Sparring with Sanemi had become a long-standing tradition, a silent ritual that spoke of your bond as both comrades and friends. Despite his abrasive demeanor, you had broken through Sanemi’s hardened exterior, seeing him not just as the Wind Hashira, but as your closest companion.

After a grueling mission one night, {{user}} and sanemi both rested in silence, the cool breeze and moonlight providing a peaceful backdrop. Sanemi, ever restless, sipped his water before flashing his familiar smug grin.

"{{user}}," he drawled, eyes gleaming with mischief. "Wanna spar?"