To the average man, Kanroji Mirsuri was an ideal woman.

Sure, she ate more than most men, but whatever she did the weight never seemed to go anywhere but her breasts. No one was complaining about that at all. Mitsuri was also cheerful and friendly, so really there was nothing wrong with her in the eyes of the male population at first glance.

Except for one thing.

"I'm going to ask her out!" Someone would inevitably say, bright eyed and excited.

"Don't bother," someone else would say, most likely having seen the results of what would happen already. "You've got no chance."

"Obanai-kun!" Sparkly eyed, Mitsuri went tearing down the school hallways and jumped on the boy in question without a care in the world even as teachers immediately scolded her about propriety.

The reaction to this was always the same.

"No way! The shaggy-haired, weird-eyed home-ec nerd?" The potential suitor looked torn between horror and disgust. "Maybe they're just friends."

It was a thought, except anyone with eyes could tell the shorter outcast didn't look at her like a friend. He was dour, unpersonable, and something of an asshole – the complete opposite of the effervescent Mitsuri. But he looked at her as if she hung the moon, sun, and stars with just the power of her smile alone and even they couldn't fault him for that.

Someone would inevitably shake their head. "Been that way since the first day she transferred in during primary."

Obanai inevitably heard numerous incarnations of this same conversation and smirked behind the white scarf he kept around his neck. He got cold very easily and apparently stupid people freaked out about snakes. The fools had no idea how non-existent their 'chance' was, though the ones who thought they could prove themselves a better man for Mitsuri if she gave them a chance annoyed him. Severely.

But then Mitsuri would jump on him, grab his arm, or otherwise pull his attention and he forgot everything else around them. Sometimes on a bad day he'd remember her face, but from a different time, and his heart would seize in a panic because he could almost smell the blood from wounds his brain knew she didn't have but memory reminded him she had.

Mitsuri, of course, also heard the conversations but generally ignored them until someone insulted Obanai. As soon as that happened she debated going over and tossing them out the window when the first insults left their lips. His hand settled on hers, however, and she pouted into his shoulder as he smiled his secret smile only she could see. Sometimes she pulled the scarf down just to remind herself he could, the lack of scars almost jarring sometimes. When it was just them, her fingers would sometimes trace where her memory reminded her they were, much to his red-faced embarrassment and consternation.

There was no grand moment when they both remembered. As a child, she'd transferred to his school, and all Obanai knew was that he had to be near her. Always. It gave him massive anxiety when she wasn't nearby, which he only understood the cause of much later. He was never a touchy-feely person but it seemed natural whenever Mitsuri hung onto his arm or hugged him and it never bothered him in the slightest.

It wasn't until they were older that other memories came, and for a while he thought he was the only one. They were out at the park, her head in his lap as they lounged about under the falling sakura blossoms, and that memory came to him and everything seemed to fall into place in his head, like several partially done puzzle chunks being clicked into place to form the whole.

Iguro-san, Iguro-san…Please. If we ever get reborn – if we're born again as human beings – will you make me your wife?

Of course…If you say you're fine with someone like me, then I will definitely make you happy. And next time, I will not let you die. I will protect you for sure.

Cherry blossoms landed in a small pile, right over her right eye, and for a second they looked red like blood and he instinctively brushed them away as his fingers trembled and he remembered.

The movement was enough to stir her and Mitsuri's big green eyes stared at him, his name a question on her lips, confused, but Obanai shook his head and said nothing. It was OK if she didn't remember the promise.

He did and that was enough.

That was the spring of their first year in junior high, which was something of a nightmare for his heart. The number of boys who chased her increased and the familiar scowl was almost constantly in place behind his mask. It was during their years here he discovered his talent for cooking…and Mitsuri's talent for burning things. But the smile on her face when he cooked for her warmed him in a way no scarf or sweater could replicate and it became natural to make lunch for them both every day just so he could watch her face light up in delight.

That it made him intimidating with a knife was just a side perk.

To Mitsuri, his surliness was adorable, if only because she knew why. Her memories were different than his; as a little girl, she'd dreamed of him long before she understood what the dreams all meant. While the content had been jarring and borderline traumatizing at points, she'd clung to the important fact that she knew there was one person out there who would love just her. She had a person she would one day meet and marry and wouldn't care that she was stupid strong or had an appetite that would put a grown man to shame. And she did find him, wonder of wonders, brooding in that corner desk with his mouth hidden behind the scarf around his neck he used to hide himself from the world. For Mitsuri, her heart could hardly contain itself in her excitement – a feeling she felt every day she spent with him.

Despite her happiness, Mitsuri didn't want to tell him – she didn't want Obanai to feel he was stuck or obligated to a promise made to her in another lifetime. It was a small, lingering insecurity despite how stupid she knew it was. She wanted to make sure he loved her and still wanted her without that promise hanging over his head. It was almost intolerable after that day under the sakura trees because she knew he knew too. He remembered and didn't say anything but she knew it was her Obanai because of all the little familiar changes that happened after that.

And all she wanted was to kiss him and be with him forever.

But Mitsuri was nothing but patient and she loved him enough to wait for him to say something on his own.

At least, that was the plan until he nearly got himself killed.

It was the summer festival of their second year and she'd dressed in her most flattering yukata just for him, giggling at his red face as he'd walked around the stalls with her, bought her food, and spoiled her rotten. It brought back memories of lunches in small little restaurants between their two territories, him barely eating and mostly just watching her eat with quiet affection while scratching Kaburamaru's head. Everything was always simply better and more fun with Obanai at her side and she was so happy as they walked she simply hadn't paid attention as they were crossing the street.

Mitsuri didn't remember much aside from the screeching of tires, Obanai yelling her name, and the smell of his familiar scent as he pushed her away, and the horrific sound of glass shattering and his body crumpling to the road. Blood stained her yukata and it felt, for one horrifying moment, like her blood froze in her veins and time was repeating itself – only she was holding him in her arms and she wasn't nearly so calm as he had been.

"Obanai! Please don't die!" she wailed, clutching him to her. "It's all my fault!"

"You're…OK." His fingers reached up and touched her face, trying to wipe away her tears. Blood dribbled from the corner of his mouth as he tried to reassure her. "I…had to protect you. I…I promised."

"I don't care about the promise if it means you get hurt!" she exploded, and his different colored eyes both widened.

"You…" He coughed before he could finish his words and the ambulance arrived then, taking him from her and Mitsuri's panic spiraled because they wouldn't let her go with him.

It was a long 2 weeks until she saw him again and Mitsuri spent most of it kicking herself over causing Obanai to get hurt. She wouldn't have even seen him for a while longer, normally, if one day the doorbell to her home rang and her mother had called upstairs, "Mitsuri! Your friend is here!"

Obanai? She shook her head, however, knowing he was likely to be in the hospital for at least a month; it was too soon for him to be out. She'd gone once, but seeing him in the hospital bed broken and hurt because of her had been too much and she left in tears again before he'd woken up.

It shouldn't have been, yet there he was – disheveled, looking a little worse for wear, and without a mask, scarf, or anything to hide his mouth that was set in a thin line.

"You should still be in the hospital!" Worry trumped her guilt as she ran down the stairs, coming to a stop half way cause he began walking up.

"I'm fine."

"No you're not!" She almost hit him for the outright stupidity of that lie, but remembered herself before she could.

"We need to talk." He didn't wait, grabbing her hand and tugging her back upstairs before she could protest. They went to her room and he shut the door, his back to her for a few minutes as the guilt began to override everything again.

Before he could turn around, Mitsuri blurted out, "I'm sorry!"

Obanai waved that off, instead looking at her with…the best description she could think of was terrified hope. "You remember? Everything?"

"Yes." There was no point in hiding that anymore. She'd all but confirmed it anyway. Her eyes watered as she watched his legs finally give out under him, sitting stunned on the floor with an unceremonious thump, and she grabbed his waist and cried because he was here and safe but he'd gotten hurt because of her.

Mitsuri spent a good hour crying in his lap, babbling apologies, and Obanai absently ran his fingers through her long hair while a great weight felt like it came off his shoulders. She remembers too. He felt…elated and terrified all at once, but she was refusing to let go of him and, frankly, he didn't want to waste anymore time now that he knew Mitsuri remembered as well.

"Kanroji. Mitsuri." Her sobbing had quieted to sniffles, though he could still tell she was crying. "I would jump in front of a million cars if it meant keeping you safe. It's not your fault."

"I thought I lost you again." She turned so she could look at his face, her hand reaching up and tracing where his old scars had been on either side of his lips. He winced, mostly from habit, despite knowing logically they weren't there anymore. "You can't…not this time. You're not allowed to die."

He leaned down so their foreheads touched, staring into her big green eyes that blinked away more tears. "I promised you once before I would make you happy. That if I was enough for you, I would protect you. Am I…do you still…?"

Mitsuri laughed then, a watery laugh and shifted so she could lean up just enough to kiss him – a quick, chaste kiss on the lips that was enough to send heat racing to his face. "You've always been enough…no. You've always been the only one." She sat up, wrapping her arms loosely around his neck, though she kept their faces close. "Just no more fighting with cars."

He chuckled under his breath, "They hit harder than any demon, that's for sure."

She did hit him on the shoulder this time, though it had absolutely no weight behind it.

"I'm going to ask her out!"

You can try, Obanai thought cynically the next time he heard that same stupid conversation, spoken between two young male hopefuls as they watched Mitsuri buying an armful of buns from the school store. The one moved to get up, but Obanai slipped past him, faster than he could blink, and grabbed half the buns from her arms as she paid for them, cheerfully oblivious.

Or so he thought, anyway. Her green eyes sparkled as she leaned in and kissed his cheeks that instantly turned red. "You heard it again, didn't you?"

"Shut up." The words had zero heat to them and were more of a mumble as they continued down the hall, ignoring the blatant stares their backs got as they went back to class.

In his mind, Obanai planned to marry her as soon as they graduated. He'd approached her parents about his intentions already, which was met with mixed results. Her mother was every bit like Mitsuri and found the whole thing utterly romantic. Her father, more reasonably, was concerned – as were several of her siblings in part due to their age. It wasn't any of them that were the biggest roadblock to his plan, however.

It was Mitsuri herself.

"I'm not saying I don't want to marry you!" It was, perhaps, the closest to a fight they'd ever had in either lifetime as they had lunch in the park that he'd prepared for them. Now that they were out of school as well, Kaburamaru was wrapped around his neck, blending in with the white scarf he always wore. Surprisingly, no one ever noticed he was there except Mitsuri, who was always thrilled to see him. (Little traitor even slithered over and napped around her neck sometimes when they had their dates, much to his consternation)

"I don't need more schooling," he ground out, cursing his boss several ways that he'd opened his damn mouth. He'd been working at a restaurant since the summer of his first year in senior high to better his cooking abilities and make money so he could save for an apartment of his own. Obanai exceeded the old man's expectations, but he'd mentioned him going to a culinary school so he could take over the place one day within earshot of Mitsuri and she thought it was a fabulous idea. So much so that she wanted to put off getting married so he could. "I do just fine without some middle-aged hack telling me the proper way to beat an egg."

"Iguro-sannnnn…" The way she said it, wide-eyed and pleading, made Obanai pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration.

It was just so unfair that she was that cute.

There was no argument after that; Obanai couldn't refuse her, though he did get some consolation out of it. Mitsuri would at least wear his ring, which gave him some piece of mind. While he'd love to have her live with him too, he did respect her family enough to know that wouldn't go down so well…yet. And he was nothing if not patient.

A few years was nothing when compared to a lifetime if it meant keeping his promise to give her forever.