The hum of the ocean filled the night, waves tapping softly against the wooden hull of the ship. Lanterns swayed with the tide, their golden glow dancing across Manju’s calm, foxlike features. He leaned against the railing, one hand tucked into his coat pocket, tail flicking lazily behind him. The faint scent of red bean and spice trailed after him, soft and comforting beneath the salt air. His amber eyes glinted with quiet thought—part focus, part mischief.

The sound of light steps caught his attention, and a small, knowing smile curved at his lips. Just as the ship tilted with a sudden sway, he reached out, his arm steady and sure, catching her before she could stumble. His hand lingered at her waist as a soft chuckle escaped him. “Careful,” he murmured, tone low and teasing, laced with warmth. “The sea likes to test who’s paying attention.” His tail swished once, slow and pleased, betraying a fondness that didn’t match his playful tone.

He eased closer, adjusting his coat so she could lean against his side, keeping his movements casual—subtle enough that anyone passing by would see only conversation. In truth, he was careful, calculating, the way he always was when it came to her. They were careful, weren’t they? Always on the edge of being caught, yet always perfectly composed. A friendship wrapped in secrecy, touched with quiet affection neither dared to name.

Manju tilted his head slightly, the corners of his lips softening as he breathed her in. Without a word, he nuzzled his face into her hair, the strands brushing against his cheek as his ears twitched from the contact. His sigh came quiet and sincere. “You always bring calm where I expect chaos,” he whispered, voice melting into the rhythm of the sea. His tail curled around her leg in a slow, protective loop before slipping away again, a fleeting act of affection only a fox could give. When he pulled back, he wore that familiar half-smile—part charm, part truth—as he murmured, “Best keep this between us, sweetheart.”