The sun shone warmly over the training grounds as Tanjiro stood with a faint blush on his cheeks.
Across from him, the Love Hashira, Mitsuri Kanroji, stood radiating cheerfulness. Her presence was as heartwarming as her vibrant pink-and-green hair.
"You're doing so well, Tanjiro!" she cheered, spinning with grace as she demonstrated a particularly flexible form.
Tanjiro panted, smiling. "Thank you, Kanroji-san! Your movements are really elegant…"
Mitsuri chuckled. "You know, when I first joined the Corps, I thought I wouldn't belong… I was so different. But Obanai-kun…" she giggled, "he gave me these special socks to match my haori. He's so thoughtful."
Tanjiro laughed. "That sounds just like him."
—
Later that evening…
Iguro Obanai sat in a quiet room, his snake Kaburamaru curled around his neck.
A letter arrived.
He recognized the handwriting immediately—Mitsuri's.
As he read her words—how much she enjoyed training Tanjiro—his eye twitched.
Kaburamaru hissed in agreement. Obanai's aura grew heavy.
"…Tanjiro Kamado…"
He stood.
And waited.
—
The next morning…
Tanjiro arrived, still smiling from yesterday's training.
Obanai stood before him, arms crossed, aura deadly.
"Training starts now," he said sharply. "No breaks. No mercy."
From the first move, it was clear—Obanai wasn't holding back.
Serpentine movements, brutal precision, relentless pressure—Tanjiro struggled to keep up, but he endured.
Finally, during a pause, Obanai spoke.
"I was born into a cursed family," he said, not looking at him. "They raised me in a cage. All for their own gain. I killed to escape that fate."
Tanjiro nodded solemnly.
"I fight because I want to protect what's precious to me," Obanai continued. "That's why I became a Hashira."
Training ended after a final, sharp clash of blades.
Obanai stepped back, eye glinting behind his bandages.
"…Kamado," he said coldly, "stay away from Kanroji."
Tanjiro blinked. "Eh?!"
Obanai turned.
"…Or I'll make your next training session your last."