Chapter Text
You described him as… unhinged?
When he eats, he doesn’t make a mess… he just absorbs them. But, when he gets in these moods, it’s a bloodbath; like he’s Elizabeth Báthory. It’s never women he masacres like that though, it’s only the men he tears apart. I’ve… been in rooms, connected to his, as I said before… and the blood spills into them. It bleeds through.
What the hell…
“Kochō…”
He’s quite intelligent, though, as scary as that sounds. I would never want to give a demon credit for anything but the blatant murder they commit, but… like any dictator, he sees you as a pawn, first… and the moment you lose your purpose, he just… loses it. Or you betray him? He invites you to a special dinner…
“Kochō!” This second calling of her name stirs her, and part of Shinobu thought that maybe her sister would respond in her stead. It’s enough of a thought to make her nose scrunch, but if only for a second, as she looks up to meet his gaze. She does her best to attempt a doe-eyed expression, and it’s enough indication that she hadn’t been entirely there, because he soon carries his head in his left hand. “That expression wasn’t flashy at all…” he must’ve caught her disdain to being addressed. “We are approaching the train station, have your identification ready.” There’s a painful sigh to follow.
Hinatsuru gives her a glance of concern, to which Shinobu dismisses with a wave of her own hand. “I’m sorry, I just can’t remember the last time I was on a train…” a lie, she knew exactly when she’d last ridden. “I’m always left a little speechless at the sight of a station.” This wasn’t entirely false, though. The architecture put into them always looked so clean and ageless, it was something that even she could admire.
When the woman accepts this for an answer, and turns to face the station again, Souta is the next to enter her line of vision. Shinobu didn’t even realize he’d come to walk beside her as they entered the town. “Hell of a thought you were in just now, huh?” He asks, hushed.
Shinobu can only scoff at this, if only he knew. “Now now, Fueki-san, you can’t deny a woman her thoughts. In some places, it’s all she has.” She speaks matter-of-factly, knowing Kanao once lived through this hell. Despite the rage that quickly boils over in her veins from the thought, her tone remained ever joyous. Now, she tilts her head to her right, to look at him better, still coming to accept these features he usually kept covered.
There’s a glint in his smile, and his jawline becomes more prominent as he tilts his chin upward. As he does this, the strands of hair framing his face move back only slightly, and she can see what looks to be a scar along his jaw. The way his hair turned into soft wisps, while the numerous cowlicks he had made him look disheveled. And in the creases of his smile, Shinobu can see a broken man. All men are mortal, she thinks. “How did you come to be this kind of spy?”
Her voice is barely above a whisper, but that doesn’t stop him from leaning closer, ever so slightly, to pick up on the words. “That’s a story for another time,” he says with a grin. Perhaps, if they survived, she might come to find out. “But, from here on out, it may be dangerous for us to be seen together.” This puts her on alert, to which Shinobu finds her eyes fleeting across the train station they’d come to a stop outside of. Even this far from the city they were headed towards, she was quickly realizing what kind of mission this was becoming.
“So this is goodbye, again?” Shinobu’s eyes fall onto a nearby clock, and it reads just before eleven, to which she lets out a sigh, “you even discussed lunch plans with us, how unkind of you to inconvenience us in that way.” It's her version of a jest, but her humor had the tendency to go over mosts’ heads.
Souta adjusts his grip on his pack, inching it up his shoulders a bit more all while watching Tengen with a jealous eye. “I’ll have to repay you, then.” Tengen doesn’t seem to notice his burning gaze, which is why he continues to speak calmly with a local who had stopped to compliment his strength. This causes Souta’s eye to twitch, but only slightly. When his gaze does come to meet her again, it softens into a smile even Shinobu thought to be blasphemous. “If they ask where I am, tell them I’ve gone on ahead.”
How strange of her, to be seeing something she never thought would occur in her lifetime.
But she nods, “of course,” all with keeping a smile in return.
Around them, common people walk past, a few give them the up and down. They were an… interesting group, to say the least. But the sounds of personal conversations intermingle with that of train noises, and the station intercom announcing departures and arrivals. At this moment, Shinobu feels normal. A strange notion, to accompany the blade at her side…
It’s Souta who breaks the silence that builds between them– “when I see you again, you’ll have taken on a different name as well.” This comes to her only as a minor surprise, but only because she hadn’t thought much about it yet… it was all still dawning on her that this was all happening. “Have you… put any thought into what it will be?” Shinobu isn’t quite sure what he’s reaching for…
She purses her lips, a gasp of air trapped in her cheek as she puffs it out. “Hmm,” she swaps cheeks as if she were gargling her words. “Perhaps I will switch my initials around, and I’ll pick a name starting with ‘K’ this time.” It’s only a thought, fleeting more than anything, and Shinobu doesn’t think she’ll stick with it.
But her mannerisms are enough to make him laugh, to which she happens to reciprocate. It was contagious, his joy. “Well, whenever you think of the right one,” Souta brings a hand to push his bangs back with, holding them down at the top of his head as he looks down at her… he looked quite handsome from here. “Find a way to let me know– I’ll put in a good word for you.”
While she wouldn’t call it a daze, she will admit to awe. Souta was back to that clever, quick thinking she never expected out of him. He was a trick she was grateful to have up her sleeve, going into these conditions.
When she agrees to these conditions, he releases his hair, offering her a wave now instead as he enters the train station. Shinobu watches as he pays for his ticket, and then promptly leaves her field of vision after. It’s perfect timing, because as soon as Souta was gone; Tengen took his place beside her.
As she turns to face him, he towers over her, almost like a tree. The Sound Pillar is pointing a thumb over his shoulder, not to anything in particular, when he speaks. “Hinatsuru is getting our tickets, Suma is finding us lunch, and Makio is making calls to our home in Hokkaido so it’s ready for our arrival.” The entire time she and Souta had been speaking, he’d been delegating tasks between his wives… and left the two of them with nothing.
Shinobu stands as straight as she can, but it isn’t enough to compare to his own height. “And what will we do, in the meantime?” It’s a rhetorical question.
But this must be a stupid question, because the grin that comes across the man’s face is nothing less than condescending. “You’re much funnier than your sister,” this was a strange remark, given that she wasn’t trying to be funny. She opens her mouth to protest this, but Tengen raises a hand, “you brought a change of clothes, didn’t you? We can’t be traveling like this, our cover will be blown.”
But it’s Shinobu’s turn to shake her head, she saw this coming, she did! But that didn’t mean she was prepared to be mistaken for another one of his wives. With the Demon Slayer Corps. uniform; they appeared as work colleagues, which is what they were! But the moment she wore something casual? The glances would start coming in. She’s left speechless, and wants so badly to rub her temples at the thought of being mistaken for his wife… but a hand touches her shoulder, and when Shinobu looks to see who it belongs to– Hinatsuru is smiling in light of her success.
In her other hand, five tickets are held, “it seems we have the last train cart to ourselves, Fueki-san put in a good word for us at the ticket booth.” While this wasn’t expected, it’s clearly appreciated. Tengen smiles, and mutters something praise worthy under his breath, but she doesn’t quite catch it. Shinobu is too distracted by Hinatsuru giving her the up-n-down. “You haven’t changed yet? Either of you?” She asks, and the air goes a bit cold.
Tengen, despite the man he was, knew all too well that a woman’s voice was a well-tuned instrument; and any key was entirely intentional. The tone his second wife took on now was reminiscent of a mother ready to scold, and he can’t help but brush it off. “I was just telling Kochō that,” and with his own ass covered, he drops his pack gently to the ground. “None of these will be casual enough for travel, we were hoping—”
It’s Hinatsuru’s time to cut off her husband, also raising a hand to stop him in his tracks. “I will take care of her, you get on the train.” While she’s indeed directing him, Shinobu never thought Tengen to be the type to take direction; let alone from a woman… but marriage was a finicky agreement, one Shinobu hoped to navigate on her own some day. “Shinobu-chan, come with me, surely one of these stores will offer a spare room.”
As the two set off to find just that, Shinobu can hear a faint train whistle in the distance, but she doesn’t think to turn around to find the source. She would soon be boarding her own, and possibly her last, in the next thirty minutes or so. There was no reason for her to be caught up in someone else’s ride.
The first shop they entered had a young boy at the counter, and he must’ve been in awe of the beautiful women entering; because he didn’t waste a second in agreeing to their request. The act of changing didn’t take long, either, because Hinatsuru quickly handed her some garments from her personal bag. Shinobu doesn’t think to question the style of the outfit given to her, because it was rather light in weight; less fabric was practical for movement, but that bubbling fear of being mistaken for a wife rose to her throat again.
The dress she now wore was a light lavender, almost white, to slightly darker purple gradient. The edge of the bottom-most hem, falling just between her knees, was adorned with muted white, but rather bold in contrast, blossoms of various sizes. There was only one slit in her dress, on her left side, that exposed most of her thigh. The obi belt she wore was a slightly darker purple than that of the end gradient, and Hinatsuru assisted in wapping it. There was no mirror present in the room, but Shinobu could only imagine how her figure appeared in this form fitting dress.
The thought of the elegant kimonos Hajime-san gifted her sounded like a dream, currently. They would cover her entire body, and she wouldn’t be so vulnerable. It’s then that she reaches to touch her hip, her blade not readily within her grasp. Hinatsuru must see this, as she folds her discarded uniform. “I have a spare thigh holster, if that would bring you any comfort.” The voice coming from beside her puts her in a memory Shinobu thought she’d forgotten.
She was younger, then.
Somehow, the Hashira finds it within herself to smile, flattening down the material with her hands to distract herself. “I’ll be okay, thank you.” Shinobu looks to watch, just as the woman places her haori and uniform in her bag. She thinks to beg her to be careful, but the words get stuck in her throat.
Hinatsuru doesn’t even have to meet her gaze, look her way, or think to ask when she speaks up. “Tengen-sama has told me about your sister,” her fingers work nimbly, as the bag is quickly secured with it’s leather straps and metal buckles. “I promise to take care of this haori, I know it must be important to you.” When she stands, the bag is carefully slung over her shoulders, her sheathed blade horizontally snug against the small of Hinatsuru’s back, looped through her bag’s straps
The lump that was once in her throat quickly melts, like honey in tea, the warmth that came from this woman soothing her nerves. Shinobu never thought she’d be jealous of a man like Tengen… but the act is enough to bring warmth to her cheeks– and Shinobu’s gaze is quickly brought to the floor. “Thank you,” is what she manages before footsteps approach her.
“Perhaps you might let your hair down as well,” is what advice she offers, pointing to her own ponytail as she approaches the door they’d entered in. “Your neck will most certainly get cold without that uniform collar to protect it.”
And just as they step out of the room together, Shinobu is immediately greeted by a chill rolling down her spine. Hinatsuru most certainly notices, because she lets out a laugh as the younger reaches to remove the pin holding back her hair. The purple tipped tresses come falling down, covering her neck instantly, and just barely come to kiss her shoulders.
The boy who had allowed them to change is speaking to a customer when they exit the store, and they are unable to thank him again. But outside, the sun is more forgiving than what air flow the shop had running, and Shinobu doesn’t feel quite as chilled.
Hinatsuru closes the door behind them, and lets out a sigh upon getting a breath of fresh air. “Let’s get to the train station, I imagine the other’s are already there waiting.”
Inside their train cart, the one they happened to get to themselves, was the same as the others in the line. This one, however, just so happened to have a lone, white haired man sitting in one of the middle seats by himself. Shinobu didn’t immediately recognize the man as Tengen, given that she’d only seen his hair down once or twice, but his painted nails were what gave him away. “Glad to see you found a place to change,” his voice was also very much his own too.
Hinatsuru places her bag down carefully in an empty seat, taking the seat that faced him directly. “A kind boy in the town let us use a spare room in his shop.”
The kunoichi’s husband says something under his breath, but Shinobu doesn’t catch it. She’s preoccupied, taking the seat just behind Hinatsuru’s against the window. She thought it better to leave the other two seats in their booth available, not waiting to split the happy couple up by any means.
Now, Shinobu is seated against the train’s window. Positioned opposite of the station, the view she has is that of an open prairie facing the building. With the end of the year nearing, the meadow has taken on a muted color; hues of yellow, brown, and green painted a wonderful backdrop for her reflection to stare back at her. The woman she sees now is a stranger, and it’s bizarre to see herself with her hair down… the purple tinged tresses come to brush over her shoulder, and it feels as if a ghost might be comforting her.
She’s transfixed on this smear, now, the thought of everything they were about to do coming to find a spot in her mind. It's enough to make her head spin, and it does– until the sound of the train cart door opening gives her a scare. In the gap, there are two busty women standing, each carrying an odd number of bento boxes.
Suma and Makio wear smiles that give even her a bubble of excitement in her chest, and Shinobu once again feels a bit envious of Tengen’s taste in women. Each of them had something that was overwhelmingly contagious. Whether it be joy like this, or the sense of protection at being surrounded by such strong women. “Tengen-sama~!” The raven holds up her spoils of war, the lunches she’d been tasked to gather. “I got two of each kind they offered, so you get first choice!”
But before the meals can be divided, Makio’s attention has come to fall upon Shinobu. Tawny eyes grow wide as she brings a hand to point directly to her, a noise of shock quickly beginning as well. “Whoa…! Shinobu-chan!” The kunoichi wastes little time closing the distance between them, and even goes as far as to enter her booth. “I didn’t think you’d have so much hair behind that pin!” Within this proximity, Shinobu can smell the sun radiating off the woman’s skin.
If she didn’t know any better, Shinobu would’ve thought this bright-eyed woman was Inosuke without his mask… the way Makio gave off the comforting aroma of wilderness put the Hashira back with her boar patient, the resemblance between the two almost uncanny.
The brunette brings her hands to touch the ends of her hair, running her hands through them briefly as if to confirm it was indeed real. “Yes, it is getting quite long…” Shinobu brings a hand to touch it herself. She would love to cut it.
“You’ll have this guy eating out of the palm of your hands, Shinobu-chan!” A wide grin takes her lips, and Shinobu swears her reflection could be seen in this woman’s glossy lips.
Makio was gorgeous.
From behind her seat, Suma’s stimming can be heard, a hum of a song she’d made up, along with Tengen shuffling through the bento meals. “Maki, Kochō, come take your pick.” His voice is a rolling thunder, and his wife is more than happy to comply like rain… but Shinobu remains unmoved for a second after, still coming to accept the rather bold compliment from another woman, as well as how she herself had been… enamored.
“I want fish, I want fish!” Suma squeals, just as Shinobu stands to watch. Her hands reach for what looked to be Makio’s choice, and possibly the last. “You said earlier you wanted pork!”
And while Shinobu is certain Makio had a witty reply, nobody could hear it over the whistle of the train sounding off. Five pairs of eyes momentarily go wide at the volume. Suma even goes as far as to wince, “we’re taking off? Already?” Her mouse squeak of a voice asks, between the train’s shrill screams.
Collectively, Tengen’s wives all rise to cross the width of the train, each finding a window facing the station to observe. Shinobu joins them, and outside, she can see final passengers rushing to board in time. “Fueki-san is gonna miss the train,” she can hear Makio mumble, followed by what Shinobu guessed was the sound of her turning around.
“Our mission was to escort him to the station,” and Tengen takes the words right from her own subconscious. When Shinobu turns around, the women beside her mimic the action. Across the aisle he sat, having placed bento boxes on his wives seats while they were distracted. “He got on an earlier train, right, Kochō?” The fellow Hashira doesn’t think to look up from his lunch, observing the painted packaging.
These words and information instantly settle the nerves of his wives, who clearly aren't aware they’d be separating. Granted, Souta had requested Shinobu inform them; but she hadn’t found a moment in which she could speak to all of them at once. “Correct,” until now, of course, but the train had beaten her to it. “And now that I have the chance to ask–” the Insect Pillar points a slender digit to the only man joining them, “–when did you find the time to change?”
Tengen lets out a hearty laugh, “on the train cart, of course.” He says it so nonchalauntly, and Shinobu can feel herself fighting an eyeroll. “Windows on either side of me, there’s no flashier way to do it!” The grin he wears is gleaming, given his pride. Knowing the fellow Hashira, as well as she did, it shouldn’t come as a surprise that he wasn’t beyond voyeurism of any kind.
Suma and Makio are actively taking up their seats again, when she asks this, each delighted to find a fish bento in their hands, when Shinobu finally breathes. “How kind of you to put on a show for the people of this town,” she exhales, now reaching for a lunch Hinatsuru held out for her.
The train took off not much longer after the food debacle, and they rode for some time in silence as their meals settled…
But it’s no surprise that it’s Suma who speaks first.
“Shinobu-chan,” the voice comes from above her, to which Shinobu looks up. She’d taken up her original seat, away from the happily married group, only to find the first wife smiling down at her. “Can I sit in your booth with you?”
Offering an open palm to the seat across from her, she didn’t think the older woman would be so excited to take it up. Suma walks with a joy in her step, and flounces her way to her new seat, letting out an aspirated sigh as she does so. “Thank you for finding us lunch.” Given their proximity now, Shinobu speaks in a lower volume, also not wanting to overpower any conversations that may occur behind her.
But Suma waves a hand, dismissing the meal-based gratitude. “It’s no big deal, not at all!” Bracing her palms on her own knees, the older leans forward. “Do you remember what I told you back at our estate? That we’d be training you, to make you the most beautiful Geisha in the Hokkaido area?” This statement sounds a bit of a stretch, but Shinobu knows what conversation the kunoichi is referencing.
She nods.
“Great, then let’s get started!” Shinobu had to admit, the woman’s determination was something she wasn’t expecting. “You already know that conversation is one of the four keystones of a geisha, and you’re already pretty good at it!” There was a ‘but’ coming up in these strings of words, the younger could tell.
“However,” close enough , “a little help couldn’t hurt.” These words come from someone that isn’t Suma, and when Shinobu turns her head, Hinatsuru is peeking around the booth to observe. “May I join as well?”
It wasn’t long after Hinatsuru joined their booth, that Makio found herself in a seat with them as well. Before her was, what Shinobu thought, to be her three teachers for the foreseeable future.
Hinatsuru, her conversation mentor.
Makio, her dancing instructor.
Suma, her singing and shamisen tutor.
If for whatever reason, Tengen’s flamboyant assistance was needed for anything, maybe then she would also consider him a teacher as well. But until that time came, he would simply be the audience, observing, and putting in his two-cents whenever. While the thought of him giving her advice on how to attract a man put her on edge, it was for the sake of the mission and avenging her sister.
So she would allow it.
“We’ll be on this train for a while, so why don’t we practice a bit now?” From her right, Hinatsuru speaks softly, which Shinobu was finding to be her default. “As we’ve said before, you’re already quite good at holding a conversation, so it would be best to start with something you’re more familiar with.”
Conversation already came so naturally, and given her own façade in nature, it only made sense for her to be good at it. She had to be. “I agree.” Shuffling in her seat, Shinobu turns slightly to give her current mentor her full attention. “Whatever shall we talk about, Hinatsuru-sensei?”