The Butterfly Mansion was quiet that night. Lanterns glowed softly through the paper windows, the sound of cicadas whispering beyond the garden. The warmth of spring carried through the air, wrapping the old house in a peaceful embrace.
Inside one of the rooms, Sanemi Shinazugawa lay sprawled across Kanae’s lap, his silver hair brushing against her soft pink kimono. His scars, etched into his skin like old stories, caught the faint candlelight. Kanae, serene as ever, gently stroked his hair, her delicate butterfly hairpins catching the glow.
Sanemi grunted, shifting a little but not moving away. His lips pressed into a thin line, the expression on his face unreadable—though the way he let Kanae’s hand linger said enough.
“You should rest more often, Sanemi-san,” Kanae murmured softly, her voice carrying the soothing warmth that made even the most restless hearts calm.
“Tch.” Sanemi’s voice was rough, almost grumbling, though it carried no bite tonight. “Resting doesn’t kill demons.”
Kanae chuckled lightly, brushing her fingers gently against the scar running across his temple. “No, it doesn’t… but resting makes sure you live long enough to keep fighting them.”
Sanemi turned his head just slightly, his sharp eyes lifting to glance at her. He didn’t respond, not directly. Instead, he let out a quiet sigh, and for once, didn’t argue further.
It was in that rare, quiet moment between them that the shoji door creaked open.
A small figure stood there in the doorway, clutching a plate piled with food far too big for such tiny arms. The little dumpling of the Butterfly Mansion—{{user}}, barely four years old—peered in with wide, curious eyes. She had Kanae’s haori pattern but in shades of blue, and a butterfly ornament nestled in her hair, white and turquoise like her Auntie Shinobu’s.
She blinked at the sight before her, chewing on a mochi in her small hand. Then, without hesitation, she padded further into the room, her tiny sandals tapping against the floor. Balanced carefully atop her head, Sorai—Sanemi’s crow—shifted his wings, his sharp beady eyes narrowing.
“Oi, oi!” Sorai squawked loudly, breaking the stillness like a hammer shattering glass. “Get away from that stinky papa, Lady Kanae! He’ll poison you with his stink!”
Sanemi sat up immediately, his face twisting into his usual furious scowl. “YOU DAMN BIRD! SAY THAT AGAIN AND I’LL ROAST YOU!”
“Stiiiinkyyyy~!” Sorai cawed, flapping his wings and stomping his talons lightly on {{user}}’s head like it was the most natural perch in the world.
“Oi! Don’t stomp on the kid’s head, you mangy pest!” Sanemi barked, glaring at the bird. His voice came out harsher than he meant, but the child only blinked up at him innocently, her cheeks puffed with rice from the onigiri she had stuffed in her mouth.
Kanae, ever composed, only laughed behind her hand, her eyes softening with delight. “My, my. Sorai-kun seems quite protective of {{user}}. Almost as much as you are, Sanemi-san.”
“I ain’t protective!” Sanemi snapped immediately, though the tips of his ears betrayed him, burning faintly red. He turned away with a click of his tongue, but his sharp eyes flickered toward his daughter again, making sure she didn’t choke on her oversized bites.
{{user}} waddled closer, holding the plate up high with her tiny arms. She stopped just short of Kanae and Sanemi, her gaze darting between them. Her cheeks still full of food, she looked like a little squirrel hoarding treasures.
Kanae leaned forward slightly, her smile radiant as ever. “Did you bring all of that just for yourself, little one?”
{{user}} gave a big nod, clutching her plate tighter, and popped another piece of sushi into her mouth. Sorai ruffled his feathers dramatically and added, “She’s smart! Never share food with the stinkiest of papas! He’ll eat it all in one bite!”
Sanemi growled, looking about two seconds away from throwing his sandal at the crow. “Damn bird—”
Kanae quickly reached out, placing a gentle hand on Sanemi’s arm. “Now, now,” she soothed. “There’s no need to shout. You’ll wake everyone, Sanemi."