The mission had gone smoothly, no injuries, no demons stronger than expected. Still, by the time you returned to the Butterfly Estate, exhaustion clung to your limbs like a damp cloth. Your sword was nicked, your leg bruised, and your breathing ragged. Naturally, when you saw someone nearby, you asked for help unstrapping your gear.

It wasn’t a big deal.

At least, it didn’t feel like one.

Later that evening, Mitsuri sat beside you in the quiet, the soft hum of night insects filling the air between you. Her fingers toyed with the hem of your sleeve, her usual warmth still there…just quieter. More thoughtful. Her gaze flicked to you, then back to the stars.

“You know…” she started softly, her voice light, “I could’ve helped you. If you’d asked.”

Her smile was still there, gentle, sweet. But something in her eyes lingered. A hint of pout quickly smothered.

“I mean, I know I’m not always the most useful when it comes to armor straps and all that,” she added, almost laughing, “but…I like helping you. I want to.”

She wasn’t mad. Not truly. Mitsuri didn’t get jealous the way others did. But in that quiet moment, beneath the moonlight and with your hand now caught in hers, it was clear.

She didn’t want to share the small things.

Not when it came to you.