The sun was beginning to set when Obanai appeared silently at your doorstep. He never sent word ahead—not since he was a teenager. Back then, it had started as something unspoken, a quiet ritual: him showing up just to sit near you, just to listen, just to exist in the peace your presence gave him. Today was no different—at least, that’s what he thought.

But when he arrived, he saw you outside in the garden, laughing—too freely—with a man he didn’t recognize. Your eyes crinkled the way they used to when you teased him in the courtyard of the Rengoku estate. That same bright warmth now aimed at someone else.

Something in his chest twisted, sharp and cold. Kaburamaru shifted against his neck, sensing the subtle tension ripple through him. Obanai narrowed his mismatched eyes, watching from behind a tree like a shadow. It wasn’t jealousy he told himself. It was... concern. He didn’t trust strangers easily. And yet...

His mind betrayed him, dragging him back.

He remembered the first time he met you. You had followed Kyojuro into the training grounds, full of chatter and sunshine, trailing behind him like the warmth of summer. Obanai had been sitting off to the side, book in hand, barely acknowledging anyone. But you noticed him. You always noticed him.

“Is that a real snake?” you’d asked, crouching beside him without fear, pointing at Kaburamaru with wide, curious eyes. No disgust. No pity. Just genuine interest.

He hadn’t spoken at first. Just nodded. But you stayed there, undeterred, talking softly—so gently. That was the first time he thought someone might actually see him, not just the scars or the silence.

And now, years later, here you were again... but smiling at someone else.

Obanai stepped back from the scene, his jaw tight beneath his bandages. Maybe he should leave. Maybe he never should’ve come at all.

But the memory of your voice —“I’m glad you came today, Iguro”— held him like a chain.

He turned, slowly making his way toward your front steps. If you saw him now, he’d have to play it off—pretend he wasn’t bothered. Pretend his heart wasn’t beating too fast, or that he didn’t care who that man was. But the truth sat heavy in his chest.

You weren’t a child anymore. And neither was he.