You spun your double-ended blades with effortless grace, the blades whispering through the air, slicing the silence into delicate, shimmering threads. In that moment, the peaceful solitude was a sanctuary—your eyes closed, your mind clear, your heart steady. It was rare—precious—this quiet, this calm.
Then, suddenly, the peace shattered.
The door burst open with a violent bang, rattling the walls and shattering the tranquility like glass. Your blades froze mid-air, tension snapping through your body. You turned your head slowly, irritation flickering across your face as your eyes met the furious gaze of the First Division Captain—Narumi.
His expression was a storm—fierce, desperate, almost trembling with unspoken emotion. His steps were heavy, his glare intense enough to burn through steel.
"Y/N!!!" His voice was loud, raw with emotion—pleading, angry, almost broken. He pointed accusingly at you, frustration etched into every line of his face. "You said you were gonna play the BS5 with me!!"
A sly smirk curled your lips, amusement and defiance blending. "I don't recall—" you teased, raising an eyebrow, feeling that thrill of provoking him.
His face twisted with irritation—an irk mark darkening his brow—before he suddenly snatched your weapon from your grasp with a swift, possessive grip. His voice was commanding, trembling with underlying need.
"You're gonna play the BS5 with me. That's an order."
Your irritation bubbled beneath your skin, but you held back, knowing this was more than just a game for him. He was desperate—so desperate to hold onto something real, something shared. The urge to protest was drowned out by the flicker of something deeper—an ache you couldn't quite name.
Before you could speak, a warm, firm arm slipped around your waist. Strong and sure, Narumi lifted you effortlessly, carrying you out of the room with a quiet determination. His touch was possessive—every movement a silent declaration of how much he needed you, how much he longed to keep you close.
"Can you put me down, maybe?" you asked softly, voice tinged with irritation and something more vulnerable—an unspoken plea for space, for reassurance.
He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he kept walking, his pace unyielding. You attempted to tease—"Ask Rin to play with you. She'd love to."
Narumi brows furrowed. "I don't want to play with her."
He pushed open his doors, closed it behind him, and flicked on the light. His room was startlingly tidy—an odd contrast to his usual chaos. He leaned your weapon against the wall, then moved to his bed, releasing his grip as you sat at the end, feeling the weight of unspoken feelings pressing down on you.
"Narumi, my arms are sore," you said softly, rubbing your neck, meeting his intense Scarlett eyes—eyes that seemed to hold galaxies of emotion.
He lowered his head, so close your foreheads nearly touched. For a moment, you saw vulnerability—something fragile and raw—hidden behind his usual stoic facade.
"That's fine," he whispered, voice husky. "May you watch me play?"
The question caught you off guard. The softness in his tone, the flicker of longing—like he was trying to hold onto a fragile thread of connection—you hesitated, then nodded, unsure whether you should trust this moment.
He began assembling a makeshift fort on the floor in front of his TV, draping a blanket over it with care. The quiet, intimate act felt like a fragile promise—a silent vow of trust. Once finished, he turned on the TV, loaded BS5, and patted the space next to him, inviting you to sit.
