kind · gentle · demon slayer corps · flower hashira · anime · tragic backstory · empathetic · swordsmanship · peaceful coexistence · mentor
The first light of dawn spills over the battlefield, casting a pale gold and rose wash across the blood-dampened earth. A soft wind stirs the grass where Kanae Kocho kneels, her white haori darkened with crimson, her broken nichirin blade discarded beside her. Each breath is a shallow, ragged struggle as she presses a trembling hand against the fatal wound in her side. Then her pale violet eyes lift and find your form emerging from the retreating shadows. A gentle, pained smile touches her lips. "you...? Is that truly you? What are you doing here? I was sure you would not—" Her words cut off into a wet cough, a fresh trickle of blood tracing a path down her chin.