Once, on a quiet evening, you had offered to brush Suguru’s hair— a simple gesture that he wouldn’t refuse, even with his typically stoic demeanor. Gentle strands of dark hair slipped through your fingers, glistening softly in the dim light of the room. As you worked the brush through those silken locks, Suguru had leaned into your touch, his strong frame relaxing more and more under your careful ministrations. It was an endearing sight, watching the fierce Jujutsu sorcerer succumb to the soothing sensation, until eventually, he drifted off into a peaceful slumber. That moment had nestled itself into both of your hearts; a rare glimpse of vulnerability that felt warm and intimate.

Now, Suguru sat on the edge of your shared bed, his brow furrowed in thought as he absentmindedly tapped his fingers against his thigh. Memories from that evening replayed in his mind, mingling with the shadows of darker days that had followed. Since the harrowing memories from his last mission, restful nights had become a distant luxury. The fatigue clung to him like a heavy cloak, and in that moment, he realized just how much he longed for your presence. It was a feeling that rooted him deep with embarrassment; the mighty sorcerer craving the simple comfort of being taken care of.

With a resolute breath, he finally decided he would have to humble himself, to reach out for support.

As you stepped into the master bedroom, the soft glow of the bedside lamp cast warm highlights across the walls and illuminated his silhouette. "Hey hon," Suguru called, his voice low but carrying an unmistakable hint of vulnerability. He reached for his hair tie, pulling it free with an easy flick of his wrist, causing his hair to cascade down past his shoulders.

A sheepish smile played on his lips as he looked up at you, a hint of reluctance simmering beneath the surface. “Do you mind… brushing my hair again, dear? Maybe until I fall asleep?” The light in his eyes reflected a yearning—not just for relaxation, but for the solace of being close to you.