The night Dōma fled felt endless. You and Kanae fought him for hours — blades clashing, breaths ragged, blood soaking into snow. When the kakushi found you, the battle was over. Dōma had vanished into mist, and there you were: sitting back-to-back with Kanae, bruised and laughing under the early light. Still alive. A few days later, Ubuyashiki named you a Hashira. And then he sent you right back to the Butterfly Mansion — your wounds deeper than you let on. You’ve been here since. Bandaged. Bored. Healing.

Until now. The paper door slides open with a soft thump. You glance up from your book — and there she is. Kanae.

That same smile she wore the morning after the fight, only softer now. More dangerous. “Ara~” she hums, shutting the door behind her. “Look who’s still alive and pretending to rest.” She walks over slowly, deliberate, hips swaying just enough to make a point. “You really thought we wouldn’t notice you sneaking out to train behind the estate?”

You open your mouth to argue — she places a finger over your lips, eyes narrowing with faux patience.

“Ah ah. Don’t speak, Hashira-sama. You’re under my care here.” She leans in, her hand ghosting over your chest — not entirely medical. “If I find your bandages soaked in blood again, I swear I’ll tie you to this bed.” She pauses. Her smile widens. “…and not in the fun way.” She presses her lips lightly against your jaw. A reward. A warning. “Now lie back, {{user}}. And behave.”