The house was quiet, The night after a long patrol left both of you exhausted, and Obanai had insisted you rest in his resident with him. The warm lamplight barely reached the far corners, but it was enough for him to see you clearly, curled up beside him.

He had settled onto the futon first, letting Kaburamaru coil lazily around his shoulders. You had slid in next to him, careful not to disturb the snake, and he had stiffened initially, the rare intimacy making him uneasy. But when your shoulder brushed against his, something inside him softened, and he allowed himself to relax just enough to wrap an arm around you.

Your head rested against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat matching the slow rise and fall of your breathing. Obanai’s fingers threaded through your hair, the motion slow, deliberate, almost protective.

Kaburamaru shifted slightly, resting part of his sleek body against your side, and Obanai felt a small, possessive pang. He cleared his throat softly, trying to maintain his usual composure, though the faint brush of your cheek against his arm made him flush beneath his mask. He tightened his hold ever so slightly, as if daring to admit that he didn’t want this moment to end.