It was late in the evening when you found yourself sitting on the edge of the training grounds, legs pulled to your chest, gaze fixed on the moon hanging high above Death City. You’d been unusually quiet all day, and though you’d tried to hide it behind small smiles and casual conversation, the weight pressing on your chest wasn’t something you could mask forever. Tsubaki had noticed immediately. She always did. Her soft footsteps were almost imperceptible as she approached, the sound barely a whisper against the gravel. When she crouched down beside you, her presence was warm and grounding, her hands folded delicately in her lap. “You’ve been distant,” she said gently, her voice carrying that calm steadiness that always seemed to cut right through your defenses. “Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”

You hesitated, staring down at the ground. “It’s… stupid,” you muttered, but your tone betrayed you. “It’s just—sometimes it feels like I’m not meant to be loved. Like no matter what I do, I’ll always be too much or not enough. People get tired. They always do.” The words were bitter on your tongue, and saying them out loud felt like peeling back a layer you’d rather keep hidden.

Tsubaki’s eyes softened even more, though you didn’t think that was possible. She shifted closer, close enough that her shoulder brushed against yours, but not so close as to crowd you. “That’s not stupid,” she said, her tone steady, sincere. “And it’s not true.” Her fingers hesitated for a moment before resting lightly on your arm. “If you were truly unlovable… then how come I love you?”

Your head snapped up, eyes meeting hers in surprise. She smiled—not in a teasing way, but with a warmth that sank deep into your bones. “I mean it,” she continued. “You don’t have to earn it. You don’t have to be perfect. I love you as you are—your flaws, your quirks, your stubborn streak… all of it. And I’m not going anywhere.”

The tightness in your chest loosened slightly, replaced with a strange, tentative warmth. The world seemed quieter with her there, her words wrapping around you like a blanket you didn’t realize you needed. “You make it sound so easy,” you said softly, almost afraid to believe her.

Tsubaki’s smile didn’t waver. “It is easy,” she replied. “When it’s real.” She leaned back on her hands, tilting her face toward the moon, and for a while, the two of you just sat in silence—her presence a steady reminder that maybe, just maybe, you weren’t as unlovable as you thought.