Love Hashira's Love (OC Pov)

The sun hung high in the sky, bathing the training grounds in golden light. The air was filled with the scent of fresh blossoms, a stark contrast to the grueling physical exertion happening within the Love Hashira's domain.

I stood at the center of the field, rolling my shoulders, testing the strength of my limbs. I wasn't at full power yet—but I was whole. And that was enough.

Mitsuri Kanroji stood before me, hands on her hips, a bright smile lighting up her face. Her usual bubbly energy was infectious, but I knew better than to mistake it for weakness. She was strong—unbelievably strong. And this training would not be easy.

The other slayers who had come for training today sat on the sidelines, some stretching, others already exhausted from earlier drills. My training, however, was separate. A personal session, since I had missed most of the initial Hashira training due to my injuries.

Mitsuri beamed.

"I'm so happy you're better! I was super worried when I heard you were hurt! But now we can finally train together! Are you ready?"

I nodded, tightening the grip on my katana.

She giggled, twirling her own blade effortlessly in her hand.

"We're here to make you stronger. But let's have fun while we're at it, okay?"

I didn't need the reminder. But I'm not sure about this "Fun"

I had already decided—no more falling behind. No more weaknesses.

No matter how much this training would hurt, I would endure it.

Because I wasn't just surviving anymore.

I am here to become stronger.

And this time, I wouldn't be doing it alone.

To my surprise, I was asked to change into this pink... thingy—A leotard, apparently.

I stared at the outfit in my hands.

A pink leotard.

Silence stretched between Me and Lady Kanroji, who simply smiled expectantly, hands clasped together in excitement. The other slayers—who had already been through this—looked away, some hiding small smirks, others offering sympathetic glances.

I looked back at the Love Hashira.

"…What is this, Hashira-sama?"

"It's your training uniform, of course! All my trainees wear them! It helps with movement and flexibility!"

I blinked. Once. Twice. Processing.

Mitsuri's training was already known for being… intense. But this?

I hadn't expected this.

I opened my mouth, then closed it. Then tried again.

"…This is unnecessary, Love Hashira-sama."

Mitsuri pouted.

"Ehhh? But it'll help you move better! Plus, it's super cute, don't you think?"

I didn't answer. I just stared at her, hoping—praying—that she was joking.

She was not.

The Love Hashira's training was not just about endurance and combat. It was about agility, flexibility, and stamina—pushed to the absolute limit. And apparently, that required a pink leotard.

I sighed, pressing my fingers against my temple.

I had fought against impossible odds. I had survived wounds that should have killed me. I had trained under ruthless conditions.

And yet, somehow—This felt like my greatest challenge yet.

Mitsuri practically squealed in delight as she admired me in the leotard.

I wore it, yes.

She even gave me a yellow bow to match, she thinks my long hair that I always puts up, pairs well with it.

"Kyaaa! You look absolutely adorable! The bow is perfect too!"

It fit well, sure, but I wasn't used to something this… form-fitting. This bright. This—

***Cute***.

I wasn't sure how to feel about that.

The other slayers, who had been in preparation for training, turned to glance at me. Some of them quickly looked away, pretending to be very focused on their exercises. Others exchanged quiet whispers, probably relieved they weren't the only ones who had gone through this experience.

Lady Kanroji, on the other hand, was absolutely glowing.

"You should wear cute things more often! It really suits you, you know? And look at your hair! So pretty!"

I sighed, feeling the warmth creep up my neck. I'm not used to this kind of attention. Compliments like these weren't something I heard often—since I lost him.

And yet, despite my initial discomfort… I can't bring myself to be annoyed.

Her energy was infectious. Her excitement was genuine. There was no mockery, no teasing—just pure admiration.

I sighed, again. But this time, I finally relaxed—just a little.

"I'm not used to this, Hashira-sama." I admitted, voice softer than usual.

She beamed. "Then we'll just have to change that!"

I'm not sure if that was a promise or a threat. But before I could protest, she grabbed my hands and practically dragged me to the center of the training room.

"Okay, okay! No more stalling—let's get started! A simply fun dance routine before we stretch the stress out of your muscles!"

I didn't have time to dwell on my appearance any longer. Training had begun.

And whether I like it or not—I'm going to survive the Love Hashira's training.

One way and another.

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