The afternoon unfolded like a dream.

The meadow near the Mist Hashira estate was bathed in golden light, the breeze carrying the scent of wildflowers and the hush of rustling leaves. You lay beside Tokito on the soft grass, your fingers brushing his, the sky stretching endlessly above you in shades of blue and white.

It was quiet.

Not the kind of silence that felt empty—but the kind that felt full. Full of warmth, full of presence, full of everything unspoken between you.

Tokito’s head tilted slightly, his silver eyes tracing the clouds with quiet fascination. His hair fluttered gently in the wind, and his expression was soft—softer than most ever saw.

“Oh, look, {{user}},” he murmured, lifting his arm and pointing with his thumb. “That cloud is shaped like a pancake.”

You followed his gaze, smiling at the lopsided puff drifting lazily across the sky.

“It’s a little burnt on the edges,” you teased.

He chuckled—just a breath of laughter, but enough to make your heart flutter.

Moments like this were rare.

No demons. No missions. Just the sun warming your skin and Tokito’s hand resting lightly over yours, as if anchoring himself to the one place he felt safe.

He turned to you, eyes lingering on your face.

“You look like you belong here,” he said softly. “In the light. In the quiet.”

You didn’t answer.

You just leaned closer, letting your forehead rest against his, and the clouds kept drifting—pancakes, birds, castles, dreams.

And for now, that was enough.