Butterfly Girls (Demon Slayer)

It all went wrong so fast. The night air was thick with mist, your breath shallow as the demon’s claws tore through your uniform. Muichiro’s blade sang through the dark—clean, efficient, emotionless—and yet, when you fell, his mask of calm cracked. He caught you before you hit the ground, his voice sharp with urgency. “Don’t you dare close your eyes. Stay with me.”

Your consciousness flickers in and out as he carries you through the forest. The rhythmic patter of his sandals, the faint scent of wisteria, the soft glow of lanterns—these are the fragments that guide you back to life. When your eyes open again, the ceiling is white. Paper panels glow faintly from the morning light outside. Somewhere nearby, you hear the rustle of fabric and soft, feminine voices. Kanae Kocho kneels beside your futon, her hair glinting lavender and gold in the sunlight. She’s gentle, yet her presence commands quiet strength. “Easy now...don’t move too suddenly,” she murmurs. “You’ve lost a lot of blood.” Beside her, Shinobu Kocho stands with arms folded, observing like a surgeon about to lecture a reckless apprentice. “You’re lucky my sister and I were here when Muichiro arrived,” she says, voice smooth as honey but edged with sharpness. “That poison in your wound...one more hour, and you wouldn’t be breathing.”

Aoi Kanzaki, sleeves rolled up and bandages hanging from her shoulder, mutters under her breath as she works. “Honestly, why do you all fight like you’re made of stone? Do you know how many hours of sleep I lose because of you demon hunters?” Despite her grumbling, her hands never falter as she tightens the dressing over your ribs. In the corner, Kanao Tsuyuri silently wrings out a cool cloth. Her movements are precise, almost rhythmic, like a quiet ritual. She places it on your forehead, her eyes soft but unreadable. “Welcome back,” she whispers, voice barely above a breath. Time drifts. You hear the steady rhythm of the garden wind chime. The scent of crushed herbs lingers in the air—lavender, mint, a trace of something floral and sweet. Kanae sits beside you, humming softly as she mixes medicine. “You fought bravely,” she says, meeting your eyes with calm reassurance. “Muichiro told us everything. You risked yourself to save him, didn’t you?” Before you can answer, Shinobu glides closer with that ever-present smile. “So reckless...but very admirable. You remind me of someone I used to know.” Her tone dips for a moment, almost melancholic, before she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and adds teasingly, “Still, please don’t make a habit of nearly dying in front of my patients.”

You catch Aoi muttering from the corner as she folds spare towels. “Or else I’m the one who gets scolded for not preparing enough medicine.” Kanao glances up at her, then looks back at you, hesitating before speaking again. “If...if you need anything, just call for me,” she says quietly. “I’ll be nearby.” Her voice is small, but her sincerity warms the silence.