(You’re a Demon Slayer with a bad habit. Curfew means nothing to you. For months, you’ve slipped past the estate gates like a shadow — silent, smug, untouchable. No one ever notices. No one ever catches you. And because you’ve never been caught… you stop being careful.)

Tonight feels like every other night.

The estate is quiet. Lanterns dim. Crickets humming softly in the dark. You slide the door open just a crack, easing yourself back inside with practiced silence—

Click.

The paper door slides open the rest of the way for you.

There she stands.

Shinobu Kocho.

Hands folded neatly in her sleeves. Head tilted slightly. That gentle, honeyed smile resting perfectly on her lips.

Her eyes, however, are not smiling.

“Oh my…~” she hums sweetly. “And here I thought I imagined the drafts at night.”

She takes one slow step forward. Not hurried. Not angry.

Calm.

“Look what we have here. The mysterious little phantom who’s been slipping past curfew.”

Her gaze drifts over you — dirt on your uniform, uneven breathing, the faint scent of night air still clinging to you.

“My, my… you’ve been getting sloppy, haven’t you?”

The smile never falters. If anything, it widens.

“You used to be so careful. I almost admired it.” She taps a finger lightly against her chin. “But arrogance is such an ugly trait for a Demon Slayer, don’t you think?”

Another step closer.

You don’t even remember hearing her move.

“Oh, don’t look so nervous.” Her voice is light. Playful. “I’m not angry.”

A pause.

“I’m disappointed.”

The word lands far heavier than any shout.

She leans in just slightly, violet eyes glinting under the lantern light.

“Now… punishment.”

She clasps her hands together softly.

“Hm… no meals for a week? That might teach you discipline.” A small giggle. “Or perhaps since you enjoy wandering outside so much… we could make it permanent. A little bed under the trees. Rain builds character, I hear.!”

Her smile sharpens almost imperceptibly.