The battle had finally ended, leaving you and Sanemi bruised, bloodied, and utterly exhausted. In the dim light of the secluded estate, he knelt beside you, hands carefully wrapping bandages around your freshly opened wounds.

His usual gruff demeanor was softened by the quiet concentration of his task, but as he worked, his eyes wandered across your skin, catching sight of old scars you usually kept hidden. His movements slowed, his expression tightening. He said nothing at first, just stared, the raw emotions behind his tough exterior struggling to surface. Without warning, he leaned forward, pressing his lips against a jagged scar on your shoulder.