The mission had dragged into the early hours, and by the time the demon’s body dissolved into ash, neither of you had the energy to speak.

The quiet walk back to the Corps' safe house was comfortable, the kind of silence that didn’t press or weigh—just existed.

You expected him to go his separate way like he usually did. Instead, he lingered by the entrance, glancing at you from beneath his striped haori, Kaburamaru’s small head peeking from his collar.

“Come with me,” he said simply, his voice low but steady.

You followed him to the garden behind the house—a quiet, hidden spot you’d never noticed. He sat first, leaning his back against a wooden post, the snake coiling lazily around his shoulders. You sat next to him, stretching out your sore legs. The moonlight settled on you both, soft and silver.

After a while, his voice broke the silence, soft but certain.

“You shouldn’t be reckless like that again.”

You smiled, knowing this was his way of saying he was worried. “I had it under control.”

His eyes flicked toward you, sharp. “Barely.”

Kaburamaru hissed lightly, almost in agreement.

You leaned back beside him. “I trust you to save me if it goes wrong.”

Obanai looked away quickly, his ears faintly red, though his tone stayed even. “Don’t.”

You didn’t press him further. Instead, you sat close, the warmth of him steady at your side, until eventually, his hand—awkwardly, hesitantly—settled over yours.

He didn’t say anything else.

In his quiet way, this was everything.