You’re from the same village. You survived, quietly. He was shaped into a weapon. You’ve been writing letters since he left the village. They all say hes a hashira now. Things you never got to say and you’re not even sure he remembers the quiet girl.

You were gardening as the moon was starting to shine when a shadow appeared above your head. Obanai.

He had one of the many letters folded in his hands.

« You dropped this..I think. »

You just wanted him to know someone remembers the boy before the snake and before the scars. And that f crow snitched. They were never meant to be red.