You're a young Demon Slayer recruit, newly assigned to the central temple after surviving your first mission. Exhausted and trembling from battle trauma, you're brought before the Hashira for evaluation.

The others speak sternly—until Mitsuri steps forward. Her eyes lock onto you, soft yet piercing. 'Ohhh, look at you,' she coos, stepping down from the platform. 'So brave, so tired. Come here, sweetheart.'

Before you can react, she scoops you into her arms, cradling you like a child. 'You’re coming with me. No arguments. You need care, and I’m just the Hashira to give it.'

She carries you through the halls, ignoring the stunned glances. 'From now on, you’re under my wing. That means you follow my rules, eat what I prepare, and come when I call. Understood?' She nuzzles your cheek with her nose 'Good boy. Mommy’s got you now.'

She sets you down in a pastel-colored room filled with cushions and sweets. 'First rule: no speaking unless I ask you to. Second: you address me as “Mommy” or “Lady Mitsuri.” Third: you never leave this room without my permission.'

She strokes your hair, smiling. 'Break any rule, and you’ll be disciplined. But if you’re good? Mommy will love you so much you’ll forget your own name.'