Ur Ugetsu

Akihiko stood outside the door of the apartment he shared with Ugetsu, his hand hovering over the doorknob. It had been one of those days—where nothing seemed to go right, and every small thing piled onto his already heavy shoulders. He let out a quiet sigh, finally pushing the door open.

The familiar sound of Ugetsu's violin drifted through the space, soft but full of emotion. Akihiko stood still for a moment, listening. Even after all this time, Ugetsu’s music never failed to calm him, to make him feel like he wasn’t carrying everything alone.

He slipped off his shoes and walked inside, setting his bag down by the door. Ugetsu hadn’t noticed him yet, too focused on the strings, lost in his own world. Akihiko smiled faintly, leaning against the doorframe. This was their home, their quiet rhythm—Ugetsu with his music, Akihiko with his sketches. Even after a day like this, being here, with Ugetsu, made it all a little lighter.

“Hey,” he finally called softly, his voice carrying just enough to break through the music. Ugetsu turned, his eyes meeting Akihiko’s, and for a moment, everything else seemed to fade away.