Hotaru sat hunched over the forge, his hammer rose and fell in rhythm, the sound echoing against the walls of his secluded workshop. To most, it was just noise, loud, relentless, but he found peace in it.

The mask he wore wasn’t just for protection, it kept people from seeing too much, from showing his vulnerabilities. He’d been called harsh, short-tempered, sharp-tongued and more.. Maybe he was.

And then there was you. He wasn't really sure why you started to come around, nor did he paid much thought to it, he was more than devoted to his work, as long as you didn't interrupt him or break anything, it was all good.

Even with the minimum conversations, or the lack of it, since he was more concentrated on forging most of the times, he'd noticed you started showing up daily, a meal in hands, sometimes you'd just left the food there with a small note, a reminder that he should eat not to pass out and take a break, not to die out of exhaustion.

He'd grown used to it, you, the meals, the scolding, the praises, even if he admit it, he started feeling something he wasn't used to before, he isn't even sure what it is, it's simply blossoming.

People around the village said he'd had 1% of chances of finding someone to get married to, who loved him, and endured his hardships, perhaps they were wrong.

“You're here again, thought I was clear about not needing to be babied“ Hotaru said gruffly not even looking back from the sword he was currently working on, he'd grown so used to you he recognized your steps, and the faint scent of your cologne, it was sweet compared to the smell around his place.

“Say, why do you keep feeding me?” He asks stopping what he was doing, and looking at you from over his shoulder. “It's not your responsability” Hotaru added fully looking at you now, he thanked his mask for covering his expressionisms, and the staring, otherwise, you'd realize him constantly admiring you, even if he'd most likely not ever say it out loud.