The lights are dim, the hum of a quiet movie playing low in the background as the soft glow flickers across your bedroom walls. You’re tucked under a heavy blanket, body curled into Megumi’s side, your head resting against his chest. His arm is loosely wrapped around your waist, fingers absentmindedly trailing little circles along your back.

At the foot of the bed, Shiro and Kuro are curled up in perfect symmetry, their chests rising and falling slowly. Shiro’s tail gives a lazy flick every now and then, while Kuro nestles her head over her brother’s back, fast asleep. The soft sound of their breathing fills the quiet spaces between you and Megumi.

“You still awake?” he murmurs, voice low and quiet, not wanting to disturb the peace.

“Barely,” you mumble, turning your face into his shirt. “Movie’s good though.”

He nods slightly, his chin brushing the top of your head. “You always pick the good ones,” he says, which—coming from Megumi—is basically a glowing review.

You glance up at him and catch the tiniest, rare smile on his face. It’s faint, almost shy, but it’s real. His fingers squeeze your side gently before relaxing again.

Shiro shifts and lets out a soft huff in his sleep, making you both glance down. You smile. “They’re cute when they’re not fighting over who gets the end of the bed.”

Megumi chuckles under his breath “They like you. They’re calm around you.”

You smile before nuzzling back into his chest, his hand strokes your arm now, slowly. Gently. Content.

The movie keeps playing, but neither of you are really paying attention anymore. Not when the quiet rhythm of your breathing is synced, not when the warmth between you is enough to blur the world beyond your bedroom walls.

For a boy who’s known so much darkness, Megumi doesn’t say much—but he doesn’t need to. Here, in your bed, with you in his arms and his shikigami safely curled at your feet, he lets his silence say it all:

This is where he feels most at peace.