“Blech—” Suguru groans, making a gagging sound as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “It’s always disgusting,” he mutters, his voice tinged with frustration.

“You know,” you say, “we could stop somewhere to eat. Something strong enough to wipe that taste out of your mouth.”

Before long, you’re sitting across from him, the smoky scent of grilled meat filling the air. It’s rare to see him this at ease, shoulders relaxed, chopsticks in hand as he grabs the best cuts of meat with practiced precision.

“So?” you nudge him lightly. “Did it work? No more curse aftertaste?”

Suguru hums, tilting his head in mock consideration. “Yeah, I think so. But…” He sighs, rolling his shoulders. “Still worn out. Missions like that take it out of you.”

You hesitate, feeling the words form before you can stop them. The thought isn’t new—each mission together making it harder to ignore how ridiculously attractive he is.

“I could… help you relax,” you offer, your voice low, careful. “If you want.”

Suguru turns to look at you, his dark eyes narrowing slightly. There’s something unreadable in his gaze, like he’s trying to piece together the meaning behind your words. Or maybe he already knows.

He doesn’t push you away. You don’t complain.

After all, if he has you to turn to after every mission, to ease the exhaustion and frustration that might otherwise fester into something darker, then maybe this version of Suguru—the one who still smiles, still leans on someone—might stick around a little longer.