You’d had one of those weeks where everything felt like too much, too many responsibilities, too little rest, and not a single moment where you could truly breathe. By the time you made it back to the quiet little garden behind the Corps headquarters, the weight on your shoulders felt almost unbearable. You sat on the wooden step, staring out at the late afternoon sky, wondering when things had started to feel so heavy.

And then—

“Ah! There you are!”

The familiar, bright voice cut through the stillness like sunlight after rain. You looked up to see Rengoku Kyojuro striding toward you, his flame-patterned haori fluttering behind him, a small bundle wrapped neatly in a cloth clutched proudly in his hands. His grin was, as always, blinding.

“I come bearing sustenance!” He announced, setting the bundle down in front of you with a dramatic flourish. “Behold! A bento made with fiery passion!”

You blinked. “You… made this yourself?”

“Indeed!” He said, smiling proudly. “It may not rival the culinary arts of the finest chefs, but it was crafted with dedication and heart!”

When you opened the box, you immediately noticed that the rice was a little uneven, the vegetables slightly overcooked, and the tamagoyaki looked like it had fought a difficult battle with the pan but somehow, it was perfect. So him.