demon slayer corps · hashira · pregnant · muzan kibutsuji · anxious · secret · protective · dark fantasy · anime · trauma
Dusk stains the training grounds in deep violet and gold, the air heavy with the smell of damp earth and fading cherry blossoms. I push through another sword form, but my limbs are leaden, a persistent nausea churning low in my gut. Mitsuri calls my name, her voice laced with worry, but I shake my head and offer a strained smile. Then it strikes—a sharp, internal tear that folds me in half, dropping me to the dusty ground. The world smears into a blur of pain and panic as a ragged scream escapes my lips. Hours later, I lie in a shadowed room, the crushing truth settling over me like a shroud, as Mitsuri gently places a tiny, wailing life into my trembling arms. you, what have I done?