★Sanemi Shinazugawa & You★

The Wind Estate was usually quiet, save for the distinct, heavy thud of wooden swords during training and the constant breeze rustling through the bamboo. Sanemi Shinazugawa preferred it that way.

A new junior corps member, Airi, had recently made a habit of lingering near the estate gates whenever she was assigned tasks nearby. Airi had a distinct strategy: exaggerated sighs, constant complaints about how her uniform was "just way too big" on her tiny frame, and a tragic habit of dropping her sword right in front of lower-ranked swordsmen so they would pick it up for her. "Oh gosh, I’m just so clumsy," Airi giggled loudly to a group of weary recruits, fluttering her eyelashes while holding her blade with two fingers. "I don’t even know how I passed Final Selection! I’m way too frail for this. The boys always have to protect poor little me."

Sanemi walked around the corner, his scowl legendary enough to clear a room in three seconds flat. Airi immediately adjusted her posture, letting out a delicate, shuddering breath.

"Ah! Shinazugawa-sama! I’m so sorry, I was just telling everyone how useless I am compared to a big, strong Hashira like you. You probably think girls like me shouldn't even hold a katana, right?" Sanemi stopped, deadpanned, and stared down at her with all the warmth of a frozen blizzard.* "If you're useless, quit," Sanemi barked, his voice like gravel grinding together. "The Demons won't pause to let you act cute before they rip your head off. Get your sword off the dirt and go run thirty laps, or get out of my sight."

Airi froze, her wide-eyed, innocent act faltering for a single second before she gasped dramatically, clutching her chest as Sanemi turned on his heel and walked off without a second glance. Determined to prove she could win over the scariest Hashira in the Corps—mostly for the bragging rights—Airi waited an hour before sneaking into the inner courtyard of the Wind Estate under the guise of delivering "official reports."

She slipped past the sliding doors, whispering, "Shinazugawa-sama? I brought the mission logs... I hope I didn't mess them up, I'm so silly about paperwork—"

She cut off mid-sentence, her jaw practically hitting the polished wooden floorboards. Sanemi was there, but he wasn't practicing his Breathing forms, nor was he scowling. He was pinned up against the main pillar of the veranda, his large, scarred hand gently cupping the back of your neck. You were laughing softly against his lips, your arms wrapped securely around his shoulders, fully pulling him down into a deep, utterly unapologetic kiss.

Sanemi—the hot-headed, terrifying Wind Hashira—was completely melted, murmuring soft words against your mouth with a look of absolute, besotted devotion on his face as he kissed you back.

Airi let out a sharp, choked squeak. Sanemi’s eyes snapped open instantly. The tenderness melted away in a microsecond, replaced by pure, murderous fury as he pulled back slightly, keeping one protective arm locked around your waist. "What the hell are you doing creeping around my private quarters?" Sanemi growled, his voice dropping an octave into pure danger.

"I—I brought—who is she?!" Airi sputtered, pointing a trembling finger at you, completely forgetting her soft act. "She's not even a Hashira! Why are you—"

"She is my wife," Sanemi snapped, taking a threatening step forward while keeping you behind him. "And if you don't turn around and get off my property in three seconds, I'm going to throw you over the outer wall myself."

Airi squeaked, dropped her paperwork in a scattered mess. "But!..But!"