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Love is like falling. Loving Mitsuri Kanroji is like flying, she’s beautiful. Kind. Supports and respects everyone she’s around. She’s strong enough to slay even the strongest of demons, and could probably lift both Uzui and Kyojuro while running a mountain.
He’s felt this way for the longest time, so long it feels that he knew her before all the pain and suffering from his family. Before Kyojuro and the other Rengokus. Before he became a hashira. Before she’d stumbled into him, crying about being lost. Before they’d started exchanging letters of how she was so proud of her near mastery of the rope prototype of her sword. How he’d managed to teach Kabarumaru a new trick, and that he felt like him and Sanemi were truly becoming friends. How she’d managed to rank up. How he was confused about Tomioka’s actions and how he spoke, how it angered him and that he also just wanted to hug him, to tell him everything was alright, to understand him. How she’d managed had told him to maybe give him space, but to be gentle with him.
He loves her. So much it almost hurt. It twists and turns inside him, hard enough for his vision to just be full of her. How whenever someone says ‘love’ the only thing he can think of is her blinding smiles and she way that when you’re around her for too long your chest starts to numb from being happy for too long. How he’ll never see pink and green in any other shade than her’s.
She’s everywhere, and he can’t even be upset to see her face in anything. He’s drowning, he knows. He’s ashamed, embarrassed that this feeling blossomed into this obsession. Yet the tree’s in front of him and the leaves are falling and it’s just that perfect shade of pink and-.
Seasons change, summer, autumn, winter, easter. He remembers the heat, how it felt. How and sticky, his sword hilt glued to his calloused hands by his sweat alone. The days where hot, the nights hotter. Feeling so stupid after her some warm socks for her birthday in the middle of this dryness. That it was twelve days after her birthday when they had decided to go for dinner because he had had a mission and didn’t want to cook, she’d came up to his exhausted state and asked if he’d join her for dinner. Even so, her face when he handed them to her. She never seemed to ever mind, she smiled so bright he thought he’d go blind. She still wears them, and cried when they once got ripped. Only stopped once he’d sown them back up. She still cried after that as well, hugging him as if he’d saved her family from demons.
She’s seen his face before, all of it. The scar, his mismatched eyes, pale skin. She never said anything, never stared, insulted, hated him. She’s the love hashira for a reason, and she fits the role perfectly.
He’d told Kyojuro once about how he feels about Mitsuri. All he had said in reply was ‘You’d better tell her soon, before some other man sweeps her off her feet.’ He supposes that that was Kyojuro’s way of saying that he should just man up and face her, in the Kyojuro kind of way.
Sanemi told him to suck it up, that love isn’t for the demon slayer core and it’ll make him weak.
Shinobu told him to embrace it and tell her, that she needs someone to love her the way he does.
Nowadays, the snow is stained red. There isn’t really a chance to tell her anymore. She’s saying there, on his lap, in his arms. Something that he’d dreamed of constantly this past year. It’s not that type of situation though. There’s blood everywhere, dripping from his face which can no longer see. Gushing from his could be mistresses’ no-longer arms.
He hears her cries, hears ongoing fighting in the background, hears shouting and screaming and maybe it’s him because he can’t see and he knows what’s happened to Mitsuri and that the fight is still going on but Misturi is—.
‘I love you Obanai! I really do! And I’m so, so sorry I didn’t tell you. I’m sorry! This is all my fault! I should have been stronger, better. This, this isn’t. I’m so sorry!’
He freezes, because in that moment, in all this chaos. It’s like it’s all not there, that it’s just her and him and that he can see her. That there in a forest after a mission together.
’I don’t want to die! Obanai I don’t want you to die! We, this isn’t our end. We’ll stay strong, right? We have to! A-as demon slayers!’
He feels her shiver, and the hot puddle of tears in his shoulder sleeve. He’s not in the forest arguing about who’ll pay for tonight’s celebration dinner. They’re in the infinity castle, on the brink of death. With maybe only half an hour left if they’re lucky.
’Mitsuri, it’s alright to be scared. I- I am too. Yet no matter what happens I’ll be here with you okay? I’ll be here by your side and-. And I love you too.’
’W-what!? I- Obanai, Obi! What do you mean? You l-love me!?’
’Yes. Yes I do, very much so. Mitsuri you are my light. My sun that I look up to. My god, my divinity that I love unconditionally. The stars in my sky and the colours I see in everything. My world and my moon I love you so.’
‘I-I.. I love you so as well! You’re my darkness in the night keeping me tethered to the soil. My sunflower and Dandelion’s. My Tulip and Blueberry, Buttercups I pick. Obanai I love you!’
She laughs, happy and content. Despite the pool of blood that’s cooling at our knees. She’s crying still. Yet I can’t blame her, I would be too if my eyes would still let me.
’Mitsuri, please tell me that in our next life. If free of demons and free of our murder. Would you even think it right of me to ask to court you?’
She's quiet for a moment, his breath hitches for a moment because why would he even ask that?
’Yes, I would think it right. Right that I would accept? To not be alone in my next path and to choose to take it with you.’
‘Well..’ He staggers, leaning down and tightening his hold. ‘That is what I would want. To spend all my days with a lady as beautiful as you.’
She never replied after that. And I never really remembered anything after that, all I remember was the love and admiration I felt in that moment. And that out of anyone to spend my last breaths with. Mitsuri Kanroji, I was more than happy to spend it with you.
~~
It’s now summer 20XX and he follows his now scrambling fiancée whom is flitting anxiously around the cafe with a buzzing nervous energy rambling on and on about their soon to be wedding.
She trails behind her slowly, cleaning off any dirty surfaces and picking bits off the floor. Cheeks dusted red and a soft smile on his face.