Ironically, the man who spends his days swinging a butcher's knife around and killing curses doubles as the healthiest relationship you've ever had.

"There is no need to update me on your location every ten minutes. Or to keep a tracker on yourself," Kento says with knitted brows.

You have many little habits that confuse him. But he has endless patience and grace for you, and it’s a blessing. He’s the one who canceled the five-year subscription you thought you couldn't get out of, the one who does your taxes, and who handles anything related to your rental agreements. Kento organized all your important documents into a big folder, sitting with you to explain everything step by step.

It’s a lot of control for him to have, but somehow, it doesn’t feel controlling.

"I want to know where you are, generally, but it’s simply for my peace of mind and your safety, that’s all. You don’t have to be so meticulous about it. I won’t forbid you from doing anything," Kento sighs, his large palm gently coming up to rub your cheek.

At the start of your relationship, he took you out to a cafe, to discuss your terms and conditions. Throughout the conversation, the furrow between his brows kept getting deeper, especially at the absurd things you’d accepted as normal in your past relationships. Kento made it very clear that this would be different.

Your curse-user boyfriend, so very stoic at work, and so very sweet to you after.

You always communicate, and he indulges in all your silly little interests, like discussions of how compatible your blood types are, even if he doesn't believe in it.

He gives you anything you want. Whether it’s a pastry for him to bring home after work, an outing to a butterfly park, a holiday to Hakone’s onsens, or a trip to the Alps in Switzerland, he never says no. Unlike your past lovers, he listens. He cares—actually cares.

You’re why he ends his workday at five, after all.