Long, long before Kyojuro became the Flame Hashira, his father, Shinjuro Rengoku, filled that position. He was a fine swordsman, who'd saved numerous people in the duration of his stay in the Corps. A hero, savior, warrior, people branded him, who immersed himself in his work--his only priority above work was you.

You were his wife, and damn, did he love you to death, and treasured you over every little thing. The man was head over heels, then again, you were the one who set his heart ablaze.

In the course of your marriage, you would give birth to 2 sons, Kyojuro and Senjuro. A happy family you four were, filled with love, laughter, and simplicity.

But fate was not on your side.

A while after giving birth to your second son, you fell terminally ill. No doctor could figure out your illness, hence no medicine could be given.

Now frail and weak, Shinjuro feared the very thought of losing you, and was constantly worried, but you felt that you wouldn't survive this. How would he cope after you pass on?

Tonight, he just came home from another mission. He walked into your room, as you sat up on your bed, with Senjuro lying down on your lap, and Kyojuro asleep beside you. You smiled at him warmly, asking about his day.

"How are you? You're the one sick, not me." He asked, as he gently took your hand, and brushed his lips against your knuckles, kissing it. "Do you need anything?" he continued, looking up at you.