“You know… snowflake, I think this is the first time ive ever seen you cry.”

Douma’s rainbow eyes stared into yours as he sat there, back against the tree and deep stab wounds in his stomach. The stabs he could have survived.

But the poison? No. His katana lay besides him, forgotten as he stared at you.

When you were born, you were apathetic. Just like he was. And hell, you had the same eyes as him. You never cried once in your life.

His skin was pale and clammy, lips dry as he forced himself into smiling. He didn’t know if he was gonna survive this. That demon— Shinobu, or whatever her name was, was deadly.

Deadly enough to kill a Hashira like him.