#insect breathing

[celestielswp]

SHINOBU KOCHO | THE INSECT HASHIRA

❝even if we're weak and can't cut off demon heads, if we defeat one demon, we can save dozens of people. and if we can defeat an upper rank kizuki, we can save hundreds. it isn't about whether we can or cannot do. there are things we have to do.❞

hashira series, 2/9

[lavenderdropp]

Wanted to draw a self insert in kny. An insect breathing user signifying moth? Yes.

Reference and base (credits to the maker on Pinterest):

[blazingsun-481-insta]

Poisoned.

[hyldelina]

🦋Shinobu vs Douma fanart

Her centipede attack was super cool...

[butterflylotusflower]

"Shinobu shows favoritism towards girls."

> No, Shinobu doesn't show favoritism towards girls at all. The only person Shinobu favors is Kanae.

> "But Shinobu is more interested in Kanao." Because Kanao is her tsuguko, she naturally needs to train her, and Kanao struggles to make decisions due to her trauma and can't express her feelings properly.

> It's normal for her to spend more time with Kanao, but that doesn't mean she's neglecting the other girls. Shinobu was the one who taught Aoi medicine. So, Shinobu doesn't show favoritism towards anyone.

[flufgoblin]

Coloured sketch concept for an insect breathing based on a hummingbird moth I just coloured my sketch cuz I was lazy, had fun though!

[sophieops]

The Letter She Never Sent

The rain had been falling since dawn, a thin silver curtain that blurred the path leading to the Butterfly Estate. The scent of wet earth hung heavy in the air as Sanemi Shinazugawa trudged up the hill, his uniform soaked through. He’d fought three lower-ranked demons overnight and hadn’t slept in two days, but fatigue wasn’t what made his shoulders feel like stone.

It was the funeral incense still clinging to him, even after the smoke had faded.

The hallways of the Estate were quiet when he arrived—too quiet for a place that had always been warm under Kanae Kocho’s presence. Sanemi stopped outside the infirmary, jaw tightening, his fists clenching and unclenching. He’d avoided this place since the Hashira meeting two days ago. He didn’t want to see Shinobu’s hollow gaze. Didn’t want to see the reminder of what had been taken.

“Sanemi-san.”

The voice was soft but steady. Shinobu stood there, her white Butterfly hairpin catching what little light seeped through the clouds. She looked impossibly small, her hands folded neatly in front of her. But her eyes—her eyes had sharpened into something like steel.

“You came,” she said simply.

“Yeah.” His voice was hoarse. “Figured I should.”

Shinobu held something in her hands: a folded piece of paper, worn at the edges. She stepped forward and pressed it into his palm.

“She wrote this,” Shinobu said. Her voice trembled just enough to betray the effort it took to keep her composure. “She meant to give it to you after her next mission. I found it among her things.”

Sanemi hesitated. “You sure I should—?”

“Yes.” There was no hesitation in her answer. “She wrote your name on the envelope.”

Shinobu left him there and disappeared down the hall, her steps light but quick, as though afraid he might see her cry.

Sanemi unfolded the letter. Kanae’s handwriting was neat and rounded, almost playful compared to the sharpness of the world they lived in.

Sanemi, You always scowl when I smile at you, but I think you do it because you’re embarrassed, not angry. You protect us even when you pretend not to care. I admire your strength, not just your blade, but your heart—the part you don’t show anyone. If the world ever feels too cruel, I want you to know: you’re not alone. You don’t have to carry the wind by yourself. —Kanae

The words blurred before he realized his vision was wet. He swallowed hard and crumpled the paper slightly in his fist—not out of anger, but because it hurt too much to hold it delicately.

“Idiot,” he muttered, voice cracking. “You should’ve stayed. You should’ve—”

The memory of the messenger crow delivering the news burned behind his eyelids: Kanae Kocho has fallen to Upper Rank Two. Sanemi hadn’t even been close enough to help. He’d been chasing a rumor on another mountain, swinging his blade at shadows, while she fought Dōma alone.

Sanemi slammed his fist into the wooden post beside him. The sound echoed down the hall, but no one came. His knuckles split, blood dripping to the floor.

That night, he trained until his muscles screamed. The wind of his blade tore through the rain-soaked air, each swing a desperate attempt to carve away regret. He saw Kanae’s smile in every flash of lightning, her calm voice in every gust.

“You’re not alone.”

The phrase haunted him. He had spent years believing isolation was strength, that kindness only got you killed. Kanae had known otherwise, and it had cost her everything.

The next morning, Kyojuro Rengoku found him still on the training grounds, the mud around him churned into deep grooves by relentless steps.

“You’ll destroy your body like this,” Kyojuro said gently. His usual fiery grin was dimmer, tempered with sadness. “Kanae wouldn’t want that.”

Sanemi wiped the rain from his face, though it did nothing for the tears he hadn’t realized were still falling. “I wasn’t there,” he rasped. “I wasn’t there for her. I should’ve—”

“You cannot fight every battle, Sanemi.” Kyojuro’s voice was firm, but kind. “She trusted you. She trusted all of us. Honor her by living, not by destroying yourself.”

Sanemi didn’t respond, but his fists loosened at his sides.

That night, he sat under the eaves of the Butterfly Estate, the letter unfolded beside him, the paper wrinkled from his earlier grip. The wind shifted, cool and steady, and for a moment, he imagined Kanae’s presence in the breeze—a warmth against the edges of his anger.

“I’ll watch over Shinobu,” he whispered to the night. “And I’ll make Dōma pay. But I’ll… I’ll live. Like you’d want.”

The wind stirred again, gentle, as if in answer.

And for the first time since her death, Sanemi let himself breathe.

[ratsarecute4]

If Shinobu was a sillier person she would have called her breathing style Cater Breathing so when she became a hashira she could be the Cater Pillar. But she didn't. And we all must suffer for it