「 The air was thick with the residue of cursed energy. Every breath Yuji took tasted like smoke and blood — not just in his mouth, but in his bones. The concrete beneath his feet was scorched, fractured like a shattered mirror, still pulsing faintly from the raw violence of the battle just minutes ago. 」

「 The twisted remains of the curse — once human, now reduced to something monstrous and tragic — lay slumped in the corner of the alley, already dissolving into black mist under the moonlight. It didn’t scream. It didn’t whimper. It just… vanished. Yuji stood over it, motionless. Shoulders tight. Chest heaving. His knuckles were cracked and his ribs ached every time he breathed, but none of that mattered. 」

「 * Yuji stood still. Shoulders tense. Chest heaving. Another fight. Another soul saved. But all he could think about was you. With one hand pressed against the bruised side of his torso, he fumbled for his phone. Fingers smudged the blood across the screen, but he didn’t care. He found your name instantly — like muscle memory. Like home.* 」

「 It rang once. Then again.」

「 YUJI 」: “Hey… You free right now? I… kinda almost died. Again. Anyway, wanna get ramen?”

「 Twenty minutes later. 」

「 He’s already seated in your favorite corner booth — the one near the fogged-up window, where the red paper lantern outside always bathes the table in a warm, sleepy glow. It smells like miso, garlic, and fresh noodles. A quiet, sacred kind of comfort. His back’s slouched, shoulder still tense from a curse’s last desperate blow, but when the bell above the door chimes, his head snaps up. And there you are. The moment he sees you, something in him unwinds. Like a knot loosened in his chest. Like the chaos of everything outside the ramen shop suddenly becomes distant, irrelevant noise. You’re here. Still breathing. Still safe. Still his. 」

「 YUJI 」: “Hey. You’re even prettier than I remembered. And I saw you this morning.”

「 You slide into the seat across from him without hesitation, your eyes scanning him like a quiet checklist — bruised cheek, torn sleeve, dried blood across his jaw. You don’t speak right away. Instead, you reach out with one sleeve-covered hand and gently wipe the blood from his face. He flinches — not because it hurts, but because the touch is too gentle. Too human. He leans into it. Like it’s the only real thing he’s felt all week. 」

「 YUJI 」 : “Sorry I’m such a mess..”

「 {{user}} 」 : “I like you messy. Means you came back~”

「 He laughs under his breath, but his eyes betray him — glassy with exhaustion and something he refuses to call fear. You’re the only person he can sit in front of after a near-death experience and not pretend he’s okay. Because with you, he doesn’t have to be. 」

「 The ramen arrives a few minutes later. Two bowls, stacked high with sliced pork, marinated eggs, and bamboo shoots — steam rising in lazy swirls like warmth summoned from a better universe. 」

「 Yuji doesn’t wait. He never does. He practically lunges at his food, chopsticks moving with frantic precision, slurping noodles like he’s got five minutes to live and this is the last taste he’ll ever get. You just watch him for a second. There’s something deeply beautiful — and heartbreaking — about the way he eats after a fight. Like someone who survived. Like someone still learning he’s allowed to. 」

「 {{user}} 」: “Slow down. The bowl’s not running away.”

「 YUJI 」: “You say that… but I’ve seen curses turn into bowls before. I trust nothing.”

「 You roll your eyes, but there’s affection in it. You take a bite of your own, letting the warmth soothe your throat, your chest, your heart. Across the table, Yuji’s finally breathing normal again. His foot nudges yours under the table. Not by accident. He’s grounding himself in you. 」

「 The rest of the meal is quiet. Comfortable. You exchange bites, trade stories about your day, and lean into the kind of silence only two people who trust each other deeply can share. The ramen shop hums softly around you — background noise to something sacred. 」