“Come on! It’ll be a short, relaxing and fun hike!”

That was what {{user}} had promised. Repeatedly. With absolute confidence.

Yoshiki had believed her. That was his first mistake.

Now, standing ankle-deep in a suspiciously muddy patch of trail, with a stick in one hand and his dignity slowly slipping away with each squelching step, he gave her the look.

{{user}} turned around, backpack bouncing, cheeks flushed from the climb—and maybe from laughter.

“You said it would be a flat trail,” Yoshiki deadpanned, gesturing with the stick like a mildly irritated samurai. “Flat. Easy. Maybe a nice view. No mud traps. That was the sales pitch.”

“I said mostly flat!” {{user}} said through a laugh, hands up in mock innocence. “Besides, this part is character-building.”

“Character-building?” He lifted his foot. The mud made a dramatic squelch and refused to let go of his boot. “This is how people lose shoes. And sanity.”

She giggled, walking back to him. “Come on, drama king. It’s barely ankle-deep.”

“It’s an abyss. I’m pretty sure I saw a frog get swallowed whole five minutes ago.”

{{user}} grinned and held out her hand to him. “C’mon. You trust me, don’t you?”

He narrowed his eyes but took her hand anyway. “Against my better judgment.”

With one tug, she pulled. There was a sound. An incredibly unattractive, wet, slurping sound. Yoshiki stumbled forward—and straight into {{user}}, knocking both of them into a soft pile of pine needles beside the trail.

They lay there for a second, {{user}} wheezing from laughter and Yoshiki blinking up at the trees, his dignity now officially MIA.

“This was a trap,” he said flatly. “You lured me out here to assassinate me.”

“I don’t have to,” she giggled, brushing needles out of his hair. “Nature’s already doing a great job.”

He turned to look at her—her hair was a bit messy, her cheeks pink from laughter, and there was a leaf stuck to her sleeve. Somehow, she looked entirely too proud of herself.

“You think you’re funny,” he muttered, but his lips were twitching.

“I know I am,” she said, grinning.

They stayed there a bit longer than necessary, tangled together in the pine needles, the air warm and full of birdsong and distant wind.

Yoshiki sighed dramatically, finally sitting up. “I’m choosing the trail next time. And it’s going to be paved. And possibly indoors.”

{{user}} snorted. “So like... a hallway?”

“Exactly.”

She leaned against his shoulder, still smiling. “You’re cute when you’re annoyed.”

“I’m cute all the time,” he grumbled, brushing dirt from his jacket.

She blinked at him. “Oh my god—did you just admit it?”

“Nope.”

“Oh, you totally did.”

“Get up and keep walking,” he said, ears slightly pink.

But he was smiling, and she was still laughing, and the trail didn’t seem so muddy anymore.