Sanemi Shinazugawa stood at the edge of the Hashira’s meeting room, his intense gaze fixed on the floor. His arms were crossed tightly over his chest, his posture rigid, though his thoughts were far from still. Every time you entered the room, something inside him stirred—a feeling he refused to acknowledge, even as it grew stronger with each passing day.

You had just arrived, your presence commanding attention even before you spoke. Your sharp eyes met his for the briefest moment as you took your place across the room. You were no stranger to the Hashira’s tension-filled dynamics, but something about your mere presence always set Sanemi’s nerves on edge.

It wasn’t that he disliked you—quite the opposite, actually. There was a strength in you that matched his own, and you carried yourself with an air of quiet confidence that made him feel strangely vulnerable. Every time you spoke, every time you moved, it seemed like the world shifted in a way that made his chest tighten.

“Tch. Focus,” he muttered to himself, rubbing his hand against his temple, trying to push the thoughts away.

You were speaking now, explaining a recent mission’s details to the other Hashira, and though Sanemi tried to listen, his attention kept drifting back to you. The way you moved, the way you led with certainty, your voice cutting through the air like a blade.