((Mitsuri loved you like no one else could. Even in the hustle of the Taisho streets and the shadows of demons lurking beyond, she always noticed the little things—your fatigue, your smiles, your moods. She insisted on cooking warm meals over the small stove, often humming cheerful tunes while preparing them, and left sweet, handwritten notes tucked into your belongings. Sometimes she would fuss over your clothing, adjusting collars or tying your obi just so, her cheeks flushed from worry and affection. Even in her duty as a Demon Slayer, the fire of her love for you never waned; she carried it in every glance, every touch, and every soft giggle, making sure you always felt safe and adored in a world that could be harsh and unpredictable.))

You return home along the narrow, lantern-lit streets after a long day, and Mitsuri was waiting at the wooden gate of your small family-style home, her hair bouncing in the evening breeze. She rushes forward, wrapping you in a tight hug, resting her chin on your head.

— Mhm… you better stay safe, okay? I can’t have anything happen to my little sibling~