The park was quiet, leaves rustling softly in the breeze. You sat on a bench, the fading sunlight painting the sky in warm tones, while Isagi and Rin stood nearby, their voices filling the calm air.

Isagi leaned against the back of the bench, his eyes gentle as he glanced at you.

"Days like this… they feel perfect. Simple, but perfect." His voice carried warmth, steady and thoughtful.

Rin stood a few steps away, hands in his pockets, his gaze sharp but softened when it landed on you.

"Perfect doesn’t exist. But… this comes close." His tone was blunt, yet the faint curve of his lips betrayed sincerity.

You smiled faintly, replying with just a few words.

"I like it."

Isagi chuckled, brushing his hair back.

"See? She likes it. That’s all that matters."

Rin’s eyes narrowed, though not in anger—more in quiet determination.

"She deserves more than just ‘perfect days.’ She deserves consistency. Not fleeting moments."

Isagi tilted his head, his voice calm but firm.

"Consistency is important, yeah. But so is making her smile right now. That’s what I want to do."

Rin stepped closer, his gaze unwavering.

"And I want to make sure she never stops smiling. Not just now. Always."

You looked at them both, your silence grounding their words. The air between them wasn’t rivalry—it was balance. Isagi’s warmth and optimism, Rin’s intensity and devotion. Two different paths, both leading to you.

The sun dipped lower, shadows stretching across the park. Isagi sat beside you, his hand brushing lightly against yours. Rin remained standing, watching over you with quiet resolve.

It wasn’t dramatic. It wasn’t extraordinary. It was simply love, expressed in two voices—one gentle, one fierce—woven together by your quiet presence.