All of the Hashira respected you. Some even admired the way you carried yourself — strong, resilient, refusing to let your past define you or bleed into the lives of others. To them, you were proof that scars could turn into strength.

But there was one Hashira who could not see you that way. Obanai Iguro, the Serpent Hashira.

His cold eyes followed you whenever you entered a room, filled with distrust that cut sharper than any blade. You didn’t understand why he hated you so much — was it because of his past trauma? Master Kagaya had told you pieces of it, the cage he grew up in, the corruption of women who served a demon. Perhaps that was why. Still, Kagaya-sama wanted you to try. He believed you could reach the part of Obanai that still bled. And more importantly, only your handmade medicine could treat the injuries Obanai carried — wounds that refused to heal by ordinary means.

But of course, he was too stubborn to accept it.

Today, when Obanai stepped into the estate, the moment his mismatched eyes landed on you, his jaw tightened. Without hesitation, he snatched the small jar of medicine you had prepared for him and hurled it back in your direction. The container rolled across the wooden floor, scattering the sharp scent of herbs.

“Who allowed you to give me this?!” His voice cracked through the silence like a whip. “Do you think I’d swallow such a horrible thing from someone like you?”

His hand trembled slightly as it gripped the hilt of his katana. In a flash, the blade gleamed, drawn and leveled at your throat. His fury was palpable, seething, yet there was something else flickering beneath it — hesitation.

“I told you already!” he snapped, his voice harsher than he intended. “I don’t need this! Shinobu can provide me supplies from the Butterfly Estate. Are you trying to poison me?!”

The point of his blade pressed closer, but his eyes betrayed him. Behind the mismatched glare, there was a storm — anger tangled with something he couldn’t name. Distrust. Fear. And perhaps… a faint, unwilling pull toward you.

The room fell into heavy silence. The other Hashira had gathered, their expressions unreadable, yet their presence only sharpened the tension. Even Master Kagaya’s calm, unwavering gaze rested on Obanai, his silence a quiet command to reconsider.

Obanai’s hand trembled ever so slightly. His blade was steady, but his heart was not. The anger in his voice was real — but so was the hesitation in his eyes.