#mitsuri

The night was quiet, save for the steady hum of cicadas in the summer air and the faint crackle of incense burning nearby. The moon hung high, silver light spilling across the temple courtyard where Gyomei had asked you to meet him.

When you arrived, you found him waiting on his knees before the shrine, prayer beads clutched tightly in his massive hands. His head was bowed, lips murmuring a prayer so soft you almost didn’t catch it. You’d seen him pray countless times, but this felt… different. There was a trembling weight to it.

When he finally raised his head, you noticed his eyes shimmered, not just with moonlight, but with tears.

“Forgive me if my words come clumsy,” he rumbled, voice deep and fragile at once, “but I cannot keep them caged in my chest any longer.”

He reached for you then, carefully, like you were porcelain. Despite his immense size, his touch was feather-light as he guided your hands into his own. You felt the warmth of his calloused palms, the steady rhythm of his pulse, the unspoken devotion in the way he held you as if you were the most sacred thing in the world.

“All my life,” Gyomei began, tears rolling freely now, “I have prayed for strength to protect, to guide, to carry others’ burdens when they falter. And yet—” His voice cracked, his breath catching as he squeezed your hands gently. “—you have been the one to carry mine. Your laughter… your kindness… the way you simply exist has saved me more times than I dare admit.”

He bowed his head again, tears dripping onto your joined hands.

Then, with a trembling exhale, he shifted onto one knee. His size alone made the gesture overwhelming, the towering, unshakable Stone Pillar kneeling before you like a humble man with nothing but his heart to offer.

From the folds of his robes, he produced a small, hand-carved wooden box. It wasn’t polished gold or expensive velvet, it was simple, yet smooth and lovingly shaped, as if he’d worked on it late at night with nothing but patience and prayers. When he opened it, you saw a ring inside, the band etched with delicate lines resembling prayer beads, a tiny stone glimmering at its center like a captured star.

“I have little to give this world that is not strength,” he whispered, voice breaking under the weight of his tears. “But every part of me, my prayers, my days, my heart belongs to you. Will you… allow me the honor of spending the rest of my life at your side?”

The cicadas quieted, the incense smoke curled higher, and for a moment the whole world stilled, as if holding its breath for your answer.

And when you said yes, Gyomei sobbed openly, clutching your hands to his forehead as if he were giving thanks to the gods themselves. His tears stained your knuckles, but his smile, gentle, broken, radiant was brighter than the moonlight itself.

───────୨ৎ───────

The world was drenched in warm orange as the sun dipped toward the horizon, painting the sky in fire. Rengoku had dragged you out to the fields just outside the city, saying he had something “most important” to show you.

He stood there, back lit by the sunset, his wild hair glowing like molten flame. His usual booming grin was on his face, but there was a certain nervous flicker in his eyes that you’d never seen before.

“[Name]!” he called, voice carrying like a war drum. “I’ve fought countless battles in my life! I have faced demons without fear and walked the edge of death itself!”

Then, in an uncharacteristic break, his voice softened, still strong, but trembling with raw emotion.

“Yet nothing has made my heart race like standing before you now.”

You blinked as he suddenly bent down, hands fumbling behind his back. When he straightened, he held something out proudly, a lacquered wooden box, decorated with a phoenix motif that he’d clearly burned into the surface himself.

But before he opened it, he grabbed your shoulders with surprising urgency, eyes blazing brighter than the sunset.

“You are my reason to keep moving forward! My fire burns brighter because you are by my side! Every moment I spend with you fills my chest with joy so strong, I could laugh until my voice breaks!”

And then Rengoku, the man who never once wavered in the face of death, actually blushed. His voice lowered, gentler, so unlike his usual roar that it made your chest ache.

“So please, allow me the honor of making you my family… for the rest of my days.”

With a decisive motion, he dropped to one knee. The box flipped open, revealing a golden ring with a ruby set in the middle, burning as fiercely as his spirit. The band itself looked like dancing flames, carefully crafted, shimmering with life.

He held it out, eyes locked on yours, and for the first time you saw vulnerability flicker in the flame.

“Will you marry me?”

The sunset behind him seemed to ignite, and in that moment you could swear the entire sky was cheering with him. When you said yes, his face lit up even brighter than the fiery horizon, and he laughed, a booming, joyous laugh that echoed across the fields. He scooped you up in his arms, spinning you around until your cheeks hurt from smiling.

“FLAME AND SOUL! TOGETHER FOREVER!!” he shouted to the sky, as if he wanted the gods themselves to witness it.

And honestly? You knew they did.

───────୨ৎ───────

It wasn’t candlelight or a sunset. It was late at night, just the two of you sitting on the engawa outside his home. The cicadas had gone quiet, and the air was cool enough that you could see your breath. Sanemi was sitting beside you, a flask of sake in his hand, scars catching the moonlight like pale threads stitched across his skin.

He hadn’t said a word for a while, which was unusual even his silences usually buzzed with tension, like he was daring the world to piss him off. But tonight? He just looked… restless.

Finally, he shoved the flask down and barked,

“Tch.. damn it. I can’t keep this in anymore.”

You blinked at him, startled, but before you could ask, he was already dragging a hand through his spiky white hair, jaw tight. His voice was sharp, but underneath it trembled something uncharacteristically fragile.

“I’m no good at this shit. I don’t… I don’t say things right. I’m rough, I’ve got more scars than I can count, and I’ve lost more people than I’ll ever admit.”

His fists clenched on his knees. He looked away, teeth gritted like the words were being dragged out of him.

“But you- damn it, you stuck around. You didn’t flinch when I pushed you away, didn’t run when I showed you the ugliest parts of me. And for some reason—” His voice cracked, low and raw. “—you made me wanna live for something other than fighting.”

He stood abruptly, pacing like a caged animal, then finally whipped around and dropped to one knee so fast it was almost clumsy. From his haori, he yanked out a little pouch, rough leather, clearly handmade. He shoved it toward you with shaking hands.

When you opened it, you found a silver ring, simple but strong, with little wind-carved etchings along the band that looked almost like scars, and yet somehow, beautiful.

Sanemi’s voice shook, but his eyes burned into yours with a ferocity that left no room for doubt.

“I ain’t promising perfection. Hell, I’ll probably screw up a thousand times over. But I’ll fight for you. I’ll bleed for you. I’ll protect you with every damn breath I’ve got left.”

Then, almost too soft to hear, he added

“…So marry me. Please.”

The word please broke something in your chest. Sanemi never begged. Never asked. But here he was, trembling, scars and soul laid bare, holding his heart out like a bloody offering.

When you whispered yes, he exhaled like he’d been holding his breath for years. He pressed his forehead to yours, rough hands cupping your face, muttering curses under his breath except this time, they weren’t angry. They were shaky little prayers, like “shit, I love you so much” and “don’t you ever leave me.”

And when he finally slipped the ring onto your finger, his lips brushed over your knuckles, not delicate, not practiced, but desperate. Real.

───────୨ৎ───────

The rain had just stopped, leaving the world dripping and fresh. You found Giyuu standing by the riverbank, where the moonlight shimmered across the water like liquid silver. He was always drawn to places like this. quiet, still, where words didn’t feel so heavy.

When he noticed you approaching, he shifted slightly, his haori swaying in the breeze. He didn’t smile, but his eyes softened, a gentleness reserved only for you. For a moment, the two of you stood side by side, listening to the water rush over stones.

Then, in his usual abrupt way, he spoke:

“There’s… something I need to say.”

His voice was low, almost drowned out by the river. His hands were at his sides, clenching and unclenching as though the words themselves were sharp.

“I’ve spent most of my life… watching people disappear. Every time I cared, it was taken from me. Every bond I made was cut short.”

He glanced down, unable to meet your eyes, his brows furrowed like he was scolding himself.

“When you came into my life, I thought it would be the same. That if I let myself hold on, the world would tear you away too. So I tried—” his voice wavered, “—I tried not to hold on at all.”

Your chest ached as he finally turned toward you, and for the first time, you saw fear. not of demons, not of death, but of losing you.

Slowly, with shaking hands, Giyuu reached into his uniform and pulled out a small cloth pouch. He untied it with fumbling fingers, revealing a ring inside: silver, delicate, carved with a pattern that mimicked rippling waves. Clearly something he’d chosen carefully, even if he never said so.

When he looked at you again, his eyes glistened, not from the river’s reflection, but from unshed tears.

“I’m not good with words. I’m not… easy to be with. But I know this: I can’t imagine a world without you in it. And I don’t want to anymore.”

He swallowed hard, then dropped to one knee, his voice trembling as he held the ring out to you.

“So… will you stay? With me? For the rest of our lives?”

The river roared quietly in the background, but the silence between you was louder. When you whispered yes, his breath hitched like he didn’t believe it. He slipped the ring on your finger with unsteady hands, his lips parting like he wanted to say more, but all that came out was a broken, relieved exhale.

He leaned his forehead against your hand, tears dripping onto your skin as he whispered the words he’d never said out loud before:

“Thank you… for not letting go.”

───────୨ৎ───────

The mist rolled gently across the mountainside, curling around the trees like pale silk. Muichiro had brought you here, but his favorite spot to watch the clouds drift endlessly above. He was lying in the grass, eyes fixed on the sky, his expression calm and far away as usual.

For a while, he didn’t say anything. You thought maybe he had forgotten why he asked you to come here in the first place. But then, out of nowhere, his voice floated into the air, quiet and thoughtful.

“The sky looks endless, doesn’t it?”

You hummed in agreement, glancing at him. His pale eyes stayed fixed above, but there was something sharper in them, a rare focus.

“I used to think life was like that, too. Endless. But then I lost everything. My family, my time, even myself.”

He turned his head toward you then, his expression soft in a way that stole the breath from your lungs.

“And then… you appeared. Like sunlight breaking through the mist.”

Slowly, Muichiro sat up, reaching into his sleeve. His hands moved with unusual certainty as he pulled out a tiny wooden box, carved with cloud patterns. He held it gently, like it was something precious, before offering it to you with both hands.

When he opened it, you saw a ring, delicate silver, the band etched with tiny swirls that resembled drifting mist, a small aquamarine gem set at its center like a captured piece of the sky.

His voice, usually airy and detached, was firm now, quiet but unwavering.

“I forget a lot of things. Names, moments… sometimes even my own worth. But no matter how foggy everything gets, one thing always stays clear.”

He took your hand, his slender fingers brushing against yours with surprising steadiness. His pale eyes locked onto yours, filled with more emotion than words could carry.

“I love you. I don’t ever want to forget what it feels like to be with you. So… will you stay with me? Always?”

The mist curled thicker around you both, as if even the world itself was holding its breath. When you whispered yes, Muichiro’s lips parted in the faintest smile—small, rare, and more radiant than the rising sun.

He slipped the ring onto your finger, then leaned against your shoulder, his hair brushing your skin. His voice was a murmur, already softening back into dreamlike tones:

“Good. Because I think… with you, I’ll never feel lost again.”

───────୨ৎ───────

The night air was cool, lantern light flickering faintly inside Obanai’s home. You were curled up beside him on the tatami floor, Kaburamaru lazily coiled across his shoulders. Obanai wasn’t speaking. he rarely did when silence was enough but his mismatched eyes kept flicking toward you, watching like you were something fragile he was terrified to lose.

Finally, after what felt like hours, his low, quiet voice cut through the stillness:

“I don’t… deserve you.”

You sat up a little, startled, but he didn’t look at you. His gaze stayed fixed on the floor, his hand absently stroking Kaburamaru’s scales.

“My blood is stained. My family’s sins are carved into me. All my life I’ve believed I was filthy.. something cursed, undeserving of happiness.”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, his usual sharp tongue softened into something trembling, bare.

“But then you came along.”

Slowly, his mismatched eyes lifted to yours. For once, there was no scowl, no sharpness, just a raw, aching vulnerability that nearly undid you.

“You… you look at me like I’m worth something. Like I’m not the monster I’ve always seen in the mirror. And it terrifies me, because—”

His voice cracked, and he reached into his robes with shaking fingers. When his hand emerged, he held a small, black-lacquered box, the edges worn like he’d carried it for months, too afraid to actually open it.

“—because I don’t know what I’d do if I lost that.”

Finally, he moved closer, dropping to one knee in front of you. Kaburamaru slithered down his arm, curling delicately around your wrist, as though even the serpent was part of the vow he was making. Obanai opened the box, revealing a slender silver ring shaped like two intertwining serpents, their heads meeting to hold a tiny gem between them.

His voice was barely above a whisper, raw and stripped of all armor:

“I have nothing pure to give you. Only this flawed heart that beats louder whenever you’re near. But if you’ll allow it—” his breath trembled, “—I want to spend what remains of my life at your side. As your husband.”

His mismatched eyes burned into yours, terrified and desperate all at once.

“Will you marry me?”

When you answered yes, Obanai let out a shaky exhale, like he’d been suffocating until this very moment. His hands trembled as he slid the ring onto your finger, and when he leaned forward to press his forehead to your hands, Kaburamaru nuzzled against your palm too, like the snake was sealing the vow alongside him.

Obanai’s voice broke, barely audible as he whispered:

“…thank you, for choosing me. For making me believe I could be loved.”

───────୨ৎ───────

The festival lanterns glowed warm and pink, strung above the bustling street. Mitsuri had dragged you out, practically bouncing on her feet the whole way, her hair swaying in candy-colored waves as she pointed excitedly at every food stall you passed.

“Ooh, [Name]-chan, look at the taiyaki! And the dango! Ohhh, and that stall has candied apples—so cute!!”

Her enthusiasm was contagious—you couldn’t help laughing as she tugged you from one stall to another, insisting you try everything. By the time you sat down at the edge of the festival square, you both had your laps full of snacks, lantern light reflecting in her green eyes.

But then Mitsuri grew oddly quiet. She fiddled with the stick of her dango, cheeks already pink but deepening with something other than excitement.

“[Name]-chan…” she started softly, voice trembling. “I—I love eating delicious food. I love bright colors and laughter and warm moments. But more than all of that… I love you.”

You blinked, caught off guard, as she set her dango aside and turned fully toward you. Her hands were shaking as she dug into her sleeve, pulling out a little pink silk pouch.

When she opened it, your breath hitched. Inside was a ring—delicate gold, with tiny engravings of blooming sakura around the band, a small pink gem set at its center. It sparkled in the lantern light, but it was nothing compared to the way Mitsuri’s eyes glistened.

She dropped to her knees right there, not caring about the crowd, tears welling up as she clutched the ring like it was her entire heart.

“I know I’m a lot. I get loud, I eat too much, I talk too much, I feel everything so strongly… and sometimes I’m scared that it’s too much for people to handle.”

Her voice cracked, and she smiled through the tears, trembling but radiant.

The festival noise seemed to blur away, lanterns flickering softly around you as she held the ring out, eyes pleading but glowing with hope.

“But you—you’ve never made me feel like too much. You make me feel like I’m just right. Like I’m perfect the way I am. And I want to spend the rest of my life making you feel that way too.”

“[Name]-chan… will you marry me?”

Your yes barely left your lips before Mitsuri squealed—loudly. She threw herself into your arms, knocking over your plates of food, hugging you so tight you thought you’d burst. The crowd nearby clapped and cheered, but Mitsuri didn’t care; she kissed you over and over, tears running down her face, laughter bubbling from her chest.

She just grinned through her tears, slipping the ring onto your finger and declaring to the entire festival square:

“SHE SAID YES!!!”

The lanterns swayed, the fireworks cracked overhead, and you realized—you’d just agreed to spend forever with the brightest, sweetest, most unapologetically loving woman in the world.

───────୨ৎ───────

The garden behind the Butterfly Estate was quiet in the evening, the air rich with the scent of wisteria. Shinobu had asked you to join her, saying she wanted to “show you something.” When you arrived, she was already waiting, kneeling by the koi pond with a lantern glowing faintly beside her.

She looked up with that trademark fake smile.

“You’re late. I almost thought you’d forgotten about me.”

Her tone was light, teasing, but there was a tremble to her hands as she folded them neatly in her lap. You sat beside her, watching the koi ripple through the water. For a long while, she said nothing—just let the sound of the insects and the faint rustle of wisteria fill the silence.

Finally, her soft voice cut through the night.

“You know… when Kanae died, I thought my heart couldn’t hold anything good again. I thought I had to lock everything away—keep smiling, keep fighting, keep pretending.”

“And then… somehow, you appeared. And you were patient with me. You saw through the teasing, through the mask, and you still stayed. You made me feel like I wasn’t broken.”

Her smile faltered, eyes glistening in the lantern light.

Her hand brushed against yours, light as a butterfly’s wing, before she slowly pulled something from her sleeve: a small lacquered box, painted with purple flowers.

She opened it to reveal a delicate ring, silver and thin, with tiny engravings of wisteria climbing along the band. At the center sat a violet gem, soft and shimmering like moonlight on water.

Shinobu let out a tiny, nervous laugh, biting her lip.

Then, in an uncharacteristically vulnerable move, she shifted to her knees, lowering her head slightly as she held the ring toward you. Her voice was steady, but her eyes shone with tears she was too proud to shed.

“I’m a poison, you know. I can be sharp, biting, sometimes even cruel. But if you’ll let me… I promise to spend every day making sure my love is the antidote.”

“So… will you marry me?”

When you said yes, Shinobu exhaled like she’d been holding her breath for years. She slipped the ring onto your finger with careful, trembling hands, then leaned forward to rest her forehead against yours.

Her smile returned—gentle, teasing, but this time unmasked.

And as the wisteria swayed above you, you realized you wouldn’t dream of it.

“Good. Now you’re stuck with me forever. Don’t think you can take it back.”

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