𝓡𝓮𝓶𝓮𝓶𝓫𝓮𝓻 𝓜𝓮 [ ObaMitsu fanfic/ R-(M)] Kimetsu No Yaiba

Chapter 24 - Silent Echoes

Chapter Song: Sleeperstar - "I Was Wrong"

( I heard this song over and over and read the lyrics and felt it matched perfectly with Obanai, i hope you like the song and chapter!)
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A few days had passed, and Obanai found himself drifting through his life like a ghost, trapped in a quiet, hollow routine. He hadn't spoken to Mitsuri since their last text. Though he longed to reach out, to hear her voice, he held back. Giving her space felt like the right thing to do, even though the silence between them gnawed at him, leaving him feeling emptier with each passing day.

The emptiness of his room was suffocating. Without her soft giggles echoing in the corners, without the scent of her lingering on his sheets, everything felt cold and dull. The nights were the hardest. He missed the warmth of her body beside his, the comfort of their late-night talks when they'd share secrets under the glow of the moonlight. Now, all that remained was silence—heavy, oppressive silence.

To distract himself, Obanai busied his mind with college assignments, pushing through each task like a machine. The monotony of lectures and papers kept him from spiraling too deep, but the emptiness always found a way back in. He worked out more than usual, throwing himself into long hours at the gym, running until his legs ached, lifting weights until his muscles burned. It was better than lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking of her. He even cleaned every corner of his apartment, scrubbing the floors, organizing his desk, but none of it filled the void.

Later that week, after yet another meaningless workout, he found himself standing in front of his TV, mindlessly flipping through channels. That's when he remembered. Mitsuri had insisted he watch The Notebook weeks ago. He had put it off, claiming he wasn't the type for romance movies. But now, with her gone, it felt like the only thing he could do.

He sat down and started the movie, hoping it would serve as a temporary escape. But halfway through, he had to pause it. The love between the characters, their fierce passion, their fights, and how they always found their way back to each other—every scene hit too close to home. It was a painful reminder of what he had with Mitsuri, and how much he missed her.

Unable to finish the movie, Obanai turned off the TV and collapsed onto his bed, lying there in the dark. The room felt even emptier than before. He grabbed his phone, hoping that the distraction of social media would help ease the ache. As he scrolled through Instagram, his thumb moving mindlessly up and down the screen, a familiar face popped up on his feed—Kanae had posted a story.

Obanai almost skipped past it, but something made him stop. In the background, there she was—Mitsuri. His heart squeezed at the sight of her. She was laughing, her bright, carefree smile lighting up the room. It hurt to see her so happy without him, but what caught his eye wasn't just her smile—it was the silver bracelet on her wrist. His bracelet.

His gaze flicked to his bedside table, where it should've been. He hadn't noticed it was missing, but seeing it on her wrist brought a strange sense of relief. She still had a piece of him with her. He knew it wasn't just a bracelet. It was a connection, a reminder that despite the silence, despite the distance, a part of him was still with her.

A small, bittersweet smile tugged at the corner of his lips. She hadn't let go completely.

Without thinking, Obanai clicked onto Mitsuri's profile, scrolling through her photos, going back further and further. He found himself looking at pictures from before they had started talking, back when they were strangers who only knew each other in passing. Her smile, her energy, her kindness—it was all there, untouched by the pain they now carried. He missed her more than he could bear.

The longer he stared at her pictures, the more exhaustion began to weigh him down. His body felt heavy, his eyes drooping as sleep crept in. Before he knew it, the phone slipped from his hand, falling silently onto the bed as Obanai drifted off, his mind tangled in the ache of missing her.