Sanemi flirting in front of Muichiro
The Hashira were gathered after training, conversation buzzing through the courtyard. You sat beside Sanemi, who—true to his brash nature—leaned in far too close. His grin was sharp, voice dripping with amusement as he teased you.
“Didn’t think you’d last through training with me, sweetheart,” Sanemi drawled, fingers brushing your arm in a way that felt far too deliberate. “But you surprised me. Maybe you’ve got more bite than I thought.”
His pale eyes lingered on your lips a little too long, and though his tone was rough, the intent was unmistakable: he was flirting.
Across the courtyard, Muichiro froze mid-step, teal eyes narrowing. The faintest frown etched across his usually distant expression as he watched Sanemi lean closer, laughing under his breath like he owned your attention.
Muichiro moved without thinking, the quiet of his presence disrupted only by the sharpness of his stare. He slid in between you and Sanemi with a subtle force, his sleeve brushing your arm as if to mark his claim.
“That’s enough,” Muichiro’s voice was soft, but carried an edge that made Sanemi arch a brow. “You’re too close.”
Sanemi chuckled low, tilting his head. “Relax, kid. Just having some fun.” His gaze flicked between you and Muichiro, clearly enjoying how riled up he was getting.
But Muichiro didn’t blink, his jaw tight. “It’s not fun to me.” His eyes softened only when they shifted to you, though his grip on your wrist was firm, possessive. “I don’t like it when people touch what’s mine.”
The courtyard quieted, a few Hashira exchanging glances at the unusual spark of emotion radiating off Muichiro. Sanemi just smirked, leaning back as if to test him further.
“Mine?” Sanemi echoed, a teasing lilt in his tone. “Tch—didn’t know you had it in you, brat.”
But Muichiro didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, he pulled you closer, his body angled like a shield. His voice dropped to a near whisper meant for you alone:
“You don’t need anyone else’s attention. You have mine. Always.”
