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The Pillars didn’t get together often. There wasn’t a lot of time for them to lounge around or spend time outside of their assigned regions. Sanemi wasn’t on poor terms with the other Pillars, but he didn’t like leaving his region behind. Although demons were mostly unaware of it, his region contained a surprising amount of people with Marechi blood. Due to the nature of that blood, more demons were drawn to the region than others, so he had to be especially careful when leaving.
All in all, it meant that his time spent away made him restless and unable to relax. Even traveling outside of his borders caused him to get antsy, which meant that he was harsh on any demon he crossed. He wasn’t kind to them by any means, but he could probably be accused of overkill in those cases. By the time he arrived at the mansion, he wanted nothing more than return, but some of these Pillar meetings could last up to a week.
Who knew how many demons entered his region while he was here?
The easiest way to combat his restlessness was to channel it into something more productive. Being around the other Pillars could come in handy with that. It wasn’t often that he was able to fight with people who were on par with him (and maybe even stronger in Himejima’s case). A lot of the demons he faced were below him. Some were incredibly strong, of course, but unless he was fighting one of the Demon Moons, he considered himself a step above them.
Sanemi wanted a fight - he wanted a distraction - which was probably what led him to suggest the Pillars have an arm-wrestling match, as dumb as it sounded.
By now, it had kind of become a tradition of sorts. They all knew that Hinejima was going to win, although Uzui gave him a run for his money if his wives were there cheering him on. Kocho and Tokito fought over last place, which usually depended on how distracted Tokito was that day. However, there had been one time when Kocho was secretly in a foul mood and ended up beating Tokito and Iguro. No one messed with her that day even if she was smiling the whole time.
The real battle was the middle ground. Third place was the spot most vied for, if only because it was the one that changed the most. Sanemi had the most third place wins, but Rengoku was both determined and optimistic as hell. Tomioka won once, and Sanemi still hadn’t forgiven him. He didn’t know what had inspired the idiot to suddenly be stronger than all of them, but he’d come in third and then promptly stood up and walked away with a word because Sanemi could jump him.
And then there was Mitsuri. Sweet, loving, adorable Mitsuri with those godsent thighs and killer arms.
He really enjoyed seeing her beat the boys, but he didn’t like losing either, which was why Sanemi glared at her across the table. Mitsuri smiled back at him cheerily, but he wasn’t about to let that distract him. The blush in her cheeks didn’t draw his attention nor the happy glow of her eyes. She could talk through the entire match, and he wouldn’t even notice. He wouldn’t . The only thing he cared about right now was beating her and winning. Maybe he could even one-up Uzui.
A wide, cruel grin spread across Sanemi’s face. “You ready to go down, Kanroji?”
Mitsuri pressed her hands together. “I hope so! You’re very strong, Shinazugawa!”
Sanemi choked on a grunt. Why did she have to be so nice? Granted, it was a part of what made her stand out so much, but it made it a lot harder on him to be, well, mean. He had to psych himself up in order to win. Sweet and shy as she was sometimes, Mitsuri was not to be underestimated. He had seen her take down men twice her size and demons over quadruple. It didn’t matter. Behind those blushing cheeks and all that hair twirling was a Pillar who could get shit done.
He leaned forward and propped his elbow on the table, Mitsuri mirroring his actions. They grasped each other’s hands firmly, staring into one another’s eyes. Sanemi made sure to keep his gaze heated and sharp, but that pretty light never left her eyes. She didn’t get angry or determined or fierce. She was the Love Pillar, and all that he could see - all that he could feel - was that warmth pouring from her. His hand was sweatier than he would’ve liked for the match, but it was a hot day and the room was stifling after all the competition.
Beside their table, Uzui folded his arms across his chest. “You know the rules.”
“Yeah, yeah, let’s get on with this,” Sanemi growled.
“I’m good,” Mitsuri confirmed pleasantly.
Sanemi raised an eyebrow. “You sure about that?”
Mitsuri tilted her head curiously. “Are you?”
And damn if that didn’t trip him up somehow. He shook his head and forced himself to focus. Get his head in the game. Prepare himself. He turned his gaze onto their hands and thought of nothing but that. He would win. He was going to win. He would definitely beat her. Nothing could stop him. Those not familiar with the Pillars wouldn’t have been able to understand his fierce determination, but he knew her worth. Mitsuri was strong as hell.
“Don’t break his hand, dear!” Kocho called out sweetly, like the little shit she was.
Alarm flashed across Mitsuri’s face. “Oh, I won’t do that.”
“Don’t you dare go easy on me and let me win,” Sanemi snarled.
“I would never do that either,” Mitsuri insisted.
How long had they been holding hands? Sanemi’s eyes flickered to Uzui, who was wearing a knowing grin, and he glowered. He was not in the fucking mood to deal with Uzui’s shit right now. Just because the man was ridiculous enough to have three damn wives did not make him the guru on relationships. He was going to beat Mitsuri and then literally kick Uzui’s ass if he didn’t start the match soon.
“And begin!”
Their arms immediately tightened as they fought for dominance. Mitsuri went from sweet and innocent to kick ass in a second flat, giving him a fucking run for his money. Their arms and hands trembled as they both fought to push the other hand down, but for half a minute, nothing happened, the two of them stuck in a stalemate of strength.
“You’ve got this, Sanemi!” Rengoku declared.
Kocho smiled sharply. “Does he? Mitsuri’s form looks very nice.”
“What are we doing here again?” Tokito asked.
“Truly a splendid display of raw strength!” Himejami exclaimed.
Iguro sneered behind his mask, his eyes glittering. “Shinazugawa doesn’t stand a chance.”
Tomioka predictably said nothing from his spot in the corner of the room by himself. As the referee of the match, Uzui kept his thoughts to himself as well, even though he was prone to making his opinions known, and carefully watched them battle to ensure neither one of them cheated. They wouldn’t. If she came close, she’d get upset and forfeit, and Sanemi would rather lose outright to Kocho than cheat.
Slowly but surely, he started to push Mitsuri’s hand down toward the table. He grit his teeth, the vein in his temple practically popping out, and pushed as hard as he could. A look of dismay crossed Mitsuri’s face as she tried to push back on him. Nope. He had the leverage now. It was much easier to use his weight and muscle to push down on her hand than it was for her to push up. He grinned savagely, not caring what it made him look like, and put everything he had into slamming her hand on the table.
And then Mitsuri furrowed her brow and twisted her lips into a pout, and she fucking pushed his hand into the original position.
Sanemi’s mouth opened. “What the-?”
“I asked,” Mitsuri grunted, “if you were sure.”
Their arms trembled even more as they fought. He could feel her strength nearly double as she pushed on hin his hand. It was incredible, but not when faced against him. He couldn’t lose. Her face turned bright red and she clenched her jaw right before she gave an incredibly powerful push and slammed his hand against the table in one go without a single moment of hesitation.
Uzui threw up a hand. “Mitsuri wins in the most flamboyant style!”
Mitsuri let go of his hand and jumped up, clapping her hands together excitedly. “Yay!”
Sanemi remained sitting and stared at Mitsuri’s empty chair.
She...beat him. She beat him. He knew she was strong. He knew, without a doubt, that she was the strongest woman he would ever meet. No one else could compare to her. She could kill an entire buffet without missing a beat, take out multiple demons on her own, and he once saw her roundhouse kick a demon through two buildings - but she’d never beaten him before. She had come close, but she had never outright won.
And this win couldn’t be any clearer. She’d demolished him.
A presence at his side drew his attention away from the chair. Sanemi slowly turned and looked up to find Mitsuri standing in front of him. He sometimes forgot how short she was, even though she admittedly wasn’t that much shorter than him. She was small though, all those curves excluded. His gaze threatened to drop, but he kept it firmly on her face, lest he wanted to commit seppuku to avoid humiliation.
“It was a really good match,” Mitsuri told him. “I thought you had me beat!”
“No, you…” Sanemi swallowed the lump in his throat and his pride. “You beat me fair and square.”
Mitsuri fiddled with her hands. “I won’t beat Uzui and Himejami though. They’re too strong!”
“After the move you just pulled with me?” Sanemi pushed his chair away from the table and stood up. She tilted her head back so she could continue looking him in the eyes. She was so close, close enough for him to touch, close enough for him to cup her cheek, bend down, and kiss her. Close enough for him to push her away and keep his distance. He didn’t need any distractions. “Crush them.”
Innocent giggles tumbled from her. “You’re so bold.”
“As are you,” Sanemi told her.
“Only when I’m fighting,” Mitsuri sighed. He couldn’t understand why that was the case. She was a Pillar, for fuck’s sake. She hadn’t gotten here because she was weak. The world might’ve wanted her that way, but there was no hiding that kind of strength. It was remarkable. It was what the world needed. (It was what he wanted.) She beamed. “Thank you for the encouragement, Shinazugawa!”
Sanemi scoffed and waved a hand. “Just don’t lose pathetically after beating me or I’ll feel worse.”
Mitsuri bowed slightly. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
Neither would he. Sanemi turned away so none of the other Pillars could see the faint, upward quirk of his lips. Neither would he.