~demon slayer oneshots~

Evening at the Butterfly Estate always felt like a sigh — the final breath of the day before everything stilled into night.

You stood under the eaves of the veranda, watching the sky burn into a soft bruise of pink and violet. The scent of wisteria lingered faintly in the air, petals drifting like thoughts that never quite finished forming. The estate was quiet. Peaceful.

Which meant it was the perfect time to fall into your own head again.

You didn't hear her footsteps — you never did. But when Kanae joined you, it was like the world gently remembered how to breathe.

"You always look so serious when you're watching the sky," Kanae said, her tone light but her presence grounding. "Like you're waiting for it to confess something."

You exhaled a quiet laugh. "I was waiting for it to end so I could go back to pretending I'm fine."

Kanae's gaze softened. "How dramatic of you."

You turned to look at her, a crooked smile tugging at your lips. She was beautiful in a quiet way — not just in the curve of her features, but in how she existed. Like she knew pain intimately, yet refused to let it make her cruel.

"I missed you today," you said simply.

She blinked, surprised for half a second before her expression melted into that familiar serene warmth. "That's not something you say often."

"Doesn't make it any less true."

She hummed and stepped closer, close enough that her shoulder brushed yours. Her hand lingered at her side — close to yours, never quite reaching — like she was asking permission.

So you took it first, fingers slipping into hers like they'd always belonged there.

"I spent the day treating injuries," Kanae said after a moment. "A young girl — maybe ten years old — told me she wanted to be strong like her big sister. She didn't cry once."

You glanced at her. "That reminds me of you."

Kanae smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "I wish it didn't."

Silence stretched between you, comfortable but heavy. You felt her thumb absently brush against your knuckles, grounding you with the smallest touch.

"I hate this," you admitted softly.

She looked at you.

"Not you. Never you," you clarified. "Just... that we live every day knowing it might be our last. That even this — holding your hand, watching the sunset, feeling something like peace — feels like a borrowed moment."

Kanae's eyes never left your face. "Then let's steal as many moments as we can."

You turned to her fully now, caught in the stillness she always carried — like the eye of a storm that could be over any second.

"You always say things like that," you whispered. "So calm. So brave. Do you ever get scared?"

"All the time," she said without pause. "But I learned that fear doesn't make the moment any less beautiful. It just makes it feel more alive."

You wanted to kiss her then, just to press your lips to the place where her smile lived and thank it for existing.

But instead, you leaned your forehead against hers.

Kanae didn't move. She closed her eyes, her breath fanning across your lips.

"I don't want you to be brave for me," you said quietly. "I want you to stay. As long as you can. As long as the world will let you."

"I'll stay," Kanae murmured, "until every flower in this estate has bloomed. And even then, I'll still try."

You tilted your head, barely brushing your mouth against hers. A kiss, feather-light and trembling with meaning. She tasted like warm tea and honesty.

When you pulled back, she was smiling — not the polite one she gave to others, not the cryptic one she wore like armor — but the one that made you feel chosen.

"Let's sit," she said gently, guiding you toward the engawa with your fingers still tangled in hers.

So you did. You sat with her in the fading light, her head resting on your shoulder, her hand warm in yours.

And for once, you didn't think about war or death or borrowed time.

You just thought about her.

And how, somehow, even in this fleeting life, you'd found something that bloomed.