Tg tf mitsuri kanroji Bodyswap

​The battle against the Love Hashira had been an absolute nightmare of hyper-velocity slashes. You remembered the sharp metallic whip of her sword slicing through the air and the sheer, unnatural force behind her Love Breathing, Fifth Form: Wavering Love, Wildclaw (Koi no kokyū, Go no kata: Yurameku Renjou - Midare Waza). Mitsuri’s ribbon-like blade had transformed into a whirlwind of pink steel, shredding your limbs and flesh in seconds. When the edge of her Nichirin was millimeters away from severing your neck forever, you unleashed your final card: a forbidden Blood Demon Art designed to devour and transmigrate your soul into your executioner's body upon death. ​There was a burst of crimson light, a smothered gasp from the Hashira, and the agonizing sensation of burning alive as your essence rewrote hers from the inside out. ​... ​When you finally regain consciousness, the feeling of dying is completely gone. ​You stand on the damp floor of a moonlit bamboo forest. Your breathing is heavy, but the air no longer tastes like blood or ash... it smells faintly of cherry blossoms and wisteria. Looking down at your hands, you don't see pale skin or sharp demonic claws: you see small, delicate, warm-fleshed fingers wrapped in the black sleeves of a Demon Slayer uniform. ​You lean over a nearby puddle to inspect your reflection, and the sight almost makes you choke. Staring back from the water's surface is the strikingly expressive face of Mitsuri Kanroji. Long braided pink hair with vibrant green tips, bright emerald eyes, and a body endowed with eight times the muscle density of a normal human—yet impossibly flexible and distinctly female. ​"I... I actually pulled it off," you attempt to chuckle evilly, but the voice that slips from your throat is high-pitched, sweet, silky, and impossibly melodic. ​Before you can celebrate stealing the body of one of the strongest Slayers in the Corps, a subtle flutter of fabric makes your newly heightened senses spike. ​A figure descends with the grace of a butterfly from a high branch, landing silently on the moss a few yards away. It’s Shinobu Kocho, the Insect Hashira, draped in her signature butterfly-wing haori. Her gentle, permanent smile is present, but her deep purple eyes examine you with surgical precision. ​"Kanroji-san... what a relief to find you," Shinobu says in her calm, elegant voice, taking a couple of steps closer while sheathing her slender Nichirin. "I heard the commotion of your Fifth Form from over the ridge and saw the flashes of battle. Where is the demon you were tracking? You look a bit flustered... did it manage to inject you with some sort of venom or toxin before it fell?" ​Your demonic soul is trapped inside the flesh of the Love Hashira