Chapter Text
The two were seated together at a small restaurant somewhat close to the Butterfly Mansion. As always, Obanai simply sat quietly as his lovely companion feasted on her sixth plate of pork cutlets, her bouncy demeanor unchanged. As she finished, she glanced over at him, seemingly nervous.
“There is something I wanted to ask you, Mr. Iguro,” the pink-haired woman admitted to the man, a bit uneasy. Why would she be uncomfortable? Obanai had to wonder: she was somebody he held an immense amount of compassion and admiration towards. Talking with her honestly just felt easy and right, and he truly hoped that she held the same sentiment when it came to him as well.
“I was wondering… if you would come meet my family for my birthday dinner.”
Many nervous thoughts ruminated through his mind as the raven-haired man contemplated his response. So he had been invited by the bubbly woman to a feast shared with her family, but his own hesitation had him within a cruel grip. What was a feast with a real family even like? Despite the fact that he was perfectly content to sit with Mitsuri while she happily ate, he wasn’t too certain on how he would fare in a group setting with her; especially with her own family. He was aware of the fact that her upbringing was nothing like his, so they most likely were good people… but the Serpent Hashira had his reservations.
However, the way she was looking at him now, with such warmth and sparkles glowing in her hopeful green eyes? He knew he couldn’t say no to her, no matter how much uncertainty he maintained about this entire situation. Maybe the dinner wouldn’t be such a bad idea, considering that if all went well, maybe he could be a part of her family too.
“I won’t miss it,” he promised her warmly, causing her to gasp and eagerly clap her hands.
“Really? Oh thank you, Mr. Iguro! I’m so excited!” She sang happily, her cheerful attitude dialed up even more; not that Obanai minded at all. Any amount of happiness that he was able to give her was good enough for him, especially considering the large degree of joy she brought to his life. He didn’t suspect she was aware of his fondness for her, but perhaps one day he would share.
—
A couple weeks later, Obanai tapped silently on the closed door, just after sunrise. Mitsuri had urged him to come early, so he had willingly obliged. In his other hand, he was holding onto a small white box; the Serpent Hashira loved giving her gifts and she always appeared to love receiving them. After all, she was never seen without the striped green stockings he had bought for her many months ago to go with her Hashira uniform. The only reason he’d acquired them for was because she had expressed being self-conscious about wearing it.
Sudden footsteps on the other side jolted Obanai from his thoughts.
“Mr. Iguro! You made it!” The tall woman beamed, wrapping her arms around him tightly. Obanai was initially caught off-guard, with Kaburamaru flicking his tongue as Mitsuri’s hands briefly touched his scales. Even so, it was evident that the Love Hashira was eager to see them both. Nervously lifting his arms up, Obanai wrapped them around her as well. They hugged for what almost felt like a peaceful eternity, but realistically, it was only a few minutes. Finally, Mitsuri broke the embrace since Obanai would never do so first. She gave him one of her cheeky grins and her eyelashes fluttered as she began to speak.
“Everybody is already here! I’ll introduce you to them!” Her happy voice hummed while she took him by his hand and dragged him inside without awaiting for his reply. The room was empty, but they proceeded to walk through it and another one opened up just ahead. In addition, there was a ton of light coming from it, as well as the delicious scent of pork cutlets and omurice. One of the many things that Obanai truly admired about Mitsuri was that with everything in life, even the more little things, she was able to find beauty in: including her favorite food!
The two entered the room where a small handful of people were seated, although the group was far smaller than he anticipated.
“Okay! Everybody, this is Mr. Iguro! Mr. Iguro, this is my Mom, my Dad, my little brother and my three sisters!”
Mitsuri’s father was the first to speak, offering Obanai a genuine smile; it quickly became apparent to him where Mitsuri had inherited here.
“Good to meet you! Mitsuri here has told us all about you!” He praised, getting up and gesturing to one of the cushions that were empty. “Here, you can sit next to Mitsuri. I’m sure that’s what you’re comfortable with,” he commented, although Obanai couldn’t deny that he felt extremely uncomfortable.
It wasn’t anybody’s fault, but he had grown up in an environment where love was conditional, as was basic human needs. Attending a family function like this was definitely not easy for him, but he wanted to push through because it was worth it. Mitsuri’s happiness was worth it. Plus, even though he was uneasy, he also felt the slightest bit of warmth from her family passing over to him. As the conversation went on - even though he didn’t have much to discuss at first - he felt like her family was accepting him for who he is… and perhaps who he desired to be.
“Your snake looks super cool!” Her brother piped up, pointing to Kaburamaru. “Can I pet him?”
Before Obanai had a chance to respond, her mother sharply spoke up.
“Minato! That’s not polite!”
“So Obanai, Mitsuri tells us you’re a Hashira too,” her mother commented after the boy started to pout, changing the subject.
“Yes,” he confirmed as her father began serving the food.
“I’ve heard it’s dangerous business,” mused the man. “Please take care of yourself and Mitsuri for us. Not that she needs it, but we’d feel much better knowing she’s protected.”
“I promise I’ll protect her,” Obanai reassures them, earning another big hug from the pink-haired companion seated next to him.
Although everybody else dug in and discussion continues, Obanai had chosen not to eat, not yet feeling secure enough to remove the bandages that covered his scarred mouth in front of others. Maybe he would feel safe to do so at some point, but today was not that day and he suspected that Mitsuri wouldn’t mind either. She was on her seventh plate or so, though the Serpent Hashira sensed that she was slowing down.
So he decided to make his move, grabbing the small box he had tucked away next to him throughout the entire lunch. He turned to her, offering it to her. Mitsuri blinked in surprise, although he couldn’t imagine why: he always brought her gifts, especially on her birthday.
“What’s in the box?”
“You’ll see,” was all he responded with. “Just take it.”
The lively woman took the box with enthusiasm, untying the pink bow and opening it. Immediately, she gasped, squealing in absolute delight as she pulled out a long silver necklace with a large rose-pink pendant hanging off the center. She leaned over, grabbing Obanai in another tight hug.
“It’s beautiful, Mr. Iguro, thank you!”
“Call me Obanai,” he murmured softly into her ear. “And if you happen to lose it, I’ll buy you another one.”