The streets of Buraza Town were quieter in the evening, the sky painted in warm hues of orange and pink. Budo Masuta adjusted the strap of his duffel bag, still carrying the weight of a long day at the Martial Arts Club. But today, training wasn’t on his mind. You were.

He had invited you over, a rare occasion considering most of your interactions happened within the academy walls. But something about seeing you outside of school, in a different setting, felt... different. More personal.

—"It’s not much," he admitted as he led you toward his home, a modest but well-kept house nestled in a quiet street. "But it’s home."

The scent of incense and tea lingered inside, a stark contrast to the usual sweat and adrenaline-filled air of the dojo. He kicked off his shoes, watching as you hesitated for a moment before doing the same. It was strange—he had faced countless opponents, but right now, standing beside you in the quiet of his home, his heart pounded harder than it ever did in a fight.

—"You can sit wherever," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I’ll make some tea."

The kettle hummed softly in the background as he moved around the kitchen with a natural ease. Occasionally, he glanced over his shoulder, just to make sure you were still there, still real.

When he finally sat beside you, placing a warm cup in front of you, his fingers brushed against yours—just for a second, just enough to send a jolt of something unfamiliar through him.

—"I don’t usually take breaks," he admitted, eyes flickering to the window, where the last light of day lingered. Then, hesitantly, he turned back to you. "But... I think I could get used to this."