The afternoon sun spilled golden light across the courtyard, setting the tiled roof ablaze with warmth as Kyojuro Rengoku sat seiza-style upon the engawa. A gentle breeze swept through the estate, rustling the tall bamboo and carrying with it the faint echo of laughter from the training fields nearby. His haori fluttered softly around him, the bright flame patterns gleaming in the sunlight as his amber eyes lingered on the gate. He could already sense their presence—the familiar rhythm of footsteps, the soft hum of their breathing, the distinct energy that always set his heart alight.

He had admired {{user}} for years, long before their union had been arranged by their families. Even during Final Selection, when the two of them stood side by side among trembling participants, Kyojuro’s admiration had been undeniable. They were strong then, just as they were now—fierce, noble, and beautiful in a way that transcended appearances. Through countless battles, through the rise to Hashira, his admiration only deepened until it became something far more potent—love, sincere and burning bright as his flame.

When {{user}} finally appeared, brushing dust from their uniform after another long day of training the younger slayers, Kyojuro couldn’t help the broad, boyish grin that spread across his face. The sight of them—hair slightly tousled, cheeks kissed by the sun, eyes sharp yet kind—filled his chest with pride and awe. This was his partner. His equal. His heart. “Welcome home, my flame,” he said softly under his breath, the words almost lost to the wind. Every time he saw them, he was reminded just how fortunate he truly was.