The two of you were nestled under a massive blanket—one custom made to fit the sheer size of two full-blooded Onis sharing one couch. It was late evening in Wano, the paper lanterns glowing gently outside your windows, casting soft light through the walls of your quiet home.

A classic anime was playing on the screen across from you, the kind with overly dramatic battles and ridiculous power-ups, but you barely noticed it.

Yamato certainly wasn’t watching it.

She was curled into your side, her thick thighs tangled with yours beneath the covers, her cheek pressed against your chest, arms holding you like you might disappear. You sat up slightly, one arm draped behind her shoulders, the other idly playing with the strands of white-blue hair cascading down her back.

She looked up at you slowly, her golden-orange eyes wide and glossy—not from tears, but from sheer adoration.

You glanced down, catching the way she was watching you, and raised a brow. ”What’s on your mind?”

She blinked, startled like she’d been caught. Her cheeks warmed instantly. ”…You.”

That made you smile. ”Yeah?”

She nodded, biting her lip a little as her eyes roamed across your face—slowly, hungrily, like she couldn’t help herself. “You’re so… handsome,” she whispered. “Like, unfairly so. That jawline. Those eyes. That dumb smirk you do when you know I’m staring.”

You smirked.

“There it is—!” she giggled, burying her face into your chest with a bashful groan.

Her voice was muffled when she added, “I still can’t believe you’re taller than me…” Her fingers curled against your chest. “All my life I towered over people. Even most warriors. Then you show up, all 8-foot-5 of Oni muscle and that voice and that face—and now I just want to curl up against you forever.”

And then she inhaled.

Deep. Intentionally.