Gifts and roses..-*

Chapter 26 -

"Shinazugawa-San? Is something wrong?" Mitsuri asked quietly.

Sanemi opened his mouth to speak, but the words caught in his throat, tangled in disbelief. "What the hell-" he began, his voice cracking.

Mitsuri blinked, wide-eyed, while Obanai's brow furrowed further, his gaze darting between them in quiet bewilderment. The room stilled, and Sanemi's hands gripped the edge of the table, knuckles whitening. His thoughts splintered, sharp edges digging in as he struggled to pull them back into order, trying desperately to piece together the fragments of his mind that had exploded into this outburst.

Could it be true?

Could he actually have developed feelings for... him?

Was that why he had cared so much when he hadn't taken the gift- or When he had left before they could talk? Why he wanted so desperately to make amends?

His mind spun, circling around the growing possibility, refusing to be ignored. He had never considered it before, had buried such thoughts beneath layers of anger, denial, and the roles they played. But as he sat there, with Mitsuri and Obanai, something became disturbingly clear. That flicker of envy wasn't about them- it was about what they had.

The possibility hollowed him out, like a sudden vacuum tearing through his chest, and yet it slotted into place too easily. It made too much sense.

No. He refused to believe it.

Sanemi's head spun, the room starting to feel too small, too suffocating. He could hear the thudding of his pulse in his ears, everything closing in at once. He needed to sit down.

Obanai's voice cutting through the haze. "What's gotten into you, Shinazugawa?"

Sanemi tentatively sat back down in the chair, a flash of anger surfacing. "Why the hell do you care?" he snapped, sharper than intended as his emotions scrambled for a foothold. He was overwhelmed, unable to handle the creeping realization gnawing at him.

He wasn't like this- he wasn't supposed to feel like this.

Obanai gave him a hard look, his mouth pressing into a line, but before he could respond, Mitsuri intervened, "... do you maybe need some air?" she asked carefully, as she exchanged a quick glance with Obanai.

Sanemi's eyes darted between them, realizing how he must look like he was losing it. He needed to calm down. His shoulders slumped, and he released his hold on the table.

"Fuck... no. I-" he started, but the words stalled. His mind was too tangled to form a proper apology, but he knew he had to reel it in. "Just... ignore me. I didn't mean to... yeah. Just carry on."

Mitsuri raised a brow, still looking at him with concern. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, yeah." Sanemi waved her off, trying to act like it was nothing, but the tension in his voice lingered. "I'm fine. Go on."

Mitsuri hesitated for a second before nodding and turning back to Obanai, the room settled into a tense quiet, the earlier warmth now overshadowed by Sanemi's abrupt shift. It didn't take long for the easy flow of conversation to resume between the two hashira sat in front of him. But Sanemi felt the weight of the moment linger even as they carried on like nothing had happened. 

His thoughts refused to settle. It couldn't be true. Sanemi wouldn't allow it to be true. The very thought churned in his gut, twisting and wrenching at something deep inside him. But as much as he wanted to push it away, deny it, the pieces were all there, lining up in a way that made too much sense. Every flash of irritation, every frustrated glance in Giyuu's direction- it wasn't just anger. It had never been. The realization, unwelcome as it was, began to take root, pulling everything he thought he understood into question.