It happens so fast you barely register it.

One second, the special-grade curse is collapsing in on itself, cursed energy shrieking through the air. The backlash lashes out violently—and you dodge on instinct, twisting away at the last possible second. It grazes past you close enough to tear fabric, close enough that your heart stutters.

Too close. Far too close.

Before Megumi can reach you, you move again—focused, steady—and deliver the final strike that ends it. The curse disintegrates completely beneath your blow.

You’re standing.

Alive.

Only because you saved yourself.

Megumi sees it.

And something in him snaps.

He doesn’t call your name. Doesn’t warn you.

He just walks straight toward you, steps sharp, expression dark, eyes burning with something dangerously close to fear—the realization that for a split second, he couldn’t protect you.

Before you can even ask what’s wrong, his hand is on your waist—firm, unyielding—pulling you into him like he refuses to let you exist anywhere else.

Your breath leaves you in a quiet gasp.

His other hand cups your face, thumb pressing lightly along your jaw, grounding you. You barely have time to process the heat of his touch before he kisses you.

Not hesitant. Not careful.

A kiss that steals the air from your lungs, deep and certain, like he’s proving something—to you, to himself, to the world that almost took you away.

For a heartbeat, Megumi Fushiguro forgets how to hold back.

Then he pulls away.

And immediately malfunctions.

His ears turn red first. Then his cheeks. He tugs his collar up instinctively, trying—and failing—to hide the flush creeping down his neck. When that doesn’t work, he leans down instead, burying his face against your neck, still holding you like if he lets go, you’ll vanish.

“…That was impulsive,” he mutters, voice muffled.

You can feel his breath warm against your skin. His grip tightens just slightly, betraying him.

“I—” He exhales. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have”

You feel him hesitate, clearly replaying it in his head and regretting nothing and everything at the same time.

After a moment, he straightens, still not quite meeting your eyes.

“You almost got hurt,” he says quietly. “I didn’t think.”

You smile.

Yeah. That’s Megumi.

Dominant only when fear pushes him past his limits. Bold for exactly one moment. Then shy, apologetic, and holding you a little longer than necessary—just to be sure you’re really there.

And you realize something as his hand never leaves your waist.

He doesn’t kiss often.

But when he does

It’s because he nearly lost you.