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"Thank you! Have a safe journey!"
As one of the newer recruits waved a hand in farewell, you stood by the gates of the Butterfly Estate until he was nothing but a speck in the distance. Sighing, you sealed the gate shut behind you as you climbed back to the foyer. The birdsong that drifted in your ears was a soothing sensation as you ascended the steps. The sky above called for good weather, too—not a single cloud in sight. It was a good day for slayers to carry out their duties, and you foresaw that nothing could possibly ruin such a wonderful morning.
"(Name)-san! Bakanosuke is out of the infirmary again!"
Or not.
"Shut up! Are you blind? I'm all better, see!"
"That's your definition of better?!"
Once you've reached the gardens, the sight that greeted you is of Aoi glaring at a much taller Inosuke, whose bandages have soaked through with blood, contrary to his earlier claim. You groaned in disbelief. You'd just re-dressed his wounds at sunrise, yet he still managed to strain against his stitches from yesterday?
"Inosuke what happened to your stitches?" you asked softly, brandishing the slayer with a disgruntled yet concerned look. "Didn't I tell you that it'll take a week for those to heal?"
With how much of a hard-ass he was being in the course of his most recent stay, you half-expected him to sneer at you just like what he was currently doing with Aoi. The boar-head had always been one of the Estate's trickiest patients to deal with, even before you've been appointed as one of the senior medics. But instead of the usual, offhanded remarks he gave to the kakushi, Inosuke merely grunted before stomping back to the infirmary without much of a fight.
Once the problem patient was out of sight, Aoi gaped at you like you just resurrected Kibutsuji.
"You're a goddess, (Name)-san," she muttered, dropping to her knees in praise. "A goddess!"
You spared her a soft laugh, tugging on her arm to ease her onto her feet. "No, I just try to deal with patients without losing my temper, too. We all know Inosuke can be a little bit of a handful, but you shouldn't fight fire with fire, Aoi."
"But he's infuriating," she reasoned, stomping on the grass. "If he'd just followed along with Zenitsu-san's and Tanjiro-san's footsteps, he could've been a Hashira now and we'd get to deal with him less! But look at him, eighteen years of age and he's still a Mizunoto!"
"Aoi," you chided. "It's impolite to talk about others like that, even if they are pains-in-the-ass."
The younger girl pouted, a sheepish look shadowing her face. "Hmph. I don't get where you're getting all this patience from, (Name)-san. It's a nightmare dealing with people like him."
"Well, let's just say you get fairly used to it," you chuckled.
Just before you were about to ask Aoi if she's already had breakfast, the sound of someone crying out in terror rang in your ears. You were immediately on high alert, running towards the source of commotion without a second thought. Was the estate infiltrated? Damn, Kanao was summoned to Headquarters today, too—
"Kya! Inosuke-san, are you okay?" Kiyo's voice could be heard from inside the manor, and you felt your worries deplete with exasperation. When you made your way inside the halls, the stubborn Inosuke was lying on the floor, body twitching dramatically. You dragged a palm across your face. Here you thought the manor was under siege.
Sumi was nudging Inosuke's shoulder with her foot, but the slayer was out cold; staining the floorboards with the blood from the wound on his side. Clicking your tongue, you crouched down, supporting all of Inosuke's seventy kilograms on your much tinier frame. The three girls aided you by supporting his legs somewhat, and with a bit of wobbly coordination, you all managed to dump him back into his unmade bed in the infirmary.
"That about does it," you breathed out in relief. "Girls, could you get me a basin of water, towels, and the suture kit, if you may."
The three of them nodded in practiced unison, quietly filing out of the infirmary to leave you alone with your unconscious patient. Sighing, you pulled back the sleeves of your pristine nurse dress and began to work.
It wasn't too much of a hassle, really, given that Inosuke had struggled against Aoi enough that he's loosened the dressing already. After you've disposed of the soiled bandages in a nearby container, you filed through one of the wooden cabinets for a clean piece of cloth and disinfectant. The last time one of your patients got a tetanus infection, you ended up lopping off a limb.
In the corner of your eye, you noticed the swift movement of Inosuke's legs as he shifted his weight on the bed. You could feel his gaze trained on you, even though he was still wearing that strange mask of his. When you turned around, he averted his stare, pretending to busy himself with the bamboo patterns etched onto the ceiling.
"(Name)-san!" called Naho's sing-song voice. "We have the things you needed!"
"Ah, thank you, girls," you replied as the three of them placed what you'd asked for on a table next to Inosuke's bed. "You can go now. I'll join you and Aoi at breakfast in a bit, okay? Oh, and could you clean up the mess in the hallway for me? Kanao doesn't like it when the manor isn't squeaky clean."
When the girls made their exit once more, you walked back to Inosuke's bedside, pouring an ample amount of disinfectant on the cloth.
"You mind telling me why you tried escaping today?" you asked him as you began wiping off the blood with the damp cloth, earning you a sharp hiss from the slayer. "Oh, sorry. I didn't give out a warning, did I?"
"You don't say?" he bit back, removing his mask so he could glare at you directly with those emerald-green eyes of his. The way his dark hair cascaded past his shoulders in loose ringlets was kind of mesmerizing. You could hardly believe, still, that a slayer with his raucous personality had a face personally designed by the gods themselves.
You humored him with an airy laugh, wringing out the blood-soaked cloth in the water basin. "If you'd just stayed still like a good little slayer, then we wouldn't have to re-do this, no?"
Inosuke scoffed under his breath, tucking his mask beneath his elbow as he relaxed on the bed. You raised an eyebrow at that. Usually, you'd have to plead with him not to tense up so much so you could examine his lesions to stitch accordingly.
Maybe he's used to it by now, you thought, your eyes roving over the several scars that decorated Inosuke's sculpted torso like a live museum of all the battles he's fought so far. You've heard of the tale of how he defeated the slayers' biggest enemy, Kibutsuji, alongside Tanjiro and the Hashiras a few years ago. And with his impulsive nature, you supposed it wasn't beyond him to dive head-first into battles without any concern for his own well-being.
When you've knotted the surgical thread through the suture needle, you pressed the two flaps of his wound together. "I'll do the stitching now, okay? Take a deep breath—"
"When you put the needle in," he continued irritably. "Just...get on with it."
The room was filled with nothing but the sound of birds chirping outside the open windows as you carried out the task at hand. Your sutures weren't the best, but given that the kakushi medic whose forte was surgical stitching had his day-off today, Inosuke was going to have to make do with your subpar skills for acting out so brashly like he had earlier.
You could feel him wince every time the needle sunk into his skin, but not once did he utter any sounds of pain or discomfort. What would you expect from a slayer that could get impaled by a sword and still survive the blood loss? Though Aoi hated the slayer's guts, she had told you a story or two about the most fatal of Inosuke's injuries in one of the most difficult battles in slayer history.
Look at him, eighteen years of age and he's still a Mizunoto!
"Inosuke, can I ask you something?" you probed gently, making sure you're securing the thread properly. Inosuke glanced at you with a curious look, but the permanently irritated look on his face was yet to wane. You chuckled, before continuing with, "Why don't you want to accept higher ranks? I've been told that you were on the same level as the Lightning Pillar, Zenitsu, and the Flame Pillar, Tanjiro."
When he made a choked up noise, you glanced at him with concern. His face had reddened by several shades, and your nurse instincts kicked in, wondering if he'd gotten a fever. When you touched the back of your hand on his neck, though, his temperature seemed fine.
"It's none of your business," he muttered, slapping your hand away.
Well, perhaps it wasn't. Your patients' personal affairs had nothing to do with you anyway, but you still felt the bite of disappointment for having been rejected so abruptly.
"And done," you announced with a satisfied breath once you knotted the thread to his stitches. Inosuke looked down on your handiwork with minimal curiosity and when he turned his gaze to you, you could read the silent gratitude in his eyes. Smiling at him, you began tidying up the sullied medical supplies you used for cleaning later in the morning.
You turned to him you were good to go. "Now, remember, it'll take a week for the thread to completely dissolve. Rest up as much as you can so you can resume going out on missions. I'll come by again later to give your breakfast, is that okay?"
"Whatever..." he muttered, still refusing to meet your gaze.
With furrowed brows, you gathered your supplies before stepping out of the infirmary, sparing Inosuke one last smile before going about the rest of your day.
"Oh! (Name)-san, hello!"
The sound of the familiar voice of the Flame Hashira caused you to pause in surprise when you walked into the dining hall after disinfecting the medical paraphernalia. Tanjiro waved cheerfully at you from his seat next to Kanao's, both Hashiras halfway through the pancakes you'd prepared much earlier in the morning.
"Tanjiro, Kanao, good to see you two," you greeted, pulling the vacant seat next to Aoi. "I didn't expect you to be back before nightfall."
Kanao merely smiled at you, a woman of a few words as always. Instead, she nodded her head at Tanjiro, who seemed to understand what the new Insect Hashira wanted to convey. The mental sync of lovers truly was a mystery.
"Ubuyashiki-sama just wanted status reports about the demonic activity across the country," Tanjiro filled you in. "He eventually let us off after. What about you, (Name)-san? Anything interesting happening around the Estate since the last time I visited?"
The groan that tore its way from your chest was borderline embarrassing with how done you just sounded. "Inosuke happened," you told him, but instead of the concerned look you expected good, responsible Tanjiro would make, his lips were splintered into a wide smile as he burst out laughing on the dining table.
"W-What's so funny?"
When he's managed to contain his glee into tiny chuckles, Tanjiro gazed at you intently with those vermillion eyes of his. "I'm pretty sure you've wondered once or twice why he's still a Mizunoto, right?"
You saw Aoi tense up in the corner of your eye as she was just about to shove a forkful of pancakes in her mouth.
"Well," the Hashira continued, "it's pretty obvious it's not because he's lacking in skill. It's because he doesn't want the burdens that came with rising to a higher rank."
"So he's just lazy?" Aoi asked, and you nudged her with your foot under the table, shaking your head disapprovingly.
Tanjiro grinned. "Somewhat like that but..." When his voice trailed off, he turned his gaze back to you, and there was something unnerving about the way his eyes lit up with amusement. "There's another reason."
You furrowed your brows at his vague answer, fork poking holes into the pancake on your plate. Another reason? What could be his other reason for purposely holding himself back? From what you've observed with Tanjiro and Kanao for the past few years, their status granted them several privileges that a regular Mizunoto could only dream of. Yet Inosuke, who had Hashira-tier skills, was purposely depriving himself of them?
From where you sat, you began noticing Sumi, Naho, and Kiyo fidgeting nervously in their seats. Huh. They've been silent during the entirety of the conversation, too—
"Inosuke-san made us do it!" Naho shouted as she shot up to her feet, rattling the table with the force. "H-He asked us to tear out the stitches so he could bleed again!"
You blinked. "What—"
"He's also the ones who asked us to fake his temperature readings so he could stay longer at the Estate whenever he gets admitted," reported Sumi, who was near tears. "What's worse is that he gets us to set up situations where Aoi-san would see him 'sneaking out' of the manor while he's still injured so his observation period could be extended, too!"
"Inosuke-san orchestrates instances where you would have to carry him back to the infirmary, as well!" Kiyo was the last to speak, running up to you and going down on her knees. "Please forgive us, (Name)-san! H-He's just so scary!"
Your mouth hung agape with incredulity from their words. Inosuke was...purposely extending his stay at the Butterfly Estate?
"Why would he need to do that?" you wondered, genuinely distressed. "All the supplies we've been using on him could've been reserved for when they're direly needed and yet..."
Tanjiro snickered at the back of his hand. "(Name)-san, do you really still not get it?"
"I understand that he thinks our supplies are expendable when they're not," you spoke sharply. "I'm going to—"
"Feelings can be conveyed in various ways."
You could feel everyone in the room freeze up at the sound of Kanao's voice. Whipping your head to face the Hashira, she was studying a butterfly that had perched on top of her fingers. You no longer wondered when the little insect managed to fly inside because Kanao was basically a magnet for such creatures anyway. Her lavender-hued gaze was trained on the butterfly, whose wings glimmered with an iridescent glow when the sunlight hit the colorful surface.
"Just like the gossamer of a butterfly's wings," Kanao began, lips tugging into a kind smile, "sometimes, one's feelings cannot be perceived immediately. But that doesn't make them any less delicate."
After a few moments of silence pass by, Kanao eventually let the butterfly flutter back into the air, making its exit through one of the high windows. Tanjiro heaved a sigh before turning to you.
"Kanao practically nailed what we're trying to say here," he said. "Do you get it now?"
Feelings. Does Inosuke...have feelings for you?
"You can't be serious," you breathed.
"Dead serious, (Name)-san," Tanjiro insisted before pushing a plate of untouched pancakes your way. "Now, it's still up to you if you're going to accept his feelings, of course. I just think he's freeloaded the Butterfly Estate and terrorized its denizens long enough."
With trembling hands, you poured some water on an empty glass before carrying the plate in your other hand. "Tanjiro, I swear to god, if you're just jumping to conclusions here—"
"Ah, you can take the expenses Inosuke has accumulated for you guys out of my salary if it turns out he's just messing around," he cut you off hurriedly, gesturing for you to get going. "Go!"
While Aoi was casting you a worried look, the encouraging faces that the two Hashiras on the table were making was all the drive you needed to confront Inosuke. Muttering to yourself, you took the plate of pancakes and made haste back to the infirmary to settle this once and for all.
"Inosuke?" You poked your head inside the room, only to find the slayer out of his bed, standing by the open window as he gazed at the generous scenery outside.
As you walked closer to him, you realized that no, he wasn't sight-seeing. Inosuke was staring at a butterfly that looked eerily similar to the butterfly that approached Kanao earlier in his palm. Viridian eyes studied the careful way in which the butterfly flexed its wings every now and again. The absence of the permanent frown on his face was something you'd only seen when he was fast asleep. It was quite the sight to see when he was wide awake.
In the next moment, the butterfly fluttered onto his nose, and Inosuke looked as if he was trying his best not to react in a way that would scare it off. With trembling hands he tried to give the butterfly another place to perch on his fingers but it seemed to have found home on his nose, of all places. Who knew that someone with the poorest temper control you‘ve seen harbored that gentleness inside?
You were unable to stifle the laugh that bubbled in your chest, and that was enough to alert the slayer of your presence. For someone who claimed to have the instincts of an animal, he certainly was distracted.
"Say, Inosuke," you began, relishing in the crimson blush that tainted his cheeks. "A little bird told me you had a crush."