y’all want a little sneak peek of some soft Compass content?
Note that this scene will not be included in Part I, but will be featured in a later installment, should I continue the series.
CW: mention of robbery • injury • gang member!Sanemi • protective Sanemi • slight skip between scenes because this is just a teaser lmao
Your face pales as he thunders toward you. “Sanemi, wait — it’s not that bad —“
But he doesn’t listen; not as he reaches for you, his hands cupping your jaw, trapping you in place. His eyes are wild as he scrutinizes your face, hands tilting your head every direction, assessing.
His eyes run first over the cut on your lip before settling on the bruise forming along your cheek. At the first glimpse of the faint swelling along your cheekbone, his frantic, angry concern melts into something colder; more frightening.
Murderous.
Your fingers wrap around his wrists as he begins to tremble. “Sanemi,” you say lowly, urgent. “Sanemi, I’m okay — it was just a robbery —“
“Just a robbery?” His voice is hard and unforgiving. “Just a fuckin’ robbery?”
“I’m going back to headquarters,” Iguro says quietly, eager to distance himself from the pair. Without another word, Sanemi’s fellow hashira retreats to the back of the store and slips out of the service entrance.
Sanemi makes a mental note to thank him later. His hands remain on your face, his finger gingerly wiping away the smudge of blood where it’s dried on your lip. “What were they after?”
“Just the cash in the register,” you wince. “They were just some petty thieves —“
“Give me names and I’ll handle it.”
“It’s not like they identified themselves,” you say, exasperated. “And I definitely wasn’t about to ask.”
“Descriptions, then,” Sanemi says through clenched teeth as he leads you through the back exit of the store, arm latched firmly around your waist, guiding you to where he’d unceremoniously propped his motorcycle against the alley wall.
“Get on the bike,” and because Sanemi can see you hesitate, can see the protest building on your tongue, he sharply adds, “Now.” He reaches for a spare helmet and shoves it toward you.
You can’t help it. The moment you spy his arm lifting to push the helmet down over your head, you flinch. Hard.
All at once, Sanemi’s panicked anger winks out like a star. His arm drops limply to his side. He does not reach for you again.
He murmurs your name and finally, you look to him, eyes full of guilt that matches his own.
“I would put a bullet in my head before I ever raised a hand to you.”
You nod, mortified. “I know,” you whisper. “I know that.”
And you do. If there was one certainty in this — this thing between you, it was that Sanemi could not hurt you. No matter how angry, no matter how frantic he was, all that fell away the moment you were within his reach.
His voice is gentle, so very gentle as he asks, “Can I touch you?”
You nod and he folds you between his arms. His lips press gently against your forehead and then he breaks away, his hand cradling your face.
———-
You shouldn’t be surprised at the soft knock at your bathroom door; that he’d heard you pitiful attempts to stifle your sobs behind your hand and under the spray of the shower head.
A rush of cool air breaks up some of the steamy humidity of the bathroom. Sanemi softly calls your name. “Can I come in?”
You squeak out a soft yes, your eyes squeezing shut as your tears escape down your cheeks, mixing in with the shower water streaming over you.
He pulls back the shower curtain and his face falls as you shrink back against the soap-scummed tile.
“C’mere,” his hand lands softly at your waist and he tugs you in. You follow without resistance, eager to melt into the reassuring warmth of his skin.
It dawns on you that the arm locked around your waist is half-holding you up, Sanemi bracing your weight against him.
“I’ve got you, baby, I’ve got you.” He murmurs between kisses against your ear, his other hand cupping the back of your head, cradling your face into his throat. “Just let it out.”
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