Suigetsu had been burned before—literally, a few times—but nothing like this.

He watched from a rock just beyond the clearing, chin propped lazily in his palm, pretending he wasn’t invested in the chaotic whirl of heat and flame happening just a few meters away. But he was. More than he should be.

{{user}} was training again.

They moved with reckless energy, surrounded by fire so intense the grass scorched beneath their feet. With a flick of their wrist, flame erupted from their palm and coiled around their arm like a living serpent, licking at the air without ever touching them. It was mesmerizing. Dangerous. Wild.

The total opposite of him.

Suigetsu was made of water. Flexible, calm, cold. He could slide through a sword slash or dissolve into a puddle and reform with ease. But {{user}}… they were an inferno. All passion and combustion. Where he flowed, they exploded.

And he liked them.

He hated that he liked them.

“Watching them again?” Karin’s voice broke through the trees like a shuriken to his pride. She stood behind him with a knowing smirk, arms folded and one eyebrow raised like she’d caught him stealing from the cookie jar.

Suigetsu didn’t look back. “Mind your business.”

“Oh, I am. It’s just funny how Mr. Liquid Cool can’t stop drooling over a walking wildfire.” She laughed as she walked off, leaving him to stew in his own thoughts.

He leaned back against the rock, muttering to himself. “They’d probably evaporate me if I got too close…”

But the truth was, {{user}} never seemed afraid of him. They joked with him, sparred with him, even stood so close sometimes he could feel the heat of their skin buzzing against his. They treated him like an equal—even when everyone else joked about how they’d cancel each other out if they touched.

And maybe they weren’t wrong. Fire and water didn’t mix.

But when he watched {{user}}—really watched them—he didn’t see chaos. He saw control. He saw someone who had mastered a force that should’ve consumed them. Someone strong, focused, and passionate in a way he didn’t know how to be.

Someone he wanted to know better.

Still, every time he got close to saying something, his stomach twisted up. What if he messed it up? What if they laughed? What if he really did evaporate?

This was going to end terribly.

Probably.

But he stayed put.