The Shadow Hashira - Tengen X Reader X Sanemi

56

-Main girl POV-

Tengen and I strode together into the arena, steps perfectly in sync. He leaned over, placing a swift, warm kiss on my cheek—a fleeting moment that sent a hum of electricity through me. But the effect was anything but subtle. From across the arena, I saw Sanemi's face darken, his brows knitting into a glare that held all the bitterness of a storm. His body tensed, and I could almost feel the resentment rolling off him, jagged and unrestrained. Ignoring the sudden heat that rushed to my cheeks, I forced myself to turn away, meeting Sanemi's hard stare with as much composure as I could summon.

Before any words could be exchanged, Master's voice broke through the tension, cutting through the air with a commanding weight. "Now that we're all here, let's begin," he announced, surveying us. "Today's trial will be a duel. The first pair: Y/N and Tengen."

I stiffened, catching a glimpse of Tengen out of the corner of my eye. This wasn't what we'd expected. Beside me, Sanemi's jaw tightened, his mouth opening as if to protest, but Master raised a hand, his voice brooking no interruption. "No killing. Points for every successful hit."

As the signal sounded, the fight began. I took a steadying breath, sparing Sanemi one last glance as we squared off. The first clashes were clumsy, our timing off as we struggled to find each other's rhythm. Sanemi was rigid, his movements tense and mismatched with mine, clashing rather than flowing, our steps like two out-of-sync shadows. Words slipped out between gritted teeth and labored breaths, each barb sharper than the last.

"Maybe if you could keep up, we'd actually hit something," Sanemi grumbled, deflecting an incoming strike aimed at us.

"Right, because you're such a team player," I shot back, dodging and weaving to avoid the next strike, knowing he was close behind.

But slowly, almost imperceptibly, something shifted. Our movements began to mesh, each of us unconsciously adapting to the other. I parried high as he struck low, and in the briefest moments of silence, our steps fell into sync, a natural, unspoken understanding. And for the first time, we were a team—effortless and intense, our movements precise and instinctive. At one point, Sanemi's gaze met mine, a glint of reluctant respect flashing in his eyes as I intercepted an attack that had been headed his way. He even smirked, the slightest lift of his lips breaking through his usual scowl.

Then—unexpectedly—a strike from Tengen's partner landed squarely on my chest. The impact hit hard, knocking the breath from me as I was sent sprawling across the arena, a sharp pain radiating through my ribs. The air left my lungs in a ragged gasp, and the world blurred around the edges. I fought to focus, my vision swimming, but above me, I caught a glimpse of Master, his expression unreadable, poised as though he might call off the match.

But I met his eyes, holding his gaze, silently pleading with him to let me continue. After a long, tense pause, he nodded, sinking back into his seat.

Sanemi was at my side in an instant, his expression carved with an emotion I rarely saw—worry. Anger darkened his eyes, but beneath it, I caught a glimpse of something softer, something hesitant. "Idiot," he muttered, his hand hovering just above me as though he wasn't sure whether to reach out. "Why'd you take the hit? You could've—" His voice cracked, barely above a whisper.

I coughed, spitting a hint of blood, but I couldn't resist a smirk, weak as it was. "Maybe if you were faster, I wouldn't have had to," I rasped, the pain sharpening every word. Sanemi's expression hardened, but I caught the flash of frustration and relief in his gaze, a raw vulnerability he couldn't hide.

A few steps away, I saw Tengen's face, his jaw clenched as he watched us, concern etched into his usually relaxed features. His posture was tense, his gaze intense, a reflection of something he rarely allowed to show.

"Let's make this flashy," I murmured to Sanemi, loud enough for Tengen to hear. Tengen's lips quirked, a glint of pride flashing in his eyes. That's my girl.

Sanemi's grip tightened as he helped me up, his touch firm and steady. Together, we took our stances, setting aside our usual barbs. For the first time, I felt the solid presence of his support beside me, his movements swift and certain. He covered my blind spots, blocking attacks that would have broken my guard, and together, we fell into a rhythm I hadn't thought possible.

At one point, Sanemi took a direct hit, and something in me surged, an instinct to protect him that defied the tension between us. I covered him without thinking, countering the next strike with a precision that surprised even me. The match continued, and with each passing moment, our movements became one, our teamwork a blend of strength and unspoken trust.

Finally, the timer rang, signaling the end of the trial. We lost by a single point, but for the first time, I didn't care. I felt the thrill of something more valuable—a connection between us, a bond forged in the fire of battle.

As Master acknowledged us, I turned to leave, but Sanemi's hand shot out, gripping my arm. His gaze held mine, an unspoken question lingering in his eyes. For a heartbeat, I saw his resolve waver, his fingers twitching as if he wanted to say something, to reach across the silent distance that stretched between us.

But before he could speak, I pulled away, slipping out of his grasp. Whatever was left unsaid would remain so—for now. I felt his frustration trailing me, palpable even in silence.

I quickened my pace, but it was useless. Sanemi's footsteps followed, each one a demand that I couldn't ignore. He caught up, his grip on my arm firm as he spun me around, his expression a storm of conflicting emotions.

"What the hell was that?" His voice was low, laced with barely restrained anger. "You could have done a hundred things, but you took the hit. You could've been—" His voice cracked, the anger giving way to something raw. "Do you even understand how reckless that was?"

I met his eyes, refusing to back down. "Why do you care, Sanemi?" I snapped, my words sharp, laced with a bitterness I didn't mean. "You're the one always pushing me. 'Be stronger, Y/N.' 'Keep up, Y/N.' So don't act like it matters to you now."

For a moment, a flash of pain crossed his face, his fists clenching. "This wasn't about proving yourself—"

"Isn't it?" I stepped closer, my voice shaking. "All those times you made me keep up, all those times you told me to be better—now you care? Now, when I finally do what you wanted?"

The kiss we'd shared days ago hung between us, a silent weight pressing against my heart. I saw it in his eyes, too, a flicker of confusion and frustration, desire wrapped in anger. Whatever it was between us—anger, something deeper, something unnamed—had thrown us both off balance.

He opened his mouth, then hesitated, as though struggling to find words that refused to come. "This isn't—" His voice faltered, his gaze dropping for a second. "It wasn't supposed to be like this. You don't have to take it all on yourself. You don't have to—" His voice broke, raw and vulnerable in a way that twisted something deep in my chest.

Bitterness curled in me. "Now you say this?" I scoffed, stepping back, creating a distance I desperately needed. "Where was this when I was fighting for every inch with you? When you were testing me?"

For a split second, I thought he might reach out, bridge the distance that stretched painfully between us. But he stopped, his hand falling, his expression guarded, a reflection of everything I didn't want to feel.

"Y/N." Tengen's voice was a welcome reprieve, calm but commanding, slicing through the tension like a knife. He stepped forward, his gaze lingering on Sanemi before landing on me with steady reassurance.

I gave Sanemi one last look, a bitter edge to my gaze, before I turned, letting Tengen guide me away. I could feel Sanemi's stare on my back, his frustration trailing me like a shadow, a weight I couldn't shake.

As Tengen's hand settled on my shoulder, his warmth seeped through me, a steady presence that grounded me. But even as I walked away, I felt the unresolved fire lingering—a fire that burned for answers neither Sanemi nor I knew how to give.