You scoot forward in the tub, the water lapping softly against your skin as you make room for Gyomei. The air fills with the gentle sound of rippling water when he steps in, his weight shifting the surface until it rises and warms your back. He settles behind you with a low exhale, broad shoulders easing beneath the steam, and before you can say a word his arms find your waist—solid, encompassing, familiar.

A quiet hum escapes you as his lips brush your shoulder, the kiss tender and grounding. You tilt your head back, letting it rest against his chest. His heartbeat thrums steadily against your ear, a rhythm you’ve come to know better than your own. The warmth of the bath, his scent, the slow rise and fall of his breathing—it all melts together until the world feels impossibly small and safe, contained entirely within his embrace.