𝘙𝘦𝘤𝘬𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴 || 𝙸.𝙾

Chapter 8

~Apology meal~

Over the next days, you'd tried countless times to apologize to him, but he refused to see you. Today, you'd finally decided to take a different approach. You asked Aoi to help you prepare a meal for him, hoping it might soften his stubborn resolve. 

Obanai had just returned from a solo mission a few hours ago and was being treated at the Butterfly Mansion. Aoi had reassured you that he wasn’t seriously injured, though he did have a few cuts and bruises along his arms. 

After finishing the meal, you packed it neatly into a container and made your way to his room. Your hands felt clammy as you knocked softly on the door. A muffled grunt from inside gave you the courage to push it open. 

He was sitting up in bed, staring out the window with a pensive expression. As you stepped inside, a warm smile graced your lips. 

“Ugh… just when I thought this day couldn’t get any worse,” he muttered under his breath, not even sparing you a glance. 

Your smile faltered slightly. “I brought you something to eat. I made it myself,” you said gently, walking toward him. 

“I’m not eating whatever you made. Who knows if you poisoned it,” he snapped, his gaze fixed stubbornly on the window. 

Kaburamaru, curled up on his shoulder, flicked his tongue in your direction as though sensing the tension. 

Your patience snapped. “Fine! Be a stubborn bitch and starve!” you shot back, slamming the food container onto the bedside table with more force than necessary. 

His head turned sharply, a flash of irritation crossing his face. “Watch your words, brat,” he hissed, finally looking at you. 

“Look, I’m trying to be nice and apologize here, but you—you’re so stubborn and rude!” you retorted, the words spilling out in a rush. 

He scoffed, his expression growing even colder. “Me? Stubborn? You’ve got to be kidding me. You were supposed to train with me, but instead, you went with Shinazugawa and never even showed up while I waited.” 

Your breath caught. So that’s what this was about. Your mind raced as his words sank in. Was he….jealous? You’d assumed he didn’t care, especially since he spent so much time with Mitsuri. But now, seeing the bitterness in his eyes, you realized you’d been wrong. 

“Oh… I didn’t know. I thought you didn’t want to see me after that day, so…” you trailed off, your voice softening. 

Before you could finish, Obanai reached out and gripped your wrist—not harshly, but enough to make you freeze. His fingers were warm against your skin. When you looked down at him, his mismatched eyes held a rare vulnerability. His cheeks turned faintly pink as he held your gaze. 

“Why would I be mad about that?” he asked quietly, his voice lacking its usual sharpness. 

Your heart melted at the sight of him like this. For a moment, the room seemed to hold its breath. When he finally released your wrist, you instinctively touched the spot, as though trying to preserve the lingering warmth. 

“I… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed things,” you murmured, your cheeks burning as you avoided his eyes. 

Obanai opened his mouth to say something, his expression softening further. “Do you want to e—” 

The door slammed open, cutting him off mid-sentence. 

“Iguro-san! I was so worried about you! I’m so glad you’re okay!” Mitsuri’s voice rang out, bright and cheerful as always. 

You flinched at the interruption, glancing back to see her practically glowing with relief as she hurried into the room. But her steps faltered when her gaze landed on you and the food box beside the bed. 

For a moment, the air was thick with unspoken tension. 

You forced a smile. “Kanroji-san, you can come in. I was just leaving.” 

Obanai’s eyes flicked between you and Mitsuri, his lips parting slightly as though to protest, but the words didn’t come. Instead, he watched silently as you turned and headed for the door. 

As you left the room, you didn’t look back—not even once. 

Obanai’s chest tightened as he watched your retreating figure. His fingers curled into the blanket, frustration and disappointment swirling within him. He’d been on the verge of inviting you to stay, to share the meal with him—especially since you’d already seen his face. But now, the moment was gone. 

Mitsuri, oblivious to the shift in his mood, took the seat you’d vacated. “Iguro-san, what’s this? Did *y/n* bring it?” she asked curiously, pointing to the food container. 

Obanai barely heard her. His gaze lingered on the door, his mind replaying the way you’d looked at him just before leaving. 

“Yeah,” he muttered absentmindedly, his voice unusually soft. 

“Then you should eat it! It smells delicious!” Mitsuri encouraged with a cheerful grin. 

But he didn’t move. The food sat untouched on the table as Kaburamaru slithered down from his shoulder and coiled himself near the container, almost as if waiting for his master to act. 

Obanai sighed, leaning back against the pillows. “Maybe later,” he mumbled, but his thoughts were elsewhere...fixated on the one who’d made the effort to bring it in the first place.