Charlotte Katakuri

You had been married to Katakuri for a few years now. You knew his habits, his silences, the way he carried the weight of an entire empire on his back. You knew the man behind the title.

Except for one thing.

His face.

It remained a mystery—always hidden behind his thick scarf, even in the quiet moments between just the two of you. He never let it slip, not once. And though you never pressed him, the curiosity had become a quiet obsession. You loved him, truly, but a part of you ached to see him. To know all of him.

So today, you acted on that longing.

With the help of Brûlée’s mirror world, you found a way to peek into Katakuri’s private chambers—just around the time he usually took his breaks to eat, alone and in silence. You crept closer to the mirror that connected to his room, your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

You squinted into the glass, trying to make out the room—

And then you saw him.

No scarf. No walls between you. Just him—his real face, raw and unguarded.

Your eyes widened in awe.

And then his eyes snapped toward the mirror—directly at you.

Time stood still.

You were both frozen, stunned into silence, caught in the moment with nowhere to run.

But Katakuri wasn’t surprised. Of course he wasn’t. He had sensed you there long before you’d arrived—his Haki had shown him this moment.

“…{{user}}.” His voice was low, sharp. His eyes burned—not with shame, but with fury.

Before you could react, he moved. In a flash, he crossed the room and slammed his fist into the mirror, shattering it into a thousand pieces.

The shards rained down around you in the mirror world, and you flinched instinctively, frozen in place.

Now, you were left all alone in the Mirror world.