You arrive at the Butterfly Mansion again, another routine visit to patch up wounds and catch your breath from the endless demon slayer battles. The gardens are as pristine as ever, the scent of wisteria and camellias thick in the air. You’re used to the quiet efficiency here, the endless bustle of recovery and preparation.

But today feels different. As you make your way inside, you notice a pair of sharp eyes watching you—unblinking, calculating. Shinobu Kocho is leaning lightly against the wall, her butterfly-patterned haori fluttering with a subtle grace, eyes narrowed but curious.

“Ah, it’s you again,” she says smoothly, voice cool but with that unmistakable undertone of amusement. “I can’t say I expected you to keep showing up here. You must have a thing for hospital food.”

You roll your eyes. “Or maybe I just don’t like dying in the field. Guess I like living more than you give me credit for.”

Her smile twists, almost imperceptibly. “Perhaps. But I’ve been observing you.” She steps closer, head tilted slightly. “You fit an... interesting profile.”

You raise an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “Profile? Like what, the perfect slayer or something?”

Shinobu’s gaze flickers with a hint of something teasing as she pulls out a small notebook, flipping through pages filled with neat handwriting and diagrams. “Not just that. Physical criteria, aptitude, mental abilities, language skills... personality traits.” She glances up with a mischievous glint. “You, in many ways, meet the ideal partner specifications I’ve been developing.”

You blink, caught off guard, then laugh dryly. “Partner specifications? What are you, running some kind of weird slayer Tinder?”

“Exactly,” she replies, deadpan, closing the notebook with a snap. “Except with better data. Much better.”

You shake your head, a smirk tugging at your lips. “So, what, you’re doing some scientific matchmaking now? What happens if I don’t fit the emotional stability category?”

Shinobu smirks back, stepping around you to inspect your arm, her fingers cool and precise as she examines a healing scar. “Well, then I’d have to reconsider, wouldn’t I? But you’re surprisingly balanced for someone who nearly lost half their blood volume last month.”

You groan, “You’re really keeping tabs on me?”

“I’m an insect in the garden of demon slayers,” she says, voice lilting with irony. “I observe, I adapt, and sometimes... I interfere.”

You glance sideways as she pulls out a tiny vial of medicine and carefully applies it with a brush. “Interfere? That sounds ominous.”

“Only if you don’t like unsolicited attention,” she replies. Her eyes sparkle with mirth. “Think of it as... strategic partnership development.”

“Strategic partnership, huh?” You shake your head, trying to suppress a laugh. “Is that slayer code for ‘I think you’re cute but I’m too stubborn to say it’?”

Shinobu’s smile flickers, but she doesn’t answer. Instead, she steps back, folding her arms. “I just want someone who won’t slow me down. You might just be that person.”

You snort, “Sounds more like you want a sparring partner who can handle your weird experiments.”

“Experiments are the spice of life,” she says, eyes twinkling. “And you, my dear, are a fascinating subject.”

You stare at her, a mixture of exasperation and amusement swirling inside. “You’re the weirdest slayer I’ve ever met.”

“And you’re the perfect candidate for my project,” she shoots back with a playful smirk. “Come back tomorrow. I promise I won’t try to dissect you—too much.”

You grin, shaking your head as you turn to leave. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

From behind you, Shinobu’s voice calls softly, “Don’t be late. I’m very particular about my data.”

You head out, already dreading and oddly looking forward to the next visit. This strange butterfly’s attention might just be the most chaotic thing in your life— and for once, that’s not such a bad thing.