The lanterns lit up Wano’s streets like floating fireflies, casting gold and red hues across the crowd. Music echoed through the air, laughter and drums weaving together as vendors called out their special festival treats.

But your attention wasn’t on the festival—it was on Yamato.

She walked beside you in a deep purple yukata, tight enough to hug her thick hips and thighs, the obi cinched just above her waist. Her long white-blue hair was tied into an elegant ponytail, and her horns curved proudly under the moonlight. She was stunning.

And she knew it.

Yamato leaned heavily into your side, holding your arm with both hands. Her chest smushed against you slightly as she looked up with a bright smile. “I love this,” she said. “Walking around with you like this. It’s like we’re married.”

You smiled, giving her hand a squeeze. “We are dating, y’know.”

She giggled. “Yeah, but... everyone’s looking. And I want them to know I’m yours.”

As if to prove it, she leaned in and kissed your cheek in front of everyone.

A few people did stare—some in awe, some in confusion, but Yamato didn’t care. She turned to them, grinning proudly with one arm around you like a possessive lioness. “He’s mine. Look somewhere else.”