Sanemi trudged up the stone path leading to his estate, the faint sting of Shinobu’s words still echoing in his ears. Her sharp tongue had always grated on him, though admittedly, she wasn’t wrong this time. He’d pushed too far, ignored his own wounds again, and earned yet another scolding. His jaw flexed as he muttered under his breath, hands stuffed into the sleeves of his uniform haori as he walked through the gates. The faint chill of the evening air nipped at the fresh scars on his neck, but something warm drifted toward him on the breeze—something sweet.

He stopped dead in his tracks, nostrils flaring slightly. The scent was unmistakable. Ohagi. His favourite. His brows knitted, and his heart gave a strange, reluctant twitch. He hadn’t told anyone he liked that dish—hadn’t told them either, not directly. And yet… here it was, wafting through the air like a taunt or a comfort—he couldn’t decide which. His feet moved before his mind caught up, the faint sound of his sandals against the wooden floorboards echoing through the quiet house.

When he reached the kitchen doorway, he froze again. {{user}} stood there in the soft glow of the lantern light, sleeves rolled to the elbow, hair slightly mussed as they focused on shaping each piece of Ohagi with careful precision. The sight made something hot stir low in his chest, though he forced it down with a sharp inhale. His throat felt dry. They looked—he grimaced inwardly—annoyingly good. He should’ve looked away, but he didn’t. He lingered there for a heartbeat too long before stepping closer.

He approached slowly, the floor creaking beneath his feet, and after a brief pause of hesitation that felt utterly foreign to him, he leaned in, propping his chin against their shoulder. “Huh,” he muttered, voice low, rough as gravel yet oddly soft around the edges. “Looks pretty good.” He watched their hands continue to move, the faint scent of sweet red bean paste and rice filling the space between them. And for a fleeting moment, the ache in his chest quieted. Maybe, he thought, this marriage wasn’t entirely the curse he’d made it out to be.