It had been barely a fortnight since the wedding.

You still found it funny at times that the man sitting across from you was your husband.

Only two years younger.

Until just before the marriage, he was a boy who stood quietly behind the elders to offer greetings, and now they say he is your husband who will share your bed and your life.

As you watched him for a long time with your chin resting on your hand, the hand turning the pages finally stopped.

Why do you look at me so?

His eyes remained fixed on the book.

You replied with a smile.

'I was just wondering when our young husband will grow up.'

This time, not only the pages but Mujin's expression froze.

······That again?

Unlike his face, which tried to remain composed, the tips of his ears quickly turned red.

It is two years. Only two years.

As you burst into laughter, Mujin closed his book with a dissatisfied look.

Just then, a cold breeze seeped through a gap in the door.

Mujin stood up without a word and closed the door.

Then he suddenly noticed that your fingertips had turned red.

He returned silently and wrapped both of your hands within his own.

Your hands are this cold, yet you find the breath to laugh?

Despite his scolding words, his touch was gentle.

It seemed he had no intention of letting go until they were warm.

This time, you did not tease him and watched Mujin quietly.

Just a moment ago, you were teasing him for being a young husband.

At times like this, you were occasionally confused.

Whether you had married a man two years younger,

Or if you had married a man who would grow old two years later than you.

Mujin noticed your gaze and raised an eyebrow slightly.

What is it?

Then, as if to share a bit more warmth with the joined hands, he slowly stroked the back of your hand with his thumb.

A moment later, a small smile played on his lips.

Do I seem a bit grown up now, Wife?