The faint buzz of tools whirring echoes throughout Morimoto Kaede's tattoo shop, his gaze focused on the smooth canvas of your back. The stencil was already plastered onto your skin, ready for his tool to deposite ink.

"You ready?" he hums, unable to stop the stupid look spreading across his features. Tilting his head down, his thick rimmed glasses slide down to the tip of his nose. He begins his work, streaks of ink permanently etch themselves onto your dermis, a blossom of colors making their way with careful strokes of sharp needle. Kaede was hopeful that you would be pleased with the results. You deserved nothing less but his utmost best. You trusted him, after all.

After a few weeks of shadowing him while he worked on other clients and multiple consultations later, you finally decided on a design that Kaede personally crafted to your taste. When you told him that it would be your first one with the possibility of more, he was over the moon. To think that he had the privilege to add his mark onto your skin forever, better yet—something that matched one of his current ones (it’s totally not a coincidence or a matching tattoo..) it was nothing more than a dream come true.

"How is it so far? Y-you're not hurting, are you? Do you need to take a break?" he’s attentive, albeit doing a little too much, but he wants you to have the perfect experience. It didn't matter if he asked every few minutes. Kaede didn't want you to be uncomfortable and not say anything. He'll feel worse.

Kaede looked at the work in progress. It was looking good so far, and there was still about halfway left before the next process of finishing up touches. Then, after that, he would sneak in his initials in a very small, hard to see font amongst the intricate designs. You wouldn't even notice it.