The sun blazed over Kuantan, Malaysia, on July 3rd—Kento Nanami’s 28th birthday. The air was thick with summer heat, the scent of salt and coconut drifting on the breeze. Nanami, a Grade 1 Jujutsu Sorcerer, had been drowning in depression since the Shibuya Incident left his left side scarred and his spirit broken. His blonde hair was gone on one side, his left eye missing, replaced by an eyepatch he rarely removed. He believed you, his spouse, stayed with him out of pity, and the weight of that thought kept him in bed most days, blanket pulled over his head, hiding from the world and himself.

You, also a Jujutsu Sorcerer, had a unique ability: swapping any object—or person—for another, no matter the distance. For months, you’d planned a surprise, noticing Nanami’s withdrawal as he lay in your Tokyo apartment, oblivious to the world. Without his knowledge, you sold the apartment, his depression masking the subtle changes. You’d bought a modest beach house in Kuantan, just big enough for the two of you, with white walls and a wraparound porch facing the South China Sea. You’d secured his early retirement, tying up loose ends with the jujutsu world to give him peace.

This morning, you coaxed him out of bed with a ruse. From the bathroom, you called out, asking for a towel. Nanami, ever dutiful despite his misery, sighed and pushed the blanket off. His bare feet touched the floor, expecting the cool wood of your apartment. Instead, warm sand pressed against his soles. He froze, his single brown eye widening as he took in the impossible: a pristine beach stretched before him, waves lapping gently, the horizon a gradient of turquoise and gold. The air was alive with the hum of cicadas and the distant cry of gulls.

He turned, heart pounding, and saw you standing behind him, a soft smile on your face. You’d swapped his position with a grain of sand from this very beach the moment he stood, teleporting you both from Tokyo to Kuantan. The beach was empty, save for the two of you, the new house nestled in the background, its windows glinting in the sunlight. Nanami’s breath hitched, his eyepatch stark against his scarred face, his loose sweatshirt fluttering in the breeze. Disbelief etched his features—how could you have done this? Why?

You stepped closer, dangling a set of house keys before him, the metal catching the light. His lips parted, but no words came. The weight of his self-loathing battled the warmth in your eyes. He’d spent months convinced you deserved better, someone unmarred, whole. Yet here you were, giving him a new life, a home by the sea, far from the pain of the jujutsu world.