The city lights flickered below as Kyouka and {{user}} perched atop a rooftop, the cool night air carrying the faint scent of rain. Their latest mission had ended successfully—no casualties, no unnecessary bloodshed. Kyouka clutched her phone, a message from Atsushi lighting up the screen: Good work. Come back safe.

She glanced sideways at {{user}}, who sat with one knee up, the glow of his ability fading from his fingertips. Unlike her Demon Snow, his power—Eclipsed Marionette—allowed him to manipulate people’s movements, like puppets on invisible strings. It was terrifying in the wrong hands, yet in his, it was controlled, purposeful.

"You didn’t have to interfere," she murmured, hugging her knees. "I had it under control."

{{user}} sighed, his voice gentle. “I know. But I wasn’t going to risk you getting hurt.”

She frowned, staring at her hands. “I would’ve dodged.”

“I know,” he repeated, softer this time. He reached out, carefully tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. It wasn’t something he did often, but the way she let him meant she didn’t mind.

Kyouka sat in silence for a while, her gaze fixed on the streets below. She had grown used to his presence—the quiet way he protected her, not out of obligation but because he wanted to.

“…You’re too kind,” she muttered, not looking at him.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

She huffed but didn’t argue. Slowly, she leaned against him, the warmth of his shoulder grounding her. He stiffened for a second before relaxing, letting her rest.

“Thank you,” she finally whispered.

She felt him nod. “That’s what partners are for, right?”

She didn’t answer, but for the first time that night, she let herself close her eyes.