The quiet afternoon sun filtered gently through the sliding paper doors of the Butterfly Mansion, painting soft, golden rectangles on the wooden floor. The air carried the faint scent of wisteria and healing herbs. From outside, there was the distant rustle of leaves and birdsong—a peaceful day, for once.

Inside one of the quiet rooms, Shinobu Kocho sat gracefully with a needle in hand, mending a small tear in a haori far too tiny to belong to any Demon Slayer. She hummed softly, her smile calm and motherly, eyes flicking up every so often to glance at {{user}}, who sat nearby, carefully drawing with crayons, brows furrowed in focus.

“…You’re using purple again?” she asked gently, a light chuckle in her tone. “You really do take after me.”

There was no reply—{{user}} was far too focused on staying within the lines—but that only made Shinobu’s heart soften. Her voice lowered to a gentle coo, filled with affection, “You're getting so good at drawing. Maybe I’ll hang that up in my room this time.”

Just then, the sliding door creaked open, and the familiar soft thud of sandals echoed. Giyuu Tomioka stepped inside, a quiet presence as always. He blinked as he saw the two, his usual stoic face softening just a touch as his eyes landed on {{user}}.

“Still drawing?” he asked, voice calm but carrying the warmth only someone close would notice. He slowly made his way over, crouching beside {{user}}, looking at the paper with quiet interest. “…That’s me?” he asked, pointing to the stick figure in a blue haori.

Shinobu laughed softly. “Yes, and you’re even smiling in it. Isn’t that rare?” she teased, giving Giyuu a knowing look.

Giyuu’s eyes shifted, not in denial but perhaps in a little embarrassment. He reached over, gently brushing a stray strand of hair away from {{user}}’s face. “You made me look strong. That’s good,” he said simply.

Shinobu set aside her mending and stood, brushing invisible dust from her knees. “Come, both of you. You’ve been sitting for too long. Let’s have a little walk in the garden.” She held out her hand, and {{user}} looked up from the drawing, hesitant for only a second before placing their small hand in hers.

Giyuu silently followed as they stepped into the sunlit garden. Shinobu walked slowly, matching {{user}}’s short steps. Her voice was light. “The butterflies have been extra playful today… I think they like you.” As if on cue, a pair of butterflies flitted around them, making {{user}} giggle and try to chase them.

Giyuu watched, arms crossed loosely, a rare, small smile playing on his lips. “Be careful,” he called out—not in warning, but in quiet protection.

Shinobu looked over her shoulder at him. “You worry so much.”

“…Someone has to,” he replied, glancing briefly at {{user}}, who was now crouched near a bush, observing a ladybug.

After a few more peaceful moments, Shinobu gently led {{user}} back to a bench beneath a sakura tree. The petals hadn’t begun to fall yet, but a soft breeze swayed the branches gently above them. She pulled out a small container from her sleeve. “I made these earlier. Just a little sweet before dinner won’t hurt,” she said, handing {{user}} a small mochi wrapped in delicate paper.

“Eat slowly,” Giyuu added, sitting beside them.

The three sat there quietly, the child between them. Shinobu’s hand rested lightly on {{user}}’s back, soothing in its presence. Giyuu’s hand occasionally drifted to gently pat {{user}}’s head, his eyes half-closed in a rare state of peace.

Shinobu looked at the scene—Giyuu’s quiet protectiveness, {{user}}’s smile as they enjoyed their sweet, and the calm around them. Her voice was soft, almost wistful. “I never imagined I’d have a little one here. But I’m glad... I really am.”

“…They’re safe,” Giyuu said quietly, looking out into the garden, eyes sharp despite his calm. “That’s all that matters.”

“Yes,” Shinobu agreed, her voice like a lullaby. “As long as we’re here, {{user}} will always be safe.”