The Shadow Hashira - Tengen X Reader X Sanemi

50

-SANEMI'S POV-

Watching her wield my weapon was infuriating. It was bad enough that I was forced to train with her—now she was parading around the training grounds like she knew my techniques inside and out. My fingers tightened around the shaft of her double-sided spear, feeling its weight and balance, foreign but deadly in its design. The weapon fit her—a perfect match for her lithe form and precise movements.

She'd always looked at ease with it in hand, every strike and maneuver an extension of herself. Today, though, watching her grip my sword, her stance mirroring mine as she attempted a controlled slash, something inside me twisted.

"Having a hard time with that, asshole?" she taunted, flashing that damn smirk, her eyes sharp and glinting with challenge. Each movement she made was smooth and calculated, every flex and shift showing off the training she'd clearly put in over the years. The slits in her skirt revealed a bit of her skin.

Fuck what are you thinking man. Stop drifting off.

"Just watching you embarrass yourself," I shot back, even though it was clear she was doing better than I wanted to admit. She didn't reply, just continued practicing my Wind Breathing forms with fierce concentration, the slight curve of her waist and the smoothness in her stance making it hard to look away. The dark fabric of her outfit seemed to absorb the light, making her movements even more fluid, as if she were slipping between shadow and form.

Damn her.

Her stupid smile made something tighten in my chest every time I caught her at the edge of my vision, and I was disgusted at how easily my gaze traced along her frame—the defined lines of her body, the steady grace in her steps, the faint shimmer of sweat on her skin as she moved.

"Something wrong, wind boy?" She cocked an eyebrow, still holding my sword in her hand. "Didn't think a 'shadow' could keep up, did ya?"

"Keep dreaming," I growled, tearing my eyes away from her and shifting the spear in my hand, familiarizing myself with its weight. But even as I tried to ignore her, my focus kept slipping, my attention pulled back to the fierce concentration on her face, the intensity that matched the heat rising in my chest.

Watching her with my weapon felt unsettlingly intimate, and I hated how it affected me. She moved with the control and confidence I'd come to expect from her, and as much as I wanted to call her out, I couldn't deny the grudging respect forming beneath my irritation.

Still, I wasn't about to let her know any of that.

-BACK TO OUR MAIN GIRLLLLLL-

As I ran through one of the forms with Sanemi's sword in hand, I could feel him watching me with that usual piercing intensity. I tried to ignore it, focusing on replicating his movements, but this damn sword felt unwieldy in my hands compared to my spear. And the weight distribution... it was different. Awkward.

"Wind boy, this thing is a nightmare to control," I muttered, frustration creeping into my voice.

Sanemi rolled his eyes, striding over. "You're the one with the bright idea to challenge me to this, remember?" He looked at me pointedly, as if daring me to back down now.

"Fine. Show me what I'm missing, then," I snapped, defiance in my voice as I held the sword a little higher, determined not to let him get the better of me.

Without another word, he stepped up behind me, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from his chest against my back. His hands gripped my shoulders, steadying me, and I stiffened, not expecting the sudden contact. His hands were rough, calloused, and strong—hands that had clearly weathered countless battles. It felt... grounding.

"Don't tense up," he muttered, voice low. His breath brushed against my neck, sending a jolt through me. I forced myself to stay still, feeling his hold shift as he guided me, his body brushing against mine as he moved my arm. I could practically feel the anger simmering in him, like he wanted me to just get it right already so he could step away.

Why isn't he pulling back.

"Loosen your grip a bit," he instructed, his tone half exasperated, half something else, something more controlled and intense. "Let the blade's weight guide you instead of forcing it. You're fighting against it right now." His hands slipped down, guiding my wrists with that same fierce precision I'd seen in his fighting.

Our breaths were mingling, and despite the heat of his body close to mine, there was a stillness around us. Every time I shifted, even slightly, he adjusted, his fingers firm but... careful. It was like he was holding a live wire, like even he wasn't sure what to make of me.

"Is this working for you, Wind Boy?" I whispered, unable to resist the smirk creeping onto my face.

"Don't get cocky, Shadow," he muttered, his grip tightening slightly. "You've got a long way to go before you can handle this."

But the words sounded less biting than usual, his voice thick with something he was trying to cover up. His hand guided me as we moved through another series of steps, his focus sharp as he murmured corrections just above my ear. And each time he adjusted me, his hands lingering a second longer than they needed to, that same tension coiled tighter between us.

"Stop trying to fight the damn sword, and just follow through," he growled, his tone laced with irritation but softer than before. I could feel his breath against my cheek, and every muscle in my body was taut, aware of just how close he was.

With him there, guiding me, it finally clicked. I loosened my grip, shifting the weight as he'd shown me. This time, the blade's momentum carried me forward smoothly. The movement felt right, natural even, and I exhaled slowly, relief mixing with something else—a strange satisfaction at finally nailing it.

"There," I said, turning to look at him, that familiar smirk tugging at my lips. "Maybe you're not a complete waste as a teacher."

Sanemi's gaze lingered on mine for a second too long, his grip still firm on my wrists. His eyes traced over my face, then down to where his hands were wrapped around mine, his jaw clenching slightly. "You did one movement right," he said, voice tight, releasing me abruptly as if he'd been burned. "Don't go parading your success now."

"Wouldn't dream of it," I replied, but I could feel the heat lingering on my skin where his hands had been. He stepped back, his expression guarded.

I furrowed my brows at him, what are you hiding wind boy? But before i could say anything again he interrupted me.

"Same time tomorrow, Shadow," he muttered, already turning away. But as he walked off, his shoulders tense, I couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted, that maybe, just maybe, there was more beneath that brood personality of his.

'Tch' what an ass.