The Grand Canyon sky was too damn blue.

Daisuke stood at the edge of the wooden platform, jacket flapping in the wind, sunglasses halfway down his nose, and a headache starting to crawl between his eyebrows.

Across from him, {{user}} was already in her harness. Bouncing slightly. Grinning wildly. Like she wasn’t standing on the edge of a goddamn cliff.

That was the red flag. That was the international warning sign for: “I’m about to risk my life again, please panic accordingly.”

"We could’ve just stayed in the hotel,” he muttered. “Ordered room service. Sat in a jacuzzi. Like sane, married people.”

She didn’t answer—of course she didn’t. Just threw him that stupid, radiant smile of hers and turned back to the instructor.

God, he hated how much he loved that smile.

His heart was already thudding like a war drum and she hadn’t even jumped yet.

"Why did I marry you,” he muttered, one hand pressed to his forehead.

But he knew why. He always knew why.

She was fire. She was chaos. She was the opposite of everything quiet and calculated in his life. And he wouldn’t trade a single second of it.

Then it happened. One second she was there, and the next—gone. Just air and a blur of motion. Body tense, eyes locked on the blur of her falling like gravity was dragging his entire soul down with her.

The cord snapped tight, and there she was—swinging back up, hair flying, laughing like a lunatic. And of course she waved at him.

He closed his eyes. "I’ve fought terrorists. Chased arms dealers. Got shot at in Hong Kong. But this? This is what’s gonna kill me.”