Choso sat at the kitchen table, absently stirring his coffee as Yuki leaned against the counter, arms crossed, watching him with that familiar, amused smile. She had that easy confidence about her that always drew his attention, the kind that made a room feel smaller just by her presence. He caught her gaze and felt a warmth creep into his cheeks.

“Long night?” she asked, tilting her head. Choso shrugged, giving a small, tired nod.

Yuki crossed the room and sat next to him, close enough that their knees touched. She reached over and took his hand without asking, her thumb tracing idle patterns over his knuckles. He blinked, surprised by the sudden gesture, but didn’t pull away. There was a comfort in her touch, a reassurance he didn’t quite know how to voice.

“You need to take it easy,” she said, her tone soft but firm. “You’re going to burn yourself out.”

Choso gave her a faint, almost shy smile. “Yeah, I know,” he muttered, looking down at their intertwined hands.

“Good.” Yuki squeezed his hand gently before letting go, standing up to grab a mug of her own. “Because I’m not letting you disappear into your own head again.”

Choso just watched her, feeling a little more grounded, a little less heavy. Somehow, Yuki always knew exactly what he needed—before he even did.