An Luo lived for twenty-four years without ever having a family.
She grew up in an orphanage, studied on scholarships, and died suddenly at three in the morning, collapsed over her thesis.
The first person to smile at her after she transmigrated was Kanae Kocho, the Flower Hashira.
The first person to trust her without reservation was Giyu, the Water Hashira, who would hand her a bamboo canteen after finishing his late-night sword practice.
The first person to call her a "friend" was Hoshino Hotaru, whose face bore an old scar but whose smile shone like the sun.
"An Luo, is there somewhere you'd like to go someday?"
"No."
"Then come with me."
The day Hotaru died in front of her, An Luo was still clutching a Wisteria flower bookmark.
She inherited Hotaru's will, and from then on, every swing of her sword was for both of them.
And from that day onward, Giyu never left her side, not even for a moment.
It wasn't duty. It was instinct.
She once thought she was only an outsider in this world.
Then she realized that someone lived for her, someone died for her, and someone had always stood just one step behind her.
He was not good with words, but he understood every look she gave him.
During the days when she lost her sense of touch, he sat beside her, watching over her night after night.
He didn't say he loved her. He didn't say he was afraid.
He simply stayed.
