the kind that had settled naturally after everything they’d been through. Afterward Tsukasa washed dishes while Rui flicked magic bubbles around him, humming, lazily floating in circles just to annoy him. And Tsukasa, though he scowled, didn’t tell him to stop. He let Rui hover, let Rui poke his cheek, let Rui kiss his temple before he left for a short training session that the knights had insisted on, even though technically the anniversary meant the day was free. Rui watched him leave from the doorway, sipping tea, smiling softly. He thought nothing would go wrong today. But Rui had forgotten one thing: Tsukasa was loved. Truly loved. Not just by him — but by the kingdom, by the knights, by the people Tsukasa protected. And sometimes, Rui forgot that Tsukasa’s smiles didn’t belong only to him.

Tsukasa returned around noon, fresh from a small meeting with some trainees who had asked him to observe a formation. He didn’t look particularly tired. In fact, when he walked back into the cottage garden, he looked… happy. And that was exactly the problem. Rui froze mid-air as he saw Tsukasa walking alongside a young knight — a woman around their age — who was laughing at something Tsukasa had said. But it wasn’t the laugh that cut into Rui’s chest. It was Tsukasa. Smiling. A warm, gentle smile. Not forced. Not stoic. Not held back. A real smile. The kind Rui saw only rarely… the kind Rui starved for. The kind Tsukasa had shown Emu. The kind Rui wanted Tsukasa to feel comfortable giving to him. Rui felt something inside him jolt, snap, twist — he couldn’t even define it. Something dark, old, buried, something he thought he had left behind long ago. Obsession. Need. The ache of being unwanted. The fear of losing the only person who ever stayed.

Tsukasa waved goodbye to the knight and walked toward the cottage, unaware he was being watched like prey. Rui hovered silently in a shadowed corner of the garden, monocle gleaming as he studied every detail: Tsukasa’s relaxed shoulders, the faint flush in his cheeks, the soft curve of his lips. That smile. Rui’s heart pounded violently, breath catching, but not with anger — never anger. It was fear. Need. Possessiveness that wrapped around his ribs like vines. Tsukasa smiled for her. Why? Why so freely? Why not with him? He knew why — Tsukasa was comfortable with people he’d known for a long time. But why? They were married. Rui gave him everything. He made him laugh, made him food appear from thin air, made him magic gifts, gave him affection, warmth, devotion — so why did Tsukasa still hold back with him? Why was that smile so easy with others, but not him?

Tsukasa stepped inside the house. Rui appeared behind him instantly, teleporting so close their chests nearly touched. Tsukasa jolted. “Rui—!? Don’t appear like that—”. Rui smiled sweetly, too sweetly, placing a hand on Tsukasa’s jaw. “Welcome home, my dear knight.” Tsukasa blinked. His face grew pink. “W-why are you—” Rui interrupted by floating even closer, his nose almost brushing Tsukasa’s. He wasn’t touching him, but the intensity was enough to make Tsukasa back up a step. Rui followed, step for step, quietly trapping him against the wall. Tsukasa flushed bright red. “Rui…?” Rui tilted his head, smile widening. “You looked happy. Did something good happen during training?” Tsukasa shook his head quickly. “No, not really, I just— one of the trainees told a strange joke, and—” “You smiled,” Rui whispered, voice feather-light and trembling. Tsukasa stiffened. “W-what?” “You smiled,” Rui repeated, hands sliding slowly — gently — to Tsukasa’s shoulders. “That soft smile. The one I barely ever get to see.” Tsukasa’s breath caught. “Rui… it was nothing, just—” “No,” Rui breathed, and for a moment Tsukasa felt the full force of Rui’s gaze, hungry, desperate, adoring. “It meant something. To me.”

Tsukasa swallowed hard. He didn’t understand the look in Rui’s eyes — the adoration mixed with longing, fear, and something else, something intense and consuming. “Rui,” he whispered, voice small. “Were you… jealous?” Rui didn’t answer. He only leaned closer, brushing Tsukasa’s forehead with his own. “I don’t like seeing you smile like that for someone else,” he murmured truthfully. “Not when you never… never look at me that way.” Tsukasa’s heart twisted painfully. “That’s not true,” he whispered. Rui smiled again, but this time it was fragile. Ache-soft. “It is,” he said. “But that’s alright. I’m not angry.” He slipped his arms around Tsukasa, holding him delicately, almost reverently. “I just… I want to be the one who makes you smile like that. I want to be the reason your eyes soften. I want you to feel safe with me, to relax with me.” His voice trembled. “I want to be the one you open your heart to.” Tsukasa didn’t know what to do. Rui’s words were too raw, too honest, too vulnerable. It wasn’t demanding. It wasn’t controlling. It was devotion so overwhelming it frightened Tsukasa more than anger ever could.

Tsukasa lifted a shaky hand and placed it gently on Rui’s cheek. “Rui… I do feel safe with you.” “Then why do you hide yourself?” Rui whispered. “Why do you hold back? Why can’t you smile like that for me?” Tsukasa’s throat tightened. “Because…” Rui waited, breath held. “Because you scare me,” Tsukasa admitted at last. Rui froze. Tsukasa hurried on. “Not in a bad way — I mean—! You make me… feel things too strongly. I don’t know how to handle it. I get embarrassed. I panic. I freeze up. But I’m trying. I’m really trying, Rui.” Rui’s grip loosened. His eyes softened, the obsessive haze melting into something wounded and quiet. Tsukasa’s confession hit him deeper than any smile could. “You scare me too,” Rui whispered. “Because I love you too much. More than I should. More than is healthy.” Tsukasa stared, stunned. Rui continued, voice breaking. “And when I saw you smile for someone else… I felt that old part of me return. The part that’s terrified of being unnecessary. The part that would cling to anything warm.” He pressed his forehead into Tsukasa’s shoulder, trembling softly. “I don’t want to lose you.”

Tsukasa slowly — very slowly — wrapped his arms around Rui and pulled him in tight. For the first time, he didn’t hesitate. “You won’t,” he said softly. “You won’t lose me. You don’t need to be jealous. I’m yours.” Rui’s breath hitched. His arms tightened around Tsukasa’s waist like he intended to never let go. Tsukasa felt Rui’s magic flare in tiny flickers, uncontrolled, brushing over his skin like sparks. Rui whispered something against Tsukasa’s collarbone, voice shaking so softly Tsukasa barely caught it. “Stay with me,” Rui murmured. “Just stay with me today.” Tsukasa nodded without hesitation. “I will.”

And Rui finally smiled — a fragile, overwhelmed, lovesick smile — then held Tsukasa so tightly the knight felt like he was being claimed and cherished and feared to be lost all at once.

Chapter Text

Rui didn’t let go of Tsukasa for a long time. It wasn’t aggressive, not even close — Rui never hurt him — but it was clingy, possessive in the softest, most desperate way. He held Tsukasa like a man who had been wandering in the cold and finally found fire. Tsukasa could feel every trembling breath against his neck, every little shiver of magic that flickered out of Rui’s body like sparks from a fireplace. Rui’s fingers pressed into his back as though Tsukasa was the only anchor he had. And Tsukasa… let him. More than that, Tsukasa held him back, firm and steady, grounding him in a way Rui wasn’t used to.

They stayed pressed together in the hallway until Rui finally calmed enough to pull back just a little — but only enough to look at Tsukasa’s face. “I’m sorry,” Rui murmured, brushing his thumb beneath Tsukasa’s eye. “I didn’t mean to… overwhelm you.” Tsukasa shook his head, cheeks tinted pink. “You didn’t.” Rui blinked. “Truly?”
“…Mostly.”

Rui’s eyes softened, brightened, then darkened again with something greedy, hungry, aching — but directed at Tsukasa with such tenderness it made Tsukasa’s stomach flip. “I want to stay close to you today,” Rui whispered. “Is that alright?” Tsukasa hesitated for only a heartbeat before nodding. “You can stay close.” Rui’s smile stretched slow and relieved, almost childish in its sincerity… and something inside him clicked.

He wasn’t going to leave Tsukasa’s side. Not now. Not today.

Rui followed Tsukasa everywhere. Everywhere. If Tsukasa sat, Rui appeared beside him. If Tsukasa stood, Rui floated behind him. When Tsukasa went to put away the tea cups from earlier, Rui walked after him like a shadow, arms loosely wrapped around Tsukasa’s waist from behind. When Tsukasa went to fetch the laundry basket, Rui teleported with a burst of sparkles and grabbed it for him. Even when Tsukasa tried to chop vegetables for soup, Rui leaned over his shoulder, chin resting on the knight’s pauldron-less shoulder, watching with unsettlingly soft, adoring eyes.

Tsukasa didn’t say anything — but he was very aware of it. And very flustered. “Rui, I— I need to cut these without you breathing down my neck.” Rui hummed, not moving at all. “What if I like breathing down your neck?” “Then… do it somewhere else.” Rui’s smile only widened. “No.”

Tsukasa gave up.

By afternoon, Rui’s obsession had taken a very specific form — something dangerous in its subtlety. He wasn’t trying to isolate Tsukasa or prevent him from leaving the cottage; he simply refused to stop touching him. A hand on Tsukasa’s arm. Fingers slipping into his. Pressing their shoulders together whenever Tsukasa sat down. Curling his tailcoat around Tsukasa when he got cold. Wrapping his arms around Tsukasa’s middle when they walked to the garden. Not once during the entire day did Rui let Tsukasa go for longer than twenty seconds. Tsukasa would turn around, and Rui would already be there. Silent and waiting. Watching him with that same hungry look — not predatory. Not harmful. Just starving for affection, terrified of losing the warmth he finally had.

And Tsukasa understood that kind of hunger more than he wished he did.

When they sat outside with tea, Rui ended up on Tsukasa’s lap. Not intentionally at first — Rui simply leaned too much, floated too close, and Tsukasa ended up grabbing him by the waist to prevent him from falling. Rui blinked, then slowly draped himself across Tsukasa like he belonged there. Tsukasa’s face went red. Rui hummed happily, snuggling his cheek against Tsukasa’s shoulder. “You’re warm.”
“You’re too close,” Tsukasa muttered.
“You said I could stay close.”
“Not— this close.”
Rui lazily wrapped his arms around Tsukasa’s neck. “Then push me away.”
Tsukasa didn’t.
Rui smiled triumphantly.

As evening approached, Tsukasa tried to go retrieve their dinner ingredients from the pantry, only to find Rui blocking the doorway with his arms stretched out like a possessive sorcerer-gatekeeper. “Where are you going?”

“To the pantry.”
“Why?”
“To get rice.”
“I’ll do it.” Rui grabbed the rice and then trailed Tsukasa into the kitchen, pressing close enough that Tsukasa nearly spilled the pot. Rui whispered by his ear, voice sinfully soft, “Don’t look at anyone but me.” Tsukasa dropped the spoon.

Later, when Tsukasa went outside to check the laundry, Rui followed again. When Tsukasa knelt to pick up a fallen sheet, Rui knelt behind him, arms loosely around his waist like he was trying to physically anchor Tsukasa to the earth. Tsukasa sighed, but it wasn’t irritated — it was resigned. Warm. Maybe a little fond. “Rui, you’re acting strange,” he murmured, voice oddly gentle. Rui rested his chin on Tsukasa’s shoulder. “I’m acting normal.” “Rui.”
“…Fine. I’m acting… clingy.”
Tsukasa blinked. “You know that?”
Rui nodded. “Yes. And I’m not sorry.”
Tsukasa blinked again, completely thrown. Rui continued softly, “If I could, I would keep you in my arms forever. I know that’s selfish. I know people would say it’s too much. But when I think about you being happy with someone else—” his voice cracked faintly, “—I lose my breath.”

Tsukasa’s stomach twisted with something like guilt and something like affection tangled together. He reached down and gently placed his hand over Rui’s. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The obsession deepened into something quieter in the evening. Rui didn’t talk much — he simply hovered around Tsukasa in a trance-like haze. If Tsukasa sat on the couch, Rui curled around him. If Tsukasa brewed tea, Rui wrapped his arms around Tsukasa’s torso from behind, cheek pressed to his shoulder blade. If Tsukasa tried to leave the room, Rui teleported to block the doorway, blinking innocently. “Where are you going?” “To get a blanket.” “I’ll get it.” Rui would vanish and reappear with ten blankets. Tsukasa didn’t even bother arguing.

The final straw came when Tsukasa yawned.

Just a simple yawn.

Rui’s reaction was immediate — he scooped Tsukasa up bridal-style, carried him straight to the bed, and dropped him onto the mattress like a knight rescuing royalty. Tsukasa sputtered, face red. “RUI—!?” Rui climbed into bed after him, immediately curling around Tsukasa’s body like a vine finding a trellis. “You’re tired,” Rui whispered in a low voice. “You should rest.” “…You could have just told me to rest.” Rui blinked. “I did.” “No you didn’t—!” Rui pressed a kiss to Tsukasa’s neck, shutting him up instantly. “Rest,” he repeated gently, pulling Tsukasa close until the knight’s back was flush against his chest. “I’ll stay right here.”

Tsukasa melted.

He hated it. He loved it. He didn’t know which one it was more of. All he knew was that Rui’s arms were warm, and strong, and trembling just a little — like he was scared of losing his grip. And Tsukasa, for once, reached up and placed his hand over Rui’s forearm, squeezing softly. “Rui… I’m yours,” he whispered. Rui froze behind him, breath hitching, then buried his face in Tsukasa’s shoulder and whispered back, shaky and overwhelmed: “And I am yours.”

Rui clung to him all night. Tsukasa slept in Rui’s arms, safe and wanted. And Rui, even in sleep, never let him go.

Chapter Text

The shift was subtle enough that Tsukasa didn’t notice it at first. Rui still woke up beside him, still lingered in the doorway when Tsukasa dressed, still followed him out into the morning air — but the warmth was gone. Not the kindness, not the care, but the closeness. Rui no longer wrapped himself around Tsukasa like ivy, no longer hummed against his shoulder or pressed kisses into his hair when he thought Tsukasa wasn’t paying attention. Instead, Rui stood a few steps back, hands folded behind his back, monocle glinting as he watched Tsukasa with an unreadable expression. It wasn’t anger. It wasn’t resentment. It was something colder. Calculated. Like Rui had drawn a careful line in his mind and decided this was where he would stand now.

Tsukasa felt it most when he moved. Every time he turned, Rui was there — leaning against a wall, perched on a chair, standing beneath a tree — always present, never touching. His gaze followed Tsukasa constantly, unwavering and intense, but distant in a way that made Tsukasa’s chest tighten. When Tsukasa reached for a cup, Rui was already watching his hand. When Tsukasa spoke, Rui listened without interrupting, eyes sharp and focused, like he was memorizing every word. And when Tsukasa paused, expecting a tease or a smile or a comment, Rui offered none. Just silence. Just that blank stare.

They ate breakfast together like that. Tsukasa cooked, wearing the kiss-the-cook apron out of habit, waiting for Rui’s usual commentary — the dramatic sighs, the exaggerated praise, the playful demands for kisses — but Rui simply sat at the table, fingers steepled, watching Tsukasa move around the kitchen like a knight on patrol. “The eggs will get cold,” Tsukasa finally said, glancing back. Rui nodded once. “I know.” He didn’t reach for his plate until Tsukasa sat down. He ate neatly, quietly, eyes lifting only to track Tsukasa’s movements. Tsukasa’s appetite faded halfway through his meal.

When Tsukasa left for the castle, Rui followed — not at his side, not arm-in-arm like before, but several paces behind, footsteps silent, presence unmistakable. Knights glanced over their shoulders and stiffened when they noticed him. Whispers spread like sparks. Rui Kamishiro. The sorcerer. The husband. The threat that never quite did anything wrong. Tsukasa wanted to tell Rui to walk beside him, wanted to scold him for looming like a shadow, but every time he opened his mouth, Rui’s eyes flicked to him, sharp and expectant, and Tsukasa swallowed the words. There was something brittle in Rui’s stillness, like glass pulled too thin. Tsukasa didn’t want to shatter it.

Training was worse. Tsukasa stood in the center of the grounds, issuing orders, correcting stances, demonstrating techniques — and Rui was there, leaning against a stone pillar at the edge of the yard, arms crossed, gaze fixed solely on Tsukasa. He didn’t look at anyone else. Not Akito. Not Mizuki. Not even Emu when she waved at him from the battlements. Only Tsukasa. It was unsettling. Every swing of Tsukasa’s sword felt heavier, every movement more deliberate, as though he were being judged not as a knight, but as something fragile Rui was measuring the distance to protect.

Mizuki noticed first. “He’s doing it again,” they muttered under their breath, nudging Akito. Akito frowned. “Doing what?” “The staring. The quiet kind. The ‘I’ll burn the world down in my head but not say a word’ kind.” Akito glanced toward Rui and stiffened. “Yeah… that kind.” Tsukasa overheard them and snapped, sharper than intended, “Focus on your form.” Both knights obeyed immediately, but Tsukasa’s grip on his sword tightened until his knuckles ached.

When training ended, Tsukasa expected Rui to approach him. To say something. Anything. Instead, Rui turned away the moment Tsukasa dismissed the knights and began walking back toward the cottage alone. Tsukasa froze, then hurried after him. “Rui,” he called. Rui stopped, but didn’t turn around. “Yes?” His voice was calm. Too calm. Tsukasa searched for the right words, then settled on honesty. “You’re… different today.” Rui’s shoulders rose and fell with a slow breath. “Am I?” “Yes,” Tsukasa said firmly. “You’re distant.” Rui turned then, finally, eyes sharp and unreadable. “I am still here.” “That’s not what I meant.” “It is what matters.” And with that, Rui resumed walking.

The rest of the day passed like that. Rui was everywhere Tsukasa went, but always just out of reach. When Tsukasa sat, Rui stood. When Tsukasa turned, Rui looked away. When Tsukasa tried to initiate conversation, Rui answered politely but briefly, never elaborating, never teasing. It was like living with a sentry — vigilant, tireless, watching for threats that Tsukasa couldn’t see. By evening, the silence pressed so heavily on Tsukasa’s chest that he felt breathless.

It broke when Tsukasa nearly tripped on the cottage steps.

Rui was there in an instant — faster than Tsukasa could blink — hands gripping his arms, steadying him with surprising force. For a split second, the distance vanished. Rui’s eyes burned, wild and sharp, scanning Tsukasa like he was checking for wounds. “Are you hurt?” The question was urgent, raw. Tsukasa shook his head. “No. I’m fine.” Rui didn’t let go immediately. His grip lingered, fingers tense, before he seemed to remember himself and stepped back abruptly. The cold returned just as quickly. “Be careful,” Rui said quietly.

That night, Tsukasa couldn’t sleep. Rui lay beside him, facing away, eyes open, watching the wall. Tsukasa turned onto his side, staring at Rui’s back, the rigid line of his shoulders. “Rui,” he whispered. No response. “Rui,” he tried again, louder. “Why are you pulling away?” Silence stretched. Then, softly, “Because if I don’t, I’ll lose myself again.” Tsukasa’s breath caught. Rui continued, voice low and controlled. “Yesterday, I wanted to keep you so close the world couldn’t touch you. Today, I remember what happens when I want too much.” Tsukasa reached out, hesitated, then placed his hand gently against Rui’s back. Rui didn’t flinch, but he didn’t turn either. “You don’t have to disappear to protect me,” Tsukasa said. “I’m not disappearing,” Rui replied. “I’m watching. From a distance. Where I can think.”

Tsukasa closed his eyes, hand still resting against Rui’s back, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing. He didn’t pull Rui closer. He didn’t let go. And Rui, rigid and silent, stayed exactly where he was — close enough to guard, far enough to hurt.

Chapter Text

Tsukasa woke to absence.

It wasn’t loud or sudden; it was the quiet kind that settled into his bones before he was fully conscious. The bed was still warm on Rui’s side, sheets faintly scented with smoke and flowers, but the weight that usually anchored Tsukasa there was gone. He stared at the ceiling for a long moment, blinking, waiting for the familiar hum of magic or the soft rustle of fabric. Nothing came. His chest tightened.

“Rui?” His voice sounded wrong in the empty room.

He sat up, scanning the cottage. The chair by the window was empty. The garden door stood ajar, curtains stirring with the morning breeze. Tsukasa stood quickly, pulling on his clothes with uncharacteristic haste, boots thudding against the floor as he moved through the house. Kitchen—empty. Garden—undisturbed except for flowers still blooming too perfectly to be coincidence. No note. No message. No teasing remark scribbled in the margins. Just absence.

Confusion gave way to unease. Rui never left without saying something. Not anymore. Not after everything. Tsukasa pressed his lips into a thin line, anger prickling beneath the worry. He promised. He promised he wouldn’t go near the border again. He promised he wouldn’t disappear without a word. Tsukasa stood very still in the middle of the cottage, hands clenched at his sides, trying to slow his breathing. “Think,” he muttered to himself. “Think like a knight.” But this wasn’t a battlefield. This was his husband.

Far away, beyond the quiet fields and the carefully watched borders, Rui Kamishiro stepped into the Dark Kingdom for the first time in years.

The air there felt heavier, saturated with magic that buzzed against his skin like static. Towers rose sharp and elegant against a violet sky, banners fluttering in colors too deep to exist in the Light Kingdom. Rui adjusted his monocle, expression composed, heart anything but. He had planned this carefully. He had waited until Tsukasa slept deeply, until the distance he’d forced between them felt believable enough to hide what he was about to do. Just this once, he told himself. Just this, and then I’ll come back. I’ll fix everything.

Saki Tenma was real. Alive. Somewhere here. Nene’s letter had been careful, vague—but the implication was unmistakable. A young woman matching Saki’s description had been seen near a noble household, sheltered but watched. Rui followed the threads quietly, slipping through streets and shadows, magic dampened, presence muted. People still stared. They always did. The monster sorcerer had never quite faded into rumor here.

He found her in a courtyard bathed in morning light.

She was sitting on a stone bench, laughing softly at something a maid had said, sunlight catching in her hair. She looked older than the memory Tsukasa carried, but unmistakable. The same eyes. The same posture when she laughed, shoulders lifting just slightly as if bracing for joy to be taken away. Rui stopped short, breath hitching. So this is her, he thought. This is who he’s been missing.

Rui approached slowly. When Saki noticed him, her smile faded into polite curiosity, then confusion, then something like recognition she didn’t quite trust. “Can I help you?” she asked. Rui bowed, formal and careful. “Saki Tenma,” he said gently. “I come on behalf of your brother.” Her breath caught audibly. “Tsukasa…?” His name sounded fragile on her tongue. Rui nodded once. “He’s alive. He’s safe. He’s been searching for you in his own way for years.”

Back in the Light Kingdom, Tsukasa paced the cottage like a caged animal. He’d checked the garden twice, the road three times. By the fourth, panic had fully set in. The Dark Kingdom, his mind whispered traitorously. His jaw tightened. “Idiot,” he muttered—not sure if he meant himself or Rui. He grabbed his cloak, hesitating only a moment before stopping. If he left now, he’d alert the castle. If he alerted the castle, Rui would be in danger. Tsukasa sank into a chair, elbows on knees, fingers pressed hard against his temples. “Please,” he whispered to no one. “Please come back.”

Saki stood when Rui finished speaking, hands trembling. “He… he never came for us,” she said quietly. Not accusing. Just stating a wound. Rui didn’t flinch. “He thought you were gone,” he replied. “He was fifteen and alone and abandoned. He became someone who survives by standing very still.” Saki swallowed, tears welling. “I want to see him.” Rui’s chest tightened painfully. “I know.” He hesitated, then spoke the truth he’d been circling since dawn. “That’s why I’m here. To take you to him.”

By the time the sun began to dip, Tsukasa was still sitting in the cottage, unmoving, staring at the door like it might betray him by opening too late. He didn’t know that at that very moment, in a land he’d sworn to protect his kingdom from, Rui Kamishiro was keeping a promise the only way he knew how—by risking everything, quietly, so the man he loved wouldn’t have to wait any longer.

Tsukasa didn’t remember deciding to leave.

One moment he was sitting in the cottage, hands clasped so tightly his knuckles ached, staring at the door as if it had personally betrayed him. The next, he was outside, cloak pulled over his shoulders, boots striking the dirt road with a sharp, purposeful rhythm that didn’t match the nausea curling in his stomach. His head throbbed. His chest felt too tight, like he hadn’t breathed properly since he woke up. Worry wasn’t supposed to make you feel sick. Fear wasn’t supposed to make your vision blur. He pressed a hand to his mouth briefly, steadying himself, then kept walking.

He promised, Tsukasa thought again, jaw clenched. He promised he wouldn’t go near the border.
And yet—every step pulled him closer to it.

The fields thinned. The air changed. Even without magic, Tsukasa could feel it: that faint pressure along his skin, the subtle hum that meant the Dark Kingdom was close. He slowed, breath uneven, trying to reason with himself. “You’re imagining it,” he muttered. “You’re tired. You’re worried.” But his feet didn’t listen. His heart beat faster the closer he got, not with fear, but with certainty. Rui had been strange for days—too quiet, too distant, watching him like he was afraid to touch him and afraid not to at the same time. That look… Tsukasa swallowed. He’d seen it before.

By the time the border came into view, Tsukasa’s hands were trembling.

The trees here grew twisted and tall, roots breaking through the soil like grasping fingers. The invisible line between kingdoms hummed faintly, wards woven into the land itself. Tsukasa stopped just short of crossing, chest heaving, eyes scanning the shadows. “Rui,” he said aloud, voice low, almost afraid to say it too loudly. “Rui, where are you?” He felt foolish immediately after, but he didn’t take it back.

Then he sensed it.

Crimson magic—controlled, restrained, but unmistakable.

Tsukasa spun toward it just in time to see Rui step back across the border line, cloak drawn close around himself, one hand held protectively behind him. His expression was focused, serious in a way that made Tsukasa’s stomach drop. Not teasing. Not dramatic. This was the Rui from the forest, from the war, from those early days when obsession had been sharp and dangerous and desperately quiet.

Their eyes met.

For a split second, Rui froze.

Then Tsukasa crossed the distance between them in long, furious strides and grabbed him by the front of his cloak. “What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded, voice shaking despite himself. “You vanished. You broke your promise. Do you have any idea—” His words caught painfully in his throat. He swallowed hard and tried again. “Do you have any idea what you put me through?”

Rui didn’t pull away. He didn’t smile. He just looked at Tsukasa with that same blank, intent stare he’d worn for days, eyes flicking briefly behind Tsukasa as if checking the surroundings. “You weren’t supposed to follow me,” he said quietly.

Tsukasa laughed once, sharp and humorless. “I didn’t follow you. I knew.” His grip tightened. “My heart knew. That’s worse.”

There was a pause, heavy and charged. Then a soft step sounded behind Rui.

Tsukasa’s breath left him in a rush.

She stood there uncertainly, hands clasped in front of her, eyes wide and shining with unshed tears. Older, yes—but unmistakable. Blonde hair, pink-tinted at the ends where sunlight caught it. The same eyes Tsukasa saw every time he looked into a mirror. “Tsukasa…?” she whispered.

His world tilted.

For a moment, everything—the border, the war, Rui’s recklessness—fell away. Tsukasa staggered forward, releasing Rui without realizing it, staring at her like she might vanish if he blinked. “Saki,” he breathed. The sound of her name broke something open in his chest. She nodded quickly, tears spilling over now, and then they were both moving at once, colliding in a fierce, desperate embrace. Tsukasa wrapped his arms around her like he could shield her from the entire world, shoulders shaking despite his efforts to stay composed. “You’re alive,” he said over and over, voice hoarse. “You’re alive. You’re really alive.”

Rui watched from a step back, hands clenched at his sides.

This—this—was what he’d imagined. Tsukasa smiling like that again. Crying openly. Whole. Relief flooded him, followed immediately by something colder and sharper. Fear. Because the way Tsukasa clung to Saki, the way his entire being focused on her, reminded Rui of something he hated to admit: Tsukasa didn’t need him for this moment. Rui had brought her here, yes—but now that she was here, now that Tsukasa had what he’d been missing for years… what place did that leave Rui?

Tsukasa eventually pulled back, wiping his eyes roughly, then turned sharply toward Rui as the realization caught up with him. “You—” His voice broke again, this time with anger and something like terror. “You went back there. Alone. After promising me—” He stopped, chest heaving, then stepped closer until they were nearly touching. “Don’t ever do that again.”

Rui met his gaze evenly. “I would do it again,” he said softly. “If it meant seeing you like this.”

Tsukasa’s hands curled into fists. “That’s not an answer.”

“No,” Rui agreed. “It’s the truth.”

For a long moment, neither spoke. Saki watched them, eyes flicking between her brother and the man who stood so close to him, close enough that their shoulders almost brushed. She didn’t miss the tension, or the way Tsukasa’s anger was braided tightly with fear. Rui finally looked away first, gaze dropping to the ground. “I didn’t leave because I wanted to,” he said quietly. “I left because I couldn’t stand watching you hope and not know.”

Tsukasa exhaled shakily. The sickness in his stomach hadn’t gone away, but it had changed—settled into something heavy and aching instead. He reached out, hesitated, then grabbed Rui’s sleeve, grounding himself. “Next time,” he said, voice low and firm, “we decide together. Do you understand me?”

Rui looked back at him then, really looked, and something in his expression softened. “Yes,” he said. And for once, he meant it without condition.

Tsukasa closed his eyes briefly, forehead dropping forward until it touched Rui’s shoulder. He stayed there, breathing in the familiar scent of smoke and flowers, heart still racing. He didn’t say it aloud, but the truth sat heavy in his chest: whatever storms were waiting ahead, whatever dangers Rui kept throwing himself into… Tsukasa would follow. Not because he was a knight. But because this was where his heart led him.

Chapter Text

The walk back to the cottage felt unreal to Tsukasa, like the world had shifted slightly to the left and never bothered correcting itself. Saki walked beside him, close enough that their sleeves brushed, as if she was afraid that too much distance might undo everything. Tsukasa kept glancing at her without realizing it—at the way she walked, at how she tucked her hands into her sleeves when the wind picked up, at how familiar and unfamiliar she was all at once. Every time he looked, his chest tightened again, a quiet ache that felt strangely warm. Rui followed a few steps behind them, quiet, watchful, eyes sharp despite the softness in his posture, as if he were guarding something fragile simply by being there.

When the cottage finally came into view, Tsukasa stopped for a moment, breath catching. “This is… where I live,” he said, like he wasn’t quite convinced it was real. Saki smiled, small and careful. “It suits you,” she replied, though she hadn’t even seen the inside yet. Tsukasa opened the door and ushered her in, suddenly nervous in a way that felt absurd after everything he’d survived.

The cottage welcomed them with warmth: sunlight slanting through the windows, the scent of dried flowers and bread lingering in the air, the quiet crackle of the hearth. Saki stepped inside slowly, eyes wide, taking everything in—the neat shelves, the little garden tools by the door, the vases full of carefully arranged flowers. “You live… nicely,” she said, a little surprised. Tsukasa cleared his throat. “It’s quiet. I like it that way.” He paused, then added more softly, “I’m glad you’re here.”

Saki turned to him, studying his face more closely now. He looked older than she remembered, sharper around the edges, but there was something else too—something gentler underneath. Her gaze drifted past him, lingering on the kitchen. On the apron hanging from a hook near the counter. Blue fabric. White letters. Kiss the Cook.

She blinked.

Once.

Twice.

Her eyes narrowed slightly as realization crept in. She looked back at Tsukasa. Then at Rui, who had just closed the door behind them and was leaning casually against it, arms folded, watching the exchange with mild curiosity. Saki’s gaze flicked between them again, faster this time. “Wait,” she said slowly. “Hold on.”

Tsukasa stiffened. Rui raised a brow, clearly amused but saying nothing.

Saki walked closer to the counter, reached out, and touched the apron like it might vanish. “You cook?” she asked Tsukasa, incredulous. Tsukasa nodded once, unsure where this was going. “Yes.” Her head snapped toward Rui. “And you live here?” Rui smiled faintly. “Guilty.”

There was a beat of silence.

Then Saki inhaled sharply, hands flying up to cover her mouth. “No way,” she whispered. Her eyes went impossibly wide. “No. No, no, no—Tsukasa, don’t tell me—” She spun on him, barely containing herself. “You’re married?!”

Tsukasa froze. Rui didn’t.

Rui, for his part, looked delighted.

“Yes,” he said smoothly. “Very.”

Saki made a sound somewhere between a squeak and a gasp. “YOU’RE MARRIED,” she repeated, louder, pointing between them. “You? You?” She stared at Tsukasa like he’d just told her the sky was green. “Since when?! How?! To him?!” She turned on Rui, eyes sparkling now, suspicion replaced entirely by excitement. “Oh my gods, is this why you’re glowing? Is this why he looks… like that?”

Tsukasa’s ears burned. “Saki,” he warned weakly.

She ignored him completely. “This is incredible,” she breathed. “I leave the Light Kingdom for years, by force, and come back to find my stoic, terrifying, emotionally-constipated brother is married to a sorcerer that used to be so infamous everyone was scared of him!” She grabbed Tsukasa’s hands suddenly. “Are you happy?”

The question cut through the chaos like a blade.

Tsukasa didn’t answer immediately. He looked at Saki, then at Rui, who had gone very still, watching him carefully now. Tsukasa’s grip tightened around her hands. “Yes,” he said quietly. “I am, very, very, happy.”

Saki’s face broke into the widest smile he’d seen since they were children. She let out an excited squeal and pulled him into a fierce hug. “I knew it,” she said into his shoulder. “I knew you’d find someone. I just didn’t think it’d be a man like this though!”

Rui laughed softly behind them.

When Saki finally pulled back, she wiped at her eyes, still grinning. “Okay,” she said decisively. “I need everything. How you met, how you survived marrying Rui, how long this has been going on, and how you have been doing since me and Mother left.” She glanced pointedly at the apron again. “And I want to see you wear that.”

Tsukasa groaned. Rui, utterly unhelpful, smiled and said, “Oh, I can’t wait to see Tsukasa-kun wear it again.”

For the first time since she’d stepped inside, Saki looked around the cottage again—not with caution, not with suspicion, but with warmth. Whatever had happened to bring them all here, whatever storms still waited beyond these walls, one thing was suddenly very clear to her: her brother had built a life. And somehow, against all odds, he wasn’t alone anymore.

And she wanted to be in her brother’s life again.

The cottage softened as the day went on.

Sunlight filtered through the windows in warm slants, dust motes drifting lazily in the air, the garden outside alive with color and quiet magic. Saki moved through the space like she was afraid to disturb it at first, fingers brushing the backs of chairs, pausing to admire the flowers Rui had coaxed into bloom along the windowsill. Tsukasa followed her more closely than he realized, handing her a cup of tea when she sat, adjusting the blanket over her shoulders when the breeze crept in, listening to her talk about small things—about the Dark Kingdom’s markets, about how food tasted different there, about how she used to sneak onto rooftops just to feel tall again. Rui watched it all from a careful distance, fondness soft in his gaze, occasionally chiming in with a comment that made Saki laugh.

For a while, it felt like a stolen dream.

They shared dinner together—simple, warm, filling. Tsukasa cooked without thinking, movements sure and practiced, Rui hovering close enough to steal tastes and earn half-hearted scoldings, Saki sitting at the table with her chin in her hands, smiling so much it almost hurt to look at her. “You’re different,” she said to Tsukasa at one point, not accusing, just observant. Tsukasa glanced up. “Different how?” She shrugged lightly. “Happier. Quieter. Like you don’t have to stand at attention all the time.” Rui hummed in agreement, earning a look from Tsukasa that said don’t push it and yet didn’t carry any real heat.

They laughed. They talked. For a precious few hours, the world felt kind.

But as the light outside shifted, as gold gave way to orange and then to dusky blue, something in Saki dimmed.

Tsukasa noticed it first. He always did. Her laughter came a little slower, her gaze lingering too long on the window, fingers tightening around her teacup as if she needed the warmth to anchor herself. “What’s wrong?” he asked quietly, when Rui had stepped outside to check on the garden. Saki hesitated, then smiled—too carefully. “Nothing,” she said. Tsukasa didn’t accept that. He never had. “Saki.”

Her shoulders slumped.

“She’ll notice,” Saki said softly. “If I don’t go back. Mother, I mean.” The word tasted bitter even now. “She always notices when I’m gone too long. And if she finds out I crossed the border—came here—” She shook her head, swallowing hard. “She’ll be furious.”

Tsukasa felt something cold twist in his chest. Anger came easily, sharp and immediate, but beneath it was something worse—helplessness. “You don’t have to go back tonight,” he said, too quickly. “You can stay. We’ll figure something out.” Saki looked at him then, really looked, eyes shining with unshed tears. “I want to,” she admitted, voice trembling. “I want to stay with you. Here. Forever, if I could.”

The words hit Tsukasa harder than any blade ever had.

Rui returned quietly, sensing the shift without being told. He didn’t interrupt, just stood close enough to be part of the moment. Saki glanced at him, then back at Tsukasa. “I’m tired of being scared,” she whispered. “Tired of pretending I don’t miss you. This… this feels like home.” She gestured weakly around the cottage. “And I don’t want to leave it.”

Tsukasa pulled her into his arms without hesitation, holding her tightly, one hand resting protectively against the back of her head. “You’re not alone,” he said firmly, voice low and steady despite the storm inside him. “Not anymore. Whatever happens, you hear me? You are not alone.” Rui stepped closer, placing a hand over Tsukasa’s, magic humming softly—not to bind or shield, but to warm, to comfort. “We’ll find a way,” he said gently. “I promise.”

Saki laughed weakly against Tsukasa’s chest. “You sound very confident.” Rui smiled, small and sincere. “I married a very stubborn knight. Confidence comes with the territory.”

That earned a quiet huff from Tsukasa, but he didn’t let go.

Night fell slowly after that. Lamps were lit. The fire crackled softly. Saki eventually drifted to sleep on the couch, curled beneath a blanket, exhaustion finally claiming her. Tsukasa stood watching her for a long time, expression unreadable, heart heavy with love and fear tangled too tightly to separate. Rui came to stand beside him, shoulder brushing his. “She wants to stay,” Rui said softly. Tsukasa nodded once. “So do I.”

Rui didn’t answer immediately. He just slipped his hand into Tsukasa’s, squeezing gently. Outside, the world waited—borders, expectations, dangers. But inside the cottage, for this quiet evening, there was warmth, and family, and a fragile hope that maybe, just maybe, the night wouldn’t steal everything they loved by morning.

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

The cottage smelled like earth and sunlight that afternoon.

Saki had insisted on helping in the garden, sleeves rolled up, knees stained with dirt as she carefully held a basket while Rui wandered between the flowerbeds like a man possessed. He moved with deliberate care, gloved fingers brushing petals as if greeting old friends, crimson magic flickering faintly as he encouraged certain blooms to open wider, brighter. Tsukasa watched from the porch at first, arms crossed, posture relaxed but alert out of habit, until he realized Rui had been glancing back at him every few seconds like he was checking to make sure he was still there.

Saki noticed too.

“You always look at him like that,” she said suddenly, tilting her head.

Rui hummed. “Like what?”

“Like he’s going to disappear if you don’t,” she replied matter-of-factly.

Rui paused.

Then he smiled, soft and unapologetic. “Yes.”

Tsukasa cleared his throat loudly from the porch. “What are you two whispering about?” Rui straightened immediately, scooping several flowers into his arms with theatrical flair. “Ah, nothing at all! Merely preparing a very important offering.” He strode toward Tsukasa with dramatic steps, Saki scrambling after him, curiosity blazing in her eyes.

Rui stopped directly in front of Tsukasa and knelt—again—because of course he did. Tsukasa sighed, already bracing himself. Rui held up the bouquet like it was sacred. “For you,” he said seriously. “White camellias. Admiration and devotion.” He adjusted the arrangement slightly. “Forget-me-nots—true love and remembrance. And these,” he added, brushing a finger over soft pink petals, “sweet peas. Blissful pleasure. Departure… but more importantly, gratitude for shared moments.”

Tsukasa stared.

His ears went red.

“…Rui,” he muttered. “We talked about you doing this in front of other people.”

“I am educating your sister with flower rizz,” Rui replied solemnly.

Saki, meanwhile, looked like she’d just witnessed a miracle.

“YOU DO THIS REGULARLY?” she blurted out. “You just—walk up to him—and hand him flowers—and tell him what they mean?” Tsukasa tried to interject. “Saki, please—” Too late.

Saki clasped her hands together, eyes sparkling. “That’s so romantic! I want to try this kind of courting too, with Icchan!”

Rui preened. “Thank you. I take my craft very seriously.”

Tsukasa reluctantly took the bouquet, fingers brushing Rui’s for just a second. He looked away, flustered, but there was a small smile tugging at his lips that he didn’t bother hiding. “They’re… nice,” he said quietly.

Saki gasped. “HE SAID NICE.”

Rui’s shoulders shook with barely restrained laughter.

Saki leaned closer to her brother, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “So this is what marriage looks like?” Tsukasa glanced down at the flowers, then at Rui, who was watching him like he’d hung the stars himself. “…Sometimes,” Tsukasa admitted.

Rui reached out and gently tucked a stray petal behind Tsukasa’s ear. “All the time,” he corrected softly.

Saki hugged the basket to her chest, smiling so wide it almost hurt. Whatever fear still lingered about staying, about the future, about their mother—it dimmed in that moment. Because her brother was here. He was loved. And apparently, he was being wooed daily by a sorcerer with an alarming knowledge of flower symbolism.

She decided she liked this life very much.

Chapter Text

The morning began with dust, sunlight, and argument.

Rui stood in the clearing beside their cottage, sleeves rolled up, monocle glinting as intricate lines of magic unfurled from his fingertips like silver thread. Wood shaped itself obediently, beams lifting into the air, fitting together with seamless precision. Stones stacked without mortar, smoothing their own edges as if eager to please. It was efficient. Elegant. Perfect.

Tsukasa hated it.

“Rui,” he said sharply, arms crossed, brows knit. “You are using magic again.”

Rui didn’t even look at him. “Yes.”

“You said you would help build Saki’s cottage, not summon it into existence like a stage prop.”

Rui hummed, flicking his wrist to coax a window frame into place. “I am helping.”

Tsukasa marched closer, boots crunching against gravel. “Everything made with love brings good fortune. You cannot just—just—” He gestured vaguely at the floating beams. “Do this.”

Rui finally turned, blinking once. “My magic is mine,” he said calmly. “It comes from me. From my heart. Therefore, it is made with love.”

Tsukasa opened his mouth.

Closed it.

Then frowned harder. “That is not what I meant and you know it.”

Saki, sitting on a nearby log with her knees pulled up, burst out laughing. She had dirt on her cheek, hair tied back messily, wearing old pants that were clearly too long and one of Tsukasa’s worn shirts with the sleeves rolled up. She looked nothing like the noble girl she’d been forced to be—and she had never looked happier. “You two sound like an old married couple,” she teased.

Rui smiled sweetly. “We are an old married couple.”

“We are not old,” Tsukasa snapped automatically, then paused. “…And this is beside the point.”

He grabbed a plank from the pile and shoved it into Rui’s arms. “Use your hands.”

Rui stared at it like it had personally offended him.

“You will survive,” Tsukasa added.

Rui sighed dramatically. “Tragic. Reduced to manual labor by my own husband.”

Saki clapped. “Do it! Do it!”

Rui relented—mostly. He used his hands. He also used magic to steady the beams when Tsukasa wasn’t looking, to reinforce joints invisibly, to make sure the roof would never leak. Tsukasa noticed anyway, scolding him every time, while Rui argued back with infuriating logic and an affectionate glint in his eye. Their voices overlapped constantly, bickering and circling each other like it was the most natural rhythm in the world, and Saki watched them with a soft, full feeling in her chest she didn’t quite have a name for yet.

By afternoon, the frame of the cottage stood proudly but unfinished, walls half-complete, roof only partially set. Saki helped where she could, handing nails, holding boards steady, laughing when Tsukasa praised her grip like she was a fellow knight. Rui occasionally paused just to watch them, expression softening in a way he didn’t bother hiding.

By evening, exhaustion set in.

“It’s not done,” Saki said, a little disappointed but still smiling.

Tsukasa wiped sweat from his brow. “It will be,” he promised. “Tomorrow.”

Rui nodded. “You’ll stay with us again tonight.”

Saki’s smile widened. “Okay.”

The cottage filled with warmth as night settled in. Tsukasa moved into the kitchen like it was second nature, apron tied snugly around his waist, already planning the meal. Saki hovered nearby, hands clasped behind her back. “Can I help?” she asked.

Tsukasa paused, then nodded. “Yes. Come here.”

He showed her how to chop vegetables properly, how to keep her fingers safe, how to stir without splashing. She listened intently, mirroring his movements, laughing when she made mistakes and beaming when he nodded in approval. Rui leaned against the doorway, arms folded, watching the scene like it was the most precious illusion he’d ever witnessed.

Tsukasa was relaxed. Truly relaxed. His shoulders weren’t tense, his voice wasn’t clipped. He hummed under his breath as he cooked, occasionally bumping Saki’s shoulder gently when she drifted too close to the stove. Saki’s happiness radiated outward, infectious and bright, filling the cottage with something that felt like home.

Rui’s chest ached.

He hadn’t seen Tsukasa like this. Not fully. Not like this.

When dinner was served, they ate together at the small table, laughter spilling easily between them. Saki talked about the cottage, about where she wanted to put flowers, about how she wanted a little shelf for books. Tsukasa listened like every word mattered. Rui listened like he was memorizing the moment.

Later, as the fire crackled low and Saki curled up on the couch, half-asleep, Rui moved closer to Tsukasa and murmured, “You were right.”

Tsukasa glanced at him. “About what?”

Rui smiled faintly. “Love does bring good fortune.”

Tsukasa looked at Saki, then back at Rui. “…Yes,” he said quietly.

The cottage was quiet when they finally went to bed.

Saki had fallen asleep, curled up with a blanket that was far too big for her, the faint sound of her breathing steady and soft from the other room. The fire had burned down to embers, casting a low orange glow across the bedroom. Outside, the night insects hummed, a gentle, unintrusive chorus.

Tsukasa lay on his back beside Rui, hands folded over his chest, staring at the ceiling. Rui was on his side, facing him, monocle set aside, hair loose, one arm draped loosely over Tsukasa’s waist like it belonged there. For a while, neither of them spoke. It was the comfortable kind of silence, the kind that didn’t ask for words.

Then Tsukasa suddenly sat up.

Rui blinked, instantly alert. “Tsukasa?”

Tsukasa’s shoulders were shaking. When he turned, his eyes were wet, glassy in the dim light. His jaw was clenched so tightly Rui could see the muscle twitch. “I,” Tsukasa started, then swallowed hard. “I want to punch you.”

Rui sat up so fast the mattress dipped. “—What?”

His mind scrambled wildly, replaying the entire day. The cottage. The magic. The argument. Dinner. Had he said something wrong? Thought something wrong? Existed incorrectly? “I… I’m sorry?” he offered weakly, genuinely baffled. “I don’t—did I—”

Tsukasa didn’t answer.

Instead, he grabbed Rui by the front of his shirt and yanked him forward, arms wrapping around him with crushing force. Tsukasa buried his face into Rui’s shoulder, fingers curling like he was afraid Rui might vanish if he loosened his grip, and then the sobbing started—raw, unrestrained, tearing itself out of him.

Rui froze.

Tsukasa’s words came out broken, tumbling over each other. “You saved me,” he gasped. “You don’t understand—ever since I met you, everything—everything had a light again. Even the battlefield. Even the days I thought I was already dead inside. From the first time we fought together, to when I took you in, to when we married—every time you almost died—” His voice cracked completely. “I loved you every time. I love you now. I love you more than anything.”

Rui’s hands hovered uselessly in the air, his expression blank with shock.

Tsukasa clutched him tighter. “You brought Saki back. You brought her home. I don’t know how to repay you. I don’t know what I could possibly do that would ever be enough. I want to give you something—anything—and I don’t know how, and it hurts because you keep giving and giving and—”

He choked, pressing his forehead harder against Rui’s shoulder. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”

Rui sat there, utterly stunned, brain short-circuiting. This wasn’t the stoic knight he knew. This wasn’t even the softened Tsukasa he’d come to cherish. This was something bare, something unguarded, something that felt almost too intimate to witness.

Slowly, hesitantly, Rui wrapped his arms around Tsukasa.

He held him.

At first, he didn’t say anything. He didn’t know what to say. His heart was pounding so loudly it felt like Tsukasa must hear it. His confusion lingered, thick and disorienting, but beneath it was something warm, something aching, something dangerously close to overwhelming.

Then Tsukasa pulled back just enough to cup Rui’s face in his hands.

Before Rui could speak, Tsukasa leaned in and kissed him—soft, frantic kisses pressed everywhere but his lips. His cheek. His temple. The corner of his mouth. His nose. Each one clumsy and desperate, like Tsukasa was trying to pour years of unspoken affection into touch alone.

Rui’s face burned instantly. “T-Tsukasa—!”

Tsukasa didn’t stop. He kissed Rui’s forehead, but Rui then carefully leaned down and pressed a reverent kiss to the scar along Tsukasa’s own jaw—one Rui had traced countless times before, but never kissed like this.

Rui finally found his voice, quiet but steady, murmured directly against Tsukasa’s skin. “You don’t need to do anything.”

Tsukasa froze.

Rui lifted his head, monocle-less eyes soft, earnest, almost vulnerable. “You don’t need to repay me. You don’t need to prove anything.” His arms tightened around Tsukasa, holding him firmly, unquestionably. “Your existence is already more than enough for me.”

Tsukasa’s breath hitched.

Rui rested his forehead against Tsukasa’s, voice barely above a whisper. “You being here. Loving me. Choosing me.” A faint, trembling smile curved his lips. “That’s everything I want.”

Tsukasa let out a broken sound somewhere between a sob and a laugh and collapsed back into Rui’s arms, clinging to him like he finally understood he was allowed to. Rui held him through it all, confusion fading into something gentler, something certain.