#choyume

❝ you dropped your sword. ❞ (for rengoku!)

Working with one's hands often meant that the fingers would eventually go numb. That was the usual expectancy of it, at least. A swift motion to pull his nichirin sword from its sheath ended in the whole thing simply sliding out of his hands, guard bumping against his thumb before clattering to the ground. It had narrowly missed his foot, him having moved it just in time. There was a moment of silence from the both of them as they stared incredulously at the blade settled in the dirt before he shifted to pick it up and slide it back in the scabbard. It was mildly embarrassing, he'd admit. But that would eventually pass. It was rather funny!

It only took a moment for his usual smile to press back to his face, posture correcting itself. "I certainly had!" It would have been worse were it not for them being in a mostly safe space for the time being. "How clumsy of me! I should be more careful." A minor scold at himself, though he guessed she would likely not find it as amusing as he had. It would have been far worse were it not for the fact he had moved in time for the cutting edge of the blade to miss his foot and merely roll to one side. Though that begged the question -- why were his hands not gripping the tsuka well enough? He had practiced enough that it should have been muscle memory to hold it the right way that he wouldn't drop it... So what happened? Firey eyes glanced at his now empty hand, expression only flickering while he pondered.

"Did you happen to notice anything odd upon crossing the boundary between the field and the woods?"

Detailed sketch of Shinobu from Demon Slayer, hope you all enjoy this first time drawing of the character! 🦋

Also as a gift art for @choyume as their writing of Shinobu is so good! Highly recommend following! 💜

@choyume ~Liked for a starter~

"Ah Shinobu-san, I'm surprised to see you up so early." The sun would rise in an hour as the miko was walking around the butterfly manor, getting ready to take a walk in the gardens. She had been up all night tending to some of the patients while the younger girls got much-needed rest.

Such an odd country he found himself in.

Chopper was currently wandering through a forest in Japan, but in truth, he had seen enough from the people and creatures of this world to know that it wasn't like his own. Special powers were certainly less common here than in his world, as it seemed the only ones who could be called superhuman were a strange type of creature known as demons, whom Chopper had already encountered briefly.

Of course, even with demonic creatures, Chopper was an oddity. Walking around with a squeak emitting from his hooves every step of the way, anyone with eyes could see that he was an anthropomorphic reindeer, about 90 cm (2'11½") tall. It seemed like it wasn't an issue for him so far though. Talking crows existed, so what's a reindeer or two going to matter? While this made making friends easier, it also made Chopper curious about these crows he'd heard about.

His scrawny legs moved him forward, but Chopper grumbled irritably at how aimless he really was, revealing a child-like voice despite the annoyance felt by it. His scrawny arms swung back and forth as the boy looked ahead, hoping to remain carefree in some capacity despite his boredom. The boy wore a blue cap with a ring of dots around the circle and buckles hanging from the sides, wearing it over a large, pink, fuzzy hat with a white X in the center of that one. On his torso, he wore a white and yellow vertical-striped tank top and an orange pair of shorts, all suited to his size. His blue nose and brown antlers sticking out the sides of his hat made getting through crowds difficult, which may have been part of why he stuck to forested areas.

A mysterious scent invaded his nostrils. Wisteria? In his brief time here, Chopper came to understand that the flowery aroma was something of a poison to demonkind. It was broad daylight though. The perfect time to be out and about collecting things to defend himself with. Stepping forward, Chopper's eyes widened slightly upon realizing that there was no wild wisteria out here, but instead, just a small girl with a sword. Gazing up at the young woman, the reindeer rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. "Uh… my bad. I guess you got the wisteria first." He hoped she wouldn't react too poorly to the abnormality he was. Judging from the sword, he figured she probably wasn't a normal bystander, so he kept a distance for now.

@choyume asked: ❝ i don't mean to be too forward, you just seem like you could use a friend right now. ❞

"Is it that obvious?"

The reply is deadpan, but the way Giyu's eyes constrict betray the surprise at the blunt way Shinobu spoke - perceptive, straight-forward, and piercing through the admittedly thin veil of stoicism Giyu typically hid behind. Most took him for aloof and distant, but with one sentence, Shinobu had pegged the truth -

- Giyu was lonely.

"Aren't you busy with your work? Why waste time talking to me?"

"Shinobu-san!" Tanjiro waved heavily as he lightly jogged back into the Butterfly Mansion. "I'm back! I brought some of those supplies you asked for!" Removing the extra basket from around his front considering he had Nezuko's box on his back.

She didn’t trust her voice yet. Didn’t trust the way it might shatter, or what might come out instead.

The room smelled faintly of camellia oil and old incense, the remnants of offerings burned days ago. Light filtered weakly through the paper screens— too gentle, too kind for a morning that should not have arrived at all.

Nezuko laid still. As if by remaining perfectly still, she could preserve the shape of his absence.

The room was remarkably empty, minus her sword propped against the wall, still stained near the hilt where her shaking hands had clutched it. Her uniform lay folded and untouched at the edge of the cot. For days she’d worn only her under-robes, unable to bear the weight of that Flame left behind.

"...I can't even dream of him anymore," the girl murmured finally. Her voice sounded smaller than she expected, rasped raw with disuse.

In the distance, she thought she could still see the orange flicker of that final blaze, reflected in memory. Her heart lurched painfully. She could hear his laughter there too— bright, blazing, the kind that burned through every shadow.

"Do you think," Nezuko rasped, voice quivering, "that when the gods make someone like him, they already know they won’t let him stay long?"