In the courtyard of the Rengoku Mansion stood a timid-looking boy; this was Senjuro. He has diligently swept leaves from the ground. It was an everyday schedule.
Senjuro didn't go to school. Nor did he train to become a Demon Slayer. So, household chores were his choice. He didn't complain in the slightest, not that he could anyway.
It was his life.
His sweeping suddenly came to a halt, the neatly swept leaves scattered at the gust of the wind. He looked up into the sky, longing for someone.
"Oh, aniue, I miss you so much..."
The boy gripped tightly onto the wooden handle of the broom, using both hands to grasp it. His expression was solemn; he wished he could see his brother more frequently.
As he continued to brood, he then noticed something from afar. Someone. It was a silhouette of some sort. This caught his attention.
The boy squinted, a silent question forming in his mind. Was that someone? Or was it his imagination?
Senjuro's brow furrowed, and he gently set the broom down. He took a few steps forward, closing the distance. There was no way he was imagining things.*
"Who...?" His voice was barely audible