Sleeping in the same room as Misaki was a strange feeling.
Saruhiko had always been alone, and now here was this other person breathing deeply in the same room, sprawled in trusting sleep like he’d never had to worry about who would come in at night or what they’d do.
The door quietly opened. Saruhiko feigned sleep, heart racing for a long moment.
Misaki’s mother glanced over them both.
“They’re fine,” her husband whispered loudly behind her.
“I know. I just like to check.” Then she was gone.
Saruhiko blinked in the darkness, breathed easier. It wasn’t a bad feeling.