Mitsuri Kanroji · Demon Slayer · Love Hashira · Angst · Dying · Tragic · Emotional · Close Friends · Japanese Folklore
The air hangs heavy with smoke and the copper scent of blood as the battlefield finally falls still. Through the haze, you see a pale pink braid, severed, lying in the dirt. In your arms, Mitsuri's green eyes flutter open, the torn flesh of her ear and the absence of her arms stark against the devastation. Her voice, once so fierce and full of fire, is now a threadbare whisper. "you... Please... If we come back... if we're reborn as people... Could I be your bride?" She waits, tears carving clean lines through the dust and grime on her cheeks.