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⌒➴。NOTES:
• Requested by @demonifromfutur • Kochou Shinobu X Reader • Female reader • Angst • No manga spoilers • 3rd POV
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LOVE NOTES ▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂
(Y/N) had never feared death, it had come with her job as a demon slayer and it was bound to happen eventually- in or out of her job. (Y/N) would fight for her life when she had to, she still held so much potential. She was so close to becoming a Hashira, and being able to stand as equals with her lover.
She was so close, maybe then Shinobu would realize (Y/N) isn't a little girl anymore. The only thing that the both of them lacked was communication, Shinobu seemed to see (Y/N) as her cute little kouhai.
The butterfly estate was quiet, rooms filled with the soft breathing of unconscious patients. Nights were booked full for Shinobu and most of the butterfly estate employees, changing out laundry and refilling medicine. Every night Shinobu had a ritual she performed religiously.
She didn't really believe in an upper being, but she'd take little sheets of paper (Y/N) had written for her and hold them to her chest and pray.
Pray for your safety, pray for your wellness. Imagining what it would be like standing next to you now, imagining her lips on (Y/N)'s. Dreaming of being in her arms. Her chest was warm and fluffy but at the same time her heart would race.
'Did you eat today? Go eat some more, for fun!' or 'Did you know that your body is like 75% water? Go drink some water!' were scribbled on the scraps of paper. But, she held one specifically close to her.
"I don't think you understand how much I love you."
Shinobu reads those words in her darling's voice every time her eyes skim over the words. The image of being held by her, kissing her, basking in her presence. Missing (Y/N) and anticipating her return.
"(Y/N) (L/N) passed away, poison from an upper moon ruptured her organs, nobody knows how long she's been dead. I just now found her."
Pathetically holding her limp body, maggots spilling out of (Y/N)'s ears and the corner of her mouth. Shinobu has seen many dead people, sick people, but this wasn't (Y/N). Where was the smile, the flirting and the bad poetry? This wasn't (Y/N).
The smell was sickening, the smell of Shinobu's lovers' rotting flesh as flies and worms crawled under the skin. Her lips chapped, her eyes derived from life, and her heart eaten by flies and worms. First Kanae, and now this? What kind of sick joke was this?
Shinobu wasn't plagued by anger, but grief and sorrow. The nights that were spent writing notes to each other, or braiding flowers and grass under the moon were gone. Permanently.
She'd give anything to listen to (Y/N)'s silly poetry, or her complaints and rants. Anything to hear her voice. She was right in the grass picking the petals off of the yellow dandelions not even two weeks ago.
"I don't think you understand how much I miss you." Shinobu whispers into her scraps of people, trying not to ruin the ink with her tears.
