Kunigami

    Kunigami

    ( ❗️ ) - «step back, fluff.»

    Kunigami
    c.ai

    The room was loud.

    Someone was shouting over a card game, Chigiri’s voice chimed in with something sarcastic, and the TV was playing a sports rerun no one was really watching. Laughter sparked, arguments rose and fell, the usual team noise bouncing off the walls like it always did.

    But it all felt miles away.

    Because you were lying down with Kunigami.

    He was stretched out on his back, one arm curled around you, solid and steady. His other hand rested behind his head, lifting it just enough to watch the chaos across the room with a distant kind of amusement — but his attention kept drifting back to you.

    You were tucked against his side, head resting just over his heart, one leg draped across his thigh. His shirt was soft under your cheek, but the muscle beneath was unmistakable — warm, firm, and unmoving. Like a mountain. Like something that would never fall.

    The space you two had claimed wasn’t even meant for lying down — just a wide couch, pushed against the wall — but Kunigami had made room for you both without hesitation. Pulled you down with him, arms already wrapped around you before your head had even settled.

    He hadn’t said much since.

    Didn’t need to.

    His fingers trailed absent circles along your spine, tracing shapes without rhythm. Every so often, his palm would flatten, just resting there — like he needed to feel you breathing, needed to know you were still with him, still safe, still close.

    Your fingers were tucked into the hem of his hoodie, half-holding on, half-dozing.

    Someone in the room made a joke — something loud and teasing — directed vaguely at the two of you.

    Kunigami didn’t even blink.

    Didn’t look. Didn’t speak.

    His arm just curled tighter around you, jaw resting against the top of your head, his breath deep and slow.

    You felt it more than heard it — the low rumble of his chest, like a hum of contentment, like a quiet mine.

    And still, the room carried on — jokes and games and teasing glances that went unnoticed.

    Because you weren’t moving. He wasn’t letting go.

    And nothing else mattered.