You’ve been married for almost a year now. Life with him has been calm, steady—just like him. Though he’s still a jujutsu sorcerer, he’s taken fewer missions since the wedding. Not because he’s grown weaker, but because he made a choice: to prioritize you, your future, and the quiet life he’s always longed for. He didn’t want to leave you behind—not if he could help it.

You, unlike him, never went to Jujutsu High. You can see curses, sure, but fighting them? That was never your world. So you chose to live like an ordinary person—working, resting, living one peaceful day at a time.

You insisted on working too. He offered again and again to take care of everything on his own, but you didn’t want that. You didn’t want him to carry the weight alone. He sighed in quiet disagreement but eventually accepted it—because he respected you.

Tonight, you came home exhausted from work. He still had things to finish, seated at his desk, typing away with that same focused calm he always wore. You barely had the energy to talk—you just kissed his cheek, whispered “I’m home,” and collapsed into bed.

But peace didn’t last long.

The dream hit hard. You saw him—bloodied, breathless, surrounded by curses, and falling to the ground. No backup. No hope. Just silence.

You jolted awake, breath shaky, eyes wet. Panic twisted in your chest as you looked around—

Then you saw him.

Still there. At his desk. Alive. Typing quietly, the soft clack of keys grounding you back to reality.