𝑅𝑒𝓂𝑒𝓂𝒷𝑒𝓇 𝑀𝑒 [ ObaMitsu fanfic/ R-(MA)] Kimetsu No Yaiba

Chapter 62 - Soon

Sanemi and Kanae Room

The room was bathed in a dim, amber glow, the solitary lantern's light flickering softly against the walls, painting them with the remnants of their shared passion. Sanemi laid on the futon, the quilt draped loosely over his hips, teasingly hinting at the contours of his well-toned form. His right knee bent up, the other leg stretched out languidly, his body relaxed but still humming with the remnants of their connection. His breaths came slow and deep, the rise and fall of his chest betraying the intensity they had just shared.

He gazed at Kanae through heavy-lidded eyes, his lips curling into a subtle, almost boyish smile that spoke of both satisfaction and yearning. She was exquisite, her silhouette ethereal in the faint light. Her long hair tumbled over her bare shoulders, cascading in dark, silken waves that kissed the floor.

Kanae shifted, rising with grace that set his pulse racing anew. Every movement of hers seemed deliberate, a slow, sensual dance that left his throat dry and his heart pounding. Her naked body, bathed in the golden glow, was a vision he wanted to burn into his memory. His gaze followed her every motion, admiring the gentle curve of her back, the elegant arch of her neck, and the way her skin seemed to shimmer from her sweat.

She turned slightly, a coy smile playing on her lips, her eyes meeting his with a heat that reignited the embers smoldering within him. It was a look that wanted more, a silent dare that sent a shiver of anticipation coursing through him. Sanemi's fingers twitched against the quilt, aching to reach for her again, to pull her back into the intoxicating warmth of their embrace.

Kanae stood at the edge of the room, her hair damp and clinging softly to her shoulders, a reminder of their passionate sex. Her movements were fluid, almost hypnotic, as she adjusted the folds of her yukata with effortless grace. "I'm going to take a bath," she murmured, her voice as soft as the night breeze. She cast him a lingering glance, her lips curving into a gentle smile that made something tighten deep in Sanemi's chest.

Sanemi nodded, his gaze never leaving her as she turned to leave. The soft rustle of her yukata was the only sound in the room as she moved toward the door. Each step she took felt deliberate, every sway of her form captivating him anew. As she disappeared behind the door, her presence seemed to echo in the stillness she left behind.

He exhaled slowly, his back against the bed, the soft surface grounding him. His eyes drifted to the window, where the moonlight spilled gently through the bamboo blinds, painting delicate patterns on the floor. The silence wasn't empty—it carried a warmth, a sense of peace that wrapped around him like the afterglow of their time together. His fingers brushed idly against the edge of the futon, a faint smile playing at his lips as he realized he was already anticipating her return.

Sanemi's fingers brushed across the cool surface of his phone, the faint glow of the screen illuminating his face as he scrolled to Genya's contact. The thought of his younger brother tugged at something deep in his chest—equal parts protectiveness and worry. With their father's presence looming back home, he couldn't relax fully, not until he knew Genya was okay.

He sighed and pressed the call button, lifting the phone to his ear. The ringing was brief before Genya's familiar, slightly groggy voice came through.

"Yo." Genya's tone was rough, like he'd been dragged from sleep.

Sanemi couldn't resist smirking. "What's up, Genya? Why you sound like that? Caught you in the middle of something?" His teasing came easy, a habit that hid his deeper concern.

Genya groaned, the sound halfway between annoyance and amusement. "Nah, I was sleeping. What do you want? Thought you were on vacation."

Sanemi stretched, his gaze drifting toward the soft glow of the lantern in the room. "I am. Just making sure everything's good over there. That bastard giving you any trouble?"

The warmth of Genya's chuckle softened the tension in Sanemi's shoulders. "Nah. He's been quiet. Weirdly quiet. Got a call from work earlier, and since then he's been holed up in his office. I'm keeping an eye on him, though. Don't worry about it."

Sanemi let out a low exhale, relief settling into him like a slow tide. "Good. But if anything changes, you call me. Don't try to handle that prick on your own."

Genya's reply was steady but laced with fatigue. "I won't. I've got it under control."

Sanemi hesitated, catching the weariness in his brother's voice. "You sure, Genya? You don't sound like you've been sleeping much."

"I'm fine," Genya said, his tone softening. After a brief pause, he added, "Hey, did you... ask her yet?"

Sanemi froze, the question hitting with the weight of expectation and quiet encouragement. A small, almost bashful smile tugged at his lips as he glanced at the duffel bag resting in the corner of the room. Rising to his feet, he walked over, his heart pounding just a little harder as he unzipped it and revealed the small navy blue box nestled inside.

"Not yet," he admitted, his voice low but steady. His fingers traced the velvet surface of the box, the cool texture grounding him. "But soon."

Genya's silence on the other end felt approving, almost proud. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer than before. "About time. She's been waiting, you know."

Sanemi chuckled, his gaze fixed on the box, the weight of it feeling lighter than the promise it held. "I'll make it worth the wait."

"You better," Genya replied with a quiet laugh. "We all need some good news right about now. Get some rest, bro. Night."

"Night, Genya." Sanemi hung up, his smile lingering as he placed the box back in the bag and zipped it closed. He moved to the window, his gaze drifting to the snow-blanketed landscape outside. The world was still, the quiet serenity of the night wrapping around him.

As he turned his gaze back to the duffel bag, a sense of calm and determination settled in his chest. The time would come, and when it did, he'd make sure it was a moment worth remembering. Soon.

______

Genya Room

Genya ended the call, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he set the phone down. Hearing Sanemi's voice, steady and even happy for once, filled him with a fleeting sense of warmth. It had been so long since his brother sounded like he was finally moving forward, building a future, finding peace. For a brief moment, Genya allowed himself to feel that same hope, even if he knew it wasn't meant for him.

The dim light of the room felt suffocating as Genya walked over to the small lamp on his dresser and flicked it on. The soft glow illuminated the bruises marring his face, stark against his pale skin. He stared into the mirror, his reflection a haunting reminder of the lie he had just told Sanemi. Things weren't okay—far from it. Their father had spiraled deeper into madness, his job lost to suspension earlier that day. The rage that had followed had been relentless, culminating in a fight Genya barely escaped from.

And now, hours later, their father was gone, the house unnervingly silent in his absence. Genya didn't know where he was or when he'd come back, but the dread of his return sat heavy in his chest. He turned away from the mirror, his gaze falling to the floor where his younger siblings lay curled up in makeshift sleeping sacks. Their soft, even breaths filled the room, a fragile peace Genya worked desperately to maintain.

He moved to his bed, sinking onto the edge as the weight of it all pressed down on him. His hands trembled slightly as he pressed them against his thighs, trying to steady himself. His mind circled back to the plan—the desperate, risky plan to get their father arrested and out of their lives for good. It was the only solution he could see, but even now, with the bruises fresh and his siblings sleeping just feet away, doubt gnawed at him. Was it the right choice? Would it even work? Or would it just make everything worse?

The silence in the room was deafening, broken only by the occasional rustle of blankets or a soft sigh from one of the kids. Genya stared at the floor, his vision blurring as a single tear slid down his cheek. He swiped it away quickly, as though the act of crying itself would shatter the fragile strength he clung to.

Sanemi's happiness was the one thing that kept him going, the faint light in the darkness swallowing him whole. He couldn't tell him the truth—not yet. Sanemi deserved this moment, this peace. Genya would shoulder the burden a little longer, even if it broke him.