The snow kept falling heavier, clinging to Tanjiro’s lashes as the wind cut through the mountain pass. He stopped walking when he noticed {{user}} lagging behind—arms crossed tight, jaw clenched.

“You’re shaking,” he said softly.

She brushed it off, insisting she was fine, but Tanjiro had already untied his haori. He stepped closer and draped it over her shoulders without hesitation.

“Tanjiro—no,” she protested.

He shook his head, smiling gently despite the cold biting into him. “If you’re cold, then it’s a problem. That’s all.”

When she tried to hand it back, his expression grew serious—rare, unyielding. “Then we’ll both freeze,” he said simply. “I don’t mind.”

The wind howled around them.

He adjusted the haori so it sat properly on her, fingers lingering just long enough to make his ears burn red. “We’ll keep moving,” he added, quieter now. “As long as we’re together, we’ll be okay.”

And for the first time since the storm began, Tanjiro wasn’t smiling— but he was absolutely certain.