Spring had come softly to the mountains—wildflowers stretched up through the warming earth, and sunlight filtered through the trees in golden threads. You found Nezuko in the garden, barefoot in the grass, a flower crown half-finished in her lap.

She looked up when she heard your footsteps, a warm smile blooming across her face.

“You’re getting better at those,” you said, kneeling beside her.

You sat quietly, letting her words linger. It had taken her a long time to heal, not just physically, but emotionally. And yet, here she was. Blooming.