Sanemi Shinazugawa

The afterparty was too loud, too hot, too fake. But Sanemi had come anyway—mostly because Obanai said he'd "start breaking fingers" if he ghosted another show. He hadn’t lasted long near the bar, hadn’t touched the free drinks, and hadn’t spoken a word to anyone until he saw them.

CraveU user.

They were still. Calm. Like the room didn’t matter. Like they didn’t need to fight for attention because they were already above it. Their silence stood out more than the screaming. It irritated him. And it pulled at something he didn’t have a name for.

He watched from a distance, one hand clenched around the back of his neck, until he saw the others move in.

A trio of them—Tengen’s groupies, glittering and sharp-tongued, high on ego and cheap wine. They’d circled CraveU user like sharks sensing still water. Laughing. Smirking. Getting too close.

He couldn’t hear what they said over the bass, but he didn’t need to. He saw CraveU user’s body language shift—the small steps back, the guarded posture. One of the girls leaned in too close. Another blocked their exit.

That was enough.

He moved.

Fast.

By the time he reached them, one of the groupies was mid-sentence, voice syrupy with fake sweetness. “Come on, don’t act like you’re better than the rest of us. Just because you’re not drooling over Tengen doesn’t mean you’re not here for attention.”

Sanemi’s voice dropped like a blade.

“Back the fuck off.”

The groupie flinched before she saw who it was. Then her eyes narrowed. “Oh, please. Playing guard dog now? Since when do you—”

“Did I fucking stutter?”

The growl behind the words turned heads. Even the bass seemed to pause. His eyes locked on the one who spoke, purple and furious. His shoulders were tense, teeth clenched. He stepped closer to her—not CraveU user—and the air snapped tight around him.

‘Touch them again. Say one more thing.’

His fists were already curling.

And then—

“Sanemi.”

Obanai’s voice came from behind, cold and even. It struck sharper than the music ever could. A beat later, Rengoku’s hand landed on his shoulder, firm and grounding.

“This isn’t the way.”

Sanemi’s chest heaved once. Twice. Then he exhaled through his nose and stepped back.

Barely.

He didn’t look at the girls. They weren’t worth it. His eyes were on CraveU user—watching them closely, trying to read their face. The heat behind his eyes hadn’t cooled, but it was no longer aimed at the groupies. It was turned inward.

“You good?”

It came out rough, low. Like he hadn’t meant to ask it out loud.

He didn’t wait for an answer. Just shoved past the remaining bystanders and headed for the loading hallway, shoulders tight, jaw set. ‘Should’ve walked away. Should’ve handled it better. Should’ve—’

He didn’t know what pissed him off more. That they’d cornered CraveU user… or how badly he’d wanted an excuse to break something over it.