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Yūta woke up early. This was unusual, as he had improved his sleep habits for years, and now, on the contrary, he practically had to be forced by his alarm clock or by Maki to open his eyes. Although that hadn't completely eliminated the dark circles under his eyes.
He glanced toward the windows; light filtered through the curtains, telling him the time. He shifted in bed, turning to his side, and watched Maki's face as she slept peacefully. He reached down to her, his fingers lightly touching her cheek.
Without realizing it, a gentle smile spread across his face as he gazed at his wife, so peaceful and serene.
Yūta wanted to stay with her longer, to hold her close and succumb peacefully to the tranquility and security of that moment, but he had something to do. He got out of bed with difficulty, trying not to wake her—which was truly a difficult task, considering her highly developed senses—but he managed. He was a special-grade sorcerer, after all.
Although it was probably because Maki was so tired, having returned home very late from a multi-day mission, Yūta knew it was mainly due to the comfort she found in the safety of being at home. Only there, in their own home, did Maki allow herself to let her guard down. Knowing this, Yūta's heart swelled with the warm feeling she evoked. Part of his pride swelled knowing that he was the reason she felt safe and protected.
Yūta didn't like that their job was so demanding—and dangerous—despite knowing that Maki was more than capable and strong. Even so, he wished their lives were a little different. But if they weren't sorcerers, they wouldn't be there right now, right? He shook his head to himself, not wanting to think about "what ifs". He simply wouldn't be able to imagine a different life without Maki beside him.
He went to the kitchen after washing up and started preparing breakfast. He didn't consider himself an expert, but at least he was better than before. In their relationship, neither he nor Maki were particularly good at cooking, but somehow they made it work. In turn, Yūta loved preparing food for Maki and—
Hmpf, a weak exhalation at the unexpected "attack." He looked down, meeting a small face that looked all too similar to his own.
"Iori, you surprised me," Yūta said, knowing it would please the boy. And he was rewarded with his adorable reaction.
"Heh," the boy smiled proudly, having surprised his father.
Yūta admitted that the little boy was getting better at sneaking around; surely the lightness of his steps was a trait of Maki's (Yūta had always been a somewhat clumsy child). Worry momentarily gripped him, thinking that his son would inevitably follow in their footsteps—even though he was still too young to determine if he would display any cursed techniques. But Yūta knew it, deep down. He wished time would stop, but not even he could stop the inevitable.
"Pa?" the boy called out curiously, expectantly. Crouching down to his level, Yūta smiled reassuringly and stroked the boy's hair, eliciting a few more giggles.
"Did you sleep well?" Iori nodded cheerfully. "You know, Mom's already here."
As if by magic, his words lit up the boy's face. And before he could exclaim with joy or run to their bedroom, Yūta placed a finger to his lips, a gesture to keep him composed. "Mom's tired; let's let her sleep a little longer, okay?"
The boy's brief pout was adorable, but Yūta resisted melting at his charm. Iori resignedly agreed.
"Why don't we make breakfast? That way, we can surprise her when she wakes up. What do you think?"
Iori nodded excitedly at the idea of helping his father with the "surprise" for his mother.
"I want pancakes!"
Yūta suppressed his amused exasperation. His son shared Maki's taste in food.
"How about miso soup? Tamagoyaki? Iori likes that, right?" The boy's lackluster expression amused him. So, he continued, "What about some Natto?"
"Ugh..." The little boy wrinkled his tiny nose, a gesture so typical of Maki, and shook his head emphatically. It was well known that the child detested the texture of fermented soybeans.
This time, Yūta couldn't help but chuckle a little. He couldn't help but tease him. He was fascinated by his expressions, so similar to Maki's. His son might physically resemble him, but his personality and tastes were those of his wife.
"So, what should we make for Mom?"
"Omurice!"
Yūta laughed with delight. Iori was a complete version of Maki.
"Okay, but first you need to clean up, hm?"
.....
What woke her wasn't the muffled sounds outside the room—gentle, attempts at silence, familiar voices trying to keep their volume down—but the aroma of food and Iori's soft laughter. This way of waking up wasn't unusual; in fact, it was one of Maki's favorites.
Her body didn't feel truly tired—despite having subjected it to a tedious and time-consuming mission. It was her mind that had felt exhausted.
Hearing the small, soft footsteps approaching, Maki got out of bed. She opened the door as her son stood before her. His eyes widened in surprise, and at the same time, lit up with excitement at seeing her.
"Ma!" he exclaimed, raising his arms excitedly.
Maki smiled at the little boy's overwhelming affection at the mere sight of her. Maki lifted him in her arms, unable to resist having him close to her chest any moment longer.
"Hey, little Moyashi, you've grown a bit, haven't you?" There was a touch of petulance in her voice.
The boy quickly hugged her—his small arms wrapped around her neck—their faces touching, his chubby cheeks pressed against hers. His enchanted smile was irresistible and contagious to Maki, and she smiled back, equally delighted.
"Good morning, Maki-san. Did you sleep well?"
Yūta had witnessed everything from the beginning, but he didn't interfere in his wife and son's reunion. On the contrary, he enjoyed the scene before him—it only intensified the warmth in his chest. He couldn't imagine a more beautiful image than his wife and son smiling tenderly together.
"I did," she nodded to him, her son still clinging to her. She approached Yūta, extending her free hand toward him. She suppressed a smile at the happiness on her husband's face at her gesture. Yūta took her hand, intertwining their fingers.
“Breakfast is ready.” They headed towards the kitchen.
"Iori chose it!"
"Oh? Then it must be a good breakfast," Maki conceded, flattering her little one and receiving excited nods from him. "Dad doesn't have good taste in food, does he?"
Maki laughed conspiratorially with her son, while Yūta sighed, "Breakfasts should be healthy."
But they paid him no attention.
"Ma! Iori drew a heart!"
Maki looked at Yūta, silently questioning him.
"Hm, Iori is very good at drawing."
When Maki approached the table, she took in everything on it. She raised an eyebrow, somewhat surprised by what she saw.
"Any special occasion?"
It wasn't their anniversary; she knew that well. Her own birthday had already passed, and Yūta's was the following month. Iori's was still a ways off. So, what was the reason for so many dishes—things she liked, such as pancakes, omurice, fruit, and barely any vegetables...
Iori laughed, covering his mouth with his small hands.
"Happy Valentine's Day, Maki-san," Yūta said, offering her a bouquet of flowers.
She was silent for a moment, surprised. A slight warmth spread across her face. She looked at Yūta with a touch of apprehension, while he, in turn, gazed at her expectantly, almost in awe. No matter how many years they spent together or how long their courtship had been before getting married, Maki couldn't help but be affected by Yūta's displays of affection.
She coughed, trying to maintain her composure.
"So, that's it. Thank you," she said, taking the bouquet. Yūta was pleased; she felt a little bashful. Especially since their son was watching them so intently.
It was ironic that her son's presence during these exchanges between her and Yūta made her feel so self-conscious, considering that Iori was the greatest and most irrefutable proof of the closeness between her and Yūta.
"Let's eat," her voice sounded a little strained. Before she could put Iori in his chair, Yūta touched her waist and, with his free hand, covered his son's eyes, leaning in and pressing his lips to hers.
Maki's eyes widened, completely taken by surprise —it should be impossible, considering her celestial restraint, but there she was. The pressure of his lips on her intensified. The slight possessiveness of his hand on her waist contrasted with the softness of the kiss. Maki closed her eyes briefly, accepting the caress. She had missed him, too.
The kiss ended, and her eyelids felt heavy, but she looked up at Yūta and found those familiar emotions: longing, possessiveness, suppressed desire, and deep love… all of them shining in his dark blue eyes. She could feel her chest swell with the breath she held and with her own feelings.
Yūta ended the intimate moment with a gentle smile, removing his hand from his son's eyes. Iori pouted, and Maki found it cute. Too cute.
With a playful thrust of her hip toward her husband—her hands were occupied, but that wouldn't stop her from a small retribution— she ended the brief, yet extremely tense moment.
"Can't you wait until later?" she chided him. Her face felt hot.
Yūta laughed. "Sorry, I just missed you so much, Maki-san."
Ah, wasn't he embarrassed to do and say all that in front of their son?
"Iori too!"
"Mom missed you a lot, too, Iori," she said, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. She helped him into his chair as Yūta picked up the flowers and placed them in a vase on the table.
"I hope you like it. It was Iori's idea." Yūta moved the food in front of her, and Maki chuckled softly at the image on the omurice. The heart had undoubtedly been drawn by Iori: those irregular edges and the barely discernible lines. She looked at her son with pride.
"I love it, little moyashi," she said, ruffling his hair. Actually, Maki loved his joyful laughter even more.
Yūta also took a seat. He enjoyed the scene before him and knew with absolute certainty that it would be one he would never forget.
"Maki-san,"
"¿Hm?" She looked at him, her expression gentle, but Yūta could see the subtle happiness in it.
I love you, he said with his eyes. Maki's hazel eyes shone with understanding.
Her smile softened. Me too, he knew she was expressing it.
They didn't need words; their gestures were enough.
Yes, this would be another moment Yūta would treasure.