A few months had passed since Obanai's discharge from the hospital, and his life had taken on an unexpected new rhythm, one that he'd never thought possible. Most days, it was subtle—a small change here, a comforting presence there—but it filled a space he hadn't realized was so empty. Every few days, he'd receive a quiet text from Giyuu, a simple message like, Are you free for tea this evening? or I found a place with good ramen—want to go together? The texts were never overly familiar, yet each one sent a flutter through Obanai's chest.
Their "dates"—as Obanai began secretly calling them—were always understated, often just walks through the park or shared meals in quiet corners of the city. Giyuu would sit beside him, sometimes silent, sometimes speaking about something that had happened at work, and Obanai would listen, feeling a strange warmth from simply being near him. They didn't need to fill every moment with words; even the quiet felt full, as if it were enough just to be in each other's company.
But as they grew closer, the silences began to give way, layer by layer, to something deeper, more open. There was a slow, beautiful unraveling between them—each glance a question, each smile an answer, and each touch a promise neither dared to speak aloud.
...
The first time Obanai tried to invite Giyuu to his apartment, he fumbled with the words. They'd been out late, strolling through the city streets after dinner, and the warmth of the evening had settled around them. Giyuu's hand had brushed against Obanai's a few times, and each time, Obanai's heart had skipped a beat.
"Do you... want to come in?" he finally asked, his voice barely above a whisper, eyes fixed on his front door.
Giyuu looked at him, his expression unreadable for a moment, and then he nodded, a quiet smile tugging at his lips. The two made their way inside, and Obanai felt his pulse race, wondering if this would be the night something might change between them. But instead, they sat on the couch, a little awkward and unsure, sipping tea and talking in soft, hesitant tones about everything and nothing.
When Giyuu eventually left, Obanai felt his heart sink with the realization that he'd hoped for... something more. But at the same time, he knew that Giyuu was taking his time for a reason. It was a slow, deliberate courtship, one that had its own beauty. And if he was honest, it made him feel cherished in a way he'd never experienced before.
..
As they continued seeing each other, Obanai slowly began to open up about the scars that weren't visible—the wounds that came from years of mistrust, of feeling like he didn't belong. He'd grown used to keeping people at arm's length, to pushing others away before they could reject him. But Giyuu, with his quiet patience and steady presence, was different. It took time, but eventually, Obanai began to trust him in ways he hadn't trusted anyone else.
One evening, as they sat together on a bench overlooking the river, Obanai found himself confessing his insecurities, his fears, his struggles with loneliness. "I used to think... no one would ever want me. I know I'm not easy to get along with," he admitted, his voice trembling. "I'm... always jealous, always guarded. I don't know how to just... be open with people."
Giyuu listened, his gaze fixed on Obanai, his expression one of quiet understanding. When Obanai fell silent, Giyuu reached over and took his hand, his touch warm and grounding. "You don't have to be perfect, Obanai," he said softly. "I... like you for who you are. I wouldn't want you to change."
The simplicity of Giyuu's words struck a chord within him, dissolving some of the tension that had been holding him back. For the first time, Obanai felt seen—truly seen, without pretense or judgment. And in that moment, he realized how deeply he cared for Giyuu, how much he wanted to be with him, flaws and all.
...
They began spending more time together, often just sitting in comfortable silence or doing mundane tasks like grocery shopping or cooking. It felt strangely intimate, the way they'd fall into a quiet rhythm, working side by side as if they'd always known each other. Giyuu would help Obanai pick out food, encouraging him to try new things and gently urging him to eat more, aware of Obanai's struggles with maintaining a healthy appetite.
At first, Obanai resisted. He wasn't used to someone caring for him in such a straightforward way, and it left him feeling vulnerable, almost exposed. But Giyuu's calm persistence eventually won him over. Whenever he felt anxious or reluctant, Giyuu would simply give him a reassuring look, his silent presence enough to remind Obanai that he wasn't alone.
The first time they cooked together at Giyuu's apartment, Obanai felt an unexpected sense of joy. They moved around each other in the kitchen with a surprising ease, Giyuu occasionally stealing glances at Obanai, a faint smile softening his usually stoic features. At one point, Obanai accidentally dropped a spoon, and as he bent down to pick it up, their hands brushed against each other. They froze, their eyes meeting, and for a brief, electrifying moment, neither moved.
It was moments like these—small, seemingly insignificant gestures—that built the foundation of their relationship. Each touch, each shared smile, each accidental brush of fingers created a connection that grew stronger over time, a steady warmth that settled into their lives like a quiet flame.
...
One evening, as they sat on Obanai's couch after a long day, the atmosphere between them shifted. They'd been talking about something trivial, laughing softly, when Giyuu fell silent, his gaze drifting toward Obanai in that intense, thoughtful way that always made his heart race.
Before he knew it, Giyuu's hand was reaching out, brushing a strand of hair from Obanai's face. The touch was so gentle, so full of affection, that Obanai's breath caught. Giyuu's fingers lingered against his cheek, his thumb tracing a soft line across his skin, and then, as if drawn by an unseen force, their faces drifted closer until their lips met in a tentative, almost hesitant kiss.
The world fell away, and for a moment, it was just the two of them, wrapped in the warmth of that first, delicate touch. When they pulled back, both were breathless, a soft blush coloring their cheeks.
"I... I didn't think..." Obanai stammered, his heart racing. But Giyuu only smiled, the gentlest of smiles that spoke more than words could ever convey.
"Me neither," he murmured. "But I don't regret it."
In that moment, something shifted between them, a quiet but profound acknowledgment of their feelings—a promise of what was to come.
...
Being two men in love wasn't always easy. They had to navigate the silent judgments of others, the unspoken assumptions, and the occasional outright stares. But somehow, none of that mattered when they were together. They'd find solace in each other, in the small moments of tenderness and understanding that bound them together.
Sometimes, when things felt overwhelming, Obanai would fall into a dark mood, his insecurities flaring up. He'd shut down, retreating into himself, the shadows of his past haunting him. But Giyuu would always be there, his presence a calm, steady anchor. He'd sit beside Obanai, saying nothing, just letting him know that he was there, a quiet reassurance that he wasn't alone.
And slowly, Obanai began to heal, his heart softening under Giyuu's care, his mind finding peace in the love they shared. It wasn't always easy, and there were days when the weight of their pasts felt almost unbearable. But they faced it together, each step a testament to the strength of their bond.
...
Their relationship wasn't about grand gestures or dramatic declarations. It was built on the little things—the quiet moments, the shared laughter, the gentle touches, and the silent support. Giyuu would brush Obanai's hair back as he fell asleep, whispering softly to him, words of comfort that only he could hear. And Obanai, for the first time, felt safe, loved in a way that transcended all his fears and insecurities.
Together, they learned what it meant to truly love and be loved, their hearts entwined in a slow, steady flame that would burn long into the future. And as they continued to share their lives, their love deepened, becoming something beautiful, something enduring—a quiet, steady love that neither of them had ever thought possible but had, against all odds, found in each other.
