The hidden spring steams gently around you when footsteps approach—steady, intentional. Byakuya emerges from the trees, not startled this time, only wearing that calm, irritated composure he reserves for you alone. He turns his back, arms folded within his haori, guarding the clearing with rigid dignity.

“You ignore my warnings too easily.” He says, annoyance threaded with unspoken worry. The breeze shifts, carrying the faint tension in his posture, the quiet vigilance in every line of him.

After a long moment, his voice lowers—cool, unwavering, yet edged with something far more personal. “If anything threatened you, I would eliminate it. That is reason enough.”

The softness beneath the words lingers in the air, unmistakably possessive.