Wilted Bloom

Maya moved efficiently around the apartment, her pink hair swaying as she gathered Shota's things, determined to make sure he was fully prepared for the training retreat. She hummed softly to herself, double-checking everything she packed in his bag: clean clothes, toiletries, snacks, and, of course, his coffee. Her wings twitched faintly behind her as she placed the neatly folded items into the bag with care.

Shota emerged from the bedroom, his dark eyes still heavy with sleep, his scarf draped loosely around his shoulders. He paused in the doorway, watching her for a moment, a faint crease forming between his brows as he tried to process the scene before him.

"You're up early," he remarked, his voice still husky from sleep.

Maya glanced over her shoulder, offering him a small smile. "Well, someone has to make sure you're not forgetting anything important," she teased lightly, zipping up the bag and placing it near the door. "Can't have you running off without your toothbrush."

Shota's gaze softened as he stepped closer, his hand running through his disheveled hair. "You didn't have to do all this," he said, his tone quieter now, though he made no move to stop her.

Maya shrugged, brushing a strand of pink hair from her face. "I wanted to," she said simply. "It's what a wife does, right?"

Shota's lips twitched into a faint smirk, though there was something unreadable in his expression. He wasn't used to this—the thoughtfulness, the care. It stirred something unfamiliar and warm in his chest.

"You're making the rest of us look bad," he said, his tone dry but laced with subtle humor. He reached for the bag, but Maya swatted his hand away.

"Not yet," she said, her tone mock-stern, planting her hands on her hips as her wings fluttered slightly behind her. "Go sit down. I'm making breakfast."

Shota smirked, his dark eyes glinting with amusement. "You're really leaning into this wife role, aren't you?" he teased, but he didn't argue, moving to the couch and sinking into it with his usual lazy grace.

Maya shot him a pointed look over her shoulder. "Maybe I am. Someone has to make sure you're eating properly. Instant noodles and coffee don't count as breakfast."

Shota stretched out on the couch, watching her with a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips as she moved around the kitchen. Her wings twitched occasionally, her movements fluid and purposeful as she began pulling ingredients from the fridge and pantry.

"You're acting like I don't know how to take care of myself," he said, leaning back and crossing his arms behind his head.

Maya glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. "Oh, you know how," she replied, cracking an egg into a bowl with practiced ease. "But just because you know how doesn't mean you actually do it."

Maya froze for a second, her cheeks instantly turning a deep shade of pink as the memory of the previous day came flooding back. She cracked another egg a little too hard, the shell splintering into the bowl, and shot him a glare that could have melted steel.

"I feel fine," she said curtly, refusing to meet his gaze. "Sore, but fine. Thanks for asking."

Shota smirked, clearly enjoying her flustered state. He leaned casually on the counter, crossing his arms as his dark eyes glinted with mischief. "Interesting. Because from what I remember, you weren't exactly saying 'fine' yesterday." His smirk widened. "Your screaming daddy was a whole different story."

Maya's hand paused mid-whisk, her grip tightening on the handle as she turned to glare at him. "Do you want me to hit you with this?" she threatened, holding up the whisk like a weapon, her voice sharp but tinged with embarrassment.

Shota chuckled, unbothered by her outburst. "Go ahead," he said lazily, tilting his head. "It won't change the fact that you said it. Multiple times."

Maya groaned, covering her face with one hand as her wings fluttered wildly behind her, betraying her flustered state. "I swear, you're insufferable," she muttered, her voice muffled by her hand.

Shota leaned closer, his voice dropping to a low, teasing murmur. "And yet, you still screamed it." He straightened, walking over to the coffee machine, his smirk still firmly in place. "I'm just saying, if you ever feel like screaming it again, I'm happy to oblige."

Maya threw a dishtowel at him, her face burning as she grumbled, "Go sit down, old man, before I 'accidentally' burn your breakfast."

~~

After finishing breakfast, Maya stood at the door, watching Shota grab his bag and scarf. She smirked up at him, her arms crossed as she leaned casually against the frame.

"Don't forget to boss your students around today," she teased, her wings giving a small flicker as she spoke. "Wouldn't want them thinking you've gone soft."

Shota rolled his eyes but smirked back. "Don't burn the place down while I'm gone."

Maya waved him off with a mock salute. "Yes, sir. Have a good day, husband." Her playful emphasis on the word earned her a brief glare before he turned and headed out the door.

Once the apartment was quiet, Maya wandered over to the couch, scooping up Sora as she plopped down with a content sigh. "Well, Sora," she said, scratching the cat's chin as he purred. "It's just you and me again."

She grabbed the remote and flipped through the channels until she landed on a lighthearted show, settling deeper into the couch as Sora curled up on her lap. Her wings folded neatly behind her as she pulled a blanket over herself, the soft hum of the TV filling the room.

"This is the life," she muttered to herself, her lips curling into a relaxed smile. For the first time in a while, she felt like she could truly unwind—at least until Shota came home again.