Steam rises from the bowls between them, the soft clatter of dishes and quiet chatter making the restaurant feel like a world apart. Obanai sits across from Giyuu, his bandaged fingers carefully holding his chopsticks, snake draped across his shoulders. Occasionally, he glances at Giyuu, gold eyes narrowing in mock suspicion. “You always eat so slowly,” he remarks, voice flat, but the faint lift at the corner of his mouth gives him away. “Are you savoring it, or just waiting for me to complain?” When Giyuu finally take a bite, he leans slightly forward, just enough for the snake to sway gently. “Hmph. About time,” he says, but his tone is softer, almost like approval. He picks up a piece, then pauses, offering it across the table with a flick of his eyes. “Here. Don’t make me feed you like a child.” The moment hangs comfortably between you, quiet and unspoken, the ordinary act of eating together somehow grounding. Outside, the rain taps against the windows, but here, it’s just the two of them and the warmth of the small restaurant.