我 ‧₊˚ .✿ hardest courtship ever
kyojuro rengoku x fem!reader x tengen uzui. you and tengen have been married for almost two years when you decide that kyojuro could be the best addition to your marriage. the only problem is that kyojuro is too oblivious to realize the crush you and tengen have on him. ˚.✦
It was Tengen's idea, actually. After a long mission, he came tired and bleeding, dropping on the bed and curling to your side. He didn't speak, you just played with his hair while he toyed with your nails and fingers.
Then, when the sun was completely down, Rengoku knocked on the door, asking about your husband's state and bringing some food. He told you at least five times that he was sorry to bother you two and left with a big smile and wishing Tengen a perfect recovery.
It took Tengen about six minutes to murmur against your neck, "I think I have a little crush on him. Do you?"
You just smiled. Of course you have a little crush on Kyojuro Rengoku. Who doesn't? Kind smile, hard working, strong, beautiful hair, piercing eyes, funny without trying. He's exactly your husband's and your type.
"Yeah. He's... he's cute."
"I think he likes me."
You burst out a laugh. "What now?"
Tengen just nods vigorously.
"Rengoku? Liking you? Please. He barely looks at me without turning into a tomato. No, no—if anyone’s got his heart racing, it’s me, sweetheart."
Tengen lifts his head just enough to give you that lopsided grin, the one that still makes your stomach flip even after years.
“You’re blind, babe. He brought me food at almost midnight. Hand-cooked. Apologized like he was interrupting a coronation. That’s not ‘polite coworker’ energy. That’s ‘I hope your wife doesn’t notice I’m in love with you’ energy.”
You snort. “He brought food because you got stabbed in the ribs, not because he’s proposing. And he smiled at me like six times. That’s flirting.”
“Smiling’s not flirting. Bringing soup is flirting. Smiling’s just… Rengoku.”
You tug a strand of his hair in retaliation. “You smiled at him first last week. I saw it. The slow one. With the head tilt.”
“That was appreciation for his form! The man’s got biceps like—”
“Like yours, yeah, I know.” You roll your eyes, but you’re grinning. “You’re jealous he might like me more.”
“Never. I’m jealous he hasn’t realized he likes me more.”
You both go quiet for a second, just breathing. The room smells like the miso Rengoku left on the table, still warm. Tengen’s thumb traces the inside of your wrist thoughtfully.
Then, softer: “What if we just… asked him?”
You blink. “Asked him what?”
“To join us.” He says it like it’s simple. “Not just flirting. Not just crushes. Us. You, me and him.”
You stare at him. The idea’s been there, humming under the surface for months. Every time Rengoku laughs too loud at one of Tengen’s jokes, every time he lingers after missions to check if you’re both okay, every time he blushes when you tease him about the way he blushes.
“You’re serious.”
“Dead serious. Flashiest marriage in the Corps. He’d fit. He’s loud, he’s loyal, he’s—” Tengen pauses, smirking. “—ridiculously pretty when he’s flustered. And you know he’d say yes. He’s too polite to say no to us.”
You bite your lip. “He’d combust.”
“Then we’ll catch him when he does.” Tengen nuzzles back into your neck, voice muffled but warm. “Think about it. Three of us. One ridiculous, perfect mess.”
You close your eyes, picturing it: Kyojuro’s flustered grin at the breakfast table, Tengen braiding his hair while you steal bites of his sweet potatoes, all three of you curled up like this after missions, alive and whole.
Yeah. You’re thinking about it.
That night you and Tengen spend planning how to conquer the heart of Rengoku, knowing how dense he can be at catching hints.
The three of you end up sparring at dawn in the Corps' training grounds, the air crisp and the sun just peeking over the mountains. Tengen, bandaged but moving like he owns the world, insists on demonstrating a new flashy technique. You accidentally position yourself between them, stretching dramatically.
You lean in close to Rengoku as Tengen circles, your voice a playful whisper. "Kyojuro, your form is perfect today. Those arms... I could watch you swing that sword all day. Makes a girl wonder what else those hands are good at." You wink, brushing a stray lock of his fiery hair behind his ear.
Tengen jumps in seamlessly, clapping Rengoku on the shoulder, lingering just a second too long.
"Ha! And that stance, Rengoku? Godly! You're so strong, so reliable." He flashes that dazzling grin, flexing subtly.
Rengoku beams, sweat glistening on his brow, completely oblivious. "Thank you both! Your compliments fuel my spirit! I am honored to train with such great friends!" He charges into another set of strikes, yelling encouragement like it's a pep rally.
You and Tengen exchange a look behind his back. Dense as a diamond, Tengen mouths. You stifle a laugh. Progress: zero. But his blush? Priceless.
After a grueling demon hunt, Tengen declares a mandatory recovery dip at a nearby hot spring. You three slip into the steaming water, still a little sore from the fight.
You sidle up to Rengoku, letting your shoulder brush his under the water. "Kyojuro, your skin looks so glowing after a fight. All that heat... it's intoxicating. Tengen and I were just saying how nice it would be to share more relaxing moments like this." You trace a lazy circle on his arm with your finger, eyes locked on his.
Rengoku laughs heartily, cheeks pink from the steam (or so he claims). "Haha! What loyal companions you are! Sharing an onsen is the ultimate bond of friendship! I feel rejuvenated already! Let us discuss battle strategies over sake later!" He dunks his head under the water, emerging with his unbreakable smile.
Tengen groans softly into your ear. "He's killing me."
A sudden summer shower traps the three of you under the overhang of the estate. Water drums on the tiles, the air smells of wet cedar.
You sit close enough that your knee touches Rengoku’s. “You always smell like firewood after training,” you murmur, not quite a compliment, not quite a question.
Tengen, on the other side, leans back on his palms. “And charcoal. It's hard to ignore.” He says it to the rain, but his eyes flick to Rengoku’s profile.
Rengoku turns, raindrops clinging to his lashes. “Ah, apologies! I should bathe more thoroughly—”
“No,” you both say at once, reaching for each of Rengoku's arms.
Rengoku blinks. “Well! The rain will wash us all clean soon enough!” He laughs, stretching his arms overhead, utterly content.
After one week of sending all types of hints to Rengoku, you and Tengen are exhausted and very frustrated. You are sitting on the floor, hair wet from the bath and sipping tea slowly when Tengen walks in.
"I literally just said to his face that we think he's the most incredible man we've ever met and he just answered that he appreciated our friendship so dearly. What is his problem?" Tengen drops to the floor by your side, giving you a tiny kiss in the mouth before serving a cup of tea to himself and refilling yours.
You sigh, setting your cup down with a soft clink. The steam curls up between you, carrying the faint scent of green tea. Tengen's presence is warm, but even he looks worn around the edges, his usual flash dimmed by the week's worth of failed flirtations.
"It's like talking to a wall. A very enthusiastic, very polite wall." You lean your head against his shoulder, fingers tracing idle patterns on his arm. "Remember yesterday? I 'accidentally' bumped into him during drills and told him his strength makes me feel safe, like I could lean on him forever. And he just… beamed and said, 'That's what comrades are for!'"
Tengen groans, rubbing his temple with one hand while the other finds yours under the table, intertwining fingers. "Don't get me started on the sparring session. I pinned him down and whispered right in his ear how his fire drives me wild, how I'd love to see it up close every night. He flips me off him, laughs, and goes, 'Your technique is improving! Let's go again!' The man is denser than his own sword."
You can't help but chuckle, though it's edged with exasperation. The room is quiet save for the distant chirp of crickets outside the shoji screens. Your hair drips a little onto the tatami, but you don't care.
"And the tea thing? We shared a cup, all of us. I thought that was subtle poetry. He just said it reminded him of sharing rations in the field."
Tengen takes a long sip of his tea, then sets it aside to pull you closer, his arm draping over your shoulders. "We're killing ourselves here. Weeks of this, and he's still treating us like best buddies in the Corps. Part of me wants to grab him by those fiery shoulders and yell, 'We want you in our bed, you oblivious flame!' But of course, he'd probably think it's a metaphor for teamwork."
You tilt your head up to meet his gaze, seeing the mix of frustration and fondness there.
"It's almost cute. Almost. But seriously, Tengen, what now? More hints? Or do we just… tell him straight? No subtlety left."
He smirks, though it's tired.
"He'd probably salute and declare it a new mission objective." He pauses, thumb brushing your cheek. "But yeah. Maybe it's time. Subtle's not working. Let's plan one big, flashy confession tomorrow. If he still doesn't get it… well, at least we'll have tried."
You nod, nestling into him.
The next evening comes faster than either of you expected.
Tengen, decides the confession needs to be flashy in true Uzui style. He spends the day preparing: lanterns strung around the engawa, a low table set with Rengoku’s absolute favorites—sweet potatoes grilled just right, tempura still crackling, miso-glazed cod, and a mountain of rice. There’s even a bottle of good sake warming on the side. You help him arrange it all, stealing kisses between tasks, both of you buzzing with nerves you refuse to name.
When Kyojuro arrives, right on time, his eyes light up like bonfires.
“This spread is magnificent! You honor me with such a feast!” He bows deeply, hair glowing in the lantern light, before stepping up onto the porch and kicking off his geta. “I brought dessert!”
He proudly holds up a cloth-wrapped bundle—homemade sweet mochi, still warm. You and Tengen exchange a quick glance. Of course he brought something. Of course.
Dinner starts easy. Laughter, stories from recent missions, the usual rhythm of the three of you. Kyojuro eats with his whole soul, praising every bite, complimenting Tengen’s grilling technique, your seasoning, the way the lanterns make everything “radiant.” He’s warm, bright, utterly himself.
But the longer it goes, the tighter the knot in your stomach gets. Every time you try to steer the conversation, brushing your foot against his under the table, letting your hand linger when passing him sake, Tengen dropping lines like “We always feel better when you’re around, Rengoku… like something’s complete” Kyojuro just beams wider.
“Thank you! Your friendship is a flame that never fades! I am truly blessed to have such passionate comrades!”
Tengen’s eye twitches. You feel your own smile straining.
By the time dessert comes out, the two of you are practically vibrating.
Tengen clears his throat, loud and dramatic. “Kyojuro.”
Kyojuro looks up mid-bite of mochi, cheeks puffed out like a squirrel. “Hm?”
You take a breath. Now or never.
“Tengen and I… we invited you here tonight for a reason.” Your voice is steady, but your heart is hammering. “It wasn’t just dinner.”
Kyojuro tilts his head, still chewing. “Oh? A new training regimen? A joint mission proposal? I am ready!”
Tengen pinches the bridge of his nose. “No, Rengoku. Not training. Not a mission.”
You lean forward, reaching across the table to take one of Kyojuro’s hands in both of yours. His skin is warm, always so warm. “Kyojuro. Listen to us. Really listen.”
He blinks those wide golden eyes, suddenly still.
“We’ve been trying to tell you something for weeks,” you continue. “With the sparring, the onsen, the tea, the compliments… everything. And you’re wonderful and kind and so utterly oblivious it’s driving us insane.”
Tengen leans in on his other side, voice low and rougher than usual. “We don’t just like you as a friend, Rengoku. We’re in love with you. Both of us. Ridiculously. Want-you-in-our-home, in-our-bed, in-our-life kind of in love.”
The silence that follows is deafening.
Kyojuro stares. First at you, then at Tengen, then back again. His mouth opens. Closes. Opens again.
Then, slowly, his whole face ignites. Cheeks, ears, neck, a blaze brighter than his hair.
“I… You…” He stammers, voice cracking for the first time either of you have ever heard. “You mean… romantically? The two of you… wish to court me? Together?”
Tengen throws his hands up. “Yes! Finally! God, Rengoku, we’ve been throwing ourselves at you for weeks! I pinned you in the dirt and told you your fire makes me burn, and you thought it was about sword forms!”
You squeeze Kyojuro’s hand tighter, frustration spilling over. “I told you your arms make me weak and that I want to wake up to your smile every morning, and you thanked me for the encouragement! Kyojuro, we are married. Happily. And we both want you with us. Not as a friend. As ours.”
Kyojuro’s eyes are huge now, shimmering. He looks like he’s been struck by lightning.
“I… I thought…” His voice is small. “I thought I was imagining things. That my feelings were… inappropriate. That I was reading too much into your kindness. I did not want to ruin what we have. I… I have admired you both for so long. Loved you. Quietly. Deeply. But I never dared hope—”
Tengen cuts him off by reaching over and cupping Kyojuro’s blazing cheek with one large hand.
“You idiot,” he says. “You beautiful, dense, perfect idiot.”
Kyojuro’s breath hitches.
You lean in on his other side, pressing your forehead gently to his temple. “We love you, Kyojuro. We want you. All of you. Say yes.”
For a moment, he just breathes.
Then he laughs. Not his usual booming laugh, but something softer, trembling, radiant.
“Yes,” he whispers. Then louder, fierce and sure: “Yes! With all my heart! I would be honored—no, overjoyed—to be yours!”
Tengen whoops, loud enough to startle the night birds, and pulls Kyojuro into a crushing hug across the table, dishes clattering dangerously. You join them, wrapping your arms around both, burying your face in Kyojuro’s warm neck as he clings to you both like he’s afraid it’s a dream.
When you finally pull apart, his face is still scarlet, but his smile is brighter than every lantern combined.
“I apologize,” he says earnestly, “for being so utterly oblivious.”
Tengen grins, wicked and fond. “We’ll punish you for that later.”
Kyojuro’s blush somehow deepens, and you laugh against his shoulder.
a/n: this was supposed to end in smut but i got sweet
