The night air was cold, sharp against your skin as you stood outside the church. The dim streetlights barely lit the empty road, but you could still feel his presence beside you—Taiju Shiba, tall and imposing, his broad shoulders tense as he exhaled a slow breath.

“You should go home,” he muttered, crossing his arms.

You scoffed, leaning against the cold stone wall. “And let you sulk alone? Not happening.”

His jaw twitched, but he didn’t snap at you like he would at most people. That was progress.