love?

The mist hung low in the forest, curling around the trees like a dream. Muichiro stood just ahead of you, his sword resting against his shoulder, his eyes distant as always — fixed somewhere far away.

You thought he was lost in thought again, but then he turned, his gaze clearer than you’d ever seen it.

“Hey,” he said softly, almost uncertain. “You… stay in my mind. Even when everything else fades.”

He stepped closer, the faint scent of pine clinging to him. His hand brushed against yours, hesitant, as though he wasn’t sure he had the right.

“I don’t really understand why,” he admitted, his voice fragile, “but when I think of you, it feels warm. Like sunlight cutting through the mist.”

For a moment, the world was silent — only the whisper of leaves and the hush of your breath. Then, in his quiet, honest way, Muichiro’s lips curved into the faintest smile.

“I think… I love you.”

And though the mist swirled thick around you both, the world felt suddenly clear.

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The forest was hushed in silver mist, soft tendrils curling through the trees. You and Muichiro walked side by side, the silence between you strangely comfortable. His sword tapped lightly against his hip with each step, but otherwise, he moved like a shadow — quiet, fluid, distant.

You were used to seeing him like that: far away, lost in thoughts only he could hear. But tonight felt different. His eyes, usually unfocused like drifting clouds, kept flicking toward you.

Finally, you stopped beneath an old cedar tree. “Is something wrong?” you asked gently.

Muichiro tilted his head, as if weighing his words. Then, after a pause, he spoke in that soft, airy tone of his. “No… not wrong. Just… strange.”

“Strange?” you echoed, smiling faintly.

He stepped closer, the mist curling around him like it belonged to him. His hand brushed yours — fleeting, like the touch of a breeze — but he didn’t pull away. “Most things… they slip away from me,” he murmured, his gaze dropping to the ground. “Memories, faces… even feelings. They’re like clouds. Here one moment, gone the next.”

Your chest ached at the honesty in his voice.

“But you…” His eyes lifted, and this time they were clear, sharp like sunlight breaking through fog. “You don’t fade. No matter what, I always remember you.”

Your breath caught. “Muichiro…”

“I don’t know what to call it,” he continued, his voice quieter now, almost vulnerable. “But when you’re near me, it feels warm. Like standing in the sun after rain. Like the world isn’t so heavy.”

The silence between you pulsed with unspoken feelings. Slowly, almost timidly, Muichiro let his fingers lace with yours. His touch was cool, but it sent heat flooding through your chest.

“I think…” He drew in a breath, steadying himself. Then, with a rare and gentle smile that lit his face, he whispered: “I think I love you.”

The mist seemed to draw back, as if granting you both a moment of clarity. You squeezed his hand, your heart racing as your own words slipped out — certain and steady.

“I love you too.”

Muichiro blinked, stunned for a heartbeat. Then, his smile softened into something breathtaking — quiet, pure, and utterly sincere. And in that moment, it felt as though the mist no longer mattered at all.

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