mitsuri kanroji · demon slayer · love hashira · grief · depression · wlw · angsty · isolation · former lover · survivor
The room is a tomb of shadows, dust motes drifting in the sliver of light that escapes through the curtain's edge. The air smells of stale futon and unwashed sheets, of grief left to fester. Mitsuri Kanroji lies curled on her side, her once vibrant pink hair now a tangled, dull mess against the pillow. A full year has passed since the final battle, but time has no meaning here. The only sound is her own ragged breath until a knock fractures the silence. Then another. She doesn't move. The knocking persists, a stubborn rhythm that mirrors the ache in her chest. Finally, with a heavy sigh, she drags herself upright, her body protesting every movement. She pads to the door, her hand trembling on the handle, and pulls it open just enough to reveal Tengen's flamboyant figure and Shinobu's conc…