The Shadow Hashira - Tengen X Reader X Sanemi

53

The morning air was crisp as I made my way to the training grounds, my thoughts a tangled mess of uncertainty and guilt. Tengen's words echoed in my mind, his quiet disappointment cutting deeper than I'd expected. Every step felt heavier than the last, each one carrying me further from the moment I'd just left behind but closer to something I couldn't quite define. Something I wasn't sure I wanted to understand.

Why am i doing this? What the fuck am i doing? I don't deserve Tengen...fuck but I-

I spotted Sanemi waiting on the edge of the grounds, his arms crossed as he leaned against a tree, the ever-present scowl on his face. He was watching me approach, his gaze hard and unwavering, and something about that familiar intensity sparked a strange sense of stability in me—a grounding force in the chaos of my thoughts. I tried to shake off the lingering ache in my chest as I reached him, straightening my shoulders and forcing a mask of calm.

"Took you long enough," he muttered, though his tone lacked the usual bite. His gaze lingered on me for a second longer than necessary, as if he were trying to read whatever emotion was etched on my face.

"Good morning to you too, Wind Boy," I shot back, hoping the nickname would mask my own tension. He rolled his eyes, but a small smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"Let's just get this over with," he grumbled, pushing off the tree and stepping closer. He eyed me critically, his gaze roaming over me as if assessing my stance, my focus—or maybe something else. I couldn't be sure.

We started with drills, slipping into a rhythm that we'd developed over the past weeks, each movement precise and familiar. But my mind wandered, fragments of my conversation with Tengen drifting through my thoughts, clouding my focus. I stumbled slightly on a step, and Sanemi's grip caught me, his hand firmly on my arm as he steadied me.

"What the hell's wrong with you today?" he demanded, his voice harsh but his touch steady, grounding. He was close, closer than I'd realized, his hand still on my arm, his gaze sharp as it held mine.

"Nothing," I snapped, pulling my arm from his grip, though the heat from his touch lingered on my skin. "Just... had a rough morning."

"Rough morning, my ass," he muttered, his tone softer than usual. His eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at me, a flicker of something like concern crossing his face before he masked it with his usual scowl.

We continued, each movement sharp, each strike filled with a quiet intensity that seemed to heighten with each passing second. Sanemi didn't comment again, though his gaze stayed on me, his focus intense, unwavering. I could feel his eyes on me as I moved, his scrutiny igniting a strange heat that pulsed through me, distracting me more than I wanted to admit.

Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. I threw down my weapon, frustration bubbling to the surface. "Alright, what is it, huh? You've been staring holes into me all morning."

He crossed his arms, his expression shifting from irritation to something darker, something more intense. "You're distracted," he said simply, his tone unyielding. "Whatever it is, figure it out before you get us both killed."

I glared at him, unwilling to let him see the uncertainty simmering beneath my skin. "Since when do you care if I'm distracted?"

He stepped closer, his gaze locked onto mine with a fierce determination. "I don't," he replied, though there was a hint of something in his voice, something he tried to hide. "But if we're training together, I don't need you messing things up because your head's somewhere else."

I clenched my fists, my frustration building as his words echoed in my mind. He didn't care—that much was obvious. But his eyes told a different story, the intensity in his gaze betraying his words, leaving me confused and unsteady.

"Fine," I shot back, my voice low, defiant. "But if I'm going to stay focused, maybe you should stop staring at me like that."

Sanemi's gaze narrowed, a flicker of anger crossing his face. "Staring at you? Don't flatter yourself, shadow."

"Then stop looking at me like I'm some damn distraction," I countered, the tension between us thickening with each word. I could feel my heart racing, the heat of anger mixing with something else, something I couldn't deny.

He scoffed, but his gaze lingered, his eyes tracing over me as if he couldn't help himself. "Maybe if you actually paid attention, I wouldn't have to keep you in check."

The anger flared in me, and before I knew it, I stepped closer, closing the distance between us until we were nearly chest-to-chest. "I don't need you to keep me in check, asshole. I can handle myself just fine."

His expression softened, just slightly, and he tilted his head, a dangerous smirk playing on his lips. "Prove it, then."

"Stop saying that." The words hung between us, heavy, daring, as his gaze dropped to my mouth, lingering there for just a heartbeat too long. I felt my pulse quicken, my breath catching in my throat as the tension between us shifted, turned into something more charged, more intense.

The silence stretched, each second feeling like an eternity as we stood there, the space between us dwindling. My gaze flicked to his lips, and I could feel the unspoken pull, the electric charge that buzzed in the air, pulling us closer.

I didn't know who moved first, but suddenly our breaths were mingling, our lips brushing in the faintest, most hesitant touch. The sensation was like a spark, igniting something deep within me, something I couldn't ignore. My hand twitched, fingers brushing against his arm as the world faded, leaving only the quiet, consuming warmth of his presence.

But just as quickly, I pulled back, my heart racing, my mind spinning with the weight of the moment. Sanemi's expression was unreadable, his eyes dark as they held mine, the smirk gone, replaced by something raw, something real.

We stood there, silent, the weight of our almost-kiss lingering between us like a promise—one neither of us was ready to make. I began turning my head in the other direction but-

In an instant, Sanemi's restraint snapped, and he closed the remaining distance between us, his hand slipping to the back of my neck as he pulled me to him. His lips crashed against mine, all hesitation and tension gone, replaced by an intense, raw need that seemed to ignite every nerve in my body.

The world disappeared, our surroundings blurring as his mouth claimed mine, fierce and unrelenting. I pressed into him, matching his intensity, my fingers tangling in his hair as the heat between us grew, fierce and consuming. His grip tightened on me, his other hand finding my waist, grounding me and yet making me feel weightless, like I was on the edge of something dangerously exhilarating.

My mind spun, unable to process anything but the feel of him—the roughness, the intensity, the raw, electric connection that buzzed between us. The anger, the rivalry, the tension, all of it melted into the kiss, transforming into something fierce, something undeniable.

Finally, we broke apart, breathless, his forehead pressing against mine as he tried to catch his breath, his eyes still closed as if trying to keep a hold on the moment. He didn't release me, his hands still firm on my waist and neck, his fingers brushing my skin, igniting small fires everywhere they touched.

"Damn it, Y/N," he muttered, his voice rough, almost as if he were angry at himself for letting this happen. "You...you make it impossible."

I let out a shaky breath, my fingers still curled in his hair, unable to let go. "Impossible?" I echoed, my voice barely a whisper, still reeling from the intensity of it all.

He opened his eyes, their fierce gaze softening just slightly, and in that moment, I saw something unguarded, something vulnerable. "You drive me insane," he murmured, his thumb brushing gently against my jaw. "I hate it..."

I swallowed, the weight of his words settling over me, pulling me further into this strange, consuming connection between us. I was equally captivated and terrified, feeling as though we'd crossed a line that we couldn't simply step back from.

But as his fingers traced gentle circles on my waist, as his breath mingled with mine, I realized I didn't want to step back. The anger, the rivalry—it all made sense now. And I wasn't ready to let go.

Without a word, I closed the gap again, pulling him back into the kiss, pouring all the confusion, the frustration, and the undeniable pull I felt toward him into it.