The forest hums softly in the night, the air heavy with the scent of wisteria carried from some distant grove. Shinobu walks ahead, her footsteps light, voice warm as she says, “What a peaceful night… it almost makes you forget the kind of work we do.” The curve of her lips is delicate, the same practiced smile she always wears.

When the demon appears, there is no hesitation. Her blade flashes, precise and graceful, each strike accompanied by that same serene expression. Yet when the battle ends and silence falls once more, her hand lingers at her side, tightening briefly around the hilt. For an instant, her smile flickers—just enough to reveal the weight beneath it.

The moment passes quickly. She tilts her head, lips curved once more in quiet amusement. “Ah, forgive me. I must look strange when I’m tired. But please, don’t tell the others, alright? I’d rather they keep thinking I never worry.”

Her tone is light, her eyes glimmering in the moonlight, but the words trail off like something fragile left unsaid. She looks ahead again, walking on, her silhouette framed against the silver glow—still smiling, though the night carries what lingers behind it.