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MidReal Story
The Cherry Blossom Hashira
Scenario:Hi there!
My name is Kie Kocho and I am part of the demon slayer corps.
I am 19 years old and I am the cherry blossom hashira.
I am nice, kind, sweet and gentle.
I like to help people, pet my snowy owl, listen to music and draw.
I have 2 sisters named Kanao and Aoi.
I have a crush on a hashira who is strong and confident.
His name is Sanemi Shinazugawa.
He is 21 years old and he is the wind hashira.
He has a younger brother named Genya Shinazgawa.
He has a crush on me because I reminded him as Kanae Kocho.
One day, I was help Tanjiro and his friends with their wounds and Sanemi wanted me to help his wounds away from the others.
Create my version of this story
Kie Kocho
gentle, and caring. Kie is deeply in love with Sanemi Shinazugawa, the Wind Hashira. Despite her feelings, she struggles with his harsh treatment and conflicting emotions. Her sisters, Kanao and Aoi, are her closest confidantes. Kie's life revolves around her duties as a demon slayer and her secret relationship with Sanemi.
Aoi Kocho
kindhearted, and nurturing. Aoi often helps care for their family's snowy owl together with Kie.
Kanao Kocho
caring, and understanding. Kanao often helps Kie deal with the emotional turmoil caused by Sanemi's actions. She provides comfort and advice to Kie during difficult times.
My name is Kie Kocho and I am part of the demon slayer corps.
I am 19 years old and I am the cherry blossom hashira.
I am nice, kind, sweet, and gentle.
I like to help people, pet my snowy owl, listen to music, draw, and bake.
I have 2 sisters named Kanao and Aoi.
I am in love with one of the hashiras.
He is strong, confident, and handsome.
His name is Sanemi Shinazugawa and he is 21 years old.
He is the wind hashira.
He has a younger brother named Genya Shinazugawa.
One day, I was helping Tanjiro and his friends with their wounds when suddenly Sanemi came to me and told me to help him treat his wounds but away from the others.
I was so happy that he wanted me to treat his wounds even though he treats me badly sometimes.
I treated his wounds and we talked a little bit.
Then after treating his wounds I left him alone and went back to continue treating Tanjiro and his friends' wounds.
I went back to the infirmary where Tanjiro and his friends were waiting for me.
Tanjiro was sitting on the bed and his friends were sitting on the chair.
I went to clean Zenitsu's arm wound.
I took the cloth and dipped it in water, then I wiped it on his wound.
I could feel someone's presence by the doorway.
Without turning, I knew that it was Sanemi because of his breathing pattern.
He had a distinct way of breathing that I had noticed before.
I applied medicine to Inosuke's bruised shoulder, then wrapped it with a bandage.
"You have to change your bandage every day so that the wound can heal faster. You also have to apply medicine on it every time you change your bandage."
My hands didn't shake at all while treating their wounds, but my heart was beating fast.
I could feel Sanemi's gaze following my hands as I moved them.
I reached for some fresh bandages, and as I did, I glanced up and saw Sanemi leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest.
His eyes were fixed on me, but his expression was unreadable.
I finished wrapping Inosuke's bandages and gathered my medical supplies into a woven basket.
I could feel Sanemi's gaze following me as I moved around the room.
The other demon slayers filed out of the infirmary, leaving only Sanemi and me behind.
The room was quiet except for the soft clink of glass bottles as I put them away.
Sanemi closed the door behind them, his footsteps deliberate as he approached my work table.
I kept my attention on arranging the bandages, but I could feel his presence drawing closer.
The scent of pine and wind that always accompanied him grew stronger.
He stopped just behind me, and in a voice barely above a whisper, he said, "We need to talk."
I set the last bottle down, then slowly turned to face him.
The medical table stood between us, a barrier that I hoped would keep him at bay.
The afternoon light streaming in through the infirmary windows highlighted the scars across his face and made his white hair seem even brighter.
I nodded for him to speak.
He took a step closer, his hand gripping the edge of the table.
His calloused palm was a stark contrast to my own smooth one, and his knuckles were white from how hard he was gripping it.
The scent of pine grew stronger, almost overpowering.
His breathing was controlled, but there was tension in his shoulders as if he were holding back words he wanted to say.
I glanced down at his forearms and noticed that he had new cuts on them that hadn't been treated yet.
"Kie, there's something you need to know," he said, his voice steady but his eyes betraying a hint of vulnerability.
I met his gaze, my heart pounding in anticipation.
"There's a reason I keep asking for your help, and it's not just because of the wounds."
I kept my eyes locked on his, my fingers tracing the edge of the medical table.
He shifted his weight, his grip on the table loosening slightly.
The fresh cuts on his arms caught my attention again, some still seeping blood.
Without thinking, I reached for a clean cloth and antiseptic.
I moved to treat his wounds, but as I did, his hand caught my wrist.
The touch sent a jolt through me, and I froze.
His calloused fingers were gentle despite his firm grip.
"You look just like her," he said finally, his voice rough.
"Like Kanae."
The weight of his words hung in the air, leaving no room for anything but silence.
I slowly withdrew my wrist from his grasp, his fingers releasing me reluctantly.
I didn't meet his gaze again, instead reaching for the antiseptic and cotton.
The familiar motions of wound care were a comfort in this moment of uncertainty.
His forearms were a mess of fresh cuts that needed attention.
I dabbed the cotton in antiseptic, the sharp medicinal smell filling the space between us.
When I touched the first wound, his muscles tensed, but he didn't pull away.
His breathing was controlled as I methodically cleaned each cut, though I could sense the struggle to stay still beneath his calm exterior.
"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
He hesitated, his eyes searching mine for understanding.
"I thought it would be easier to keep my distance, but seeing you every day... it's impossible."
I dipped the cotton in antiseptic again, this time focusing on the deepest cut on his forearm.
His skin twitched under my touch, but he didn't pull away.
The late afternoon shadows stretched across the infirmary floor, lengthening with each passing minute.
The silence between us was filled by the soft rustle of cloth and antiseptic as I worked to clean his wounds.
As I wrapped a bandage around his arm, Sanemi's free hand caught the edge of my sleeve.
"Your hands are steady, just like hers," he whispered, his voice low and rough.
I kept wrapping his arm, my movements deliberate and gentle.
Each layer of gauze seemed to bring his breathing closer to normal, though his grip on my sleeve remained tight.
"She was my sister, Kie," he confessed, his voice barely audible.
I paused, the bandage half-wrapped, as the weight of his revelation settled over me.
"That's why I couldn't stay away," he continued, his eyes searching mine for a reaction.
I secured the bandage end, my fingers lingering over the wrapped forearm.
The revelation about Kanae being his sister echoed in my mind as I studied the precise rows of white gauze.
When I lifted my eyes to meet his, Sanemi's expression had shifted.
The hardness was gone, replaced by something raw and unguarded.
His hand still gripped my sleeve, but now it was gentler, as if he were anchoring himself.
The infirmary's silence felt different now, heavy with unspoken words.
"Why didn't you ever mention her before?" I asked, my voice soft but insistent.
Sanemi's gaze dropped to the floor, his grip on my sleeve loosening.
"I thought it would hurt less if I pretended she was just a memory," he admitted, his voice thick with emotion.
I hesitated, then placed my hand on his tense shoulder.
The fabric of his uniform was rough beneath my palm, but I could feel the tension in his muscles.
He didn't pull away, so I left my hand there, giving him space to find his words.
The infirmary's silence stretched between us, punctuated only by the faint hum of the lanterns.
When Sanemi finally lifted his gaze from the floor, his eyes held a mix of pain and longing I'd never seen before.
