[Narrator POV]
The kitchen buzzed with quiet conversation and the gentle clatter of teacups. Hakuno Kishinami stood by the stove, chatting politely with Emma Marko as the kettle hissed, steam coiling upward like a tiny spirit escaping from a bottle.
Meanwhile, at the round wooden table in the bakery, Ritsuka Fujimaru sat stiffly across from Flint Marko.
The cake—a golden pineapple sponge with crisp edges and a soft core—rested on a plate in front of him, half eaten. But Ritsuka barely tasted the last bites.
His hands were on his lap. His back was straight. He looked more like he was awaiting trial at the Clock Tower than sharing dessert in someone's living room.
Across from him, Flint leaned back with a black tea in hand, watching with that quiet, calculating calm of someone who had seen enough of life's dirt to read a man by his breathing.
Ritsuka's mind was a storm.
'I messed up my first impression. Damn it. I should've been calmer—more careful. He's clearly been through something hard. His eyes… he looked at me like someone who's had enough disappointment for five lives. And what did I do? I stuffed the cake in my mouth and begged to work under him like an idiot…'
"You're thinking too much. Relax, okay?" Flint's voice cut through the silence like a knife through sugar.
"Okay," Ritsuka nodded, forcing himself to take a deep breath.
"My wife's really good at making black tea. Want some?"
"Yes, please. I love black tea," Ritsuka said quickly, grateful for anything to take the edge off.
"Ohh, you have good taste. I agree." Flint chuckled, the mood lightening for a beat.
They drank. The silence settled again, less tense this time.
'But still… his aura… even with that kind smile, there's pressure under it. Like Karna when he's calm before a battle. He feels strict… not cruel, just not someone you lie to.' Ritsuka studied Flint silently.
Then Flint leaned forward.
"No point wasting time. Your girlfriend already did most of the talking to get you here. You, on the other hand, are sweating bullets like you're about to face an execution squad."
Ritsuka flinched. "Y-Yeah… I couldn't think straight. I'm sorry for showing such behavior. I—"
Flint raised a hand. "Relax. I get it. I did the same when I started out… as a thief."
Ritsuka blinked. "Wait… what?"
Flint took another sip, expression unchanged. "Yeah. I started stealing at thirteen. Didn't have a lot of choices. My mom was sick. We had no money. No one really stops shoplifters in New York unless they're the owner or a cop. So I did what I had to."
Ritsuka was stunned.
Flint went on, voice low but calm. "I got caught. Spent time in juvie. Got a lighter sentence 'cause I was a kid. But my mom didn't make it. If I hadn't met Emma… I'd probably still be doing the same. Probably worse."
He looked Ritsuka straight in the eye.
"So yeah, I'm a criminal. Or I was. You okay working under someone like that?"
There was no anger in his voice. Just honesty. A heavy, weathered truth.
"Yes," Ritsuka replied without hesitation.
"You didn't even pause to think," Flint said, raising an eyebrow.
"I don't need to. I'm okay with it."
Flint blinked, surprised. Then slowly, he nodded.
"Alright. You ever made a cake before?"
"I have. I've helped in hometown a few times. It was… decent. Good, not great."
"Good's not enough in my kitchen," Flint said, his voice suddenly sharper, more exacting. "I want you to make a cake."
"Okay," Ritsuka said instinctively.
"But first—why?" Flint asked, lifting his cup again. "You need a reason to make a cake. Baking without a reason is like going to exam without preparing for it."
Ritsuka paused.
Then it came to him.
That gentle smile Hakuno had given him this morning. The way she always stood beside him. His heart beat faster just thinking of her.
"…I want to make a cake to impress Hakuno," he said, eyes gleaming with a quiet, burning determination.
Flint's expression cracked into a small grin. "Ah… so it's Hakono, huh?"
"It's ha-ku-no," Ritsuka corrected politely, scratching his head.
"Hakuno, got it. So you wanna impress her. That's a good reason. Is it a gift?"
"Yes," Ritsuka nodded. "I know people buy things these days to give as gifts, but… I want to make something with my hands."
Flint laughed. "Now that's something I can respect."
---
[Meanwhile – Kitchen]
Emma Marko leaned on the counter, watching the young boy from a distance.
"I gotta say, that kid's got guts. Sat there like a soldier in front of my husband. Most people look at Flint and think he's about to beat a gangster half to death."
Hakuno offered a polite, if slightly awkward, laugh. Her eyes flicked toward Ritsuka, calm but alert.
"He's like that with strangers," she said. "But honestly, this whole conversation… feels more like a job interview than anything else."
Emma smirked. "That's because it is. My dear husband's measuring him. Seeing if he cracks."
"I see," Hakuno said quietly, watching Ritsuka carefully.
"Now everything depends on your boyfriend. Whether he can keep up."
Hakuno smiled, her voice soft and certain.
"He can. Ritsuka always does his best."
---
"I'm very strict regarding cake recipes," Flint said, his voice firm and calm, like a warning wrapped in warmth. "So I'm very strict here. Due to my past with fewer customers, I had so much free time to perfect my own recipes. That's why you'll never see them anywhere else in the world. You're working here, so you have to listen carefully. I'll do a final check on every cake. I don't know how many times I'll reject it, but only when I say yes, your cake is accepted. Understand?"
He expected nervousness, hesitation—maybe even irritation.
Instead, he saw something different.
Ritsuka's eyes, still tired from battles fought and sleepless nights endured, now shone with a deep, crystal-blue light. There was no arrogance. No fear. Just a calm, unwavering resolve.
"…How are you able to make such a face after hearing this?" Flint asked, caught off guard. "You're a weird one, you know that?"
Ritsuka scratched the back of his head, giving a sheepish smile.
"I think I'm grateful you're strict with me. Honestly, thank you. My father was the same. Even when I gave it my all, he always found something I could improve. At the time, it was frustrating… but now I understand. Because of that, I learned something important—if I'm going to do something, I have to do it with everything I have."
Flint paused. The smile on his lips faltered, and he silently listened as Ritsuka's voice grew steadier, more passionate.
"All the failures, pain, and experiences… they made me who I am. I've stumbled. I've fallen. But I kept going. A doctor once told me that the moment I learn from failure and stop fearing it is the moment I start surpassing even my best self. I still remember his words."
His gaze locked onto Flint's with surprising intensity.
"I've survived losing my home. I've seen the hopeless situations, But even in despair, I try to bring hope. That's why… I'll become a patissier who makes cakes that brighten someone's day—even if just a little. And to do that…"
He smiled. "I'll surpass you one day."
Flint blinked. For a long second, he just stood there, then chuckled—warm, hearty, and proud.
"You want to surpass me, huh?" Flint finally said. "Then do this: win a prize in an international cake contest with one of my recipes."
Ritsuka's smile froze. "…Wait—INTERNATIONAL CONTEST?!"
Flint crossed his arms and leaned against the counter, nodding.
"I could never enter because of my record. I was a thief, remember? But you—you've got a clean slate. You've got a chance to take what I've built and turn it into something the whole world can taste. So do it. Or don't tell me you can't."
"…Of course I can do it, teacher," Ritsuka replied, steeling his nerves.
Flint grinned, satisfied. "Then let's do it properly. I'm Flint Marko, your new teacher."
"I'm Ritsuka Fujimaru—your student and your newest worker."
"…Fuji-Maro?"
"Fu-ji-ma-ru."
"Fujimaru. Got it."
Then Flint nodded toward the prep counter. "Now, you've got a cake to bake. One to impress… Hakono."
"…It's Hakuno."
"Right, Hakuno. Go make the best damn cake she's ever tasted."
As they entered the kitchen together, Flint waved toward the open hallway.
"Emma. Hakuno. I need you both to wait out front. The boy's gonna show me what he's made of."
"Of course," Emma said with a knowing smile, stepping out with Hakuno.
Hakuno glanced back toward the kitchen. Ritsuka was already tying his apron, his hands moving with confidence. The fire in his eyes was the same she'd seen when he stood before gods and kings. Not out of pride—but because he cared.
She smiled quietly.
"That look in his eyes… it's just like when he faces the unknown. He's taking this seriously."
Emma chuckled. "My husband look like serious, but he's a softie for talent. Let's see if your boy can impress him."
"…He will. He always does." Hakuno whispered.
---
(Inside the Kitchen — Narrator)
Ritsuka stood in front of the ingredients: flour, eggs, sugar, butter, vanilla beans, fruits. His fingers moved with quiet certainty, separating egg whites, melting butter, folding whipped cream into batter with the delicate care of a magus casting a ritual.
Flint watched from across the room. His usual carefree expression was gone—this was his judging face.
'Let's see what you're made of, Fujimaru.'
Ritsuka took a breath. In his mind, he thought not of battles or summons—but of a single girl, waiting in the other room.
The cake wasn't just for taste. It was for Hakuno. A confession. A memory.
And that alone made every step sacred.
He pressed forward.
Let the world judge him later.
Right now—this cake would speak first.
---
The orange hues of dusk spilled across the apartment walls like soft watercolor. The hum of the city murmured faintly through the windows. Ritsuka Fujimaru stepped through the door with a tired but proud smile — flour still lightly dusting his sleeves from the long day baking under Flint Marko's critical gaze.
"Finally home," he exhaled.
Hakuno Kishinami followed behind, slipping off her shoes with practiced grace, her warm brown eyes darting toward the hallway.
Inside, the apartment was calm. Two doors were already shut — signs that the other guests had arrived.
Ritsuka gently knocked on the nearest one.
"Moriarty, Karna. We're going to a small gathering tonight. Want to join us?"
A voice filtered through the door, smooth and dry.
"My Master, I've tangled with salesclerks and pushy vendors all day. My wits are exhausted," said James Moriarty likely reclining in full gentleman fashion.
Karna's response was brief but soft. "I'll pass. My presence might dim the mood. I'll rest instead."
Ritsuka chuckled, turning to Hakuno with a shrug.
"They've opted out like I thought. Guess it's just the two of us."
Hakuno nodded with a knowing smile. "Good. More cake and attention for me, then."
Ritsuka opened his shadow. From the shadow he withdrew the neatly wrapped dresses they'd purchased earlier in the day.
"You go first," he said, handing Hakuno her dress with care. "I'll change after."
Hakuno gave a teasing smirk, pausing at the door to the bathroom with her red evening gown in hand.
"Don't peek, Ritsuka."
"Eh? I wouldn't! I mean—okay!" he stammered, turning his back immediately with the discipline of a soldier reporting for duty.
Behind the door, Hakuno giggled quietly as she slipped into the gown, her heart fluttering.
'This idiot is so full of pure love… A dependable idiot, but still. He's hopeless. Honest to a fault, and he's husband material. I just hope no ill-intentioned woman ever tries to steal my Ritsuka…'
Her cheeks flushed pink at her own thoughts.
While Hakuno changed, Ritsuka fixed the cuffs on his dark formal suit. It was subtle, sleek — nothing extravagant. But on him, it fit perfectly. Like a man who'd walked through history, through fire, and came out with dignity intact. The red tie he picked out to match Hakuno's gown lay slightly askew on his chest.
Just as he was adjusting it, the bathroom door opened with a soft creak.
Ritsuka turned.
His breath caught.
Hakuno stepped into the room. Her red dress clung perfectly to her form — elegant, refined, bold. It wasn't overly showy, but it shimmered just enough to make the light dance on the curves of the fabric. Her short brown hair was tucked behind one ear, and her lips were painted with a faint shade of rose.
"You…"
Ritsuka blinked, then smiled with awe.
"You bring the beauty to the dress."
Hakuno froze. Her face turned as red as the gown.
"…You're unfair, Ritsuka," she muttered, stepping up and pinching his cheek. "Flatter me all you want, I'm not letting my guard down."
"You look amazing too," she added quickly, quieter this time. "Like…a prince out of a fantasy story."
Ritsuka beamed and offered her a hand.
"I'm your knight, aren't I?"
She didn't reply — just gently took his tie, fixing the knot expertly.
As she adjusted it, she avoided his gaze… until he said:
"Hakuno. Thank you for being with me."
Her hands paused. Then she turned around, facing away, her entire face the color of a tomato.
'He really knows how to hit my heart when I least expect it…'
---
They sat beside each other in the back of the taxi as the city lights blurred past.
Ritsuka looked at the glowing horizon of Westchester.
Hakuno leaned slightly onto his shoulder. "Nervous?"
Ritsuka shook his head. "Not really. With you here, it doesn't feel like a battlefield."
"…Liar," she teased. "You're trembling."
He chuckled. "That's just from remembering Flint's stare. His eyes said, 'your batter is one step from being thrown into Tartarus.'"
Ritsuka lied because he was preparing himself to confess today.
Then Ritsuka looked at her seriously.
"I want tonight to go well. Not just for the party. But because… moments like this… when it's just you and me, and we're doing normal things—I treasure them."
Hakuno stared into his eyes for a long second, then softly placed her hand over his.
"…Me too."
The cab pulled up in front of the Xavier Institute gates, where gentle lights glowed and music spilled from inside.
And just before they stepped out—
Hakuno whispered, "We'll make good memories tonight."
Ritsuka offered his hand again. "Together."
---
The chandelier light cast warm moon rays across the oak-paneled walls. Crystal glasses clinked, quiet jazz hummed from a speaker, and bottles of wine lined the buffet table. The return of the X-Men from their successful mission was marked with celebratory drinks, scattered laughter, and the occasional jabs exchanged between teammates.
Logan gruff and eternally skeptical sat relaxed on a couch for once, sipping a glass of red wine with surprising calm.
"Don't get used to this, Chuck. One mission going smooth don't mean I'm wearin' suits anytime soon," he muttered.
Across the room, Ororo Munroe (Storm) gently clapped her hands, addressing the younger students with the gentle authority of a queen.
"Alright, time for bed. This party's for grownups."
A wave of complaints came, but under her stern gaze, they obeyed. The mansion soon quieted as the young ones were ushered away. Few mutants like Rouge and few already went to rest. They don't want to be in party for too long.
As the adult conversations resumed, Kitty Pryde tilted her wine glass and raised an eyebrow.
"Okay, real talk—who are the new P.E. teachers? The kids won't shut up about them. Apparently, they're better than Colossus."
She smirked mischievously.
From across the room, Piotr Rasputin (Colossus) slowly turned his head, arching an unimpressed brow. "Better…?" he repeated, dryly.
Kurt Wagner (Nightcrawler) chimed in with his signature cheerful tone. "It's true, Piotr! I've never seen the kids talk about anyone like that. They said Ritsuka played dodgeball with them like Ronaldo, then helped a girl build confidence with a motivation speech. Even Jonathan was smiling!"
"They never smiled for me," Colossus muttered.
Betsy Braddock (Psylocke), brushing purple hair from her face, added, "And the girl — Hakuno? I heard she caught a kid falling from the climbing wall before anyone could blink. That kind of awareness is rare. She even played tennis with them."
Bobby Drake (Iceman) grinned, raising his glass. "Okay, but what is their deal? Are they mutant-adjacent, or like, weirdly nice human order?"
From the corner, Jean Grey sipped her wine and smiled knowingly. "You could say they've been through something but they are real deal. He's... grounded. Kind. Kids sense that."
Scott Summers gave a short nod beside her, arms crossed.
"That guy's the type who makes friends in a battlefield. I respect that."
Everyone turned to stare at Scott.
Remy Lebeau (Gambit) coughed. "Hold up, did Cyclops just compliment a human?"
Scott blinked. "I said what I said."
Jean laughed softly. "Speaking of which—look who just arrived."
The large doors opened slowly. Conversations hushed. All eyes turned.
In walked a young couple.
Ritsuka Fujimaru, in a dark suit with a red tie adjusted perfectly, looked calm, confident, and yet naturally unassuming. Beside him, Hakuno Kishinami, in her deep crimson dress, shone like a flame dancing in the wind graceful, quiet, but unmistakably strong.
They walked hand in hand. The entire room stared. Even Logan blinked.
"Damn," murmured Bobby, half to himself.
"Did someone say wedding tonight?" Remy smirked, elbowing Piotr, who remained expressionless.
Scott stepped forward, offering his hand.
"Glad you could make it."
Jean gave a warm smile. "You look amazing, both of you."
"Thank you," Ritsuka said with genuine humility. "It's an honor to be here."
Professor Xavier wheeled forward, his expression calm but teasing. "You two… look like you just walked out of a wedding photo."
Hakuno flushed. Ritsuka blinked.
"Oh no—ah—sorry, I was trying to joke," Xavier added quickly, coughing awkwardly. "It…didn't land, did it?"
Hakuno chuckled lightly. "Not quite, Professor. It's classic old 90's compliment."
"But we'll take it as a good compliment," Ritsuka added, bowing his head slightly.
As drinks were passed to them, Jean and Scott began to introduce the pair to the room.
"Ritsuka Fujimaru, Hakuno Kishinami. They're…new staff helping with P.E. and motivation speaker," Scott said, leaving the rest vague.
Logan leaned back. "So, you're the ones who turned my rowdy brats into smiling monks?"
Ritsuka smiled sheepishly. "We just talked with them. Kids respond when you treat them like equals."
Betsy sipped her drink. "Even the psychic-resistant ones?"
"Especially them," Hakuno replied, eyes sharp but kind. "They're not just resisting powers. They're resisting isolation."
There was a brief pause.
Jubilee stepped forward, her regal posture softening. "You must have a unique understanding. Not many humans last a day here without looking like they've walked into a warzone."
Ritsuka nodded. "We've walked through a few. So we know when peace matters most."
Nightcrawler grinned. "Well said."
Ritsuka was soon pulled into a conversation by Betsy, kitty, Jubilee and Kurt. Piotr was interested in games both Hakuno and Ritsuka played with kids. He talked more about the improvement of games for kids. He was happy to know both new teachers are really good in games.
---
In the corner of the main hall, Logan stood silently with his drink. The others were still mingling, music still drifting softly through the air.
But Logan's eyes were locked — watching Ritsuka from afar, unmoving, unblinking.
Ororo approached him, brow raised, voice quiet. "Why are you staring at him like that, Logan?"
Logan didn't answer at first. He tilted his head slightly, took a long breath in through his nose, and let out a growl low in his throat.
"…That kid's been soaked in blood," he muttered, eyes narrowed. "It's not just battle. I can smell it — death, guilt, and something else. Something… wrong."
Ororo's eyes widened slightly. "Logan—"
"I don't trust him," Logan snapped, keeping his voice low. "Ain't saying he's the enemy. But he ain't no ordinary 'good guy' either."
With that, he grabbed a fresh bottle of wine from the bar, ignoring Bobby's raised eyebrow, and strode out through the open door into the night, disappearing into the trees.
Ororo stood there, stunned. She looked over at where Ritsuka and Hakuno were now leaving the party for the gardens, hand-in-hand.
She said nothing only watched. Thoughtful. Suspicious. Her instincts stirred.
"Too good to be true," she thought. "Humans don't smile at mutants like that. Not unless they want something… or they've seen something worse."
She made a silent note. Talk to Charles. Soon.
---
The sky stretched wide overhead, full of stars. The wind rustled gently through the roses and the trimmed hedges.
Ritsuka and Hakuno sat on a wooden bench near the flower beds, surrounded by warm garden lights and the fragrance of night blooms. Their plates were empty now — traces of food long gone.
Ritsuka leaned back, stealing a glance at Hakuno, who was chewing the last bite of dessert with a content hum. Her red dress caught the light like velvet flames.
He smiled to himself.
'I really just love seeing her smile…'
She caught him looking, and tilted her head.
"We did so much today," Hakuno said, brushing hair from her cheek. "And yet, it all flew by. It's already night."
Ritsuka nodded. "Yeah. I didn't even notice the sun going down."
They sat in silence a moment. Their eyes met — and lingered. Just a second too long. Then both looked away.
A small, nervous laugh escaped Hakuno's lips.
'Today was fun. Because of her,' Ritsuka thought. 'Everything... it's because of her.'
He looked down at his hands. His fist slowly tightened on his lap.
He took a breath.
Deep and steady.
Now.
He turned to her.
"…Hakuno," he said quietly.
She tilted her head, "Yes?"
He met her eyes. His amber irises didn't waver this time. "I love you."
Hakuno's eyes widened, a slow intake of breath caught in her throat.
Ritsuka's voice continued, low and steady. "I always thought… it was selfish. Selfish to wish for happiness after everything I've done. After all the blood on my hands from the Lostbelts, from the Singularities. But even if I can't change the past… I want to keep things as they are with you. Because to me—" his eyes softened, "—even the smallest smile of yours is more than enough."
Hakuno looked at him, silent, her expression unreadable.
"I don't want to burden you with how I feel," Ritsuka added quickly. "You've had your own journey. Your own scars. I don't even know the full story of what you went through in Moon Cell. Maybe I never will. So it's selfish, I know… to ask you to stay with me."
He looked down, clutching his knees tightly.
"I used to think I didn't have the right to love. Because every time I got close to someone… it ended in sacrifice, in duty, in silence. But now I realize—" he exhaled, "—I want to move forward. To be honest. I want to build something real. A bond not born from war, but from warmth."
He turned toward her again, his voice quiet.
"When I don't see you… I feel lonely. Like something's missing. I think… that's what love is."
He bowed his head. "And I know this is selfish, and probably a mess of feelings all jumbled up, but—if I can be honest in anything, I want it to be this."
He raised his eyes again, finally, sincerely.
"Hakuno-san… would you be with me? I want to be with you more. I want to spend time with you. The real you."
There was a long pause.
Then—Hakuno reached out and gently placed her hand over his.
"Stop saying you're selfish to love someone, Ritsuka," she said, voice tender. "You have every right to love. If anyone does… it's you."
Ritsuka blinked, surprised—until he saw the shock on her face, like a floodgate opening after years of quiet restraint.
"Do you remember the first time we met?" Hakuno asked.
He smiled faintly. "Yeah. You were helping me to pick out a swimsuit for Passionlip, I was just… wandering around the shop with mash."
Hakuno looked amused. "When I saw you, I felt so many things. Envy, rivalry… jealousy. You had something I didn't — bonds with so many. A warmth that drew people in. I thought… I needed to surpass you. That you were my rival."
Ritsuka looked stunned, but Hakuno just smirked playfully.
"So I acted confident. Showed off what I knew as a servant and master from the Moon Cell. And guess what? You totally fell for it." She grinned. "You actually believed I was the best."
Ritsuka gave a half-laugh, half-exhale. "I did. Because you are. You were so composed. So... Hakuno."
"I could talk about every Servant I've met," she said softly, "but right now, I don't want to ruin this moment by bringing them up. These memories — with you — are mine. Just ours. They're too precious."
She leaned forward — suddenly much closer. Their faces only inches apart.
"Ritsuka. Are you listening?" she asked, a teasing smile dancing on her lips.
Ritsuka's mind went blank. His heart practically exploded in his chest.
He nodded wordlessly, completely at her mercy.
Hakuno's voice turned softer again. "You always say it's others who give you courage. But to me — you're the one who gives strength and hope. Your kindness is real. It's not performative. It's… natural. And I've come to love that about you."
She stood up now, still holding his hand.
"I'm Kishinami Hakuno," she said. "And you're Ritsuka Fujimaru. We've both walked through battles no one else can understand. But what matters now… is that I want to know you more. I want to be with you."
She looked into his eyes, smile blooming like a sunrise.
"So thank you, Ritsuka — for telling me how you feel. And if you're willing to let me stay in your life… I couldn't be happier."
Then, with a soft laugh, she added:
"…Because Ritsuka—I love you too."
She bent down, picked up the sealed cake he had made, and gently opened it.
The smell of handmade sweetness filled the air. She took a bite and closed her eyes.
"Mmm… this is the best cake I've ever eaten."
Meanwhile, Ritsuka's face was burning. He had buried his face in his hands, his entire body red with embarrassment.
Hakuno laughed again, genuinely.
"And it tastes even better because you made it."
[To be continued…]
Note: Sorry for the late upload, guys. I got caught cold and fever, and I couldn't even write a chapter. At first, I thought it was just a headache, but it got worse yesterday. my voice even changed into something different because of cold. I"ve somewhat recovered today, so here's the chapter. Thanks for your patience! Please tell me how is the chapter.
Also guys I have decided to only focus on writing this one story. Sorry if you are looking forward for my old stories.