You had known Kyojuro Rengoku for what felt like forever—or at least, long enough to deeply admire the fire that burned within him, not just in battle but in his heart. He was a blazing presence in your life, warm and unwavering. So today, you decided to show your appreciation in the best way you knew how: by cooking.

The sweet potatoes were roasted to perfection, their skins slightly crisped, their insides golden and soft. As you handed them to Kyojuro, your fingers brushed briefly, and he looked at you with that ever-bright grin of his.

His eyes widened as he took a bite, and then, with his mouth still half-full, he practically shouted: “Umai!!”

The sheer joy in his voice startled you at first—but then you felt your cheeks grow warm, a gentle heat rising that had nothing to do with the fire crackling nearby.

You looked away, half-laughing under your breath. “You really like them that much?”

Kyojuro beamed, his amber eyes alight. “Delicious! Your cooking… it’s filled with passion! Like a flame!” He laughed heartily, tossing his head back. You couldn't help but join him, your laughter softer, but no less genuine.

For a moment, the world slowed. The sound of fire popping, the smell of roasted sweet potato, and Kyojuro's warm presence beside you… it felt right. His gaze lingered on you, thoughtful now, his smile still there but gentler.

“You always put so much care into what you do,” he said, voice lower, more sincere. “It’s admirable.”

Your heart gave a strange little flutter at his words. You glanced down, trying to gather your thoughts—was it always this easy to feel safe around him? Or had something shifted?