The period before Hashira training was a wonderful time because the absence of demons granted the demon slayers a peace where they could catch up on all the life they'd missed living. For Mitsuri this meant packing her things to spend a night with Shinobu, and as she was preparing to leave, her dad said, "Have fun, sugar! You should get some treats from the bakery near Shinobu. Your mom brought the girls some of their stuff before, and they loved it. She said Shinobu mentioned they won't serve her though?"

"I wonder why. I'll stop by then. Bye, Dad!" With that she entered a car waiting upon her, and after directing the chauffeur to the bakery, she chatted with the baker as she made her purchase. Seizing this chance to sate her curiosity, she guided the conversation to where she could say, "I'm heading to the Butterfly Estate after this. Have you seen it? It's the big house on the hill."

The baker's expression darkened. "Don't go there. You visit Kochou, and you might never come back out."

"Why's that?"

"She's a witch. Every woman in that damned family is. She's probably teaching all the girls there her craft. That place is a whole coven."

"Oh! How... interesting!"

"You don't believe me? I've known her family since her parents were still alive. Her mom was beautiful to where people would stop and stare, but the daughters? Plain, scrawny things. But then their parents died, and suddenly the older sister becomes stunning. Tell me how you make acne, frizzy hair, and a crooked nose disappear overnight. Tell me how you magically get curves, lush lips, and a perfect face. Same thing happened with the younger sister."

"It sounds like they just grew into their features and learned how to care for their appearances."

"Nah because then it would've been gradual. I'm talking a literal overnight change. There's got to be some unsavory secret behind it all."

Mitsuri thought this was nonsensical slander, so she ended the conversation and then returned to the car to complete her journey. She and Shinobu were perpetually bemoaning how they rarely got to see each other, so to finally have a chance to spend a night together so thrilled her that she sprinted into the house, down the hall, and straight to Shinobu's office. There she was! They smiled at each other, and then Mitsuri squealed and embraced Shinobu, who gasped, "I'm excited to see you too, but you're crushing me."

"Sorry! Look, I brought treats!"

"Aww, thanks. We can eat them after dinner."

"Actually I was thinking it'd be fun if we got dressed up and went somewhere fancy."

"That's quite the plan."

"Well we hardly ever get to do anything together, so we should go all out!"

"Then why don't you ask Iguro to 'go all out' with you?" Shinobu's tone had its usual cordial timbre, but Mitsuri could've sworn that there was an inkling of... venom? Annoyance? No... it was bitterness.

She disregarded it though and replied, "He doesn't like things like that," and then added humorously, "Guys can be so lame."

Shinobu snorted, and Mitsuri beamed at having successfully restored Shinobu's mood. With an agenda in place, they took to getting ready, and as they preened themselves a moth alighted on the window. Mitsuri remarked, "How pretty! Whenever I see a moth or butterfly, I think of you. You should've picked a cuter title like the Butterfly Hashira. It would've matched Kanae."

"I appreciate all insects though, even the ugly ones. Fleas, cockroaches, flies." Shinobu slapped the counter, and when she lifted her hand, a fly lay beneath. It must've been pregnant because maggots began crawling from its ruptured body, and Mitsuri gagged and shrieked, "Who kills flies with their bare hands?! See what's happening now!"

Shinobu said playfully, "You know I'm gross," and then went to retrieve cleaning supplies. In the meantime Mitsuri completed her makeup and then sat idly, looking around the room until her gaze fell again onto the larvae with their pallid, squirming bodies. She grimaced and turned away to find a nicer view, and she spotted a photo frame set face-down that she hadn't seen before. It was of the Kochou family: mother, father, and two daughters. Mitsuri judged Kanae and Shinobu as adorable, and then she noticed an odd detail: the sisters' thin lips. But she'd met Kanae before her death, and this wasn't congruous with her appearance as Mitsuri remembered it. Her musings were interrupted though by Shinobu returning, and after the mess was tidied, Mitsuri commented, "I thought flies laid eggs."

"Most of them do but not flesh flies."

"Flesh flies...?" Even the name sounded repulsive, but before any further questions could form, there came a small, impatient huff from Shinobu, who was wiping off her own lipstick. She sighed, "Whenever I try to do a precise lip like yours, it's always asymmetrical. I end up just giving up and dabbing the color on with my finger."

"Try using a brush. Here, I'll do it for you." Mitsuri moved nearer, and then she wavered upon realizing what she'd done. Shinobu was divine to behold up close; her skin was smooth as marble, as unblemished as fresh snow, and her beauty was so great that it was almost... unnatural. Mitsuri praised, "You're so gorgeous!"

"Sounds like we have something in common."

Mitsuri reddened to where she almost matched the lipstick she was holding, and she nearly jumped from her chair when Shinobu lightly touched her arm. Shinobu laughed, "If you keep sitting there, then all the restaurants will be closed by the time we get into town."

"Right! Ok! Here I go." As Mitsuri painted, there was the distinctive spicy, sweet aroma of wisteria, and when she realized it was coming from Shinobu, she complimented, "Your perfume is nice."

"Hm? I'm not wearing any." Perhaps the scent was from her poison? That couldn't be right though because Mitsuri could smell it from her hair, her skin, and even on her breath. The flower's presence seemed to permeate Shinobu until it was seeping from her pores, and Mitsuri would've inquired about it if weren't for how she was mesmerized by the lusciousness of Shinobu's lips. There was a shapely cupid's bow, a vivid color, and most attractive of all: a healthy plumpness that was exactly the right degree to match her features. After the last trace of the brush, Mitsuri sat back to admire her handiwork, and then there came a nagging thought that the mouth she was viewing looked nothing like the one in the photo. She tried to banish her unease, and her imagination instead strayed to the notion of how soft that mouth would feel if she pressed her own against it. This flustered her immensely, and to disguise this, she said, "Let me fix this corner."

As she carefully wiped the edge of her work, there came a movement so subtle that she nearly missed it: Shinobu's lower lip rippled. It wasn't the characteristic twitch of facial muscles; it was like something had moved beneath the skin's surface, something reminiscent of the maggots from earlier... Before she could address it though, Shinobu said, "All done? Let's go then."

The problem with expensive restaurants is that the price is inversely proportional to the quantity of food: the higher the cost, the smaller the serving. This was terrible for Mitsuri to be stuck with a hefty bill and a barely filled stomach. She didn't complain though because she was the one who'd proposed this idea, so she bore it silently until Shinobu said, "I can hear your stomach still rumbling."

"Sorry, it's just—! Well you know how I am."

"Don't apologize for that. It's what makes you as strong as you are." The sincerity of the comment pierced through to Mitsuri's heart, and as she fumbled for what to say, Shinobu suggested, "Buffet?"

It was a loss for Shinobu to dine at buffets, but Mitsuri more than made up for it to where the staff became somewhat frightened of her. She noticed it and said, "Oh no, I think I'm scaring them."

"Lean into it. Go crazy. Skip the utensils, and shove your face and hands into your food."

"Shinobu, no!"

"Threaten to eat the children."

"Shinobu!" Mitsuri's laughter was contagious, and they doubled over with mirth to where they were soon wheezing and gasping. They seldom got to laugh this hard, much less together, and when they righted themselves and saw the tears in each other's eyes, the joyful lines and happy flush on one another's visages, a tenderness saturated the moment. Mitsuri said, "I like when the real you appears. When you get mad or when you become paralyzed with laughter, I'm glad I get to see it."

"It's funny. I've maintained the act for so long that it's become easy, but with you it's different." There was a pause. "You're important to me, so it pains me when you love everyone and everything but criticize yourself. Promise me that you'll save some for you."

There was a heartfelt affection in Shinobu's tone, and it moved Mitsuri to where she took Shinobu's hand and answered, "Alright but promise me something too: take your own advice because you're guilty of the same crime." Shinobu's eyebrows rose briefly in surprise, and then she smiled, laid her other hand atop Mitsuri's, and said, "Fine, you got me."

There was something troubled in her smile though as she said, "Whenever we're together, it makes me remember who I am, not a demon slayer or a Hashira, just a girl who wants a normal life." She withdrew her hands from Mitsuri and then continued, "If something happens to us, if we drift apart or stop talking one day, then know that I cherish the time we had together. I don't look forward to anything like I do your letters, phone calls, and visits. You're matchless and extraordinary, and it was and is a blessing to know you."

Mitsuri blushed and covered her own mouth, and when she detected the scent of wisteria on her hand, she understood that it'd come from Shinobu's touch. The pieces of the puzzle were starting to join together, and she gradually sensed the grim implication in Shinobu's words. To conceal this, she said cheerfully, "You talk like we're destined to separate. You're not planning something dangerous, are you?" There was no answer, and she demanded, "You'd tell me if you were doing something reckless, right?"

Shinobu started to speak, but she was interrupted by the table being jarred severely enough that it toppled their cups. A decent person would've said, "Sorry," or, "Pardon me," but the perpetrator glared at Shinobu. It was the baker that Mitsuri had spoken with previously, and after curling his lips scornfully, he returned to his table like nothing had happened.

Mitsuri had seen Shinobu angry before, but the boiling rage in the latter's features reached a new height. She pointed after him, muttered something in an undertone, and then resumed her cool demeanor to say, "What a jerk. Are you ok? I'll get you another napkin."

"It's fine. I'll—" From the baker's table there came an exclamation of disgust. He'd been eating cutlets, but now there was a gruesome scene upon his plate: he'd cut into an unseen abscess within the meat, and pus was pouring forth. The wait staff apologized profusely and attempted to mollify him, but he ignored them and shouted at Shinobu, "It's her fault! Witch! Monster!"

Shinobu scoffed, "Monster? And yet you excused your brother's actions toward my sister."

"He's dead because of your wretched sister's overreaction!"

"He shouldn't have put her in a position where she had to react in the first place."

"If you love her so much, then go to hell with her!" In another setting Shinobu would've easily evaded his strike, but the crowded restaurant obstructed her. She dodged the brunt of the blow, but it still clipped her mouth. This enraged Mitsuri, and she grabbed the man's arm and swung him so quickly that his feet left the ground. He was flung out the door, and it was only when he was lying on the ground unconscious with a dislocated arm did she realized that she'd lost control of her temper and strength. The other patrons stared fearfully, and she and Shinobu took this as a cue to pay and leave. The journey home was silent as Shinobu nursed her split lip, and Mitsuri worried that their night had been ruined. Once they were in Shinobu's office though, this worry was dispelled by Shinobu joking, "Well. The people got dinner and a show."

"I suspected that he was weird when I talked to him. When I was buying stuff from him, I kept thinking, 'One of the sisters rejected you, huh? That's why you're so bitter.' It turns out that it wasn't even him who got rejected."

"Yeah his brother was that type of guy who refused the word 'no' if a woman said it. Stupidity must run in the family."

"Right?! All that just because you pointed at him! What were you saying under your breath though?"

"I said I hope he shits himself."

Mitsuri guffawed, "Shinobu!"

"Sorry, was that vulgar? I'll rephrase it: I hope he has a failure of sphincter containment." This was even more hilarious to Mitsuri, and her laughter infected Shinobu, who winced and said, "Ow, it hurts to smile."

"Oh, sorry! I love being around you because nobody makes me laugh as much as you."

"I love you too."

Mitsuri's mind slowed, stuttered, and then finally processed the words properly, and she would've started screaming if it weren't for how Shinobu sat before her as calm and pleasant as always. In a voice strained with suppressed excitement, Mitsuri chirped, "Let's clean you up then!" She tried to imitate Shinobu's nonchalance, but this was difficult because she could feel Shinobu's gaze on her, watching with a knowing twinkle. After Shinobu wiped the blood from herself, Mitsuri said, "You missed some. I'll get it for you."

She tilted Shinobu's chin up and rubbed gently at the specks, and when the intimacy of the gesture dawned on her, she reflexively glanced upwards. Shinobu's eyes returned contact, and in them burned a quiet fervor that made Mitsuri feel like Shinobu could see to the deepest part of her. It was simultaneously a temptation and a request; it was an invitation to make a move. The distance between them was tiny; it'd take nothing to close it, to taste the iron of the injury, and although Mitsuri's pulse raced eagerly, her nerves ultimately won. Agitated by her own cowardice, she rambled, "I should've smacked him toothless! What was he thinking behaving like that in front of all those people?! Does it hurt much? Is there something, some cream or treatment to improve the healing? Maybe... try..." Her voice faded because there again was that faint wriggling in Shinobu's lip, and it reminded her of what had been said earlier about how the Insect Hashira valued all insects, from the loveliest to the lowliest. And then, a horrible spectacle: a pale, segmented mass momentarily surfaced in the wound and then vanished again. What was that?! A grub? A worm? Surely a trick of the light...

Mitsuri now had her answer regarding the fullness of those bewitching lips, and she blanched. Shinobu, however, just giggled, "How about you kiss it better?"