j3nnt

[j3nnt]

Who's your favourite Hashira?

Mitsuri: "Iguro-san!"

Obanai: "!!!"

Drawing this truly made me appreciate all the KNY animators, bless them.

[j3nnt]

Pose referenced from jollyart

Tipsy Teases

The night air was cool as Ryo carried Alice down the quiet path back to the Nakiri estate. The Polar Star dorm had been lively with laughter, snacks, and an experimental sake tasting led by a third-year obsessed with fermentation science. Alice, ever curious, had accepted each small pour with her usual intrigue.

Ryo had been watching her the whole time, his eyes catching every flush of her cheeks, every glint of amusement in her eyes, every time she leaned a little too close when asking questions.

Now, she was nestled in his arms, light and soft, her laughter fading into contented hums as her head rested against his shoulder. The scent of her shampoo lingered—vanilla and something floral—and her breath was warm against his skin.

"Ryo..." she sang softly, voice barely above a whisper.

"Hmm?"

"You smell... so good..." she breathed, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. Her lips brushed lightly across his skin, then a few light kisses landed on his neck.

Ryo's jaw clenched, and he gripped her thighs a little tighter, adjusting his hold.

"Alice." His voice was low—gravel edged with tension.

She giggled, mischief in her sake-warmed voice. "Don't start something you can't finish?" she echoed, teasing the very words he hadn't even said yet but were clearly written across his face.

He looked down at her, her silver-blonde hair catching the moonlight, eyes sparkling like they'd caught the stars themselves.

"I never want to stop." she whispered, her words tender beneath their playfulness.

"Plus, we're officially dating now. Or did you forget?" Alice pouted.

Something in Ryo shifted. His steps quickened.

Alice smirked. "Are we in a hurry, Mr. Kurokiba?"

Story courtesy of ChatGPT.

[j3nnt]

Happy Father's Day

The click of the front door echoed faintly as Alice slipped inside, the night’s chill trailing briefly behind her. She exhaled slowly, loosening the collar of her coat and letting the warmth of the house settle around her shoulders. It was unusually quiet. No thundering feet. No excited “Mama!” No off-key singing coming from the living room or toys skittering across the hardwood floor.

She blinked.

“Hmm… I wonder what they’re doing?” she thought, already unbuttoning her coat and draping it over the back of a chair.

She’d warned them she’d be home late tonight—meetings at Nakiri International had run long, and though she hated missing bedtime, she was grateful Ryo was home with the girls. Always steady, dependable… hers.

The house smelled faintly of roasted vegetables and something sweet—maybe the girls had helped with dessert again? She padded into the kitchen, already smiling, but paused when she saw the scene before her.

The counters were a battlefield.

Plates were stacked in the sink, a half-empty pot of something sat cooling on the stove, and a puddle of what looked suspiciously like chocolate sauce smeared across one side of the table. A fork clung to the edge like a fallen soldier.

Alice pressed her hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh. “Well, at least they tried to clean.”

A little crumb trail led out of the kitchen like a map, one she followed with amused curiosity through the dim hallway. As she neared the girls’ room, a soft amber glow spilled from beneath the door. She reached for the handle but didn’t need to turn it—the door was already cracked open.

She gently nudged it wider… and her heart melted on the spot.

There they were.

Ryo had clearly tried to put the girls to bed but hadn’t made it through the battle. He was sprawled awkwardly across their tiny twin bed. His shirt was rumpled, his bandana tucked safely on his wrist, and his chest rose and fell in a slow, even rhythm. Sound asleep.

Ella was curled around his head like a tiny lion cub, her fingers tangled in his hair, cheek smooshed against the top of his head. Kairi was nestled tightly in his arms, gripping his forearm with both little hand like he was her anchor in a dream.

None of them stirred.

The nightlight bathed them in a soft, golden hue, and for a moment Alice didn’t move. She just stood there, her bag still on her shoulder, eyes filling with quiet warmth. The chaos of the day melted away.

These were her people. Her heartbeat.

She slowly knelt beside the bed, brushing a bit of hair from Ryo’s face. He looked tired, of course, but peaceful too. Strong. Present.

Alice leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his forehead, her lips barely brushing his skin.

“You’re the greatest dad,” she whispered.

Ryo stirred faintly, his brow twitching. He didn’t wake, but his arms tightened protectively around Kairi as if he knew she was watching.

She smiled, her throat thick with affection.

Careful not to wake them, Alice stood and set her bag aside. She took one last look—Ella drooling slightly on Ryo’s hair, Kairi nestled like a kitten, and Ryo surrounded by his daughters like some sort of gentle, exhausted hero.

Story courtesy of ChatGPT.

[j3nnt]

Favourites

It was the sort of afternoon that only happened once or twice a season—when the cherry blossoms dusted the courtyard like powdered sugar and even the most high-strung students paused to breathe a little.

Alice had finished her class early and wandered outside, idly kicking pebbles in her path. She had that distracted look she always wore when something was on her mind.

She spotted him right away—Ryo—standing under the sakura tree near the eastern garden wall, away from the usual traffic. His head tilted back against the bark of the tree, eyes half-closed.

Alice smiled, quiet and fond.

She crossed the grass without saying anything and stood beside him, close enough that their shoulders brushed. He looked over at her with a blink, not surprised—he never was when it came to her—but aware.

“You look tired,” she said, voice softer than usual.

“Didn’t sleep much,” he replied, and didn’t offer more. He rarely did.

Alice leaned her head back against the tree beside him and tilted her face toward the sun. “We graduate in six months,” she mused aloud. “Can you believe that?”

Ryo made a low sound of acknowledgment.

“I still remember when you showed up at the gate with that scowl and your hair like an angry sea urchin.” She glanced sideways. “You didn’t talk to anyone. Just stood behind me like a storm cloud.”

“You liked it,” Ryo said quietly.

“I did,” she admitted, her smile widening. “I still do.”

There was a beat of silence between them, light and full of something unspoken.

And then, without warning, Alice shifted and threw her arms around him. Her hug was quick and sudden but full, firm, not just friendly.

Ryo stiffened for a second, startled. He’d been hugged before—by her, sure—but not like this. Not out of nowhere, not with such quiet sincerity.

“You’re my favourite,” she murmured, her words warm against his chest.

Ryo blinked slowly, stunned. His arms didn’t move at first, but after a second, one settled around her waist.

His heart was loud. Not wild. Just loud. As if it were trying to tell him something.

He didn’t say anything flashy. He didn’t need to.

He just smiled, a rare, soft curve of his lips—something no one else ever really got to see.

“I know,” he said quietly.

And in that moment—under the cherry blossoms, surrounded by food dreams and maybe a little love still figuring itself out—Alice rested against him with a small, knowing smile.

She didn’t need to say more.

And he didn’t need to ask what she meant.

Story courtesy of ChatGPT

[j3nnt]

Meant to Be

The sun hung just high enough to warm the cobblestone paths threading through the heart of the city—an old quarter near the harbor, where time slowed and the world felt more breathable. Ryo and Alice strolled side by side, steps leisurely, the ocean breeze carrying the faint scent of brine and fresh bread. They had just finished lunch—a modest affair at a tucked-away seafood bistro where Ryo knew the chef and Alice, ever elegant, had made the entire staff blush with her compliments.

She walked with one hand tucked into the crook of his arm. Her platinum hair shimmered in the light, her tailored dress neat despite the wind. Ryo, in a dark shirt with the sleeves rolled up, his red bandana tied snug around his left wrist, looked relaxed, content… and unbothered by the curious glances they drew.

“You’re unusually quiet,” Alice said with a knowing smirk, glancing sideways at him.

Ryo shrugged, red eyes scanning ahead. “I’m enjoying the peace. I don’t get to see you like this much.”

Alice’s expression softened. “Same. Feels like we’re always running between meetings and oceans.”

They turned a corner, stepping onto a quieter street framed by tiny shops and balconies full of flowers. That’s when the little old woman passed by them—her shawl fluttering slightly with her every step. She slowed as she approached, giving them a careful look.

“You two…” she said, voice like soft linen, “look like you were meant for each other.”

Alice blinked, then gave a warm smile. “Thank you, ma’am.”

Ryo dipped his head in acknowledgment, not used to such overt remarks from strangers. The woman simply nodded, satisfied, and continued hobbling along at her own rhythm.

They watched her go for a moment in silence.

“…That was sweet,” Alice said quietly, her voice laced with something more.

Ryo glanced down at her. “She’s right though.”

That made her stop. “Hmm?”

He looked at her more directly now, eyes serious but not heavy. “We were meant for each other.”

Alice blinked, cheeks flushing, but not with surprise. With fondness. “That was dangerously romantic, Ryo.”

“Don’t tell anyone,” he muttered, and she laughed.

They kept walking, but this time she reached for his hand fully, lacing their fingers together. He didn’t hesitate to hold on.

“Still,” Alice said thoughtfully, “I hope when we’re that age, we’re just like her. Wise… a little meddling… and still recognizing what love looks like.”

Ryo smirked. “I plan to still be dragging you out for walks like this. Bandana and all.”

Alice squeezed his hand. “I’ll hold you to that, Mr. Kurokiba.”

And in that quiet corner of the city, away from headlines, kitchens, and research vessels, they simply walked. Together. As they always had.

Set when they are 26, they've been married for a year. Alice is running Nakiri International, and Ryo is the head of the Marine Research Department.

Story courtesy of ChatGPT.

[j3nnt]

A Moment

The test kitchen at Tōtsuki was quiet — the hum of the overhead lights, the soft bubbling of a stockpot on the back burner, and the occasional clatter of utensils. Alice had claimed one of the larger stations for herself, meticulously crafting a new emulsion she'd been dreaming about all week.

She was completely in her zone until—

"Ouch," she winced, pulling back sharply from a small pot on her left burner. The hot water had splashed her hand when she went to stir a reduction.

Across the kitchen, Ryo Kurokiba’s head snapped up like a wolf catching a strange sound in the woods. He was already halfway to her before she even looked up.

“Let me see,” he said curtly, already reaching for her hand.

Alice blinked. “Ryo, it’s fine. Just a splash—barely anything.”

He didn’t answer right away. He took her left hand gently but firmly, inspecting it with careful fingers. It was slightly red, nothing severe. But his eyes narrowed anyway. When she made a move to pull away, he didn’t let go. Instead, he stepped in closer, his right arm coming around her to catch her other hand.

“I’m not done making sure you’re okay,” he said plainly.

Alice stilled in his arms, cheeks flushing. She could feel the quiet strength in his grip, the way his breath tickled the edge of her fingers. And for once, her usual teasing bravado faltered.

“Y–yeah, okay,” she mumbled, trying to hold back a nervous laugh.

There was a strange stillness between them. Familiar, but different. The kitchen felt warmer now, not from the burners, but from the nearness. From the way neither of them moved.

“I told you not to rush when the water’s heating,” Ryo muttered, voice low.

Alice grinned softly, eyes flicking to him. “And I told you not to act like my bodyguard every time I hiccup.”

Ryo smirked, not loosening his hold. “Not happening.”

The reduction on the burner bubbled quietly, but neither moved for a moment longer — her hands still in his, his arms still around her, something unspoken crackling softly between them like the gas flame beneath the pot.

Finally, Alice broke the tension with a gentle nudge. “You gonna let me finish cooking, or are we having a moment?”

Ryo grunted but stepped back slowly, his eyes lingering just a little longer on her hands before releasing her. “If you burn yourself again, I’m confiscating your knives.”

Alice scoffed, turning back to her station, but her smile didn’t fade.

Behind her, Ryo returned to his own counter — but now, he watched her from the corner of his eye, just in case.

Story courtesy of ChatGPT.

[j3nnt]

Never Without

Age 30 — Married Life, Early Morning, Denmark

The light outside the window was soft, barely stretching over the horizon, casting a pale golden hue over the white curtains and worn wooden floors of their shared bedroom in Denmark.

The scent of the sea clung faintly to the breeze drifting through the slightly cracked window. The world was still quiet.

But in their room, between tangled sheets and the hush of morning, two figures shifted.

Alice blinked awake slowly, her silver-blonde hair tousled wildly across her pillow, a few strands stuck across her cheek. She yawned and turned slightly—just in time to see a familiar mess of dark hair beside her. Ryo was already awake, but just barely, his red eyes heavy with sleep, half-lidded as he looked at her.

“Morning,” she mumbled, voice scratchy, a hand sneaking under the covers to find his.

His fingers curled around hers naturally. “Morning.”

They always said it. No matter how tired. No matter how early.

Alice nestled closer into his side. Ryo didn’t protest. He never did. Instead, he turned his head and leaned in, brushing a soft, unhurried kiss against her lips. The kind that lingered. That said, I love you, I’m here, this is ours—without needing the words.

Alice’s heart fluttered at the quiet affection, even now. Even after all these years. She smiled against his mouth, then pulled away just enough to whisper, “You taste like sleep.”

He huffed a laugh.

She grinned.

Ryo shifted, pulling her in gently, brushing his nose against her temple. “You heading out today?”

Alice nodded into his shoulder. “Train leaves at ten. Conference in Oslo. I’ll be back tomorrow night.”

Ryo exhaled slowly. She felt it against her skin. “I’ll make sure there’s something warm waiting when you get back.”

“You always do.”

He sat up slowly, brushing a hand through his messy hair—a quiet signal that his day was beginning.

Alice propped herself up on one elbow, watching him with a familiar fondness. “Be careful at the market. And don’t let that fishmonger talk you into buying another whole octopus. We still have the last one in the freezer.”

“He was persistent,” Ryo muttered. “And it was on sale.”

She snorted, then leaned in, fingers catching the edge of his bandana just as he finished tying it. “Wait.”

He turned slightly. “What?”

“You forgot something,” she said softly, tugging him close.

He didn’t resist. Their lips met again, slower this time, more awake, more certain. A kiss that knew its place in the rhythm of their life.

When they finally pulled apart, neither of them moved immediately. The moment held, like they didn’t quite want to let go of it yet.

“Don’t miss me too much,” Alice whispered playfully.

Ryo smirked faintly. “Just enough.”

They never skipped their good mornings.

They never missed the start of them.

Not even on the busiest days. Especially not then.

Story courtesy of ChatGPT

[j3nnt]

Gotcha

The estate was unusually quiet that afternoon. The hum of cicadas outside buzzed softly through the paper walls, and sunlight cast gentle, slanted patterns across the polished floors as Ryo made his way through the west wing.

He’d already checked the garden. No Alice. Not the kitchen either, which was rare. She hadn’t texted him, and though he would never say it aloud, something always felt… off when she wasn’t nearby. He’d grown used to that light chaos she carried—used to the sound of her voice coloring the silence.

So, naturally, he sought her out. Not for any particular reason. Just to see what she was up to.

Alice’s bedroom door was slightly ajar, enough to catch the soft swish of fabric and the light tapping of feet against the floor.

He pushed the door a little further open and stepped inside without announcing himself, as had become their usual routine years ago. Boundaries blurred early on when you grew up like they did.

But Ryo stopped mid-step, the door sliding shut behind him with a click.

Alice stood by her mirror in the middle of trying on a new bikini—purple with floral accents that made her platinum hair look even brighter than usual. Her back was half turned, one hand brushing her hair over her shoulder. She hadn’t noticed him yet.

Ryo froze. His eyes widened before he quickly looked away, like he'd been caught doing something wrong—even if technically, he was the one who got ambushed here.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen her in swimwear before. But this time... it felt different. She was seventeen now. They both were. And somehow, without warning, Alice had become more than just the girl he grew up with. His mouth went dry.

“Oh—Ryo!” Alice turned with a bright smile when she finally saw him, utterly unbothered. She stepped forward a little, hands on her hips. “What do you think of this one? Be honest.”

He kept his eyes somewhere near her shoulder—absolutely not letting them wander. “It’s… nice,” he said. His voice cracked slightly, betraying him.

Alice tilted her head, smile curling playfully. She recognized the faint pink tint climbing his ears, the stiff posture, the subtle twitch in his jaw as he refused to look directly at her.

Ryo Kurokiba—utterly composed in a food war, unflinching under pressure, and absolutely short-circuiting because she asked about a bikini.

She couldn’t resist.

“Oh? Just nice?” she teased, stepping closer, watching him freeze even more. “You’re usually so opinionated about colors and fit. Has the heat finally melted your brain?”

He swallowed. “I… I just didn’t expect—”

“What, that I’d be wearing a swimsuit in my own room? In the summer?” she teased, hands behind her back now as she leaned forward. “You’re cute when you get flustered.”

He turned his head slightly, half-glancing at her and then immediately away again. “I’m not flustered.”

“Mhm,” she hummed, absolutely delighted now.

“I came to see if you wanted to cook something. Or swim. Not for this,” he muttered.

“Good,” she said sweetly, “because I was just about to come find you.”

“…Like that?”

Alice grinned. “Exactly like this.”

Ryo groaned quietly and muttered something about needing cold water, making Alice laugh as she finally threw on a cover-up—though she made a point of letting the tease linger just a little longer.

Somewhere between the kitchen and the garden, the tension faded back into ease, but that flustered flush on Ryo’s ears stuck around longer than either of them would admit.

And Alice? She’d count this as a personal victory.

Story courtesy of ChatGPT.

[j3nnt]

Surprise

It was late afternoon at the Nakiri estate, and the golden sunlight poured lazily through the tall windows, casting long slants of warmth across the floor. The house was quiet—Leonora and Soe were out for a meeting, and most of the staff had retreated to the far wing. Alice wandered the halls barefoot, a notebook pressed to her chest as she made her way to Ryo's room.

She was looking for him—not for anything particularly urgent, just bored and in the mood to bother him. Maybe drag him into helping her test some new ideas. Something involving scallops and foam. Or maybe just to argue about nothing, the way they always did when she got restless and he got stubborn.

The door to his room was slightly ajar.

She nudged it open without a second thought.

“Ryo—hey, do you wanna—”

Her words died instantly in her throat.

There he was—standing by the window with his back to her, shirtless, clearly fresh from a shower. His hair was still damp, and the sunlight glinted off the droplets on his shoulders as if someone had painted them on with gold.

His chest was broad, all muscle and lean strength from years of cooking, lifting crates, and more. He reached for a clean shirt on the dresser —

But not before turning slightly.

Alice stood frozen at the doorway, caught somewhere between horror and awe, her mouth parted, eyes locked onto the sight like she’d stumbled upon a piece of forbidden art.

Ryo paused mid-motion. His red eyes flicked over to her, taking in the wild grin she tried and failed to suppress, the furious blush on her cheeks, and the way she clutched her notebook like a lifeline.

“…You good?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Alice opened her mouth. Nothing came out.

She cleared her throat. “Y-yeah. Totally fine. Very normal. Absolutely nothing out of the ordinary happening here.”

Ryo blinked. Then—very slowly—he smirked. “You walked in without knocking again, didn’t you?”

She tried to recover, covering her face with her notebook. “I thought you were decent!”

“I am. Was,” he said, sliding the shirt over his head, but not before smirking a bit more at her flustered state. “You’ve seen me shirtless before.”

“Not like that!” she squeaked, and then immediately regretted it.

“Like what?” he asked innocently, tugging the hem down, stepping closer.

Alice took one step back. “I—nothing! Never mind! I’m going to the kitchen now to definitely not think about this!”

She turned on her heel, half-speed walking, half-running out of the room, the sound of Ryo’s quiet laughter following her all the way down the hall.

Once she was out of sight, she leaned against the wall, fanning her cheeks with her notebook.

“He did that on purpose,” she whispered to herself. “He definitely did that on purpose.”

And back in his room, Ryo ran a towel through his hair, grinning faintly to himself.

She’d walked in on him without warning for years. But now… she was blushing.

And maybe—just maybe—he didn’t mind.

Story courtesy of ChatGPT.

[j3nnt]

Introductions

[j3nnt]

The First of Many

The garden behind the Nakiri estate was peaceful that afternoon, the kind of quiet reserved for lazy summer days and soft, rustling breezes. Sunlight filtered down through the trees, dappling the stone tiles and tall grass, while the scent of rosemary and citrus wafted from the herb beds.

Alice had danced through the edge of the garden with a mischievous grin. She had spotted a cluster of sunflowers growing tall and bright against the garden wall and decided, without any explanation, that they were exactly what the afternoon needed.

“Hold still,” she’d said, already threading one of the golden blooms through Ryo’s messy hair, just above his left ear.

Ryo blinked up at her. “What are you doing?”

“Making you look less like a grumpy hermit and more like someone who belongs in a garden,” Alice replied primly, reaching up to adjust the flower.

He muttered something under his breath—something about her being ridiculous—but he didn’t stop her. When she turned back around, she slipped a smaller sunflower behind her own ear too.

They sat cross-legged on a wide blanket beneath a lemon tree. Alice’s lavender sundress was immaculately pressed despite the grass stains slowly creeping up from her knees. Eyes narrowed in fierce concentration on a book.

Beside her, Ryo was hunched over a much smaller but no less dense manual on fish butchering. His dark red eyes scanned an illustrated page of mackerel anatomy, one finger lightly tracing along the lateral line diagram. His hair was a tousled mess, the way it always was.

A small bowl of salted chips sat between them, forgotten in the heat of their academic interest—until Alice reached for one and casually held it up to Ryo’s mouth.

“Eat,” she said, not looking away from her book.

Ryo blinked, then glanced at her. “What?”

“You haven’t eaten anything since we got out here. And you scowled at the chef at lunch.”

He opened his mouth with a sigh, letting her feed him the chip. “It was overcooked.”

Alice shrugged as though that proved her point. “Still.”

A soft crunch passed between them as he chewed. She popped a chip in her own mouth, satisfied, then resumed annotating her page with a pink pencil.

A rustle on the gravel path signaled someone approaching. One of the house staff—an older woman with short gray hair and a linen apron—approached carefully, holding a cream-colored envelope with a gold Nakiri seal.

“Forgive me, young Miss, but this arrived by courier.”

Alice perked up immediately, taking the letter with careful hands. Ryo watched silently as she slit it open with the corner of her pencil and unfolded it. Her red eyes danced across the page, widening slowly.

A beat passed.

Then, without warning, she turned the letter toward Ryo with a beaming smile. “Look! I won an award. For my flavor pairing thesis!”

Ryo stared at the letter for a second, unimpressed.

Then he scoffed, eyes returning to his fish book. “Took them long enough.”

Alice blinked, then laughed softly—not at him, but with something warmer in her chest. That was just Ryo’s way. She had long since stopped needing flowery compliments from him; it was in the way he checked her seasoning, or stood behind her when people got too loud. This? This was his brand of care.

“Thanks, Ryo,” she murmured, folding the letter carefully and tucking it beside her book.

He didn’t look up, but one corner of his mouth twitched into something that wasn’t quite a smile—but close.

She leaned sideways just slightly, their shoulders brushing as they returned to their books.

Little did Alice know that this letter—this simple piece of parchment—was only the beginning.

The first of many awards. The first of many afternoons like this. And the first of many, many chips she would feed the boy beside her.

They're nine year old babies in this story.

Story courtesy of ChatGPT.

[j3nnt]

Lovee you

We love a soft Ryo.

[j3nnt]

Spicy times with Ryo and Alice

Original pose reference from jollyart

[j3nnt]

Growth Spurt

[j3nnt]

Our Dance

The ballroom of Totsuki Academy shimmered with soft golden light, laughter and music drifting through the air like champagne bubbles. Graduation night had arrived—a grand celebration marking the end of an era.

Alice Nakiri stood near the edge of the dance floor, her crimson eyes sweeping the room. Her dress, sleek and elegant, caught the light with every small movement. She wore a gentle smile, but her heart raced with the weight of memories and everything this night meant.

Then she felt it—his presence before she saw him.

Ryo Kurokiba, in a sharp navy suit and a lavender-coloured tie (that just so happened to match her dress), approached silently, the faintest smirk playing at his lips. His unruly hair was slightly tamed for the occasion, but his eyes held the same fire she’d always known.

Without a word, he stopped in front of her, his expression softer than usual.

He bowed slightly.

Then, taking her hand gently, he lifted it to his lips and kissed her hand.

“Alice,” he said, his voice low and steady, “would you dance with me?”

Her heart skipped—then sprinted.

Her cheeks flushed as a smile bloomed across her face, wide and impossibly warm. “Of course,” she breathed. “You didn’t even have to ask.”

He led her to the center of the floor, and in that moment, surrounded by their peers, mentors, and the glittering future ahead—they danced. Just the two of them, like always.

Story from ChatGPT

[j3nnt]

Made with Love

[j3nnt]

Dance