Love Hashira's Love 2 (OC Pov)

Despite the initial awkwardness, I found myself... enjoying it.

My body was already flexible, trained to move with precision and agility. But the atmosphere—light, warm, and encouraging—was something entirely new.

Lady Kanroji led the exercises with enthusiasm, her voice full of praise and excitement with every movement.

"Wow! You're already so flexible! That's amazing!"

I wasn't used to such open admiration from someone out of my family. Praise, for me, had always been measured, calculated—given only when necessary. But here?

Lady Kanroji gave it freely, without hesitation or expectation.

For once, training didn't feel like an endless battle. It wasn't about survival or discipline. It was … movement. Strength. Growth.

And Hellish Pain for the unfortunate some...

After an intense but oddly enjoyable training session, the Love Hashira excitedly gathered everyone for a meal. The moment she mentioned she had cooked, the exhausted trainees suddenly found a second wind, quickly making their way to the dining area.

Me, however, hesitated for a moment.

It has been years since the last time I sat down to eat with a group like this. Most of my meals were quick, quiet, and solitary. But before I could even consider slipping away, Lady Kanroji had already linked her arm with mine, practically beaming with excitement.

"*You have to try my cooking! Too bad my bees aren't ready with new honey yet. But I made plenty of food for everyone, so eat as much as you like*!"

I sighed softly, but there was no real protest as she led me to the table.

The food was—**Warm**.

**Not just in temperature, but in feeling**.

It was different from the meals I had eaten before—some made in haste, others eaten in exhaustion, some shared in heavy silence. This meal was filled with conversation, laughter, and a kind of lightness I wasn't used to.

She chatted with everyone, **effortlessly bringing life to the table**. The other trainees, though tired, smiled and talked between bites. Even the smallest gestures—passing dishes, sharing portions, teasing remarks—felt strange... but I'm not complaining.

I took a bite. The flavors were rich, made with clear effort and care. A home-cooked meal, made with love. I didn't say much, but the Love Hashira caught my expression anyway. She smiled knowingly.

"*Delicious, right*? ***Food always tastes better when you share***."

I looked down at my plate, then at the table full of slayers, full of warmth and life.

For the first time in a long while… I thought that—**She was right**.

As the lively meal continued, my sharp eyes caught movement near the doorway.

A small boy—no older than six or seven—peeked from behind the wooden frame. His wide, curious eyes locked onto the bustling table, particularly on Lady Kanroji, who was laughing cheerfully as she spoke with the trainees.

His small hands gripped the edge of the doorframe, torn between stepping forward and staying hidden.

She hadn't noticed him yet, too caught up in making sure everyone had enough to eat. But I did. I wasn't sure why, but something about his hesitance felt familiar.

For a moment, I considered looking away, letting him observe in silence. But instead, I made a small gesture—just the faintest movement of my hand, subtle, barely noticeable to the others.

An invitation.

The boy's eyes flickered to mine. His fingers twitched against the doorframe.

And then, slowly—he stepped forward.

**I moved without thinking**.

My body felt light, yet my fingers trembled ever so slightly as I knelt before the boy. He flinched at first, surprised, but didn't step back. **His eyes—wide, curious, innocent—looked at me with a kind of quiet wonder**.

It was almost unbearable.

Because **in those eyes, I saw someone else**.

Someone who once stood tall before me, shielding me from the world. Someone whose warmth I had memorized, whose presence had been an unshakable foundation in my life. Someone who had vowed to protect me—

And **someone I couldn't see again**.

Though I still wish... I wish I can see him again.

**I'll find away**.

I'll try everything to see him again and I won't stop—**Untill my very last breath**.

'**Cause I know... Deep down... He's still there**.

I swallowed hard, pushing the lump in my throat down before it could choke me.

The boy didn't notice my struggle.

He just blinked up at me, waiting.

So I spoke. Softly. Carefully.

I asked him simple things—his name, why he was watching from the doorway, if he had eaten yet.

He answered shyly, glancing between me and Lady Kanroji at the table. He admired his big sister, it seemed. Wanted to be strong like her someday.

I smiled—small, faint, but there.

And bitter. Because those words, too, felt familiar.

My fingers curled slightly on my lap.

He was safe. He was loved. He had his sister.

And yet, despite knowing that, the ache in my chest didn't fade.

For a fleeting moment, I wished I could reach through time—hold onto what was lost, even if only for a second longer.

But I couldn't.

So instead, I placed a gentle hand on the boy's head, ruffling his hair just once before pulling away.

And with a voice steadier than my heart, I told him:

"You'll grow strong. I know you will."

And somehow, despite everything—I almost believed it, too.

Just as I pulled my hand away from the boy's hair, the faintest prickle crawled up my spine.

**A presence. Sharp. Unwavering. Watching**.

My instincts sharpened immediately.

My gaze flickered toward the window—subtle, calculated. I didn't move too suddenly, didn't alert the boy in front of me But I saw it.

A shadow. Dark hair. A white bandage covering the lower half of his face.

**The Serpent Hashira**.

***Obanai Iguro***.

He was perched just beyond the window, half-hidden in the shadows, golden eyes locked onto the room like **a predator stalking its prey**. Was something wrong? Why was he watching this place like a hawk? Or rather... **A hungry snake**.

I followed his line of sight—past the trainees, past the boy, past me—until it landed squarely on one person.

***Mitsuri Kanroji***.

Understanding settled in immediately.

*Ah*..

I sighed, barely restraining the urge to shake my head.

So that's why he was watching so intently—It was because of ***her***.

I glanced at **Lady Kanroji**, who was still happily chatting with the trainees, completely oblivious to the intense gaze lingering on her. **The other slayers** laughed at something she said, completely unaware that they were, at this very moment, **being judged with lethal precision**.

**I almost felt sorry for them**. ***Almost***.

My eyes flicked back to Iguro-san, meeting his sharp gaze.

For a moment, neither of us moved.

Then, with the faintest, most imperceptible movement, I tilted my head ever so slightly—silent acknowledgment. Silent amusement.

Iguro's eyes narrowed just a fraction. I wasn't sure if it was a warning or a sign of irritation that I noticed him at all. Maybe both.

Either way, I had no intention of getting involved.

Still, as I turned my attention back to the boy in front of me, I couldn't help but think—

***Jealousy*** was an ugly thing.

And **Iguro-san was wearing it** ***very*** **well**.

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***