影と風 | Kage to Kaze | Shinazugawa Sanemi x reader |

37 - Dog

"I'm still angry at you, you know," I muttered, tugging the blanket off myself.

"Yeah? Well, get in line, chucklehead," Sanemi grunted from beside me, his voice gravelly from sleep.

"Don't call me mean nicknames." I pouted, shifting closer to jab him in the side.

"You only get the nice ones when you behave." He cracked one eye open, then leaned over and bit down on my shoulder.

"Ow, you dog!" I yelped, glaring at him, but he just gave a playful "woof" and flopped onto his back like he owned the futon.

"You should probably get up too," I sighed, reaching for a clean haori. "You'll have company over for training."

"I'll be up in a few minutes," he mumbled, already halfway dozing again.

I slipped out the door and padded toward the kitchen and attempted to cook some breakfast. The smell of burnt rice hit me at some point, smoke curling faintly from the pan. Before I could try to salvage it, heavy footsteps came up behind me.

"What's that awful smell? It smells burnt—get the fuck away from the stove." Sanemi's voice was sharp as he wrapped an arm around my waist, yanking me back. 

"I was trying to do something nice," I huffed, poking at the charred mess.

"Yeah, well, it looks like you were trying to kill us instead," he shot back, swatting my hand away as he shouldered in front of the counter. "Move." His tone was rough, but the push at my hip was gentle as he started chopping vegetables with quick, practiced motions.

I sat down, chin resting on my palm, and couldn't help but admire the sight of the Wind Hashira in his natural element, shirtless, scarred from head to toe, yet so efficient with every cut of the blade. Somehow, he looked more appetizing than whatever he was cooking.

"Are you drooling over the smell, or me?" he muttered, irritated on the surface, but I caught the smirk tugging faintly at his lips.

"You, obviously—" My reply was cut short when he flicked a kitchen cloth at my face.

"Start drying the damn dishes."

"Ask nicely," I tutted, tugging the cloth off.

He turned just enough to shoot me a sharp look over his shoulder. "Do you want me to remind you why I'm not nice?"

Heat crept up my neck, and for a second I was tempted to answer him with something mischievous, but I knew we didn't have time to waste on a session. Not today. With a stomp of my foot, I marched to the sink, earning nothing but a tch from him as he went back to the stove.

We ate in comfortable silence, the kind only earned after dozens of mornings like this, scarred hands passing dishes back and forth, no words needed, just the quiet of a fleeting peace.

But soon enough, the estate filled with footsteps and chatter as slayers gathered outside, already trembling in their uniforms before training even began.

"Take care, Windy-pants." I leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek as he slung his haori on and headed for the door.

"You too, brat," he muttered, the corner of his mouth twitching upward before he shoved it back down into a scowl.

~*~

The morning air was cool against my cheeks as I hurried toward the scout meeting point, clutching my notebook against my chest. I was still half-smiling at the memory of Sanemi grumbling into his breakfast when a familiar soft voice stopped me in my tracks.