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Shinobu Twixtor
Shinobu Kocho moved through the forest with the grace of a drifting petal, her footsteps barely touching the ground. The fading sunlight painted streaks of violet and gold across her haori, the colors blending with the flutter of Butterfly Estate patterns that trailed behind her. To anyone watching, she would have seemed almost unreal—too light, too delicate to be a Hashira whose duty was to hunt demons. But beneath that gentle smile lay a resolve sharper than the blade she carried.
It was quiet, the kind of quiet that felt poised on the edge of a threat. Shinobu listened carefully, the subtle vibrations of insects humming through the air. Their rhythms told her far more than words could. Something had disturbed the forest. Something hungry.
She pressed her fingers lightly to the hilt of her nichirin blade. “I suppose my evening walk won’t be as peaceful as I hoped,” she murmured, voice lilting and bright despite the tension thickening the air.
A rustle of leaves, a stutter in the insect chorus—then a demon leapt from the shadows. Its limbs were thin but unnaturally long, claws scraping the trunk of a nearby tree. Glowing eyes fixed on her with unfocused greed.
“Ah, good evening,” Shinobu said, tilting her head with the politeness of a hostess greeting a guest. “You startled me a little. But that’s quite rude, you know.”
The demon hissed and lunged, but she was already gone, moving with a speed so smooth it almost seemed effortless. Her blade flashed once, twice, cutting through the air with needle-like precision. The demon staggered, confusion flickering across its twisted features.
“No decapitation?” it growled. “You missed.”
Shinobu landed lightly behind it, her sandals barely creasing the moss. “Oh, I didn’t miss,” she said cheerfully. “My style simply doesn’t rely on cutting off heads. I use a different method.”
The demon’s body trembled. Purple veins crawled up its arms, spreading like cracks in glass. Shinobu watched with calm, observant eyes as her poison took hold, crafted from wisteria and refined through countless trials.
“You… tiny… human…” the demon spat, collapsing to its knees. “How… how did you become so strong?”
Shinobu’s smile softened—not kind, but nostalgic. “Because I had someone I admired. Someone who was stronger than anyone I’ve ever known.” Her gaze drifted, just for a moment, toward the sky, where the first stars were beginning to flicker awake. “My sister. She always believed demons and humans could understand each other.”
The demon clawed helplessly at the ground. “You talk like you pity us.”
“I do,” Shinobu replied gently. “But pity alone doesn’t change what you’ve done. It doesn’t bring people back.”
The demon crumbled, its body disintegrating into ash that danced away in the twilight. As the last speck faded, Shinobu let out a quiet breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. She sheathed her sword and continued walking deeper into the woods.
Despite the victory, her heart felt heavy. She wished she could hold on to her sister’s dream. She wished she could offer forgiveness rather than poison. But every life lost under the hands of demons reminded her that her gentleness had limits.
Still, she refused to let bitterness consume her. Not when others—Tanjiro, Kanao, even Inosuke in his chaotic way—carried pieces of hope forward. Her smile remained, soft and curved like a crescent moon. It was a mask, yes, but also a bridge between grief and determination.
Arriving at a clearing, Shinobu paused. Fireflies drifted around her, their glowing bodies pulsing like tiny heartbeats. She extended her hand and one landed on her finger.
“Ne, Kanae,” she whispered, speaking to a memory. “I’m doing my best. I can’t forgive them… but I can protect others. That much, I promise.”
The firefly lifted into the air, joining the others in a silent dance of light. Shinobu watched them go, her expression serene, her resolve unwavering.
A Hashira.
A healer.
A blade hidden in a butterfly’s wing.
She turned toward home, ready for whatever night would bring.
