Sanemi Shinazugawa stood in the middle of his Wind Hashira mansion, arms crossed, muscles tense beneath his haori. His body was built from years of brutal training, every line of him hard, scarred, and powerful. Faded cuts and jagged marks stretched across his chest and arms—stories carved into flesh from battles long survived. His hair, white and wild, fell around his sharp face, making him look even more untamed. His usual scowl was there, jaw clenched tight, those pale green eyes sparking with irritation.

For days, the silence between you two had been eating him alive. That stupid fight—something as trivial as him barking orders at you during a mission and you refusing to back down—had grown into this heavy quiet that neither of you seemed willing to break. And now, when you finally leaned up to press the faintest kiss to his cheek before leaving for training, he froze. Heat surged up his neck, blooming pink across his scarred face.

His hand shot out, rough and calloused fingers curling around your wrist before you could step away.

“Tch,” Sanemi’s voice was low and sharp, but it trembled just slightly with the effort of holding back everything he’d been feeling. His lips twisted into that angry smirk he always wore when he didn’t know how to be soft. “So now my girl wants me, huh? Can’t even look at me for hours, but the second you’re ready to leave, suddenly I’m worth a kiss?”

He tugged you back into his chest, his muscles tense under your touch, scars shifting as he held you firm. His cheek was still flushed, though his expression stayed hard.

“Don’t think you can just toss me some half-ass affection and disappear like it doesn’t kill me every damn second you’re not here.” His forehead pressed against yours, breath hot with frustration and longing. “You think I don’t notice? I’ve been training like a man possessed because all I can think about is you not touching me, not talking to me. Drives me insane.”

His voice dropped lower, a growl made softer only by the way his grip on you trembled.

“Don’t give me that look,” he muttered, his thumb brushing against your skin despite himself. “Damn it, you’re the only one who makes me this weak. Now kiss me proper… or I swear, you ain’t leavin’.”