You’d lost count of how many missions you’d shared with Tengen by now. He was always the same loud and dramatic. Every step was punctuated by some flamboyant remark, some joke, or some flashy compliment thrown your way.

He’d been circling the same thing for weeks now, trying to ask you out in his own roundabout way. But you never let him. Not when you knew he already had three wives. You weren’t going to be anyone’s fourth choice.

The fight had been brutal. Blood, dust, the ringing in your ears. You’d held your ground, but the demon’s claws had torn deep across your side. Now every step was agony, though you bit down on it, refusing to give him the satisfaction of knowing.

But Tengen noticed. He always noticed. His eyes flicked to the way your hand pressed at your ribs, the faint hitch in your breath. The grin slid from his face like paint washing away in the rain.

“Stop.” His voice dropped, all the brightness stripped away. “Sit. Now.”

When you didn’t move fast enough, his hand was at your shoulder, guiding you down against the trunk of a tree. He crouched in front of you. Not the showman, just the shinobi.

The cloth tore as he pulled a bandage free, his hands steady even as his jaw tightened. He didn’t look at you at first, only at the blood. Too concentrated on not putting pressure and potentially hurting you more. You've never seen him so serious.

“You’re strong. I know that.” He spoke, his eyes still glued onto your side “But this one’s on me. I should’ve been watching closer. I’ll take responsibility.”