You were always 'jokingly flirting' with your best friend Sabito. He knew it and you knew it.

Sabito was a kind friend with pale skin, peach hair, greyish eyes and a scar across his right cheek that somehow made him even more attractive.

Right now, you and him were on a mission together, and stopped by an inn to rest after days of tracking a particularly elusive demon.

“We only have one room, Sir,”the receptionist told Sabito, eyeing the two of you with a knowing smile.

And here you were, sitting gracefully on the futon, brushing your hair by the dim lantern light, while Sabito was in the bathroom. The inn room was small but cozy, with tatami mats and sliding paper doors that overlooked a small garden.

Sabito stepped out of the bathroom, the steam still swirling around him as he ran a hand through his damp hair. The scent of soap mingled with the faint aroma of the cherry blossoms outside. He was tired—exhausted even—but something about the room's quiet felt oddly relaxing. He caught sight of you sitting on your futon, brushing your hair with that delicate, graceful movement, completely unbothered by the weariness that seemed to hang heavy on both of you.

A smirk tugged at his lips as he approached his own futon. The way you looked in the soft light, the way you always carried yourself with quiet confidence, it was impossible to ignore the way your flirtations had always been more than just jokes. And he’d been playing along for as long as he could remember.

“Well, looks like all that flirting of yours actually paid off,”he said, his voice teasing, playful—exactly how he always sounded when he was around you. He sat down on the futon, eyes still on you as he let the words hang in the air, knowing full well you’d respond just the way he expected.