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The rhythmic clang of metal on metal echoed through the training grounds as Yuuta sparred with Gojo. They were evenly matched, though Yuuta knew his ex-teacher was holding back, his Infinity a constant, frustrating barrier.
“You’re getting sloppy, Yuuta!” Gojo taunted, effortlessly dodged the katana. “Is married life making you soft?”
Yuuta tightened his grip around the hilt of the blade. “I’m not married,” His voice tight. “And Maki would thrash you, pregnant or not.”
“Oh, I have no doubt. She’s terrifying.”
Just as Gojo was about to unleash his infamous “Hollow Purple” technique (much to his rival chagrin), a figure emerged from the shadows, his familiar silhouette instantly recognizable. It was Megumi.
“Sensei, can I… talk to you? And… senpai, if you have a moment. I need your advice.”
Gojo immediately held his hand aloft, freezing Yuuta mid-attack. “Advice? From me? You flatter me.”
“Sensei, please. I’m about to get Hollow Purple-d into oblivion here.” His rival let out an exasperated sigh.
“Patience, kid.”
“Fine. So, Megumi,” The man lowered the katana. “Shoot.”
Megumi hesitated, “It’s about Nobara. We’ve been dating… for a month now. But… we haven’t… kissed.”
Gojo burst out laughing, a loud, boisterous sound that echoed through the training grounds. “A month?” he exclaimed, wiping a tear from his eye. “And you still haven’t made your move, Megumi? I’m disappointed!”
Yuuta, on the other hand, was utterly bewildered. A month? And no kiss? How was that even possible? His relationship with Maki had progressed at a much… faster pace. They'd been dating for seven years, lived together shortly after graduation. The decision to have a child, Shun, had been a mutual one. Marriage was the only box left unticked on the relationship checklist, and frankly, neither of them felt particularly compelled to rush into that formality.
“Give him a break, sensei. It’s not always easy.”
Gojo clapped Megumi on the shoulder. “My advice? Just go for it! Sweep her off her feet! Plant one on her! Women love that stuff!”
However, his student can’t help but frown, doubting the effectiveness of such a… direct approach. Maki would probably punch anyone who tried to “sweep her off her feet” without prior warning.
“Maybe… a more subtle approach?” Yuuta then suggested. “Perhaps… a conversation? Expressing your feelings?”
“Feelings? Where’s the fun in that? Just grab her and kiss her, Megumi! It’s the Gojo way!”
They didn't know that the Megumi was starting to panic. He’d replayed countless scenarios in his mind, each more disastrous than the last. What if he missed her mouth entirely and accidentally kissed her nose? What if his breath smelled like dog food (he’d been spending a lot of time with his Divine Dogs lately)? What if she laughed? Or worse, what if she didn’t feel anything?
So he glared at his sensei. “It’s not that simple,” he muttered. “I don’t want to… mess it up.”
"How are you teaching people?" Yuuta questioned his sensei before turning to Megumi. “And why are you asking me for advice?”
Megumi continued. “You’re both… in relationships. Successful ones. So, how do I… you know…?”
“Yuuta, you’ve been with Maki for years, haven’t you?” Gojo said. “And you even have a kid! You two even live together! You guys are practically married! You’re the expert here!”
“Well, when you put it like that…” He paused, scratching his head. “Honestly, Megumi, I’m not even sure how we made it this far. Maki… she’s… not exactly the… affectionate type.”
“Sorry, kouhai. I’m not sure I’m the best person to ask for romantic advice.” Yuuta continued, “Just listen to your heart. And maybe… don’t listen to Gojo.”
Gojo pouted. “Hey! I’m the only married man here! I know a thing or two about romance!”
Megumi nodded slowly, though he didn’t look particularly reassured while walking away, leaving the other two alone in the training grounds.
“You’re no help, Yuuta,” Gojo grumbled, shaking his head.
“And you’re a terrible influence,” He drew the katana, ready to continue the unfinished battle.
The day Shoko gave birth was a momentous occasion, a rare moment of joy and celebration amidst the often-grim realities of their lives as sorcerers. Yuuta and Maki, wanting to give the new parents some space and fearing that their energetic son, Shun, might inadvertently unleash his budding cursed energy in the sterile confines of the hospital, decided to drop him off at Yuuta’s sister’s house.
“Be good for Auntie, okay?” Maki said, crouching down to adjust Shun’s slightly askew hat. “No summoning any cursed spirits, and try not to break anything.”
The boy nodded vigorously. “I promise, Mama! I’ll be a good boy!”
When they arrived at the hospital, their arms were laden with gifts. Maki brings a plush toy panda for each twin and a gift certificate for a month’s supply of coffee for Shoko. Yuuta, on the other hand, had chosen something a little more sentimental: two tiny silver lockets, each engraved with a single, delicate cherry blossom, a symbol of hope and new beginnings.
When Maki went in to see Shoko, feeling a bit like a fifth wheel amidst the flurry of female bonding, her partner decided to grab a coffee from the hospital cafeteria, eventually finding himself outside the nursery.
And there, through the large glass window, stood Gojo.
Gojo Satoru, the strongest sorcerer alive, was staring at the two sleeping infants with an expression of such unguarded tenderness that it almost made Yuuta drop his freshly purchased iced coffee.
“Sensei?”
“Yuuta! You made it! Come, take a look. Aren’t they perfect?”
The silver-haired man gestured towards the nursery window, his voice filled with a pride that transcended words.
Yuuta peered into the nursery, his gaze lingering on the two identical infants, their tiny bodies dwarfed by the pristine white blankets. They were, he had to admit, incredibly cute.
“Which one is… the older?” he asked curiously.
“The one on the left,” Gojo replied, his gaze never leaving the twins. “That’s Hisana. The older one. By a whole two minutes.”
“Two minutes. And already, she’s got me wrapped around her tiny finger.” He shook his head in disbelief.
“How can you tell them apart?”
“Look closer.”
Yuuta leaned closer, his gaze fixed on the sleeping infants. And then he saw it. A tiny mark, just below Hisana’s left eye, a miniature replica of the one that adorned Shoko’s face.
“Ah,” Yuuta murmured, a hint of surprise in his voice. “A family resemblance.”
“A family resemblance.” Gojo nodded. “ And the other one, the little fighter who kept kicking her sister throughout the entire pregnancy, is Hisaki.”
“You seem… content.”
“Content? Yuuta, I’m ecstatic. I have the best wife, the most amazing son, and now… two beautiful daughters. I’m living the dream.”
Yuuta hesitated, then pressed further. “And Shoko? Does she… feel the same?”
“Of course, she’s happy,” he said, his voice a little too quick, a little too defensive. “Why wouldn’t she be?”
“But… how do you know? How can you be so sure?”
“I just know. We have a… connection. A bond. I can feel it.” He paused, tilting his head slightly. Suddenly, Gojo’s expression shifted, as he stepped closer to Yuuta, “Why do you ask? Do you… do you think Shoko isn’t happy? With me? Do you know something I don’t, Yuuta? Has she said something to you?”
Taken aback by Gojo’s sudden shift in demeanor, he stammered, “No! No, of course not! I just… I was just curious. That’s all.”
He knew he’d struck a nerve, touched upon a vulnerability that Gojo rarely, if ever, revealed. He also knew, with a sinking feeling in his gut, that even a man like Gojo has his insecurities.
He’d seen Gojo in battle, facing the most terrifying curses with a fearless grin. He’d seen him heartbroken. But he’d never seen him like this.
In those quiet moments, he wondered if Gojo ever questioned his own path and choices. Did he ever wonder what his life would have been like if he’d made different decisions, if he’d chosen a different path?
He decided to ask. It was now or never.
“Sensei,” he began, “So, what’s the… formula? For a… happy life?
Gojo's usual playful demeanor returned like nothing just happened.
“A formula, huh? You sorcerers and your obsession with rules and regulations.” He turned to his former student. “Well, if you’re asking for my perspective, based on my own highly successful… life experience, I’d say it boils down to this.”
He held up a finger, ticking off each point as he spoke.
“One: Love the right person. The one who makes you want to be a better man, even when you're already the strongest."
He held up a second finger. "Two: Treat her right. Respect her, cherish her, make her feel like she’s the most important person in your world. Because she is.”
A third finger. “Three: Marry her at the right time." He paused, a flicker of amusement crossing his features. “Or, you know, don’t. Marriage isn’t for everyone. But if you do, make sure it’s for the right reasons. Not when society tells you to, or when the elders are pressuring you to produce an heir, or because you accidentally got her pregnant.”
Finally, the last one. “Last but not least… live the right life.”
“The… right life? What does that even mean?” Yuuta's brow furrowed further.
Gojo shrugged, a hint of his usual enigmatic charm returning to his voice. “That is for you to figure out. There’s no one-size-fits-all answer. For me, right now, it’s… this. My family. My students. Protecting the people I care about. Trying to make the world a little less… cursed.”
“Nobody can live your life for you. Just find the courage to take a leap of faith, even when you’re not sure where you’ll land." He continued. "And when you do… you’ll know. You’ll just… know.”
He then winked. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some very important baby-gazing to attend to.”
After that, they both sighed, leaning against the wall, his gaze drifting towards the nursery window, where two tiny bundles of white hair slept peacefully, oblivious to the complexities of the adult world.
***
Past
The memory was a vivid scar on Yuuta’s soul, a constant reminder of the day they’d stared death in the face and somehow, miraculously, emerged victorious. Sukuna, the King of Curses, had been defeated. It had been a brutal battle.
He remembered the chilling silence that had fallen over the battlefield after Sukuna’s final words had faded into nothingness. He remembered the exhaustion, the bone-deep weariness that had settled over him, a weight that had nothing to do with physical exertion and everything to do with the sheer emotional toll of the battle.
He remembered seeing Gojo, his usually vibrant blue eyes dimmed with weariness, his body riddled with wounds that would have killed any sorcerer. Shoko had worked miracles, pulling Gojo back from the brink of death, mending his shattered body, and restoring him to his former, albeit slightly more humbled, glory.
And then, slowly, painstakingly, they had returned to their daily lives. For Yuuta, the return to normalcy was bittersweet. His feelings for Maki had become more and more unneglectable.
He found himself stealing glances at her every time, his gaze lingering on the way her brow furrowed in concentration, the way her rare smiles could light up a room. He admired the way she carried herself, the way she moved, the way she spoke her mind without hesitation or fear. He found himself captivated by the burn scars. They were, to him, not imperfections, but a testament to her strength. They made her unique, special, beautiful.
But Rika’s memory, though less painful now, was still a presence in his heart. He couldn’t, wouldn’t, allow himself to feel this way about Maki, not when Rika’s shadow still lingered.
So, he’d buried his feelings, burying them deep beneath layers of guilt and self-doubt. He’d hoped that if he ignored them, they would fade, wither away like neglected plants. He hoped that Maki would find someone who could offer her a love unburdened by the shadows of his past. He hoped that with time, his heart would forget, and the ache in his chest would finally subside. His heart would always have room for Rika, and he didn’t want to hurt Maki because of that.
However, life, as it often does, had a way of defying expectations, of throwing curveballs when you least expected them.
One afternoon, during a particularly grueling training session, Yuuta observed his classmates practice. Maki moved with a fluid grace, her movements precise, her attacks swift and powerful. He watched, mesmerized, as she effortlessly disarmed Panda, sending the panda sorcerer tumbling to the ground with a well-placed kick.
His heart, that traitorous organ, skipped a beat. He reached for the ring, his fingers closing around the familiar shape, seeking the comfort, the grounding presence of Rika’s memory.
But as he touched the chain, it snapped.
The ring, Rika’s ring, tumbled from his grasp, bouncing across the wooden floor of the training ground, its silver surface glinting in the afternoon sun.
“Shit,” Panic seized him as he scrambled to retrieve it before anyone noticed.
He lunged for it, his fingers closing around the cool metal just as Maki’s hand reached for it as well. Their fingers brushed, a fleeting touch that sent a jolt of electricity through him.
“Here,” she said, her voice soft, her gaze unwavering as she held out the ring. Then, before he could react, she slipped the ring onto the chain of his necklace, securing it around his neck, her touch made his heart flutter like a hummingbird trapped in his chest.
“There. Safe and sound. And you should be more careful,” she said, her voice soft, her gaze fixed on the ring now in the necklace. “You wouldn’t want to lose this.”
Her smile widened. “Now, where were we? Ah, yes. Your turn to get your butt kicked.”
Yuuta could only nod but his movements were sluggish, his focus shattered. As Maki effortlessly disarmed him for the third time in as many minutes, he realized that the ring, his carefully constructed symbol of restraint, was no longer working. Because at that moment, surrounded by the remnants of their sparring session, the scent of sweat and ozone in the air, he knew. He couldn't deny it any longer. He was completely captivated by this girl. His heart, it seemed, had a will of its own, and it refused to be silenced, refused to be denied.
Years passed, seasons changed, and the students of Jujutsu Tech blossomed into full-fledged sorcerers. Graduation day arrived, a bittersweet milestone marked by celebratory cheers, tearful farewells, and the daunting prospect of facing the world beyond the protective walls of the school.
To celebrate, in his usual extravagant fashion, Gojo had reserved an entire high-end restaurant, treating his former students to a lavish feast. The meal was a lively affair, filled with laughter, good-natured teasing, and the comforting clink of glasses. Even Megumi, usually a man of few words, seemed to relax, a faint smile playing on his lips as he listened to Nobara’s animated recounting of a recent mission. As the evening drew to a close, the group began to disperse, exchanging promises to stay in touch.
Yuuta's heart was full as he lingered outside the restaurant, savoring the cool night air, and watched as his friends departed, their silhouettes disappearing into the bustling city streets.
He turned to say goodbye to Maki, but as he did, a figure materialized before him, a figure he hadn’t seen in years, a figure he thought he’d lost forever.
Rika.
Her appearance was exactly as he remembered, her long black hair cascading down her back, her dark eyes filled with a familiar warmth, her smile both sweet and melancholic. She was wearing the same dress she’d worn on the day she… the day she became a curse.
His heart was pounding in his chest, his mind struggling to reconcile the image before him with the reality he knew to be true. Rika was gone. He’d released her spirit himself, freed her from the curse that had bound them together. This… this couldn’t be real.
He hadn’t seen her, not truly seen her, since the day she’d been freed from her curse. But here she was, standing before him, as real as the pavement beneath his feet.
“Rika? Is it… really you?” Tears welled up in his eyes, blurring his vision. He’d asked himself those same questions countless times.
“Yuuta,” she whispered, her voice a soft melody that tugged at the strings of his heart. “Why?”
“Why, Yuuta?” she repeated. “Why do you continue to punish yourself? I told you, to live happily. Why do you insist on suffering?”
“I… I didn’t want to betray our vow,” he finally managed. “Our promise.”
“You fulfilled the promise,” her voice soft as a summer breeze. “You set me free. There’s nothing left to hold onto. It's time for you to live, Yuuta. Truly live.”
She held out her hand, her fingers outstretched, beckoning him forward. He took a step forward, then another, drawn to her like a moth to a flame.
But just as his fingers were about to brush against hers, her form flickered, like a candle flame in a sudden gust of wind, and vanished.
He blinked. He was alone.
No, not alone.
It was only then did he realized that he was holding someone’s hand. He looked down, his heart skipping a beat. It wasn’t Rika’s small, delicate hand he was holding, but Maki’s. Strong, calloused, warm. Real.
“Are you alright, Okkotsu? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
He smiled, though his eyes were suspiciously moist, his nose stinging with unshed tears. “I… I think I did".
And in that moment, as he stood hand-in-hand with Maki, the city lights twinkling around them like fallen stars, Yuuta knew. He knew that everything was going to be alright. He knew that he was exactly where he was supposed to be. So he blinked back the tears, before taking a deep breath, the cool night air filling his lungs, grounding him in the present moment.
“Do you… do you want to take a walk?” he asked. “Just… around the block. It’s… a nice night.”
“A walk sounds nice,” she said, her voice soft, her gaze lingering on his. “Just let me… grab my jacket.”
As she turned to retrieve her jacket from a nearby bench, Yuuta knew, with a certainty that settled deep in his bones, that everything was finally in its place. The past was the past, a memory to be cherished. The future was theirs, a blank canvas waiting to be filled with vibrant colors. And Maki… Maki was his present. And, if he dared to hope, his future.
***
Present
The drive home was a blur of city lights and the rhythmic hum of the car engine. Yuuta, usually a focused driver, found his mind wandering.
He glanced at the mother of his child, her scars illuminated by the passing streetlights. She was humming softly to a song on the radio. He loved her. He knew that with a certainty that anchored him to the world.
But was it the right love? Was he treating her the right way? And what about the right life? What did that even mean?
His teacher, Gojo had found his anchor in Shoko.
And Megumi was clearly smitten with Nobara.
Yuuta, however, felt adrift, caught between the comfortable familiarity of his relationship with Maki and the lingering shadow of his past. He loved Maki, he truly did.
But Rika… Rika was his first love. His heart would forever have room for Rika. It was a love so strong that even after her death, she still became a powerful curse that almost killed him.
He wanted to give this woman the world, to offer her the kind of happiness that his sensei, the kind of love that his kouhai was on the verge of discovering. But at the same time, he worried that was unfair to her, for this incomplete love.
He was so engrossed in his thoughts that he missed their usual exit, the familiar route home replaced by an unfamiliar stretch of highway.
“Yuuta?” Maki’s voice, sharp and alert, cut through his mental fog. “You missed the turn.”
He blinked. “Sorry,” he mumbled, quickly maneuvering the car into the next lane, “I was… thinking.”
“About?” she pressed, her tone gentle but persistent.
He couldn’t tell her, not yet. He couldn’t voice his doubts, his insecurities, not when he wasn’t even sure what they meant.
“Gojo,” he said instead, seizing on the first plausible excuse that came to mind. “He was… acting strange. Staring at the twins like they were the most fascinating things he’d ever seen.”
"That man is undoubtedly a girl dad." Maki then changed the subject. "Did you see the gift I got for them? Two tiny, curse-resistant plush toy pandas. I figured they could use some protection, even in their sleep."
"Yeah, they're perfect."
“What about the groceries I asked for?”
“Sure, I got them all,” Yuuta replied, grateful for the distraction. “And Shun wanted that new limited-edition action figure, the one with the… cursed energy blast thingy?”
“Of course he did. That kid is obsessed. Did you get it?”
“Managed to snag the last one,” Yuuta said, a hint of pride in his voice. “Had to fight off a couple of enthusiastic collectors, but I prevailed.”
“I can imagine. You know, for someone who claims to hate violence, you’re surprisingly good at it.” Maki chuckled.
“Only when necessary.”
As they continued their drive, their conversation drifting from the mundane to the familiar rhythm of their shared life, Yuuta couldn’t shake the feeling that he was standing on the precipice of something life-altering. He just didn’t know, not yet, whether he was ready to take the leap.
They arrived at a modest, two-story house, its warm lights spilling out onto the quiet street. Yuuta's sister, a kind-faced woman with a gentle smile and eyes that mirrored Yuuta's own, greeted them at the door, Shun nestled in her arms.
"He wore himself out," she whispered. "Asked a million questions about the babies, then promptly fell asleep mid-sentence."
Maki took Shun from her arms, cradling him close, his small body a comforting weight against her chest. "Thank you for watching him, Yuumi."
"Anytime. He's a joy to have around." She paused, her gaze shifting to Yuuta, a hint of concern in her eyes. "You alright, nii-san? You seem… odd."
"Just tired. Long day."
She nodded, her gaze lingering on him for a moment before she turned to Maki. "Come in for tea?"
Maki shook her head. "We should get this little guy home to bed. But we really appreciate it.”
"It's fine. So how are the new additions to the Gojo clan?”
“They’re great. Two little girls. Hisana and Hisaki.”
“That’s wonderful!” Yuumi exclaimed, her face lighting up. "Two more Gojos. The world certainly isn't ready for that."
They then exchanged goodbyes.
“How was your day, champ?” Yuuta asked, gently ruffling Shun’s dark green hair as they walked towards the car.
"Kay.” Shun blinked sleepily.
“We went to the hospital today,” Maki buckled the kid into his car seat. “My sensei and Shoko-san had their babies. Twins.”
“Twins?” Shun’s eyes widened, a flicker of interest in his sleepy gaze. “Like… two babies?”
“That’s right. Two little sisters for Hikaru.”
“Can I see them?”
“Soon. They’re very small right now. They need to rest.”
“Did you see the babies, Mama?” he asked, his eyes wide with curiosity. “Do they have hair? Can I hold them?”
“They have lots of white hair, like Uncle Gojo. You can hold them soon, but you have to be very gentle.”
“Gentle,” Shun nodded solemnly. “Like when I pet Megumi-niichan’s doggies.”
Yuuta couldn't help but smile seeing that familiar scene.
The drive home was quiet, the only sound was the soft hum of the engine and Shun’s gentle breathing as he drifted back to sleep. Yuuta watched as Maki carefully carried their son into the house before following her upstairs, to Shun’s room, a cozy space filled with colorful toys, stuffed animals, and a small bed adorned with a superhero-themed comforter. While Maki coaxed a sleepy Shun into his pajamas, patiently answering his endless stream of bedtime questions (“Why is the sky blue, Mama? Do curses dream? Can I have a pet curse?”), Yuuta found himself in their bedroom, a basket of freshly laundered toddler clothes at his feet.
So he reached for a tiny t-shirt, emblazoned with a cartoon depiction of a particularly ferocious-looking cursed spirit, and began to fold it, his movements automatic, his mind miles away before picking up a small, blue onesie, the fabric soft beneath his fingertips. He remembered the day they bought it, the excitement they’d both felt, the anticipation of welcoming their son into the world. It felt like a lifetime ago, yet also like yesterday.
The silence in the bedroom stretched, thick with unspoken anxieties and the lingering scent of freshly laundered clothes. He could feel Maki’s presence as she slipped into bed beside him. He could hear the rustle of the sheets, the soft sigh she released as she settled into the mattress, the subtle shift in the air that signaled her presence.
Then, he started.
“Maki, I don’t… want this life anymore. I don’t want to be your boyfriend anymore.” He paused. “And… I don’t want to just… co-parent with you anymore.”
The words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating, a stark contrast to the soft rustling of the sheets and the gentle hum of the city outside.
Maki’s body stiffened beside him. She turned her head away, her face hidden in the shadows, her silence a deafening roar in the quiet room.
“Fine,” she finally spoke. “ I’ll move out. Go back to Kyoto, maybe. There’s always other options.” her voice taking on a forced casualness that didn’t quite mask the tremor beneath. “I can make a list. Kamo, maybe. Or that guy from the Kyoto branch, the one with the… the guitar. Or even Todo, if he ever stops obsessing over Takada-chan. One of them would surely love to step up and become Shun’s stepdad.”
Not hearing a response, she turned back, her eyes searching his in the dim light.
And then she saw it.
Yuuta was kneeling beside the bed, one leg bent, his hand outstretched, a small, velvet box nestled in his palm. In the dim light, a simple, elegant ring glimmered within, a single diamond catching the faint glow from the bedside lamp.
She finally understood. He wasn’t pushing her away. He was pulling her closer. He’d been trying to propose.
Badly.
Very, very badly.
“Yuuta, what are you doing?”
“I… I don’t want to be just your boyfriend but to be your husband. And," He looked up at her. “Seriously? You had a list?”
“Of course not, you idiot. You didn’t exactly present your case very well, you know. ‘I don’t want this life anymore’? What was I supposed to think?”
“I… I was trying to… I wanted to…”
“Propose?” Maki supplied. “I gathered.”
“I… I panicked, okay? I was trying to be… romantic. I asked Panda and Inumaki for advice." Yuuta, still on one knee, his arm starting to ache, offered a sheepish shrug. “Panda… he suggested I do it this way. Said it would be… surprising. Clearly, I was the only one surprised.”
“You asked a Panda and a guy who speaks in rice ball ingredients for relationship advice?”
“Well, yeah. Panda's… surprisingly insightful. Sometimes.”
“And Inumaki?” Maki pressed. “What profound wisdom did our resident onigiri aficionado impart?”
“He said, ‘Tuna mayo.’ I think he meant… go with your gut? Or maybe he was just hungry. It was hard to tell.” Yuuta winced, rubbing the back of his neck.
Then his eyes searched hers, a flicker of hope rekindled in their depths. “So… you’re not… moving to Kyoto?”
“Not unless you’re coming with me.”
Yuuta, his face now a vibrant shade of red, looked down at the ring in his hand, his earlier confidence replaced by a wave of self-doubt.
“And they said the worst she can say is no,” he muttered, his voice barely audible. “They didn’t say anything about you already planning our breakup and making a list of potential stepfathers for Shun.”
His woman simply smiled as she slipped the ring onto her finger, the cool metal a comforting weight against her skin. It fits perfectly.
Despite the “yes,” despite the ring now adorning her finger, Yuuta remained adorably, frustratingly obtuse, still pouting like a child who’d been denied his favorite dessert. He sat on the edge of the bed, his arms crossed, his lower lip jutting out in a pout that, on anyone else, would have looked ridiculous. On him, however, it was strangely endearing.
“Hey, don’t sulk. You proposed. I said yes. We’re good.”
Maki flicked him playfully on the forehead, the light tap a stark contrast to her usual bone-crushing punches.
“Ouch! What was that for?”
“For being a mopey idiot.”
In a flash, the empty ring box was in her hands, as she dropped down on one knee in front of him, mimicking his earlier proposal.
“Okkotsu Yuuta,” she said, her voice filled with mock solemnity, “will you do me the extraordinary honor of becoming my lawfully wedded husband? Will you continue to put up with my stubbornness, my questionable cooking skills, and my habit of stealing all the blankets in the middle of the night? Will you promise to love me, to cherish me, and to forever be my partner in crime, even when I’m old and wrinkly and still beating you at arm wrestling?”
His mouth agape, his earlier frustration completely forgotten. He blinked, once, twice, as if trying to process the scene before him. Maki, his Maki, was proposing to him.
Before he could recover, she stood up, pulled him up then tugged him towards the bed.
“Come here, big guy.”
Before he could respond, she pulled him up from the floor, her strength surprising him as she practically dragged him onto the bed. He stumbled, landing on the soft mattress with a muffled “oof.” He then feels her breath warm against his skin.
“So, what do you say we send Shun to Megumi and Nobara’s tomorrow? Give them a taste of parenthood. And then… we can practice for our wedding night?”
No words came out. Yuuta imagined a thousand different scenarios for their proposal, but none of them, not even in his wildest dreams, had involved Maki, on top of him, suggesting a pre-wedding night practice run.
“Well?” she pressed, her voice a low purr. “What do you say? Ready to make an honest woman out of me?”
He tried to speak and give a clear answer, but all that came out was a choked, “Uh…”
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Then she leaned down to capture his lips in a demanding kiss, a kiss that finally, irrevocably, sealed their fate.
---------------------------------------------------
Epilogue
The sterile white walls of the hospital room, usually a place of anxiety and hushed whispers, buzzed with quiet joy. Years had passed, blurring the edges of memory, etching lines on faces, and weaving silver through once-vibrant hair. Yuuta stood by the window, his gaze fixed on a scene that warmed his heart.
His son, Shun, his face a mixture of exhaustion and elation, paced the floor, his arms cradling a tiny, swaddled bundle. Tears streamed down his face, tears of worry for his wife, who had just endured a grueling labor, and tears of joy for the precious life she had brought into the world.
“She’s beautiful, Dad,” Shun whispered, his gaze fixed on the sleeping infant.
One by one, family members were ushered into the room, each taking their turn to hold the newest addition to their ever-growing clan. Maki, her hair now streaked with silver, beamed with pride as she watched her son become a father.
Finally, it was his turn. Maki gently placed the baby in his arms.
“Yuuta, meet our granddaughter,” she whispered.
He looked down at the tiny bundle, her face scrunched in sleep, her hair a wisp of dark silk against the soft blanket. She looked like Shun, he realized, a pang of nostalgia hitting him. But there was something else, something familiar in the delicate curve of her cheekbones, the shape of her tiny nose… She looked like him even more. As he held her, a wave of emotion washed over him. He was old, his body weary, his days of battling curses long past. But in that moment, holding his granddaughter, he felt a renewed sense of purpose, a connection to a future he wouldn’t see, but one that he had helped to create.
As he gazed at his granddaughter, lost in the wonder of new life, the familiar weight of the chain around his neck shifted. The ring, Rika’s ring, slipped from beneath his shirt, the silver glinting in the soft light. It tumbled downwards, landing with a gentle thump on the baby’s blanket. The baby stirred, her tiny hand unfurling, her fingers brushing against the cool metal.
Yuuta gently picked up the ring, his fingers tracing the smooth surface. He looked at his granddaughter, her eyes now open, gazing up at him with a curiosity that mirrored his own. Then he carefully tucked the chain back beneath his shirt, the ring now peacefully resting against his chest before he leaned down, his lips brushing against her forehead.
“One day,” he murmured, “this will be yours. Everything that’s mine, everything I have, will be yours.”