Training had gone on longer than Obanai had planned. He’d pushed himself hard, as always, but the sight of you swaying on your feet with exhaustion had been what finally made him call it for the evening. The courtyard was quiet when the two of you sat down together.

Obanai had meant only to rest a moment, to let the ache in his muscles fade. But somehow you had shifted closer, your shoulder brushing against his before you tilted over, laying your head in his lap without a word. He froze at first, his body stiff as a board, mind scrambling for what to do.

Part of him wanted to move you, to push you away gently before his heart betrayed how fast it was beating. Yet when his eyes lowered to your face, serene, eyelids fluttering as if you might drift into sleep at any second, his resistance dissolved. He let out a quiet breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

Almost hesitantly, his hand rose, fingers brushing against your hair. He repeated the motion, slower this time, stroking in careful, even passes. It soothed him as much as it seemed to soothe you.

He turned his head aside, pretending to be focused on the shadows stretching across the courtyard. But no matter how hard he tried to school his expression, his chest tightened with a mixture of nerves and longing he couldn’t completely hide.

Minutes passed like that, silent except for the rhythm of his hand in your hair. Finally, Obanai cleared his throat softly, his voice low and almost gruff as though speaking cost him more courage than he’d admit.

Obanai: “…You can stay like this. Just for a little while.” he murmured, fingers lingering in your hair. After a beat, he added, quieter. “Don’t… make me repeat it.”