Drabbles || GiyuShino

morning reverie

--🦋--

The first rays of dawn painted the sky in hues of pink and gold. I stood on the rooftop, my breath visible in the crisp morning air. The world was quiet, as if holding its breath before the day began.

Shinobu Kocho.

Her name lingered on my tongue, a secret whispered to the wind. The Insect Hashira—the woman who danced with death, whose laughter was like the flutter of butterfly wings. She was a puzzle, a contradiction—a tempest wrapped in silk.

But it wasn't just her poison techniques that fascinated me. It was the way she teased me during missions, the stolen glances when she thought I wasn't looking, and the warmth of her hand when she saved me from a demon's fangs.

---

The Banter

Our conversations were like sparrows darting through the branches. Her words were sharp, yet playful. She called me the "Lonely Water Pillar," and I retaliated by dubbing her the "Chatty Insect." But beneath the banter, there was something more—a connection that defied words.

Once, during a moonlit night, we sat side by side. The moon hung low, casting shadows on her delicate features. She spoke of dreams and regrets, her voice a melody that echoed in my chest. I listened, my heart aching with understanding.

---

The Unspoken

Shinobu never asked about my past. She didn't pry into the scars that crisscrossed my soul. Instead, she shared stories of her own—a childhood lost, a sister's sacrifice. Her vulnerability was a rare gift, and I guarded it as fiercely as my blade.

During battles, she fought with grace, her katana slicing through demons like silk. And when she stumbled, I was there—steady, silent, catching her before she fell. Her eyes held gratitude, but there was something else—a question she dared not ask.

---

The Morning Revelation

As the sun climbed higher, I realized. I loved Shinobu Kocho—the woman who danced with death, who wore a mask of indifference but bled compassion. Her laughter was a beacon in the darkness, and her touch ignited a fire within me.

Today, I would tell her. I would unravel the threads of my heart and offer them to her. Because sometimes, love blooms in the quiet hours—the early morning confessions, the shared silence, and the whispers of the heart.

---

The End

And so, as the world stirred awake, I descended from the rooftop. The day awaited, but my heart carried the weight of a thousand unspoken words. Shinobu would be there, her laughter like sunlight breaking through the clouds.

And perhaps, just perhaps, she would see beyond the water's surface and find the reflection of her own heart in mine.

--🌊--