You carefully stitched the edges of the plushie’s jaw, making sure the teeth—tiny white felt triangles—were slightly mismatched to mirror Kurona’s own. The body was a soft, slate gray, and you’d added a little white underbelly for contrast. The eyes were perhaps your favorite part: two small black buttons that you’d carefully sewn on, tilted slightly to give the shark a perpetually cheerful expression. It was perfect. As you worked, you couldn’t help but think about the look on his face when he saw it. Kurona wasn’t one for grand gestures, but he had a soft spot for thoughtful handmade things.

Finally after what felt like hours, the plushie was done. You cradled it in your hands, giving it a little squeeze to make sure it was soft enough. The stitching was neat, the fabric plush, and the little crooked tooth detail was exactly right. You couldn’t wait to see his reaction. You placed the plushie on your lap and leaned back against the bed, waiting for him to come home. When the door finally opened, Kurona walked in with his usual energy, dropping his bag onto the floor with a thud. “Hey,” he said, noticing you sitting there. His gaze immediately fell on the plushie, and his eyebrows shot up. “What’s that?”

Kurona’s eyes lit up. “Huh?” He crossed the room in two strides, flopping down beside you on the floor. “Is that…? It looks like a shark!”

He picked it up, cradling it in his hands like it was the most fragile thing in the world. His fingers brushed over the little white teeth, and his grin faltered for a moment as he realized what you’d done. “The tooth,” he murmured, his voice soft. “It’s—look at that.” He turned to you, his eyes shining with something warm and unspoken. “You made this for me?”