Chapter Text
Light entered slowly through the curtains, filtered into golden tones that looked like magical dust floating in the air.
Natsume blinked, feeling first the pleasant morning chill… and then the absence of the body that was usually beside him.
He realized he was naked under the wrinkled sheets, his skin still warm from the night before.
A familiar scent, warm and simple, wrapped around him before he could worry.
Food.
Home.
Tsumugi.
And then he heard it.
A soft, almost shy humming coming from the kitchen.
A melody with no name, but one he had known for years. It was the sound Tsumugi made when he was calm. When he was happy.
Natsume smiled without realizing it.
For a moment he remembered who Tsumugi once was.
That broken piece of furniture, that forgotten child, that silent shadow that he —with clumsy hands and inexperienced love— had tried to repair.
He knew nothing about real magic, but he had discovered that happiness had the power to mend cracks.
That two broken people could hold each other without shattering again.
And he remembered who he had been.
Jealous.
Possessive.
Always comparing himself, always feeling like others shone brighter.
Always afraid that Tsumugi would find someone better—someone less chaotic, less insecure.
It had been a slow poison, burning him from within.
But not that morning.
That morning, Natsume got out of bed and walked barefoot toward the kitchen, guided by the scent of toast and blueberries, and by the sound of Tsumugi’s humming for no one except him.
When he saw him from behind, with his hair messy from sleep and the golden light embracing him through the window, something soft exploded in his chest.
Without thinking, Natsume wrapped his arms around Tsumugi’s waist and rested his forehead against his back.
Warmth flooded him.
Tsumugi’s heart beat slowly, steadily, as if it had never been a broken heart.
“Natsume-kun… “Tsumugi whispered, turning his head slightly, smiling with a sweetness that seemed made only for him.
“MorniNG…” Natsume murmured, his voice rough, gentler than he intended.
Tsumugi placed a slice of toast on the plate and turned slightly within his arms, just enough to give him a soft, quick kiss on the cheek, like the touch of dawn.
“Did you sleep well?”
Natsume was about to answer with a joke, some teasing remark or flirty comment to hide the tremor in his chest…
but then Tsumugi handed him a slice of toast with blueberry jam.
Natsume’s favorite.
Made by Tsumugi.
With those hands that once trembled to hold onto life… and now worked to make it sweeter.
And in that moment—simple, domestic, perfect—all his insecurity disappeared.
There was no one better.
No one else.
Nothing to fear.
They were together.
By choice.
By love.
By mutual survival
They were happy.
And the magic, at last, worked for them both.