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Barn swallows have built their nest under one of the eaves of the house, a cocoon of mud and grass that stands out against the wood. Inside, there are four young. It's a completely average number, which Yuuta knows from his near-lifelong enjoyment of birdwatching, yet it feels significant.
There's a certain kinship that he feels with these birds, in how the number of their offspring matches his own, in how they defend their nest. Today, it's the male that monitors the garden – evident by the length of its tail. It appears to be a little on edge from all of Yuuta’s family's noise, with how its stare has barely left them, but not to the point of swooping.
Without fail, the nest is used every year; Yuuta likes to believe that the same birds return. While their lifespans are so much shorter than his own, something about two sets of parents watching the growth of each other's children is precious to him.
As Yuuta studies the nest, the female returns. Calls of their young start-up, accompanied by the flashes of yellow mouths as she feeds them, all desperate for her attention. It's not unlike their own family, he muses, and his chest tightens.
Yuuta hopes that he'll be there to watch them learn to fly or for their first flight. If any fall, he'll be there to heal them. From a distance, of course, as they're easy to overwhelm. He will ensure that all four leave their nest, continuing the similarities between their families.
Springtime would have to be Yuuta's favourite part of the year – between the swallows and the new colours that paint the vegetation. He and Maki had chosen their house for its quiet location and sweeping garden, a choice that he's glad of daily.
Sweetly scented, the wind carries the fragrance of the extensive amounts of flowers that make up their garden. The chatter of nearby birds, those sheltered behind the boughs and blossoms of their trees, provide pleasant background sound. With the sun warming his skin, bright in the cloudless sky, Yuuta is content.
To be more specific, his favourite part of the year is that of Spring break. While it has been a long (long, long) time since he has attended any classes, the same can't be said for his grandchildren.
From his seat at the head of the garden, one purposefully positioned for times such as this, Yuuta is allowed the honour of watching his family. The twins stand together, accompanied by their descendants and wives, chatting in a way that was once hard to wrap his head around. Their sons had always been troublemakers – unsuited to regular school from their knowledge of Jujutsu and how it set them apart. It didn't help that they egged each other on. Now, here they are.
With their confident postures, so distinctly carefree and Maki that it aches a little, the pair cradle their grandchildren – Yuuta's great-grandchildren. Smile lines cut deeply across their faces, brought forth from their banter and family alike. Gone are their days of teasing and boisterous laughter; the way they converse is distinctly adult.
While their childhoods have long since passed, they're still his children. Sometimes, he can see hints of their younger selves about them – in their competitive spirits that never faded, or how they still mock-groan whenever their parents kiss.
Yuuta was delighted when those behaviours were passed down, particularly that of Maki's competitive spirit. To see the traits of the one he loves most present and mixed with his own was quite beyond words. Being able to gaze at their family and pick out the slant of her eyes, the line of his nose, her eyebrows – was something Yuuta would never take for granted.
Miraculously, he had been allowed his deepest desire. That of a long, happy life alongside his loved ones.
But these thoughts are for after this reunion – the twins laugh, voices deep and volumes soft, and Yuuta's gaze shifts. With cursed energy that rivals his own, their daughter is always easy to locate.
She and her partner have seated themselves at the outdoor table, joined by her younger brother and his wife. Her son has disappeared, along with her brother’s eldest daughter, but Yuuta can sense their cursed energy from within the house. They've developed an interest in poking through his collection of treasures, something which he is glad of. Each has a story behind them, faded memories that shall live on through his family. When they ask for the stories, that is. He has a feeling that their grandfather rambling to them won't be properly appreciated until they're a little older.
He would prefer not to bore them, although much of his family seems to have inherited Maki's expression of disinterest – one he loves deeply. Currently, it's all too clearly written across the faces of his youngest son's twin girls. They're still in primary school, so the adult conversation and lack of others their age have twisted their expressions into something almost comical.
Yuuta's cheeks already hurt from smiling; honestly, he isn't sure if he has stopped in hours. The memory of this day is one that he will think back to for months to come, if not years. With their own busy lives, everyone can rarely be free for the entire day like this. He's so, so, unbelievably lucky.
Gentle, with an amount of pressure that he has had memorised for years, the hand in his squeezes.
Of course, Yuuta rarely sits alone in the garden. This time is no different.
His gaze drifts yet again, to the woman who has been at his side for sixty-four years now. While the first few years of that were as friends, over sixty of it has been as lovers. And, across it all, she has been the one to inspire him most.
The vision of his Maki's face is as familiar as his own – perhaps even more so. Set against the green of their garden, her hazel eyes stun him. A delicate warmth has been present in them for years, one that appeared after she birthed their twins. It's aimed exclusively at their family, containing a sort of contentment that Yuuta assisted in creating. He could not be more glad, ecstatic to be a part of anything that brings her such happiness.
Her hair had faded into white years ago, a while after his own. It was certainly an effect of her heavenly restriction. It has kept her noticeably agile and strong for her age and, while Yuuta was well above-average too, he relied on circulating his cursed energy.
Without a doubt, this stage in life would have to be when he has found her most beautiful. Although, Yuuta has found that to be true with every new stage they have progressed to. With her wrinkles that have developed during their time together, noticeably deep around her mouth – her smile lines. They carry the proof of her enjoyment of their life together, each slowly forming over the course of their marriage. Her white hair is striking, and her eyes are still sharp. Then, best of all, her smile. One that hasn't changed in all of their years together, carrying with it memories of an entire life together.
It reminds him of her quiet excitement during their first date, of her exultation at their wedding, of the tired smile she had flashed after first giving birth… The love that he feels for his wife – this strong and caring and praiseworthy woman who has allowed him the privilege of spending his life with her – is boundless.
It's with complete honesty that Yuuta can say he has never taken this all for granted. The limit of his feelings for his wife hasn't been reached – can't be reached. Each and every day, he's glad that they survived and found such love in each other. If only his younger self could see him now, with this endless bliss and so much to live for.
Before him, Maki tilts her head just so. There is no doubt that she knows exactly what's on his mind; they have had their lives to learn each other. Besides, he's sure she's thinking the same too. His Maki (his Maki Okkotsu) has always carried the same tenderness as he, just less openly. Although – with the births of their children, there were undeniable improvements.
“We should go join them, who knows when they'll all be free again.” she murmurs, voice warm in her satisfaction.
“Let me spend a little longer with you.”
The love in her gaze is dizzying, so prevalent that it could leave him breathless. Yuuta can't help himself – he leans in, closing the slight distance between them.
Maki's lips are soft against his, less plump than in her youth, and the sensation has his chest aching once more. This is the proof of their lives together.
Familiar groans start up – the good-natured grumbles of their twins. Their kiss breaks, forced to end by their irrepressible smiles and this gentle, potent love that binds all present.
“Sounds like you won't get your wish.”
“I guess not.”
Smile unbroken, he rises. Across the garden, the twins beam at their parents – their daughter and youngest mirroring their expressions. Yuuta can see his own smile in each of them, in the scrunch of their eyes.
With love seeping from his chest, surely visible from its magnitude, he turns back to Maki. Their hands are still intertwined and, as carefully as ever, he guides her from their bench.
Finally, with one quick, indulgent kiss that Maki surprises him with, the two start across the grass to where their beloved family awaits.
The taste of her lingers and, as their children pull out chairs for them, Yuuta can't help but feel pride in himself and Maki. They built this together – lived despite everything against them.
Sweetly, tenderly, Maki caresses his hand with her thumb, and his next breath trembles in his chest.
This was what they had fought to experience and it was so, terribly, overwhelmingly worth it.