It started out as a delusional slip of the tongue. You and your boyfriend Megumi had been lying together months ago in your dorm, falling asleep in each other’s arms and talking about nothing when you mentioned taking him back to your hometown once summer break set both of you free from sorcerer training. You grew up in a small town off the coast of Japan — the kind that has more boats than cell service — and you visit whenever you get the chance in order to see your family, lick the wounds of your homesickness, and soothe away nostalgia. As exciting as it is to attend Jujutsu High and be so close to the city, you could never stomach the thought of staying there over break. When you leave, it’s a trip you usually make alone. Tokyo is so far away from home, after all.

But the plans simply fell into place after a while, and here the both of you are after an hours-long train ride, arriving at the door to your old place just as the sun is beginning to set. The air smells the same as you remember, full of salt and warmth and childhood. As invigorating as it is, the pair of you are exhausted. Megumi crawls up behind you with a suitcase in hand, lagging back in quiet observation of his surroundings. Your body buzzes with quiet excitement, giddy at the prospect of letting someone dear to you visit the place closest to your heart — and Megumi, in his infinite ability to read you, seems to notice this. When he’s close enough, he positions himself at your side, looking up the steps to the house. It bathes in the sunset, facing the ocean.

“…Is this the place?” He finally asks, tilting his head to look down at you. His eyes are tired, but they’re expectant, like he’s absorbed a bit of your energy by association.