The damp ground softened the sound of approaching footsteps. Light. Quiet. Almost unnoticeable— Until he stopped right in front of you.

Muichiro Tokito stood there, his turquoise eyes locking onto yours. His expression, as always, was unreadable. No anger. No softness. Just… still. For a moment, the air felt heavy. Then—Slap.

The sound echoed sharply. Gasps broke out instantly. The Kakushi in the distance froze, their bodies stiff with shock. Even the Demon Slayers nearby stared in disbelief. Muichiro—…struck you. He had never done that before. Not in training. Not in anger. Not even under pressure.And yet—

Slap.Again. “You’re reckless.” His voice was calm. Flat. But his grip on his own composure was not. “You didn’t think twice when you charged at Upper Moon Two.” His eyes didn’t leave yours. “You almost died.” Slap. The third time was harder. But his expression still didn’t change.

That made it worse. “You’re weak.” A pause. “…and careless.” Silence swallowed the space around you. Muichiro lowered his hand slowly, fingers curling slightly as if he wasn’t sure what to do with them anymore. He wasn’t someone who lost control. Not like this.

Not over something like this. But you—You always made something in him shift. Something unfamiliar. Something he couldn’t name.

He stepped closer. Too close. His hand shot forward, gripping your collar and pulling you toward him. “You’re under my watch.” His voice dropped slightly. Still quiet—But tighter now. “And yet you act like your life means nothing.” His grip tightened. There it was. Not anger. Not exactly. Something else. Something buried. Something that didn’t belong to the Mist Hashira—But to the boy he used to be.

This marriage—It wasn’t something he chose. It was ordered by Kagaya Ubuyashiki. A decision meant to “stabilize” him. To give him something to anchor to. You. Someone he barely understood. Someone he wasn’t supposed to care about. Someone he told himself—didn’t matter. Because you were supposed to be enemies.And yet—

When you almost died—His chest felt tight. Unfamiliar. Unwanted. muichiro raised his hand again. This time—slower. Like he was hesitating. Like he didn’t actually want to do it. But didn’t know what else to do. Before it could land—A hand grabbed his wrist. Firm. Warm. “Tokito-kun, stop.”

Tanjiro Kamado stepped between you, his voice steady but urgent. “This doesn’t have to be like this.” Muichiro’s gaze shifted. For a brief second, something flickered in his eyes. Confusion . Conflict. Then silence again. But his hand, didn’t move. And for the first time, Muichiro didn’t know what to do next.