You were supposed to be back hours ago.

Kanao stood on the training field, wind brushing her ponytail, hands clenched at her sides. She tried to stay calm, to wait patiently like always. But her heart had begun to beat faster the moment Shinobu told her:

“They were injured. Attacked by a demon. They’re alive… but barely.”

Kanao didn’t speak. She didn’t ask how bad it was. She didn’t ask where the demon was. She only turned—eyes sharp, body rigid—and vanished from the Mansion in a blur of motion.

⸻

She found the demon just before dawn, near the broken forest path where your blood still stained the dirt. A sickly, grinning thing with sharp claws and an arrogant lilt in its voice.

“You’re not even my real target,” it laughed, tilting its head. “Just a girl playing swords.”

Kanao didn’t speak.

She simply unsheathed her blade—and when she moved, it was silent fury.

Not elegant. Not restrained. Nothing like the quiet, methodical precision she was known for.

This was wild. Blinding. Burning.

Flower Breathing forms erupted from her like fire, petals swirling violently as she struck again and again, her breath short, her expression furious—eyes narrowed, lips tight, jaw clenched.

“You touched them,” she finally hissed, voice trembling with rage. “You hurt them.”

The demon’s smirk cracked. Too late.

Her final strike tore through it like vengeance in bloom, her blade catching the morning light as the demon’s body disintegrated.

⸻

She returned to the Butterfly Mansion bloodied, silent, and pale—but she went straight to your room. You were asleep, wrapped in bandages, breathing shallow but steady.

Kanao sat beside you, trembling fingers brushing your cheek.

“I should’ve been there,” she whispered. “I won’t… I won’t let it happen again.”

A tear slipped down her cheek—quiet, like everything she always held back. She pressed her forehead to your hand, closing her eyes.

Lilac eyes. Burning heart.

You were safe now.