His parents used to tell him that home is where the heart is. To Yuuta, it's a simple sentence with an even simpler explanation.
As a kid, he has once been convinced – as most little boys his age – that he is born to be the cool, lone wolf who doesn't need anyone in his life. Girls were disgusting and carried germs, and he used to shy away from any female presence except his mother, his grandma, and his aunties. It's a twisted logic, really: Older women don't have these... germs. Only girl's aged ten and below have them, and so little Yuuta once avoided them like the plague until he met her when she and her family moved in their block.
"...and then remember how I got in a fight with Inko because he accused you of infecting me with your girl germs?" Yuuta asks, looking up at Marizo from his position, his head resting on her lap as they enjoy the quiet afternoon underneath the wisteria tree his grandfather planted decades ago. His wife hums and stares back at him, eyes of ash gazing fondly down at him as slender fingers card through his hair. Her lips are curled in the gentlest of smiles, and Yuuta finds himself staring dumbstruck at the woman of his dreams, the story he is trying to recount forgotten in favor of focusing every ounce of his attention into appreciating and falling all over again for the same smile that has convinced him from years past that she is the only girl he will ever marry when he grows up.
"I do remember, especially the part when–"
"Marry me," he tells her a little breathlessly, thoroughly captivated by the sight of those kind, grey eyes widening with surprise and the mesmerizing pink that now dusts her cheeks. Yuuta lifts one hand to gently cup the curve of one cheek, thumb brushing lightly against her soft and warm skin. Raven tresses slip past Marizo's shoulders as she averts her gaze to hide the blush forming on her face at the sudden question, and the newly-minted ISC Ranger is left dumbstruck yet again at how easy it is to fluster the woman he's asking her hand for marriage.
For three years they have already been married, but not a day passes by that Yuuta is reminded how lucky he is to finally have more than enough reason to call Marizo his, and for her to call him hers. He knows he is fated to love her when he was seven, and they promised to marry each other when they were ten. For his part he has doubted that Marizo would keep her word – even up to this very day he knows that she's the only one for him, and that he isn't the only one for her. And yet she never fails to choose him, day after day, from the moment he left Lianna and up to the day he returned and asked if she would have him.
She chooses him, and only him. The way she lovingly smiles at him, how her gentle and quiet voice soothes him whenever he wakes from a particularly horrible nightmare. How she unconsciously slaps a hand on his arms or chest whenever he makes her laugh with his silly jokes – dad jokes, to be precise, because he needs all the practice he can get for when they finally have a baby (or babies, who knows) to love and cherish and raise. The care she showers him with after a hard day's work, and after being away for so long because of the demands of his chosen career. The way she tears up with happiness whenever he presents her a gift or two during anniversaries and special occasions. How she softly gasps his name when they drown on each other in quiet moments of intimacy.
Yuuta, utterly entranced by Marizo's beauty in more ways than physical, falls for the way Marizo chooses him every single day. He knows that he will never love another until his dying breath and beyond.
His wife smiles bashfully down at him, leaning down to press those blessedly soft lips against him, leaving Yuuta breathless and wanting for more.
"Of course," she replies, giggling softly as Yuuta grins widely like a kid on Life Day and pulls her down for more kisses, their laughter as bright as the clear summer day.
His home is where Marizo is. Always and forever.
Yuuta has learned what the term is when he's 18, but he's experienced it when he was merely seven years old.
He watches from his perch on the kitchen table as Marizo busies herself with prepping their dinner, charcoal eyes following her every move. He watches, bewitched, as she tucks a stray strand of long, raven hair on one ear as she lifts the ladle to her lips, tasting if the stew she is cooking is good enough. a small, lovestruck sigh escapes him, and Marizo looks at him over her shoulder and asks if he is alright.
How is he so lucky to have snagged the love of his life and got her to marry him? Because there has been a lot of awkwardness and dumbassery on his part, and Marizo is smart enough to know her own worth. And yet there she stands in his– no, their kitchen, pastel blue apron around her slim waist, and cooking dinner for the two of them to share while they talk about how their day went (and maybe him sneaking in a corny dad joke or two).
The Ranger smiles at his wife as he gets up from his seat. He grabs the hair tie she's placed and forgotten on the table before approaching her, moving to stand behind her. Yuuta diligently combs her hair with careful movements, fingers carding through silky locks before gathering them and beginning the slow process of tying Marizo's hair up in a loose bun.
"Thank you, Yuu," she tells him brightly with a smile then shifting her focus back on the food. Yuuta smiles in return, stepping to the side and leaning, hip propped, against the kitchen counter.
"Anything for you, Mari," he answers in kind, and, unable to resist, lacing his hand with her unoccupied one. He lifts her hand and places a soft kiss on the back of it before letting it go.
Marizo takes her eyes off the simmering stew, grey eyes glinting with what seems to be mischief. "Anything?"
Oh, kriff. Godsdamn, the things that rare mischief do to him, the way they make him feel. Marizo has always been shy and reserved, gentle and quiet and supportive. Seeing this side of her never fails to make Yuuta lightheaded and wanting nothing more but to lift her up, carry her in his arms and lay her down onto any flat surface–
He nods dumbly at her, lips parting as his wife comes in too close for comfort. Not that he's complaining, really.
Marizo hands him the ladle, an apologetic smile on her beautiful face as she steps back and removes her apron. "Can you please watch the stew for me, then? I forgot to buy ice cream for dessert, and–"
–and she is out with a quick "I love you!" before Yuuta can even realize what has just occured.
Blinking, the Ranger is left glancing at the ladle in his hand, the stew, and the spot Marizo disappeared into.
Gods, he loves that woman so damn much.
As a kid, he has once been convinced – as most little boys his age – that he is born to be the cool, lone wolf who doesn't need anyone in his life. Girls were disgusting and carried germs, and he used to shy away from any female presence except his mother, his grandma, and his aunties. It's a twisted logic, really: Older women don't have these... germs. Only girl's aged ten and below have them, and so little Yuuta once avoided them like the plague until he met her when she and her family moved in their block.
"...and then remember how I got in a fight with Inko because he accused you of infecting me with your girl germs?" Yuuta asks, looking up at Marizo from his position, his head resting on her lap as they enjoy the quiet afternoon underneath the wisteria tree his grandfather planted decades ago. His wife hums and stares back at him, eyes of ash gazing fondly down at him as slender fingers card through his hair. Her lips are curled in the gentlest of smiles, and Yuuta finds himself staring dumbstruck at the woman of his dreams, the story he is trying to recount forgotten in favor of focusing every ounce of his attention into appreciating and falling all over again for the same smile that has convinced him from years past that she is the only girl he will ever marry when he grows up.
"I do remember, especially the part when–"
"Marry me," he tells her a little breathlessly, thoroughly captivated by the sight of those kind, grey eyes widening with surprise and the mesmerizing pink that now dusts her cheeks. Yuuta lifts one hand to gently cup the curve of one cheek, thumb brushing lightly against her soft and warm skin. Raven tresses slip past Marizo's shoulders as she averts her gaze to hide the blush forming on her face at the sudden question, and the newly-minted ISC Ranger is left dumbstruck yet again at how easy it is to fluster the woman he's asking her hand for marriage.
For three years they have already been married, but not a day passes by that Yuuta is reminded how lucky he is to finally have more than enough reason to call Marizo his, and for her to call him hers. He knows he is fated to love her when he was seven, and they promised to marry each other when they were ten. For his part he has doubted that Marizo would keep her word – even up to this very day he knows that she's the only one for him, and that he isn't the only one for her. And yet she never fails to choose him, day after day, from the moment he left Lianna and up to the day he returned and asked if she would have him.
She chooses him, and only him. The way she lovingly smiles at him, how her gentle and quiet voice soothes him whenever he wakes from a particularly horrible nightmare. How she unconsciously slaps a hand on his arms or chest whenever he makes her laugh with his silly jokes – dad jokes, to be precise, because he needs all the practice he can get for when they finally have a baby (or babies, who knows) to love and cherish and raise. The care she showers him with after a hard day's work, and after being away for so long because of the demands of his chosen career. The way she tears up with happiness whenever he presents her a gift or two during anniversaries and special occasions. How she softly gasps his name when they drown on each other in quiet moments of intimacy.
Yuuta, utterly entranced by Marizo's beauty in more ways than physical, falls for the way Marizo chooses him every single day. He knows that he will never love another until his dying breath and beyond.
His wife smiles bashfully down at him, leaning down to press those blessedly soft lips against him, leaving Yuuta breathless and wanting for more.
"Of course," she replies, giggling softly as Yuuta grins widely like a kid on Life Day and pulls her down for more kisses, their laughter as bright as the clear summer day.
His home is where Marizo is. Always and forever.
——
Koi no Yokan, Poet once told him, is the feeling one experiences upon meeting someone and knowing – based upon that feeling, whatever that is – that falling in love with them is inevitable. Basically a "premonition of love", so to speak.
Yuuta has learned what the term is when he's 18, but he's experienced it when he was merely seven years old.
He watches from his perch on the kitchen table as Marizo busies herself with prepping their dinner, charcoal eyes following her every move. He watches, bewitched, as she tucks a stray strand of long, raven hair on one ear as she lifts the ladle to her lips, tasting if the stew she is cooking is good enough. a small, lovestruck sigh escapes him, and Marizo looks at him over her shoulder and asks if he is alright.
How is he so lucky to have snagged the love of his life and got her to marry him? Because there has been a lot of awkwardness and dumbassery on his part, and Marizo is smart enough to know her own worth. And yet there she stands in his– no, their kitchen, pastel blue apron around her slim waist, and cooking dinner for the two of them to share while they talk about how their day went (and maybe him sneaking in a corny dad joke or two).
The Ranger smiles at his wife as he gets up from his seat. He grabs the hair tie she's placed and forgotten on the table before approaching her, moving to stand behind her. Yuuta diligently combs her hair with careful movements, fingers carding through silky locks before gathering them and beginning the slow process of tying Marizo's hair up in a loose bun.
"Thank you, Yuu," she tells him brightly with a smile then shifting her focus back on the food. Yuuta smiles in return, stepping to the side and leaning, hip propped, against the kitchen counter.
"Anything for you, Mari," he answers in kind, and, unable to resist, lacing his hand with her unoccupied one. He lifts her hand and places a soft kiss on the back of it before letting it go.
Marizo takes her eyes off the simmering stew, grey eyes glinting with what seems to be mischief. "Anything?"
Oh, kriff. Godsdamn, the things that rare mischief do to him, the way they make him feel. Marizo has always been shy and reserved, gentle and quiet and supportive. Seeing this side of her never fails to make Yuuta lightheaded and wanting nothing more but to lift her up, carry her in his arms and lay her down onto any flat surface–
He nods dumbly at her, lips parting as his wife comes in too close for comfort. Not that he's complaining, really.
Marizo hands him the ladle, an apologetic smile on her beautiful face as she steps back and removes her apron. "Can you please watch the stew for me, then? I forgot to buy ice cream for dessert, and–"
–and she is out with a quick "I love you!" before Yuuta can even realize what has just occured.
Blinking, the Ranger is left glancing at the ladle in his hand, the stew, and the spot Marizo disappeared into.
Gods, he loves that woman so damn much.
——
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