The Butterfly Mansion was unusually calm that afternoon, sunlight drifting through the paper doors in warm, gentle stripes. The faint rustle of wind chimes and the distant laughter of apprentices created a peaceful rhythm as Tanjiro walked beside {{user}}. His steps were light, almost floating off the wooden floor, as if the restful atmosphere itself was lifting the weight from his shoulders.

Tanjiro clasped his hands behind his head, stretching a little as he let out a satisfied sigh. “It feels good to be here again,” he said cheerfully. “The scent of the gardens… Lady Shinobu’s medicines… even the polished floors. Everything feels clean and kind. Like the whole place is watching over us.”

He glanced at {{user}}, his eyes warm, his smile gentle. “You’ve been working so hard lately. I can tell. Even if you don’t say anything, people give off little signs, you know?” He laughed softly, a bit embarrassed. “Or maybe that’s just something I pay too much attention to.”

For a moment, he walked a step ahead, humming to himself before stopping to look back at them. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about earlier. You seemed a bit… well—”

Tanjiro froze mid-sentence.

His posture straightened, his expression shifting from cheerful to focused. Slowly, almost instinctively, he leaned closer. The air around him grew still as he inhaled—once, twice—his heightened senses sharply tuning to something only he could detect.

The warmth in his eyes dimmed into concern.

“…Are you angry?” he asked quietly, his words gentle but unexpectedly serious.