Hey so can I have scenario where Sanemi female crush finds out about his more wholesome hobbies, and he’s bribing them with dinner like he normally does all the girls with zero romantic connotations to them. And his crush is like “is this your odd way of asking me out? I’m not gonna say no”.
This sooo cute, here’s my little scene:
You catch him in the courtyard. It’s the one spot where the sun hits warm and low in the late afternoon. Sanemi’s muttering to himself, half-crouched over something on the ground. You think he’s sharpening a blade or patching a tear in his uniform.
You’re wrong.
He jolts when he notices you, shoving something behind his back like a kid caught stealing snacks.
“Uh— the hell are you doing here?” he barks, cheeks a soft, traitorous pink.
You step closer, slow andcurious. That warm breeze slides between you, brushing the smell of spice and wild grass off him.
“I basically live here,” you say, lifting a brow. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing.” Instant, defensive. He shifts his weight like he’s hiding a body.
You lean a little, pretending not to see, until you definitely see: a half-finished little wood carving. It’s of a bird. Careful detail along the wings, smoother than you expected from someone with hands built for violence.
“Oh,” you breathe, surprised but soft. “Sanemi… it’s beautiful.”
His jaw flexes. “It’s stupid.”
“It’s not.”
He grunts, looking anywhere but you. “Whatever. You hungry or something? I was gonna… uh— I was gonna grab dinner. I usually treat the girls for training morale or some crap. So. If you want—”
He gestures vaguely, like the words itch his skin.
And you just stare at him for a second.
Because you’ve seen him buy people dinner before quick, impersonal, and transactional. But you’ve never seen him flustered. You’ve never seen him hide a little carved bird like it’s evidence. You’ve never seen him soften like this, even accidentally.
So you give him a slow smile, tilting your head just enough that he feels it in his chest.
“Sanemi,” you say, voice low, warm, teasing. “Is this your odd way of asking me out?”
He freezes like he stopped breathing.
“What?”
His voice cracks.
Sanemi Shinazugawa, The Wind Hashira, living embodiment of ‘don’t come near me,’ looks like someone just pulled the floor out from under him.
You step closer, the grass brushing your ankles, his shadow falling over your feet. His eyes flick to your mouth, then away so fast but you caught it.
“I’m not gonna say no,” you add.
His throat bobs. “No. I wasn’t— I mean— it’s not—”
But his ears are red.
You reach out, gently plucking the little carved bird from his hand. Your fingers brush his.
“I’d like to hear more about this,” you say, thumb brushing along the smooth wooden wing. “Over dinner.”
He swallows hard again. “…Fine,” he mutters. “But don’t go makin’ it weird.”
“Me?” you tease. “Or you?”
His eyes finally meet yours; sharp, hungry, nervous, and wanting.
“Just get your ass ready,” he says, voice dropping low in a way that sends heat curling down your spine. “If we’re doin’ dinner… I’m picking the place.”
You smile.
He looks away first.
