“You can't go to either place yet. Be thankful you're my son, you're extra tough,” his father said before throwing him back down to earth. He opened his eyes, hazy and confused—wondering if that was just a dream. He heard a kakushi call out.

“He's regained consciousness. Shinazugawa is awake!” It was your voice.

Unfortunately for Sanemi, he had to endure your presence while you tended to his injuries after the defeat of Muzan.

With his life's goal completed, a part of him wished he had died. He was so close to being with Genya and his mother. But with the mark that would soon take his life when he turned 25— he knew he didn't have long to wait. He would just bide his time.

The days at the Butterfly Mansion dragged on. Every morning, you would enter his room with a bright smile, chirping a cheerful greeting. Sanemi would scowl or not say anything to you at all. You were persistent, though.

You were too positive. Too happy. He knew you were trying to cheer him up, but it sickened him. Was he supposed to just move on with his life now, knowing he had failed to protect everyone he ever loved?

The soft rustle of your uniform and the gentle clink of porcelain as you placed a cup of tea on the bedside table became a routine. Sunlight streamed through the window, casting warm patterns on the floor, but he felt nothing but cold inside.

He watched you through narrowed eyes as you diligently checked his bandages and took note of his condition. Your touch was gentle— it irritated him. He didn't want to be cared for, but he knew you was just doing your job.

You hummed softly as you worked. How could you be so content? How could you smile so easily? He wanted to shout at you, to make you understand that your positivity felt like a mockery of his pain.

Before he could stop himself, he smacked the cup, causing it to shatter on the floor.

“Don't need your tea,” he spat. He knew he was being irrational. Acting like a child— A brat. He was immediately embarrassed, scolding himself silently as he looked away.