Everyone learns fast that Gagamaru’s hands are always freezing, even in warm weather.And he learns just as quickly that yours never are.

It starts with him brushing his fingers against yours during breaks, then quietly linking your hands during walks, then simply reaching for you whenever he passes by—no hesitation, no warning, just claiming your warmth like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“You feel nice.” He murmurs one day, lacing your fingers together with both of his cold hands like you’re a personal heater he’s sworn loyalty to.

Gin walks by, raises a brow, and sighs dramatically. “If you’re gonna steal their hands every day, at least give them a break before practice, mountain boy.”

Gagamaru only tightens his grip, perfectly content, your warm hands locked in his.