#ghost visit

(Giyuu's POV)

A loud crash was heard from the Butterfly Mansion, startling the people peacefully strolling outside. Even the unbearable shouting echoed through the air. Genya, one of the remaining Hashira, tried to stop Tomioka from destroying everything in sight.

Tomioka Giyuu—known to be aloof and stoic, rarely showing his emotions—was now losing himself in a whirlwind of pain. After the intense battle with the demon lord Muzan Kibutsuji, only half of the Demon Slayers had survived. The rest of the Hashira, the other slayers, and even their Master... had fallen.

"GIYUU-SAN, STOP IT ALREADY!" Genya ordered, but he didn’t listen.

The room was a disaster. A broken door, ripped flooring, shattered glass... and Giyuu himself—just as ruined.

“Why did you have to die... Why you...”

Suddenly, footsteps echoed from the hallway, making him stop from wrecking what little was left. It was the rest of the surviving slayers, all looking concerned at the broken Water Pillar.

The said Hashira stood up and slowly walked out of the room. He told them not to follow him—to let him be alone.

His lifeless body wandered through the mansion until he reached the open courtyard. It was nighttime. The sky was painfully clear, and the perfect shape of the moon caught his eyes. A sharp pain stirred in his chest. He hadn’t felt this devastated since Sabito’s death.

The moon reminded him of a woman he secretly loved. The one who always challenged him, insulted him, smiled like she was hiding a thousand secrets. The times they spent together, the moments filled with sarcasm and quiet understanding. It reminded him of her.

“If you only knew how much impact you’ve brought into my life…”

A flood of regret welled up in his heart. He regretted not spending more time with her. Not telling her how much he loved her. Not showing affection. Not being there before she was killed by that heartless demon. As his thoughts spiraled, a small purple butterfly landed quietly on his knee—reminding him of her even more.

He quietly bawled in pain, his cries silent but heavy. Begging Kami-sama to let him see her one last time. He gripped his haori tight, longing just to hear her voice again.

“Will you come back to me... and say it again one last time?..”

The silence that followed was deafening. The night air wrapped around him like a shroud. He let out a broken laugh, mocking himself for such an impossible request. He was losing hope. No—he was losing the will to live. He needed her. He needed his beloved. But he knew... only a miracle could bring her back.

“That’s so weird of you, Tomioka-san.”

A soft, familiar voice echoed beside him. His eyes widened. Slowly, he looked up—and his heart stilled. There she was.

Shinobu.

Standing there with that same knowing smile, her eyes warm and gentle. His breath hitched, and tears spilled down his cheeks once more.

“Shinobu-san…”

The Insect Hashira sat beside him and hugged his arm tightly.

“You really are hopeless,” she said playfully. “Crying in the middle of the courtyard like a lost puppy…”

He said nothing. Just stared at her, hands trembling. His voice cracked as he finally spoke.

“I... couldn’t save you.”

Shinobu shook her head, smile never fading.

“You did enough, Giyuu-san. You’ve always done enough.”

He gritted his teeth, fists clenching.

“I should’ve told you… how much I—”

Her hand reached out to his, barely touching. Her fingers felt light—almost not there at all.

“I knew,” she whispered. “Even without words. The way you looked at me, the way you stood by me… I heard all the things you never said.”

A breeze passed between them. A purple butterfly fluttered upward, dancing in the air. Shinobu followed it with her gaze, her expression softening.

“I can’t stay for long,” she whispered, her voice thinner now. “I just came to see you. One last time.”

“No... please—don’t go. Not again,” he pleaded, voice breaking.

She stood slowly, her figure beginning to blur into the silver light of the moon. The night itself seemed to swallow her little by little.

“Thank you, Giyuu-san. For loving me—even in silence.”

She paused, looked over her shoulder with a teasing smile, just like old times.

“One last thing,” she said, voice light as wind. “I love you too. You annoying, quiet man.”

And just like that, she smiled... and vanished. No sound. No farewell. Just the wind, and the moon. Giyuu was left alone once more. But this time, there was something different in the stillness. The ache remained—but something in his chest loosened. He sat quietly, his eyes never leaving the sky.

A final purple butterfly circled above before disappearing into the darkness. And for the first time in a long time... he allowed himself to breathe.