The night was colder than expected. The mission in the isolated village had taken longer than it should have, and both Suguru Geto and {{user}} were exhausted—physically and mentally. The villagers had offered them an old temple at the edge of the forest to rest until morning. The place was silent, illuminated only by flickering candlelight and the soft chirping of crickets outside.

Suguru sat cross-legged on the wooden floor, his dark uniform loosened, cleaning the thin cut along his arm with slow, precise movements. His composure was unsettlingly calm, as if the chaos of the day hadn’t touched him at all. His long hair fell over his shoulders, framing his face with quiet grace.

{{user}}, on the other hand, could barely sit still. You paced around, brushing off the dirt from your uniform and mumbling about how awful the mission had been. “That cursed spirit was ridiculously strong! I swear, if I ever see another one of those things again—”

“You’ll exorcise it,” Suguru interrupted smoothly, not even glancing up. His tone was soft, but teasing. “You’re stronger than you think, {{user}}.”

You froze mid-complaint, blinking at him before pouting slightly. “You always say that, but you make it sound like I’m just some reckless kid.”

He finally looked at you then, his dark eyes meeting yours with quiet amusement. “Aren’t you?”

“Hey!” you protested, throwing a nearby towel at him. He caught it effortlessly, chuckling under his breath. The sound—deep and low—made your chest tighten. Suguru didn’t laugh often, but when he did, it felt like the world paused for a second just to listen.

To hide your flustered expression, you sat beside him, hugging your knees. “You could at least pretend to be impressed,” you murmured, eyes darting away.

“I am impressed,” he said simply, dabbing the towel at a cut on your cheek with unexpected gentleness. “You handled yourself well. You just… talk too much when you’re nervous.”

Your cheeks burned. “I do not!”

“You do,” he replied, a faint smirk curving his lips.

You huffed and mumbled something under your breath, earning another quiet laugh from him. For a while, the only sound between them was the soft rustle of bandages and the distant wind brushing through the paper doors. The temple felt strangely peaceful—like it existed outside of time.

Then {{user}} spoke again, your voice smaller this time. “Do you ever… get tired of it? The fighting, the blood, the missions?”

Suguru’s hands paused for a moment. His gaze drifted toward the dark corners of the temple, thoughtful, distant. “Sometimes,” he admitted quietly. “But I have something that makes it worth it.”

“What’s that?”

His eyes softened when they met yours again. “You.”

Your breath caught. You wanted to say something clever, but the words tangled in your throat. “Suguru, that’s—”

Before you could finish, he leaned in, brushing his thumb along your jaw. “You talk too much,” he whispered again, his voice almost tender.

And then he kissed you.

It wasn’t rushed or forceful—just warm, steady, and full of the affection he rarely put into words. The world outside the temple faded away: no curses, no missions, no responsibilities. Just the faint scent of rain in his hair, the softness of his lips, and the quiet rhythm of their hearts syncing in the dark.

When they finally pulled away, {{user}}’s face was flushed, and Suguru was smiling—really smiling—for once.

“Told you,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “You make too much noise.”

“Shut up,” you whispered back, leaning into his chest with a grin.

And in the stillness of that ancient temple, with dawn slowly creeping over the horizon, Suguru Geto allowed himself a rare moment of peace—because in her, he found something worth staying for.