Maki and Nemuri remained transfixed as the vehicle dissolved into the distance, eventually vanishing from their line of sight. Nemuri tilted her head back, her gaze climbing upward to study his silhouette. He was still captivated by the horizon, his expression unreadable.
"Shouldn't we head back, baby?" Nemuri asked softly.
Maki looked down at her and offered a slow, deliberate nod. He bent low, encircling her waist with his powerful arms and hoisting her effortlessly. Nemuri yielded to his strength, her hands lacing behind his neck. He adjusted his grip, elevating her until they were eye-to-eye; she sat perched upon his arm like a precious child. Nemuri didn't merely tolerate the gesture—she absolutely adored it.
Carrying his prize, Maki paced toward the elevator. Nemuri began peppering his cheeks with affectionate pecks, her lips lingering against his skin as if she were savoring something sweet and rare. Maki pressed the button for the penthouse, and the doors slid shut with a hushed hiss.
When the chime signaled the VIP floor, Maki stepped out into the hallway, still cradling Nemuri. She was now trailing her tongue along the side of his face. "Mmm... truly tasteful," she whispered.
Maki reached the closed door of the suite and manipulated the handle with his free hand. Stepping inside, he shed his outdoor footwear for indoor slippers before tenderly removing Nemuri's shoes as well. He navigated to the living room and sank into the plush sofa, allowing Nemuri to settle firmly onto his lap. His arm remained anchored around her waist to steady her balance.
Feeling her tongue resume its playful exploration of his face, Maki asked in a low rumble, "Am I a candy now?"
Nemuri paused, a small smile playing on her lips. "Yup. You're a sweet, sweet candy." She tightened her embrace, her frame shaking with a light chuckle. Maki pulled her closer, his own arms tightening in a silent, fierce reciprocation.
As Nemuri held him, her mind raced through the day's revelations. The Anomalies Language he commanded, the strange resonance that had vibrated in her ears, and that impossible talent for conjuring food—the thoughts were relentless. Despite her desire to cast them aside, a gnawing worry for him took root in her heart. Her grip intensified as the weight of her unspoken fears pressed down on her.
"Maki, I love you," she breathed into his ear.
"Thank you...," Maki whispered back. His voice was a fragile thread, nearly breaking as he added, "Please, bear with me." It was a raw plea, a desperate request for her not to abandon him. Nemuri could feel the slight tremor in his chest as he spoke.
"Like hell would I do that," she replied with a teasing edge, though her eyes were devoid of playfulness, brimming instead with ironclad resolve.
"Thank you," he muttered, resting his heavy head upon her shoulder.
"Really, still fretting over such things?" Nemuri murmured. "After everything we've done, you're still dwelling on such nonsense." Maki didn't offer a rebuttal; he simply stayed silent, seeking sanctuary in the crook of her neck. Nemuri shook her head at his stubborn vulnerability and whispered, "Come on, baby, let's sleep together."
Maki lifted his head, meeting her gaze before pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. He stood up, carrying her into the master bedroom where he laid her down upon the bed with meticulous care.
"How gallant," Nemuri smiled.
He slid into the space beside her. They tangled together in a close embrace, ignoring the blankets in favor of the warmth of their own skin. In that shared peace, they finally drifted into a deep, synchronized slumber.
While they slept, the car carrying Shizune and Tsunade sped through the night. Tsunade was busy dialing a number for Isaac, transmitting the second audio file she had surreptitiously recorded. Shizune's eyes were glued to the pavement, but her thoughts were anchored to the man they had left behind.
Tsunade was lost in a labyrinth of strategy, considering her discoveries and, most importantly, her mother's inevitable reaction.
"Tsunade-sama," Shizune's voice cut through the silence. "Is he truly the one who wielded that wood ability we saw earlier?"
Shizune had been searching for a reason behind Tsunade's erratic behavior, and this seemed the only logical conclusion.
"Yes, he's the one," Tsunade confirmed.
"Isn't that exactly what you've been searching for?" Shizune asked, bewildered. "Why leave the clan now, especially after finding someone like him?"
Tsunade stared out at the blurred landscape. "Because this is different. He is different."
Shizune couldn't quite grasp the distinction, so she lapsed into silence, wondering how the matriarch of the Senju clan would react to this news. The car raced toward the storm, toward the ancestral home of the Senju—a clan built by legends, known for its immeasurable authority and as the dwelling of Hashirama Senju, the First Hokage.
What would the world do if the last of the bloodline abandoned the clan? And how would the nations react if they discovered that a seemingly ordinary man possessed the legendary power of the First?
Only time would tell. For now, he was sound asleep, cradled in the arms of his woman—his lover, his anchor, his everything.
AM N. NOT.(っ－＿－)っ♤♤DRAFT♤♤