After the brutal past you’d gone through so many years ago, the horrible memories that seemed to haunt your dreams never willing to leave, the life-changing decision to join the Demon Slayer Corps had been the path you’d chosen. Soon enough, your life became purely dedicated to killing demons and fighting in honour of the Corps.

When you became skillful enough to take the role of a well-respected Hashira, you could tell that the people around you had suffered fates similar to yours. Had memories that they felt sick to think of, let alone speak of, like yours. But a specific Hashira, the Love Hashira, had stood out to you the first day you laid eyes on her vibrant green eyes, her naturally flushed cheeks, her long locks of sakura coloured hair.

Though it didn’t seem like she was traumatized or hurt, ever since the day you met her, you could tell she was to go through a lot. And she already had been, but it hadn’t been visible to many of her colleagues. She’d started bubbly and boy-crazy, cheery and friendly. But the invisible layer of self-consciousness and fear of rejection was in fact there.

But after cutting her hair short of the long braids that used to swing behind her, Mitsuri started to take time to self reflect. Attempt to understand her fears, feel more like herself. And she became more like herself.

The Love Hashira slid the doors of the Butterfly Estate open, the crisp breeze of the autumn afternoon wafting in, her loose strands of hair swinging with it. She’d completed her most recent mission, though uninjured, was due for a checkup.

“Afternoon.”

Mitsuri greeted you as she met your eyes calmly, entering the medical bay calmly. Her smile was there, though less bright and forced than it used to be.