Butterflies' Dance - [A Kimetsu No Yaiba Full Story]

Epilogue

   She was taking off her pointes.

   How long had it been since she put them on ? She forgot how it could hurt.

   The place was already emptying itself.

 "Long time no see, whiner."

   She looked up.

 "Sanemi ! How have you been ?" She inquired with a smile, soon realizing it was most inappropriate.

 - I have been holding on. As much as I could." He looked behind him, almost as if she would be there. "I held on."

 - That is good to hear." Her soft tone and huge eyes reminded him of hers.

 - Nevertheless, I do not think I will be able to be a main character in ballet again." His veiny hand ran on his thigh. "An injury. I should avoid every extreme activities."

 - Oh no ! Was it too much, tonight ?"

   He chuckled, sitting on a box, in front of his interlocutor :
 "No. Thanks to that tyrant and her hellish trainings."

 - She looks more and more like Kanae, does she not ?"

 - Yeah, she does." His heart ached. He had done so much work on himself, alone. He should just accept it. "Grief, as hard as it may be, is there to anchor us in life, remind us that it is not eternal, that we should treasure every of our moments here." He exhaled. That little chubby girl, always too cheerful for her own good, had grown. "So... Anyone in mind ?"

   Her cheeks flushed. Typical, not revealing.

 "Wh–What do you mean ?"

 - Are you seriously going to make me believe that the woman you became, you who were addicted to romance, and always cried–"

 - The stories were moving. And most of the time you took my books from my hands, I must say !"

 - Yeah, right." He smiled at the memory. "If I had not been there, you would not have noticed Prince Charming trying to give you flowers."

 - Flowers were always for the Kocho sisters."

 - And what happened ? He always came for your part. Where is he ? I do not see a ring at your finger."

   Self-conscious, she rubbed her digits on the place she dreamed of being adorned with a stone.

 "He was working here. He left."

 - Seriously ? Was it because of you ?" He rolled up his sleeves. "I swear if I see his awkward face, and his mismatched eyes, I am–"

 - No. Shinobu's attack was an accelerator of what was to happen." She gripped the shoe, trembling. Eyes overflowed with tears she trained to contain, she choked : "I loved him."

 - Mitsuri..."

 - An–and, I think he loved me too." She reached and took out a paper from her bustier and handed it.

   The paper in itself was rolled into a ball. He carefully opened it, not wanting to tear it, like he did with her books. The ink was mostly erased, words crossed out, or having been in contact with a liquid. In big, bold letters a confession could be read :
"I love you, Mitsuri."

   There were no more words, but those conveyed an intense message, powerful.

 "I am sorry." His voice was hoarse, according to her feelings.

 - Excuse me." A voice interrupted. "A gentleman wanted me to give those to a ballerina."

   In his arms a massive bouquet. Exchanging a confused glance, they asked the name.