Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

A winged shadow passes over your face. Your kasugai crow has taken flight, busying himself with lazy laps around the perimeter. You let him do as he pleases, your focus centered solely on your family property. The house had cut a grand figure in the distance, but now that you're several feet away, nothing about it resembles its original appearance in your memories.

The walls are old and discoloured, the roof weathered and visibly cracked in places. The fences that surround the property still stand sturdy, but only just barely, having falling into similar disrepair as the rest of the house. Without anyone to care for it, the seasons have clearly taken their toll.

Cued by some sort of entity, the clouds part. The blazing sun hangs in the zenith of the sky, beaming down warm sunlight. Beads of sweat begin to gather on the back of your neck, and you wipe them away with a tired sigh. You glance down accusingly at your layers of clothing. You would have dressed in a lighter garb if you weren't on a tight timeline, but unfortunately, you don't have the luxury.

You tug at the haneri collar of your Slayer uniform, huffing when it continues to insist on chaffing your neck. You give up and settle on loosening your haori in hopes of alleviating the heat. If you didn't think there was a possibility your neighbours would gossip about your uniform, you would have forgone the haori entirely. Gaining the attention of government officials is the last thing you want to happen. Given that you're regularly travelling, it would bring endless trouble if they accused you of terrorism or being a foreign spy.

Should anyone happen to see you today, the impression you want to give is of a downtrodden man returning to check up on his old home, and nothing less.

You unlock the gate and cross through the overgrown yard, marching at an even pace until you reach the main entrance to the house. The doors creak ominously as you slide them open. Immediately, what hits you is the pungent stench of dust and filth. The air is thick with rot and your first step over the threshold sends musty clouds of dust spiralling into the air.

Your hand whips up to cover your face, nose wrinkling. The interior has long been abandoned to time and nature and it certainly smells like it. This is something you had expected and experienced before, but no one would enjoy going through a repeat of a disgusting occurrence. Still standing near the door, you leave it open to let in a flood of sunlight. Getting a clearer look at the floorboards, layered with years of accumulated dust and grime, makes you grimace. You forgo taking off your sandals and step directly onto the raised platform.

"I'm home."

Your words echo into the silence. You feel a rush of bitterness that is accompanied by weary nostalgia. The latter isn't entirely unexpected. Regardless of what happened here, this place is still one you consider closest to your heart. You spent many formative years here and these walls have seen every side of you imaginable. It has bore witness to your beginning of your life and the moment it fell apart. It would be more surprising if you didn't feel anything at all.

You enter the hallway leading to one of the largest rooms in the house, memorable not for its size, but by how your mother always kept it stocked with expensive tea vessels and rare antiques. Your father found it wasteful to display your family's wealth so openly, it was only at her insistence that he agreed to let it remain.

Entering the room this time around, you are not filled with childlike awe, but a faint sense of desolation. The upper windows cut into the bamboo walls, layered with thick paper film, allow in some measure of light, revealing the largely empty living room. Save for a lonesome shelf and stool sitting in the far corner, the distinct lack of furnishings is a far cry from the years prior where your family used to flaunt specially commissioned cabinets and shelves.

You make your way across the room in a slow and pensive pace. The floor that used to be lined with tatami are stripped bare, splattered with animal droppings and cobwebs. You definitely made the right decision to keep your footwear on.

Keeping your gaze at eye level, you swerve around the thick square beams jutting out of the floor. You walk forward with your eyes firmly on the sliding doors on the other end of the room. Nothing, not the promise of riches nor the threat of death, will make you lift your gaze. Not at the risk of glancing at the large crisscrossing beams overhead.

You don't need to look to know that the piece of cloth, looped tightly around the beam, is no longer there. There's no reason for it to be. After all, the people who cleaned up the scene of the grisly remains had been thorough. It would be impossible for you to look up and see your father, the rope bunched tightly around his neck, still swaying there.

You throw open the living room door in your haste to exit. At the sight of the wooden staircase off to the right, equally dilapidated as the rest of the house, you breathe out a shaky sigh. You rub your clammy hands together. "All this dust must be making me delusional," you mutter. "There's no way something like that could happen unless the body dug itself out of the ground."

The idea of a corpse coming back to life absurd. The only creature that was capable of committing such acts, wouldn't be ghost or ghouls – but demons. At that thought, your hand twitches, moving to hover over the katana strapped to your waist. Giving the hilt a firm squeeze, you shake your head. "I really need some fresh air."

You proceed in the direction opposite of the staircase. The backyard you're headed to is located in an indiscriminate corner of this property, but having visited it countless times over the years, you navigate smoothly through the hallways, your body operating on long conditioned reflexes. With a fair amount of sunlight filtering through cracks in the walls, you see the door before you reach it. It's one that guests and newer servants have always easily overlooked, due to the fact that it's hidden at the dead end of one of the lesser used hallways. Digging your fingers into the groove of the wooden door, you tense your arm and slowly slide it open.

The backyard reveals itself in all its overgrown entirety. There is an overflowing number of wildflowers growing here, spread throughout the area in random tufts of pink and white. You don't recall your mother planting anemone nor seeing them on your last visit. Spread by the wind or sowed by wild animals, perhaps?

You stand at the mouth of door, admiring them for several seconds. The petite flowers are a sight. They liven up the dreary backyard of the once solemn landscape, and your mood improves the longer you look. Nature may be unforgiving at the worst of times but it is never incapable of beauty.

Eventually, your cursory glance turns into deliberate observation, and when you make out the overgrown weeds among the shrubs, reality seeps in. You pull yourself out of your admiration and step out of the house. Your sandals leave footprints in the grass as you make your way to the weary looking shrine built under a small awning.

The shrine is small, ordinary looking compared to grandness of the house. Even those who do not come from wealthy families would be able to distinguish that it is of no special make. It is the kind you would find by the side of the road, not within a house belonging to the Kuroshio family, a widespread clan with roots that date back to more than fifty years.

Looking at makes you faintly nostalgic. Despite her disastrous lust for opulence, your mother could not be accused of lacking filal piety. This shrine was built specifically for her maiden family, befitting of their station as humble peasant farmers from a rural prefecture.

In an ironic twist of fate, though, this shrine does not remind you of your mother's relatives. It reminds you of her.

Apart from the house, objects such as clothes, books and other memorabilia belonging to your family have also long been discarded. This shrine is all you have left recall your family by.

Stepping into shade of the awning is a welcome relief. You stand near an unlit brazier and hold your arms at your sides, bowing deeply in the direction of the shrine. You raise your head. Place your palms flat together, then bow again.

"Mother. Sister. I hope my prayer reaches you, wherever you may be."

You swallow past the sudden thickness in your throat and purse your lips into a firm line. You've successfully grown your business over the past four years and had your coming-of-age celebration just last year. You shouldn't be acting like an unruly child prone to abrupt fits of emotion.

You clear your throat. "I apologize for not visiting often. My business has gotten leaps better since my last visit and aside from my merchant duties, my work for Demon Slaying Corps is prone to taking up a majority of my remaining time."

Your Kasugai crow lands atop the fence with a manic flap of wings. Beady black eyes bore into yours before he loses interest. You shake your head and continue to talk. "In any case… as selfish as this sounds, there is a reason for today's visit. It is for this same reason I stopped by Sensei's grave the day before."

Your next sentence escapes you in a breathless rush. "I have just received a summons to headquarters." Saying it out loud does not do anything to lessen your anxiety. It's been four years since you barely passed the final selection, and you've been stuck in the same rank since the early parts of your demon slaying career. "With my level of strength, I certainly have never made great contributions to the cause. If I was going to be commended for something, they would have surely mentioned it in my summons."

You glance at your crow, who has taken to pecking the underside of one wing. "Did I inadvertently break an important rule? Did my reputation plummet to the point where they decided to punish me severely?" Despite the temperate climate, a shiver wracks your body.

"I feel as if the upcoming meeting will bring about a tremendous change," you say, your voice falling into a low mutter. "But will it be for the worst or for the better?"

The last time you had gotten a feeling like this, a faint niggling in the back of your mind, your entire world fallen apart. The memories of that horrific event have blurred as time trickled by, but the feelings that spring up in the wake of them, even this many years later, are still the most volatile and painful ones you've had the misfortune of experiencing.

You sigh, the weight on your chest feeling heavier than ever, "…I hope the both of you will give me strength. Or perhaps show me a sign that things will turn out fine."

There is a noisy flap of wings before a broken caw erupts right beside your ear. "RYUU," your blasted crow screeches, "Too SL-OW! Time to GO! Time to GO!"

"If I didn't swear on Sensei's grave that I would take care of you…" you mutter angrily, flexing your arms to hold back smacking the offensive bird. He lets out another ear-splitting caw before flying away. You turn to regard the shrine with a look of helplessness. "When I asked for strength, I didn't expect to be in dire need of it so soon."

By the time you finish locking up the house's main gates, the sun has been completely blotted out by roiling hills of grey. Your surroundings are awash with a dreary grey tint and the atmosphere seems to have become devoid of all energy. You had at least encountered some people along the streets earlier, but the roads are now completely vacant. The sudden turn of weather must have sent them scurrying back into their homes.

You grunt and glare up at the sky in frustration. While you're grateful for the cooler weather, getting soaked in the rain right before attending a potentially life-altering meeting isn't any better than being cooked alive in the heat. Hopefully these clouds are just passing through.

Now, where were you supposed to be headed for again…?

You are rifling through your belongings and feel a weight on your shoulder. "Don't try anything funny," you warn your crow without pausing what you're doing. "You can count on going without any smoked meat tonight if decide to blow out my eardrums." You feel him huff, shaking out his feathered body in agitation. You roll your eyes. Your crow has been with you for years, but you've never been able to curb some of his more dramatic tendencies.

After several more seconds of searching, you pull out what you've been looking for. The letter of summons, stamped with the indistinguishable crest of the Demon Slayer Corps. Unfurling it, you refamiliarize yourself with the location of the rendezvous before storing it again. Despite working for them as long as you have, you've never heard so much of a whisper of the location of headquarters. It's simple to surmise that the coordinates you've received is likely for a throwaway point, perhaps guarded by kakushi to verify your identity beforehand.

Either way, you're still nervous. A short trip to the rendezvous point is just what you need to rid yourself of excessive thoughts.

You turn to squint at your Kasugai crow. It remains blessedly silent, tilting his head to look at you in the faux innocent way he always does after you've threatened to withhold his food.

"Though I highly doubt you'd tell me, I am still going to ask. Is Oyakata-sama as fearsome as the rumours make him out to be? I know they ought to be taken with a grain of salt, but rumours usually contain slight slivers of truth. Many of the Pillars are legendary for being tough to get along with, compensating them is one thing, but keeping difficult personalites in line wouldn't work unless you're powerful, or at least, deserving of their respect."

The reputations of the current living Pillars are definitely larger than life within the ranks of the Corps. The most farfetched tale you've heard is of the Sound Pillar, who many say has a harem of more than one hundred women.

And now that you're on that topic… the only Pillar you've encountered by chance is the Water Pillar. Aside from Tomioka-sama, who likely can't even recall who you are, you've had no contact at all with the remaining five.

Being summoned for offending a Pillar?

You chuckle at the audacity of your prior worries. It would be more accurate that the Stone, Insect, Wind, Sound and Fire Pillars are wholly unaware of your existence.

You extend your arm towards your crow and he hops on without complaint. "Alright, since you behaved, I'll give you a snack." You raise your arm, holding him at eye level. "And tell me... did I guess right? Is Oyakata-sama truly a person who rules the Corps with an iron fist?"

Your Kasugai crow bends forward and gives your sleeve a number of gentle pecks. Sighing, you take out a spare piece of wrapped jerky from your inner pocket. You clumsily remove the wrap with one hand, and of course, he swiftly snatches the meat the moment it comes off. Following that, in yet another obvious and predictable outcome, he gobbles down the entire piece.

Your Kasugai crow leaps off your arm, taking to the air. "Ryuu thinks too MUCH!" he shrieks, "N-OT necessary! N-OT important!" He does two laps above the top of your head before flying in the direction you're supposed to be heading towards. "USELESS to TH-INK! Time for Ryuu to GO!"

You trudge after him, torn between heaving a scoff or a sigh. You know yourself better than anyone to argue with your thickheaded messenger. Though it isn't something you like hearing from a bird, it is true that you've probably gone overboard in conjuring up the potential reasons for the summons you received.

You also do not regret stopping by your old home for a visit. Short as your one-sided speech had been, admitting all that had weighed on your chest has given you some room to breathe.

"Thinking about it again makes me feel silly," you mutter wryly. "With my rank of Tsuchinoto, I might not even get to meet a Pillar, let alone Oyakata-sama. I shouldn't have anything to worry about."

After all, why in the world would someone solidly in the upper ranks of the Demon Slayer Corps pay attention to a lowly Tsuchinoto?

Chapter Text

"You don't have to be so stiff."

You keep your entire form stiffly bowed, unsure of what to reply. Being told to relax by the leader of the Demon Slayer Corps will result in the opposite effect he intends, no matter how calming his voice. You wager only a directly injected muscle relaxant could help you now.

"Oh, how inconsiderate of me," Ubuyashiki Kagaya exclaims, making a soft sound of realization. "Anyone would be tense if it were their first time at headquarters, and the journey here must not have helped your nerves. I shall make haste and endeavour to keep our discussion to the point, then."

Someone with a death wish will point out their fraying nerves has everything to do with the ensemble of Pillars glaring holes in your back, less to do with being thrust in a foreign environment. You are not such a person, and thus you settle on the best reply you can think of.

"Thank you, Oyakata-sama."

You keep your head bowed to await further judgement. This will hopefully be your first and last time being thrust into the spotlight. Should you have to withstand another instance of this, you would prefer to get yourself roaring drunk first.

"Very well. First, let me begin by confirming how long you have been in the service of the Demon Slayer Corps. Our records show you been with us for an considerable amount of time, longer than most slayers, my pillars notwithstanding."

There is a calculated pause at the end of his sentence. You know a subtle order to respond when you hear one, and you say, "Indeed, it is as you say. This will be my fourth year in the organization."

"And your rank?"

"Tsuchinoto, Oyakata-sama."

There comes a number of disparaging grunts from behind you, the one from the Wind Pillar particularly ferocious. Their scorn glances off you like sunlight reflecting off a river's surface. You are unreactive where normal people would have bristled or lost themselves in shame.

It is not because you are resilient to emotions or think yourself special. The truth is far more tame. You can't recall when, but at some point during your career as a Slayer, no matter how many battles you overcame or how much you trained, you barely showed signs of improvement. Often, increasing the frequency and severity of training only yielded meagre results, and the time you took to recover would erase those hard earned upsides. Subjecting yourself to harsher methods changed nothing, and the conclusion you arrived at had drowned you in sorrow for weeks.

In this world, where the weak grappled at the straws to survive, you had been among the many who wished desperately to be one of the strong. But reality proved a cruel mistress, and aside from embracing death, you were left with no other choices. You had to accept the truth.

This was the extent of your body's potential, and Tsuchinoto was the highest rank you would attain in this lifetime. You would not advance. Not when your total demon kill count barely totalled over twenty.

Strangely, once you made peace with your circumstance, you were paradoxically stronger and more confident than you'd ever been. This surety of your limits has allowed you to survive skirmishes Slayers of the same rank would have been felled by. Your skill to judge whether a battle should be pursued to the bitter end or abandoned has handily saved your life more than a few times.

So, no. You have no reason to be ashamed.

Ubuyashiki must sense your resolve. He lets out a satisfied hum that evokes a wave of appreciative murmurs from Pillars and Kakushi kneeling nearby. The man then bestows you with a beaming smile and says, "I am delighted you have survived this long, my dear Tsuchinoto. May you continue to live splendidly and aid us in the years to come."

Your chest swells with emotion. The missions you toiled over, your suffering at the hands of sadistic demons, lonely nights spent reading by the firelight... Ubayashiki's words instantly uplifts you. It is strange how easily he makes the blood and sweat you have spilled feel wholly worth it.

You now understand why the Pillars have remained intensely loyal to this man despite their tremendous strength. Earlier in your life, you've suffered under people with power who treat those under them like scum. In your experience, those people never stay in their positions for long. Ubuyashiki has been the head of the Demon Slayer Corps for as long as you've known, and it already tells you a lot about him than history ever will.

Your head digs deeper into the dirt. "This lowly one will gratefully accept your blessings."

Ubayashiki smiles. "Your dedication towards your duty is admirable and according to our laws, you are to be paid for your services rendered. However, it has recently come to my attention you have yet to collect compensation for the past two years. According to my daughters, it has accumulated into quite a sum. This case is the first of its kind, and I cannot help but assume that you think your remuneration unsatisfactory?"

What he says soothes some of your fears. You hadn't broken a rule. Before the silence can stretch too long, you raise your head to speak. "This humble one can offer an explanation."

Oyakata-sama nods, his kindly expression never receding. You ignore the gazes full of killing intent drilling into your back and tell him, "I was born from a family of merchants and schooled in the ways of trade. By combining their teachings with the generous remuneration from my first two years of service, I turned enough profit from my businesses to sustain me up till this point."

Demon Slayers are constantly travelling. It makes sense for anyone to be suspicious given how long you've operated without a constant source of funds. Just from what he mentioned, you could have been accused of consorting with demons or bribed by outside forces. You are lucky Oyakata-sama is a man of good character, or you might find yourself gutted and hung out to dry.

You continue, "Seeing as I already had a constant source of income, I deemed it greedy to hoard more money and thus left the remaining renumeration untouched. I believed the organization would benefit to have more capital to provide for any incoming Demon Slayers. Forgive me for being presumptuous and not communicating my intentions earlier."

The tenuous atmosphere created from Ubuyashiki's suspicions has dispersed by the time you finish speaking. You are glad none here are mind-readers. That means only you are privy to your internal wailing for failing to foresee this outcome. You have made a grave miscalculation for things to have escalated like this.

"Ah, so that is what it was!" Ubuyashiki answers, delighted. "I am touched by your personal effort to support the Demon Slayers Corps. And also... seeing as you mentioned you are well-versed in the art of trade, perhaps you might be able to offer advice on how my existing family trades can better earn profits."

Your eyes nearly bulge out of your head. You think he is joking until you see his wife nodding away beside him, apparently agreeing with his words. Ubuyashiki continues speaking, oblivious to the subtle shaking of your head. "Given that the bulk of the organization is reliant on my existing family trades to keep fed, it would be prudent of me to make sure they will continue to flourish. Our war with the demons is far from over and it will pay to be prepared, seeing how government funding is woefully absent."

"Pardon me for speaking, Oyakata-sama." A gentle, feminine voice draws your attention, sounding neither overbearing nor boastful. "Perhaps it might be wise to consult this Tsuchinoto about our plans regarding the logistics of our medical supplies as well. Meticulous planning is no match for actual experience. Drawing on already tested trade knowledge will be an excellent way to identify pitfalls we did not account for."

There is only one female among the Pillars. The Insect Pillar, famed for her beauty and poisons. A bulk of the rumours comes from how she wears a perpetual smile on her face and how it never wavers in the face of danger. According to hearsay, it softens her delicate features and accentuates her already striking beauty to an almost alarming degree.

"That is a wonderful idea," Ubuyashiki says. "The organization will greatly benefit from his assistance in both matters, that is... if he agrees to lend us his power."

That is your cue to express your unbending sincerity. You do that by giving Ubuyashiki another deep bow, nearly nailing your forehead to the ground.

"It will be my utmost pleasure."

When Oyakata-sama finally ends the meeting and gives everyone present the permission to rise, you find yourself on the receiving ends on a number of envying and pitying gazes. You ignore them and turn to the Insect Pillar, Shinobu Kocho, giving her an equally deep bow of respect.

"Pleased to meet you, Kocho-sama," you greet. "I am sorry, but I shall entrust myself to your care."

When you raise your head, you take this opportunity to observe her. This is your first time seeing her in person. She and her deceased sister are legendary for their deadly combat prowess and earth-shattering natural beauty, and previously, you assumed rumours were greatly exaggerated.

Looking upon her now, you come to a conclusion the rumours had forgotten to include a number of things.

Shinobu Kocho certainly looks accurate to her moniker, the goddess of healing, but not once have you heard about this intense air surrounding her. The distilled lethality of her presence is enough to make your body go taut with tension. Her smile might be gentle and inviting, but her brilliant intellect is alluded to by the penetrating sharpness in her gaze.

You wonder if your brothers-in-arms have cotton for brains.

How is this woman a damsel in need of protection?

"My, you are a polite one, aren't you?" Shinobu seems pleased by your manners and greets you with a short bow. "Oyakata-sama has spoken and I hope our collaboration will be a fruitful one. Now, follow me. The material we need is stored in the Butterfly Mansion. It will be good to get you acquainted with the place with before we can discuss anything."

You're relieved by her professionalism. "Of course, Kocho-sama."

"Shinobu-san is fine. I might be a Pillar on the field, but while working on this matter, it would be better for us to treat each other as equals."

You aren't one to argue, and you respond with a succinct, "Understood, Shinobu-san."

Shinobu's eyes crinkle as she laughs. "Good. I look forward to working with you."

I've gotten too invested in my boi so I decided to commission greyscale piece. Hope he lives up to your expectations! 

Art done by @rosakai_art on Instagram:

Chapter Text

You accompany Shinobu back to Butterfly Mansion on foot, the residence situated somewhere in her personal territory. When you left headquarters with the help of various Kakushi, you had braced yourself for things to turn awkward, but to your utmost surprise, Shinobu proves herself to be fantastic company.

In addition to her astounding wealth of medical knowledge, the Insect Pillar is an adept conversationalist. Years of experience from holding conversations with complete strangers has shaped you into a person capable of sustaining a spoken connection even with the most difficult of customers, and with a naturally charismatic Shinobu, your words come easily as water flowing down a mountaintop.

Your nervousness at talking to a Pillar, idols from farfetched tales and rumours, fades into the back of your mind.

The only wrinkle thus far is when you mentioned how this will be your first visit to Butterfly Mansion. It was an anxiety inducing thing to be the target of Shinobu's strange, disbelieving look. Her smile feels cutting, like it were shaving off a layer of your skin. It thankfully returns to normal when you explain how you'd never experienced any life threatening injuries that could not be treated at a Wisteria House.

"Sometimes I forget," Shinobu says after listening to you. "That by nature of my territory being so close to headquarters, it's near impossible for slayers to find my residence by themselves. It's always the Kakushi who bring them to me. But to have not been to my mansion before this... you must be more skilled than your rank implies!"

"I wish that were the case," you say when you notice Shinobu reappraising you with her sideways glance. "The compliments should be allotted to whoever arranges my missions. No matter how strong a person is, luck played a large part in letting me get this far."

You aren't paying lip service or trying to downplay your efforts, but even you're amazed at how long you have managed to survive. You've known far stronger people who go on missions and never come back.

"That should be a good thing," Shinobu replies, "Though I notice you don't sound happy about it?"

"The thing about luck is that you won't know when it chooses to abandon you. We can try to prolong it, but nature has a way of righting itself. And this is likely an unpopular opinion, but..." There is an agreeing look on Shinobu's face from all you've said. You consider your next words for some time, thinking if you should test the waters.

"But?" Her eyes gleam and her neutral expression slightly cracks to reveal her curiosity.

You both will be working together for an undetermined amount of time. It would be good to see if there are any lines you should not cross. You go for it. "But there should be no shame in abandoning fights you can't win. I'm not saying one should abandon innocents to demons, but rather than throwing yourself into a reckless fight that ends in death, surviving to see the dawn of a new day means one less victim for the demons."

You almost immediately regret it when the words leave your mouth, but your own curiosity at how Shinobu will react is too much to ignore. You and several others are an infamous topic among the more zealous corps members, and you suspect it might have to do with your demon hunting methods.

You never ran when there were people to be protected, but if you think you can't handle a demon, either due to difficult terrain or unfavourable conditions, you will always bid a swift retreat. You would always catch and slay the demon in the end, but according to a Slayer who'd once worked with you on a joint mission–

'What kind of Slayer shows his back to a demon?!'

Shinobu does not speak for a long while, and it not until the figure of the mansion enters your vision that you start to grow antsy. Perhaps you were wrong and bringing up such a controversial topic has tanked her opinion of you completely.

That thought steals the breath from your lungs. Oh god... you've just preached about the sanctity of life to a Pillar who has rescued more than a lifetime's worth of demon victims and slayers over the course of her entire career.

"It should be obvious why that opinion is unpopular, Tsuchinoto-san," Shinobu finally answers in a voice neither too heavy nor light. "Anyone who becomes a slayer wishes to kill demons even at the cost of their own life. Granted, not everyone will hold the same conviction, but most of us probably do."

You turn to look at her. The absence of her smile is haunting and it sends a chill crawling up your back. The feeling of having treaded a tiger's tail doesn't disperse even when her expression reverts back to her usual, smiling one. "However, it is not my place to judge. Your life is ultimately in your hands, and your way of thinking, though disagreeable, doesn't break any of the Corp's rules."

You suppress the sigh of relief. "I see."

Shinobu's smile gentles slightly at your stiff reply. "And while certain Pillars would seek to dissuade you of that way of thinking, I'm not one of them." She puts a hand on the gates of the Butterfly Mansion and pushes it open. "We have arrived. The estate is not big enough to get lost in, but it'll be better if I gave you a tour before letting you run off on your own. Would you like to see your room or take a look at the place you'll be working in, first?"

You've pushed enough for today, so you settle for replying obediently, "I'll let you choose, Shinobu-san. I'm fine with either."

Shinobu takes you to her laboratory. It is large, the size reminding you of the main hall of a martial art or kenjutsu institution. Situated at the back of the mansion, the room is cool and packed wall to wall with bookshelves, chests and tables brimming with neat piles of loose paper.

All the information and plans Shinobu shows you is taken from an average looking chest of no particular note. You don't find it strange, placing important items in gaudy and overtly fancy trunks tends to work against their owners if robbers come knocking. Not that it will be a problem considering who lives here, but it's better not to tempt fate.

The information you need to look through is contained in bound notebooks thicker than an engorged bicep. There are a great many of them and by the time Shinobu brings out everything of importance, the notebooks form an awe inspiring tower jutting toward the lamp dangling from the ceiling.

A quick flip reveals their page count to tread the territory of ancient texts, making you unduly excited by the prospect of reading them. Unlike their musty exteriors, you suspect their written contents will be anything but outdated and boorish. You confirm this when you pick up a random notebook and start reading. Your head grows dizzy as you skim over the meticulously collated information, the script inside so unerringly neat it is almost as if the words were printed onto the parchment using wooden block stamps.

You vaguely hear Shinobu say something and the muted thud of a door as she leaves the room. When she doesn't come back, you assume she has left to attend to other, more important matters and plant yourself in a nearby chair to start reading.

The random notebook you grabbed turns out to be a collection of research notes on how the decline of herbs in an area can be used to identify if the surrounding populations have become a demon's hunting ground. It has no right to be as interesting as it is, but your voracious appetite for information and general love of reading sees you completely compelled.

The next time you look up, it is due to a hard shake to your shoulder that jolts you out of concentration. You blink the swirling black words from your eyes, placing the notebook face down on your lap. By the time you stop seeing double, you realize you've been staring at the Insect Pillars face for some time.

"I hope you don't find the organization's efforts lacking," Shinobu says, amusement plain on her face.

"That's definitely not the case. I've only looked through one," you hold up the notebook. "And it's been enlightening to say the least. The amount of detail in it is... mind blowing." You've read and researched enough on your own to tell how uncanny it is for a topic to be written this clearly and succinctly, and a niggle of self-doubt sprouts in your chest. "You mentioned to Oyakata-sama that you needed advice on transporting medical supplies, correct? I'm not sure how much help I can be, seeing as I'm primarily a grain merchant. I dabble in other types of goods on the side, but never before in medicine."

You've only looked through a single notebook, but considering the lengthy history of the Demon Slayer Corps and how vastly the organization has spread throughout Japan, you think every possible thing that can go wrong would already be accounted for with an uncanny level of foresight based on past experiences.

"Oh, you don't have to worry," Shinobu says. "Everything I brought out are simply primers to let you understand the various practices and businesses under the Ubuyashiki family. Oyakata-sama and I actually have a specific request that is hopefully, attuned to your strengths."

She goes back to rifle through the unlocked chest and takes out a sheath of paper bundled together with a fraying string. The largest moth-bitten document in the pile is spread over the knee-high table near the door, and she beckons you over to have a look. You make your way over in three strides, maintaining a respectable distance from her before you bend over to read it.

"This is a map?" You wrack your brains as to why she chooses to show you such a thing. After a solid minute of contemplation, your eyes skimming over the names of the various prefectures and regions, marked Pillar territories, the realization hits you head on. "I see... so my role in both operations is to ascertain if the transport routes that have been planned out are reliable."

"Your primary task, yes." Shinobu passes you a strange looking contraption you identify as a fountain pen. You gape at it for a few seconds. The Corps is certainly bleeding wealth, allowing common rank and file rabble like you to use this kind of exotic item. "Your second objective would be to mark down other, more efficient routes that you know of. It's purely optional, but accomplishing it would be immensely helpful. Depending on the information you give, we can make improvements to our current plans."

You can do that. You can do more than that, having uncovered and used non-traditional ways of travel to every city and village over the years. Transporting grain is similar to transporting other types of goods in that you'd always pick the safest, most cost-efficient path to reach your destination. The anxiety in your chest is dispelled, replaced with confidence. You grip the fountain pen and turn to her, nodding.

"I should be able to help greatly with both tasks."

"That's reassuring! I look forward to what you can accomplish when you start first thing tomorrow."

Your brows slant into a frown. "Why not immediately?"

It takes a second of Shinobu scrutinizing you to realize your mistake. Oh. No. You want to curl up and die. Where has your usual diplomatic skills gone to? You're already treading on thin ice after upsetting her earlier, and you've gone and done it again. The rules of the Demon Slayer Corps may be scant, but they are indomitable. You've witnessed what can happen to Slayers who defy the orders of those above them.

Shinobu lifts a hand to her mouth and titters. "While I'm glad to see you're eager to get down to business, it's already long past the time for dinner. I don't particularly want the reputation of a slave-driver, you realize? I would be upset if people started to despise me because of it."

You glance out of the window in surprise. How did you not notice the sky had already gone dark? "Pardon my rudeness, Shinobu-san. I didn't realize it was already this late." Evidently, you're more affected by your new job placement than you first noticed. You've not slipped up on simple etiquette or manners for a long time. "I'll accept any punishment you'll give for making you miss your meal."

Shinobu waves your apology away. "This is barely a matter worth fussing over. As long as we're working towards the same goals, no one can fault you for speaking your mind. Transparency and honesty are extremely important to me. Don't forget what I told you this morning, dear."

You try not to put too much worth into the term of endearment she uses. When she'd brought you to tour the estate, you'd observed the way she mingled with the occupants here. You were surprised to find out she treats kakushi, servants and slayers exactly alike. There is no bias in her words, no distinction in her attitudes. From what you hear, it is rare for a Pillar to act this way.

One method you caught on easily enough is how she breaks down the boundaries between her and others using affectionate language. There are many ways to open a person's heart, and this is the perfect method for a person such as Shinobu. With her charisma and genteel personality, it already makes it hard not to be charmed. People don't stand a chance when she actively goes out of her way to do it.

You now understand why she has such a expansive legion of admirers. It is simply inevitable, and with her being the only female pillar, her status within the Corps and everyone's hearts must be similar to how they view deities. Revered and untouchable.

"I appreciate the reminder. I will do as you suggest, then." You quickly fold the map and help Shinobu put it away. The notebooks are left where they are while the map, sensitive information it is, gets locked away with a beetle-shaped padlock. Not wasting anymore time, Shinobu then ushers you out of the laboratory and down the hallway.

It takes a fair bit of walking before you reach the main hallway connected to the mansion's entrance. Shinobu stops in front of a slatted wooden door, sliding it open to reveal an adequately sized dining hall fit for ten to fifteen people. The main dining table is a long and formal looking antique fenced by two smaller ones on its left and right.

You enter the room behind Shinobu. She goes ahead to seat herself at the head of the main dining table, which leaves you standing awkwardly near the door. You recognize the faces seated at the main table from your tour this afternoon. They are the girls under Shinobu's tutelage and from their attitude towards her, you can tell the group is tight knit with bonds identical to those of a real family.

"Shinobu-sama," The twin tailed girl you recall as Aoi says. "We almost thought you wouldn't be eating with us tonight." A quick glance around shows you the faces of hungry children. Their attention revolves between you and the food in front of them and though comical, you feel a stab of guilt at being the one to place them in that position.

You drop into a kneel. "It was due to my inefficiency. I apologize for forcing you all to wait."

"T-There's no need for that!" Aoi's mortification stops you from bowing. You look up to see her staring straight at you, quite obviously conflicted by your deference. She's around the same age as when you first joined the Corps, slight baby fat yet to fade from her cheeks. "We're the ones who wanted to wait to eat with Shinobu-sama. And we were already expecting a short delay, anyway."

"Tsuchinoto-san, have you already forgotten what I told you?"

You flush in embarrassment at her scolding tone. "My apologies."

When you're back on your feet and sheepishly taking a second look around for a place to sit, you finally notice three pairs of eyes gazing wondrously at you. The butterfly girls, Sumi, Kiyo and Naho, don't seem too perturbed by your presence, unlike the other Aoi and the other girl sitting blankly beside Shinobu... what was her name, again? Kanao? You're not the sort of person to force someone to acknowledge your presence, so you take her purposeful ignoring of you in stride.

Back to the three butterfly girls, you suppose their receptiveness to your sudden intrusion has been tempered by working at the Butterfly Mansion. They seem to be considerably younger as well, which might have something to do with it. Children tend to indulge in curiosity rather than be wary.

You meet their gazes head on. You feel the embarrassed pinch of your lips melt into a genuine smile and give them an acknowledging nod. The three girls break away to exchange looks. Then suddenly–

"You can sit beside us!" they call out in unison.

Shinobu pins you with amused smirk that makes you duck your head. When you slide into the offered seat beside Kiyo, the girl with two pink butterfly clips, Shinobu brings her hands together in a clap.

"I'm grateful everyone waited on us. All of you must be starving, so don't hold back and eat your fill," she says, smiling indulgently. The emotion behind this smile is softer than the ones directed at you, spilling over with pure, unadulterated affection.

Before you dig into your meal, you turn to Kiyo and the other two girls. They pause their chatter, giving you time to say, "Thank you for letting me sit here."

They beam happily at your words, and it is Kiyo who says, "You're welcome, Tsuchinoto-san!"

The rest of the dinner passes without fanfare. You don't speak, merely soak up the chatter between the everyone at the table. Shinobu doesn't participate much, but when she does contribute, all the girls stop to listen intently. It is easy to grasp Shinobu's position in their hearts.

Occasionally, even the blank faced girl Kanao will chime in with her own opinions. It is strange, but she seems to flips some sort of coin before she speaks. You file that information away, though you doubt you'd bring it up with the Insect Pillar. Whatever the girl's reasons, they are none of your business.

Though you don't contribute, you find the company pleasant. It has been a long time since you've eaten in such an intimate setting, surrounded by people with no ulterior motives or harboured grudges. An added bonus is that the food is a hundred times better than the roadside fare you're used to. You've scarfed down everything on your tray before everyone else has made a dent in theirs.

Chicken with breadcrumbs, the meat tender and springy. Dishes of fresh vegetables steeped in sauce. A bowl of lukewarm miso, sprinkled with green onions and a generous offering of rice. This isn't a meal, it's a feast.

You're nursing your fourth cup of tea, your stomach basking in utter contentment, when something pulls on the corner of your haori sleeve. You look down to see Kiyo tugging it, but when you look up with a question on your lips, it is Sumi who grabs your attention. Her butterfly winged hairbands catch the light and glimmer blue as she leans over Kiyo, her chopsticks extended in your direction.

"Tsuchinoto-san," she says in a lowered voice. The piece of fishcake between her chopsticks dances a cheerful little jig. "Take this. Thank you for helping Shinobu nee-san!"

The open expression she wears practically radiates joy, and beside her, Kiyo looks equally delighted. You see the other butterfly girl, Naho, peeking at you in a similarly excited manner.

Your hands curl into fists. If anything happens to these children, you will kill everything that dares hurt them, and then yourself.

You thank her and take the offered treat. You're chewing on the fishcake just as carrots are deposited in your bowl. A faint, pleading whisper rings out, "Tsuchinoto-san, Tsuchinoto-san. Naho can't finish her veggies. Can you help?"

Your recall a time when you had done the same for someone else. Your heart twists uncomfortably, but you reply with a confident, "Of course."

This enjoyable dinner has to come to an end eventually. Aoi, who you find out is the one responsible for tonight's meal, comes around to clear everyone's trays. When she collects yours and gets to the three girls, you see her squint at their suspiciously empty trays.

Standing between Naho and Sumi, Aoi questions, "You three finished everything? Even the vegetables?"

She receives a chorus of "Yes, Aoi!" and turns to direct her suspicious stare onto you. Her forehead lightly creases when you don't react, nothing impeccable at all about how you're carrying yourself. You did not become a successful merchant without being able to handle pressure.

"The food was delicious, Kanzaki-san," you say. "The meat was exceptionally tender. I've been to restaurants which charge high prices for something that delectable. What did you use to marinate it?"

"...Kanzaki is too formal," Aoi replies. "And I'm younger than you, so you don't really need to use a honorific."

"Then, Aoi." You nod. "The sauce you used for the meat. Do you think you could tell me what you used?"

"Nothing special that can't be bought at the market." Aoi looks thoughtful. Good, you've distracted her. "I'll write down what I used and pass it to you next time. If you aren't used to cooking, I think it's doable even for beginners."

When Aoi leaves with a pile of tray gathered in her arms, you catch the eyes of your fellow conspirators and grin. When the three girls run off, following on the heels of Kanao, you decide it's time to retire to your temporary accommodations. The room Shinobu allotted you is fairly close to the private lab. Maybe you can whisk one of those notebooks back for a quick read before bed.

Thinking this, you push your chair aside to stand.

"You shouldn't spoil them too much," Shinobu says.

Your hand gripping the chair goes stiff. With an aching slowness, you turn to face the Insect Pillar. Despite her casual smile, chills inexplicably run down your spine.

"I shall overlook it tonight, but keep in mind how your actions affect them in the long term. I won't be happy if I'm forced to discipline them." Shinobu's eyes are glacial. If you didn't know she'd mastered the breath of the insect, you'd assume she'd control over the ice element.

It takes all of your strength to not swallow. "...I understand," you say. Though you are struck by the urge to escape the dining hall this instant, Shinobu looks as if she has more to say. You will your feet to stay in place and wait, albeit tensed, for her to gather her words. What she says next is not what you expect.

"You mentioned this afternoon there should be no shame in abandoning fights one cannot win." You answer her with a nod. Her stare turns distant. Her lips form a flat line you'd normally assume as distaste, only in this case, the negativity she harbours doesn't seem to be directed at you. "But if a person is forced into a fight that ends in their death, even if the enemy is defeated... will it still be counted as their loss?"

"This enemy," you ask. "Is it a demon?"

Shinobu nods gravely. "Based on what you said, then even if this person gives up their life to kill the demon, victory still goes to Kibutsuji and his ilk. Most people would hate this outcome with every fibre of their being."

"That's the main reason this opinion is unpopular, yes." The few Slayers you told your opinion to had flown into a rage. You don't blame them.

"I don't understand." Unlike the others, Shinobu sounds genuinely curious at why you continue to defend this viewpoint. "If death ends in our loss, then doesn't it mean humans destined to lose? Thinking like this breeds hopelessness."

"The problem is that people assume the victory of a human is the same as a demon's." This is a thought you've always held, and since Shinobu has asked for clarification of her own volition, there is no reason for you to mince your words. "When a slayer goes up against them and survives, even if they live out the rest of their lives without encountering another demon again, it won't change the fact that they've won."

Shinobu waits patiently as you pause to deliberate on your next words. "On the other hand," you continue, "A demon is only victorious if they kill the slayer out for their blood, but so long as they continue to live, even if one slayer dies, more will inevitably come seeking revenge. And unless the Demon Slayer Corps ceases to exist..." You meet her eyes and for first time since arriving at the mansion, let your lips stretch into a wide grin.

Shinobu's laugh rings sweetly throughout the dining hall. "Then there will always be slayers, humans, to oppose them." Her elbows on the table, she gently rests her chin atop her steepled fingers. "I see. So that's what you mean when you say you want slayers to live."

"It's quite a long winded explanation," you say. "But with this, I hope I've cleared up any misconceptions you might have."

"Your way of thinking isn't wrong." Her expression turns teasing. "Though I suggest you change the way you word your opinion. If you'd said what you intended from the start, I have a feeling that opinion would gain popularity fairly easily."

You cough into your fist. "I... will take your words into consideration."

"That is all I wished to say. Please have a good rest. I look forward to seeing you at breakfast tomorrow."

You leave the room with a sluggish bow, amazed at how the conversation had played out. You never thought Shinobu would rehash the topic, not when she obviously disagreed when you first brought it up.

When you settle into the futon that night, you recall her surprised expression with some satisfaction. You think with a flash of irony how Shinobu is the first person to discover the true meaning of your intent, when she was supposed to be one who would adamantly refuse to listen.

Chapter Text

The passage of time is swifter than you prefer it to be, and it isn't long before you've spent two whole weeks at Butterfly Mansion. Each day follows the same routine – waking before dawn, enjoying a quick breakfast courtesy of either Aoi or the estate's Kakushi, then doing research until it comes time for dinner – albeit with minor deviations as you settle into the rhythm of living with strangers.

A large chunk of your research time sees you spending hours in the laboratory pouring over the notebooks Shinobu handed over, and you discover early into your reading warpath how much you've been underestimating the Demon Slayer Corps.

You always found it impressive how an organization as large as this has survived the passing of eras and remained prolific, eluding the government despite its activities literally spanning the country. It never crosses your mind to seek out the reasons behind its success, your rank and duties being what occupies your attention majority of the time, but it's different now that an entire wealth of information has been willingly dropped into your lap.

Knowledge and the ability to execute on it. You identify these as key factors which have ensured the Demon Slayer Corps' continued survival.

Handwritten annals from decades past, topographical maps, detailed accounts of natural disasters and demon attacks from long gone villages, towns and cities from the ancient era up to the current year... you are confident this information cannot be found anywhere else. Even notes on innocuous subjects like agriculture and fine arts have been hoarded like gold.

Just how deeply do roots of the Ubuyashiki Family run for them to have this much information casually sitting around? All the books and notes used in your research would have cost nothing less than half of the country's treasury should you have sought them by yourself. If the books and notes Shinobu has on hand is capable of putting national scholar libraries to shame, you can't begin to fathom the scale of information which Oyakata-sama houses back at headquarters.

By the time you wrap up your research to start on your assigned tasks, your doubts on whether is it possible to live up to the expectations placed on you are completely forgotten. With the knowledge gathered at your fingertips, even if you'd been underqualified, you think it would've been impossible to fail.

It also helps that Shinobu's words had not been lip service. Combining your experience in trade and the fruits of your research, you manage to produce fairly remarkable results in a short span of time.

You dig out all manner of flaws from the plans given by Shinobu and Oyakata-sama. The transport logistics of medical supplies are rewritten to accommodate your new insights, while existing trade under the Ubuyashiki family see a number of marked improvements. The use of water-faring modes of transport will make transport of goods more efficient, and by successfully renegotiating existing deals, the businesses are set to turn better profits.

Your workaholism also ends up rewarding you. The organization's previously stalled trade plans you had dusted off and rewritten in your spare time were spirited away to be looked over. According to the kakushi who reported back to you, those end up being accepted as well, though they won't be implemented until more manpower is secured.

It comes as no surprise your efforts will be rewarded. You didn't work like a man possessed for monetary benefit, but you won't turn down recognition for your success. It will help ensure you're less hated among fellow slayers, especially the ones who think you just a coward or greedy merchant.

You convey your lack of desire for a tangible reward to Oyakata-sama, but as compensation for not receiving a tangible reward, you are given permanent access to the notes and tomes you've read thus far. You are also allowed to request for copies of books from the Demon Slayer Corps' main library. Though you can't take any of these things out of the Butterfly Estate, this favour granted to you is almost too ridiculous to comprehend.

This is something not even the riches of an Emperor can acquire. Knowledge is power, and it can be seen how much Oyakata-sama trusts you to allow such a thing. Your loyalty to the Demon Slayer Corps has never been shaky, but this act of faith ensures if there ever comes a day where Ubuyashiki Kagaya is in danger, you will gladly give up your life if it means protecting him.

And years later, when reflecting on your achievements from the period where the threat of Muzan still loomed, you will find yourself laughing at your past self for the assumptions he made. Ubuyashiki's favour and the authority to access an endless supply knowledge is well and fantastic, but compared to what you end up gaining from your time at Butterfly Mansion, those things are simply incomparable.

---

You look up at the sound of the door sliding open. Shinobu glides across the lab dressed in her usual Pillar garb, looking fresh as a daisy despite returning from a mission a little over ten hours ago. The stampede of feet had woken you up this morning, and you'd gone back to sleep after confirming it was simply Aoi and the rest who'd been rushing about.

Their enthusiasm is understandable, though. Shinobu has been gone for slightly over two days, but you were starting to feel antsy. It is remarkable how much you have gotten used to her presence that you're more used to her being present than not.

"Good afternoon," Shinobu greets with her usual cheery air. "Are you surprised to see me?"

The 'Welcome back' on your tongue slithers back down your throat. Despite two weeks of peaceful co-existence, you refuse to let yourself be presumptuous.

"I heard the commotion last night," you reply. "It was of a delighted sort, so I assumed your mission went well. Was I right?"

"You certainly are. I only ran into a single demon. Disappointing, but then again, scouting missions are rarely exciting." Shinobu settles herself at her desk and starts to clear up the papers strewn across its broad surface. You assume the end to the short conversation and make to return to your work when she asks, "You're always busy working when I see you. Did you receive more work from Oyakata-sama?"

"I am doubtful this falls under that category." You look down at your journal. You had been sketching the concept of a throwable weapon inspired by several celebratory items you'd seen during the New Year. Your morning plan was to study up on the books Shinobu recommended, but it seems your listless mind had other plans. "Calling it a hobby might be more apt. It's something I do when I have free time."

"And what does your hobby entail?" Shinobu is looking at you now, curiosity dancing in her amethyst eyes.

"Nothing too exciting. Just jotting down any ideas so I can look at them when I get free time during a mission. You never know if something in here ends up as the final cog in an idea that makes me a fortune." This journal also doubles as your diary, not that you'd tell her. In your weaker moments, purging your thoughts onto paper has helped you immensely.

"You're quite the workaholic. You shouldn't work so hard, you know?" Shinobu sets down the gathered pile of papers at one corner, and starts dusting off the army of glass tubes and beacons she'd left there the last time she was here. "I heard people age faster if they put themselves under too much pressure. It would be terribly sad to lose an enterprising individual Oyakata-sama praised."

You can't help but laugh. When she shoots you a look of confusion, you gesture at your surroundings. "I do believe you've rubbed off on me. Practice what you preach, Shinobu-san."

"My," Shinobu shakes her head, wearing an exaggerated, wry smile. "I miss when you acted more reserved. You've grown cheeky enough to tease me, I see."

"It comes with practice," you say, looking away to feign arrogance. "I learnt that from you as well." Shinobu's refreshing laugh sweeps away your lethargy. You find yourself laughing along with her, buoyed by her casualness with you.

After your first day at Butterfly Mansion, bar the initial confusion caused by your poorly worded stance on life for a slayer, living with the insect pillar has gone surprisingly well. Research is a lonely endeavour, but because you work in the laboratory Shinobu herself frequently inhabits, you think you've spent more time with her than anyone else here. Working in such close proximity, it is inevitable that both of you would strike up conversations with each other.

As an added bonus to being on good terms with the person responsible for inventing poisons to counter Demons, you have received valuable insights in her field of study by way of discussions and first-hand accounts of her genius. Like the tomes of information she provided, Shinobu's companionship is also a reward in itself.

"A good student should seek to surpass their teacher," Shinobu says, smiling. "In this case it means you've done well, dear."

You ignore the rush of heat to your cheeks. "Why, thank you kindly."

One thing you're still unused to is Shinobu's flirtatious behaviour. You are thankful for your varied experience in sales and hiding of your true emotions, or your good relations with her would have soured long before you could get to this point. Aside from her fellow Pillars, you've noticed the reactions toward Shinobu are split between 'attracted' and 'fearful'. You understand their reasons, attractive people have a tendency to evoke the more primal parts of a human's behaviour, but it doesn't mean you wish to fall into the same trap.

Something that has helped you maintain your sense of sanity, however, is that your contact with her will likely be minimized once you receive your next mission. You're not a perssimist, but you're not so bold to assume Shinobu will let you continue to stay here now that your task for Oyakata-sama is deemed complete.

Your banter is interrupted when the cries of a familiar voice cut through the air.

"Mission! MI-SS-ION!" Your kasugai crow alights on the windowsill looking into the lab. It flaps its wings, its noisy caw resounding in the large room. "Go to Fukiya, FU-KI-YA! Demon sighted, demon SIGH-TED!"

And just like that, your peaceful days spent in Butterfly Mansion are no more. You anticipated this, but you hadn't thought it would be so... crushing. Emotions are such fickle creatures. Shrugging off your disappointment as best you can, you glance at the mess around you.

"You'll have to give me some time to clear everything here, Shinobu-san. I'm afraid I might have been too enthusiastic." You spy the corner occupied by bundles upon bundles of parchments filled with messy scrawls and diagrams and groan. You lower your voice, muttering, "How am I going to move my notes...?"

The prospect of dragging these bounded sheaths of paper to your house is not fun thought to entertain. The task itself is not hard or difficult beyond measure, just annoying. Truly, what you're dreading is returning to your empty house, probably dusty from misuse by now, and brimming with painful memories.

"Clear everything, you say? You mean you won't be making use of the permission Oyakata-sama has granted to you? I imagine he would be sorely disappointed to hear that."

You hurry to correct her misunderstanding. "Ah, no, of course I will. I plan to do so once I complete my mission. I thought it would be better to work at my own house, and it might be a little far to be bringing the notes back and forth, but I'm sure I can make do."

"Your home, outside of headquarters?"

Shinobu points out the flaw in your plan in a nonchalant tone. You bring your forehead in a loud smack. You've completely forgotten you aren't allowed to bring out the notes you've gained access to. The order you received clearly stated you had to be at the Butterfly Mansion in order to read them.

"Right, how careless... it completely slipped my mind."

"You are welcome to continue making use of my laboratory," Shinobu says. "Or did you think I would dispose of your notes during your absence? How cold."

"That's not what–" You see the smirk plastered on her face. "You make me a little mad sometimes, Shinobu-san."

She glides over and gently pats your cheek. "As repayment, I'll allow you to continue using the room you're staying in."

You give her your startled thanks and watch her leave the room after tidying up her desk. The dotted rim of her butterfly coat trails behind her before she shuts the door with a quiet thump. You stand in place for some time, marvelling at the sudden turn of events. Even daydreams have never been this odd.

"FU-KI-YA!"

You wince at your Kasugai Crow's impatient tone. "Yes, yes, I'm going."

Chapter Text

One hand fists the knot of cloth while the other cradles the bottom of the wrapped bento box. Heat seeps through the patchy material, and your stomach rumbles as you guess what might be inside.

"Thanks for the meal!" You call out to Aoi's retreating back.

She spins around, striking her usual pose, hands placed firmly on her hips.

"It'll be a waste if you didn't eat it," Aoi yells back. Her voice takes on an echoey quality as it rebounds off the wooden walls. "I used a new recipe for today's karaage, so tell me what you think of it when you get back!"

You give her a parting wave before she steps through the doorway leading to the dining hall. The heat from the object in your hands spreads through your chest, and you stare at it with an eager smile. Other than fried chicken, you wonder what else Aoi has packed into the square container. You remember the scent of something acrid clinging to her when she'd handed you the bento. Radish, or perhaps a mix of pickled vegetables. You'd be delighted, either way.

Your smile melts into a grimace. This handmade meal is the prelude to weeks of dry, crusted field rations and hastily prepped meals under the cover of darkness. You've been spoiled rotten by the meals at the Butterfly Mansion, and it won't be an easy feat to go back to bland, undercooked roadside fare. You have yet to leave and already, you find yourself missing the taste of fresh vegetables and marinated meats. Setting Aoi aside, the cooks here are more than competent, and you've thoroughly enjoyed all your meals here.

You shake off that depressing thoughts and crouch by the doorway to get your belongings in order. The bento fits safely at the bottom of the knapsack, over which you add an extra uniform, emergency first aid, and your trusty journal. Slayers aim to travel as light as possible, but it pays to be prepared. Solo missions carry inherent risks, even for Pillars. Bleeding out in a rural area is not anyone's definition of heroism.

Sumi, Naho and Kiyo bid you a safe journey when they caught you in the hallways earlier. They made you promise to come back safely, and just the thought of having someone look forward to your return causes something in your chest to flutter. It's been a long time since you last had anyone care about your existence.

That thought sobers you. Don't the inhabitants of the Butterfly Mansion show their concern to everyone? From how they interact with the injured slayers, you might even say they are too kind for their own good. To them, you are probably little more than a passing acquaintance. You best consider your rank and the fact that your luck might run out soon.

Being self-aware will save everyone the heartbreak, yourself included. You have no familial ties to anyone here and never will.

Don't mistake their care for affection, you remind yourself, pausing to sling your knapsack over your shoulder. You glance at the crack in the door where sunlight tumbles through. Well, you've wasted enough time. It's better to be out of the prefecture before the sun sets, or you risk running into all sorts of unsavoury characters.

"There you are," Shinobu's voice echoes down the hallway. "I'm glad I could catch you before you left!"

You remove your hand from the doorframe. You turn to see her darting toward you with enviable swiftness. You silently marvel at how her footsteps never make a sound despite the aged floorboards squeaking like a tortured mouse under your own feet.

"Did something happen?" you ask.

A hint of worry might have mixed into your confusion because Shinobu's tone turns reassuring, "Nothing awful as you might be thinking. I merely wanted to ask if you could do me a favour. A small one. It shouldn't take too much of your time or effort."

Even if it were, you're still touched she trusts you enough to ask. "I don't mind helping if it's in my ability to do so. What do you need?"

Shinobu gestures for you to hold out your hand. When you do so, she deposits a familiar hairpin in your palm. You recognize it as the one the girl, Kanao, constantly wears, green butterfly wings rimmed by thick pink lines and swhite dots.

"Please take this with you," Shinobu says. "Keep an eye out for paints of these colours. I've looked almost everywhere in my territory, but for some reason they are impossible to get a hold of. It's quite frustrating."

You bring the hairpin closer, peering at it for a better look. On second observation there are dull patches in several areas, and miniscule but worrying cracks spreading outward from the elongated metal base the wing-like instruments sit atop. You assume she plans to restore the clip to its former state, however...

"I hope you don't take this the wrong way, Shinobu-san." You feel bad for what you're about to say, but far be it you give her false hope. "I don't think a new coat of paint will hold it together for much longer. Getting a new one would be a wiser choice."

For the first time since you've known her, Shinobu hesitates. Her gaze remains fixed on the butterfly hairpin, her eyes flashing with grief. It's easy to place the emotion given how regularly you see it in your own reflection. Seeing it on Shinobu shakes loose a particular piece of memory, and you abruptly recall a tale you had eavesdropped from a group of particularly gossipy slayers you once worked with.

Before you can apologize for insinuating she throw away one of her deceased sister's final keepsakes, Shinobu says, "I did consider hiring someone to create a replacement. Since it has yet to break, though, I'd like to extend this kanzashi's life for as long as I can."

You nod solemnly. "Alright, I promise to do my best." You gently touch the wings of the butterfly kanzashi, noting down the texture. Acrylic paints would work best for these. Confident, you hand the clip back to Shinobu. "I won't need to bring it along. I've already memorised the colours you're asking for," you explain when she levels you a blank stare.

Shinobu gives you a thin-lipped smile which makes her seem three times her size. "Excessive confidence may come back to bite you. Won't things be easier on the both of us if you take the clip along?"

There is an undertone of disbelief in Shinobu's voice. You don't blame her for being incredulous and she has every right to be worried. Your confidence must seem unfounded since she has no idea where its coming from.

For you, memorizing a handful of colours is child's play compared to the lengthy mental lists you used to juggling, and its regular practice for merchants to know the origin of every item which passes through their hands. Using logbooks to keep track of inventories is common, but keeping a mental record of what and who you're selling your goods to is equally important. Vital, even, if you get into trouble down the road.

"I don't mind bringing the kanzashi along," you say. "I'm just worried something might happen on the mission, and honestly... I'd prefer to avoid destroying what's clearly something precious to you."

Shinobu's smile fades, her eyes widening imperceptibly. "Oh," she answers, voice feather soft. "I see."

You watch her consider your dilemma, waiting patiently for her to decide if you can leave without it. From this side of the door, you can hear the errant flapping of wings and an incessant cawing that bastardises your name. You resist the urge to cover your face. Goodness, your kasugai crow has the ego the size of Mount Fuji. You'd definitely have to soothe it with some of your lunch if you don't want any obnoxious surprises later.

"Please wait a moment," Shinobu says suddenly.

She moves swiftly, so quick that you blink and see her halfway down the hallway. When she returns a minute later, she's holding a different accessory sporting the same tones as Kanao's hairpin. "This obi clip was made as an experiment, so the colours aren't wholly accurate. However, it should be enough to help you find what I'm looking for."

Shinobu hands it to you. You thrust it into your knapsack for safekeeping.

"Thank you. This will work just as well," you say.

Shinobu sees you off with a gentle smile. "Return safely, my dear Tsuchinoto."

You flee the estate with her teasing laughter at your back.

Time marches forward. It takes a week of travel from Demon Slayer headquarters before you reach Fukiya, a village in Okayama prefecture where your designated target has been residing. Like every sudden mission you're given, your lack of time to gather information about the destination ends in resigned surprise when you finally arrive.

Fukiya was a remote village, something you correctly assumed given the map shows it tucked deep inside a mountain range. Unfortunately, what you hadn't expected was that its isolation didn't deter travellers in the slightest. You are rarely thrown off, but it had been quite the nasty surprise to find the village packed to the brim when you arrived.

In hindsight, you should have expected it. Why would a demon make an area its hunting ground if not for the sheer amount of potential victims?

You set about asking around and easily discover the reason for Fukiya's renown. The village's reputation is apparently built on the back of its production of red pigment using iron from its nearby mines, and the scores of people milling about were either budding or established artisans hoping to get ahold of the material. Merchants, too, came in waves for obvious reasons. You could practically smell the money in the air.

You insantly understood the fanaticism of some of these people when you laid eyes on the clay roof tiles of the buildings, made using the sought after red pigment. The tiles were shaded deep red, the crimson resembling fresh blooming spider lilies, and in the late afternoon sun the colour seemed to morph a shade darker into a colour that was eerily reminiscent of dried blood.

However, despite your admiration for Fukiya's flourishing state, your search for the demon devolved into nothing less than a waking nightmare. The high foot traffic made information gathering a headache, but adding a crafty demon into that mix went like how you would expect.

Lone travellers, the homeless, beggars. Trails you painstakingly uncovered ran cold when there was no one to question, and your repeated enquiries to the village guards hadn't helped things. Thewhispers and glares that follow you whenever you passed became nigh unbearable by the end of your first week in Fukiya. Your strange dressing and unknown motives probably made it easy for the locals to mark you as some kind of spy.

Knowing you couldn't continue as you had, you hatched another plan. You left Fukiya and travelled to the next nearest village, and after a day or so, returned with an entirely new identity. The changing of an outfit and one's hairstyle were simple tricks that could make a person look entirely different. Taking advantage of your valid merchant background, you then spent the next few days going from shop to shop, writing down a list of materials and informing shopkeepers of your interest to procure their wares on your next trip.

Firmly establishing yourself as a travelling merchant, you executed the next part of your new plan. When the sun went down, you visited travellers bars, mingling until late into the night. Your temporary accommodations included bars you pretended to pass out at and the nearby forest with plenty of shelter. You repeated this for three days, until finally, your target took the bait and descended upon you like a starving animal when you enter the forest.

When you blindside the demon with a heavy slash that sends its head flying, you think it the easiest part of the entire mission. Your strength and skill might not be comparable to higher ranked Slayers, but a demon that relies on sneak attacks stands little chance against you.

And so, after a week of travel, two whole weeks of tracking and ultimately killing the demon, your mission finally comes to a close. This isn't the longest mission you've been on, but it certainly feels like it. You check into the inn and sleep the rest of the night away in pillowy comfort, only sending your kasugai crow to report in the morning.

What a tedious and unfulfilling mission, you grumble to yourself as you stroll down the streets in the afternoon sun. The one silver lining to being in Fukiya is the varied amount of interesting objects you've come across. There are plenty of things you can purchase to bring back as souvenirs.

"Mister, you're back!" The spritely boy greets, bouncing up to you when you enter the shop. "Did you change your mind? I thought you weren't gonna get anythin' till your next trip." He peers up eagerly, his infectious energy drawing a grin from you.

"I remember what I said." You gesture at the rows of ceramic pottery, some plain and some etched with art, all glazed with light and innumerable colours. "But I thought better of it. Going home empty handed when I've found plenty of beautiful wares is really a waste."

"I could've told ya that, mister! Anyway, you know everything we're sellin' here, yeah?" The boy scrunches his nose, apparently recalling the day you grilled him for a list of all the items this shop sold. "I spent so much time talkin' last time, my mouth went numb after you left!"

As if beckoned by improper tone, a heavyset woman with hard lines in her face pops up from behind the counter. She slaps the boy on the back of his head, making him yelp. "How many times have I told you to be polite? Sorry, sir, the boy's got a big mouth on him."

You wave off her bows, comforting her by saying, "It's fine, it's fine. Children should have spirit. It makes everything more interesting."

The boy's mouth widens into a shrewd smile. "Ma, don't worry about it! If this mister buys more than three items, I'll be polite to 'im even if he forces me to run laps around the village."

You pat his shoulder. He has a fair bit of gumption despite his youth. You hadn't been this good with words, or even liked conversing with adults and strangers when you were the same age. Too rebellious and headstrong, excited to experience the world on your own terms. The boy has a bright future ahead of him if he ever succeeds the store.

"I liked that vase you brought out, last time," you say. "Do you still have it?"

"Yeah, we do!"

You nod, pleased. "And the donabe?"

"I'll bring em' out as you asked. And how about one last item, to round everything off nicely?"

You chuckle at his overzealous expression and look around the shop for your third selection. Your gaze lands on a tea vessel at the topmost shelf. It's exceedingly well-made, enough that you find yourself enamoured by it even from a distance. There is blizzard of petals dancing across its surface, pink and purples melding into a soothing, but nonetheless attractive, colour scheme.

You point to it. "How about–"

The vessel is abruptly snatched from the shelf. The man who clutches it is tall, dressed in flowing robes that ripple like tussled silk. His almond shape eyes narrow when they land on you. You blink. You hadn't heard him enter the shop. Had he always been there?

The boy cries out indignantly. "Hey, who said you could grab our stuff like 'hat?!" His anger is comical, especially when he rolls up his sleeves in preparation to stomp over. The show is cut short when an elderly man picks him up by the scruff of his neck, arm muscles straining as he lifts the boy several feet off the ground. Despite having a head full of white hair, it's obvious he has a long way to go before his strength withers.

"I apologize for my granson's attitude," he says, bowing at the well-dressed man. He turns to you, giving you an identical bow. "I'm sorry sir, but that young master has already paid for that tea vessel several days ago. It was my failing to neglect to inform my nephew that it is no longer for sale."

There's no mistaking the sincerity of his tone. You shake your head, smiling reassuringly. "Do not worry, I was simply browsing. It is certainly a lovely tea vessel, but you have countless others, I'm sure. I can pick another."

You are slightly disappointed, because it looked perfect for someone you had in mind. Still, that man has already laid claim to it, and you doubt kicking up a fuss over the tea vessel would make anyone happy.

The elder looks relieved. He drops the boy and gives him a warning look. "Help wrap the young master's purchase."

The boy glares back. His grandfather's stare is unmoving, and his expression turns sullen. "Fine," he bites out. He gives a half-hearted bow to the young master. "Come this way... sir. I'll wrap it for you."

You step aside to let the man in the flowing robes pass by. You see the crest on his back and blink. It seems familiar... but why?

When the boy finishes packing up the tea vessel, the man takes it without a word. He is halfway out of the store when he suddenly turns to you, nose turned up, the corner of his mouth twitching. "Your rank."

You raise a brow. "I'm sorry?"

The man scoffs. "Are you hard of hearing? I'm asking for your rank, Slayer."

You changed back to your Slayer uniform after spending the night at the inn, and your missing haori means the kanji emblazoned on your back is fully revealed. Given he's identified you as a Slayer, it probably means he's the same. His attitude however, is completely unnecessary. Young master is right, you can't think of anyone you've met who is this hostile and domineering without the backing of a wealthy family behind him.

You stare back, irked by his tone but still maintaining your cool. "Me, sir? I'm a Tsuchinoto."

He looks unbearably smug at your admission. "Unfortunate. Unless you reach Kinoe, I will refrain from inviting you for tea. We wouldn't have anything substantial to speak about before then."

You eyebrow arches even higher. You're impressed he's made it to Kinoe, but not by his imagined superiority. You've met your share of upstart Slayers, and there's only one way to deal with the likes of them. Beating them at their own game.

"I suppose we don't. I am doubtful of what you could offer me." The man's face falls, and you hear a boyish snicker from somewhere in the shop. "As for the tea... well, I will not claim to have your good tastes. I will enjoy some dregs of my own later."

"It seems the demon slayers roaming around are no better than boars in their manners. And to think my family wastes their resources taking care of men like you. I should hope we never have to meet again, lest your uselessness rub off on me." With a snort, the man sweeps out of the shop without another word. You catch sight of the crest of his back once more, and this time, you take his words and put two and two together.

The crest of the Wisteria family. It was no wonder it had looked familiar. There hasn't been a Slayer who never found themselves on the doorsteps of that family's house in the duration of their career. This is the first time you heard of that family being managed, or having a Slayer in their midst. With a rank as high as Kinoe, could he be just a regular member of the Wisteria Family or someone more important...?

"I'm sorry you had to see that," you say to the family of three.

"I wish I could've broke tha' teacup," the boy mutters darkly. "Just cause he's a young master doesn't mean he gets to throw his weight around."

The elder steps forward and gives you a friendly clap on the back. "You handled his misplaced arrogance well. If you had the temper of my nephew, you might have wrecked the entire shop and drowned in the debt that followed!"

"It think what just occurred is a misunderstanding of epic proportions." You play it off. "I hardly deserve your praise, sir. He might have been arrogant, but I doubt we would have come to blows."

You keep to yourself that you didn't pick a fight because you had nothing to prove. Men like that would take it the wrong way regardless. He'd likely assume you were rude and defiant because you were envious. You have seen plenty of youth of large families be corrupted by excessive wealth and status.

The elderly man chuckles, waving his hand. "Well, if there's anything I can help with outside of giving you a discount, don't hesitate to tell me. So long as you have enough yen, there are no mountains I cannot scale!" He laughs uproariously at his declaration, ignoring the chorus of sighs from his daughter and grandson.

You chuckle along with him. Suddenly, you recall the obi clip you brought with you. Swinging your rucksack over your shoulder, you feel your pulse quicken with excitement as you say, "Actually, I think I have something you could help with me with..."

Chapter Text

A delicious scent wafted through the crack between the wooden doors. It trickled into the lab and gradually dispersed, filling the room with a delicate, mouth-watering aroma.

"Oh, lunchtime already?" Shinobu capped the jar of wisteria poison and glanced out the window. The sky was cloudless, the blazing ball hanging from the highest point circled by blue in all directions. Time seemed to pass too rapidly when she was engrossed in her work.

Shinobu looked at the mess of documents around her. She reached for her notebook, only to be halted by another pang of hunger. Shinobu sighed. She skipped breakfast this morning since she'd dearly wanted to achieve the objectives she set out for today's experiment. She had certainly done what she set out to do, but looking at everything else she'd yet to complete…

Shinobu brought her hands together, the clap dissipating some of the heavy silence. "I had better not push myself too hard. Since Aoi's already made lunch, I'll take this chance for short rest."

After the years spent running the Butterfly Mansion, Shinobu had a good grasp on her limits. Skipping two meals in a row was normal on a mission, but it would be unbeneficial to tax herself during her 'rest periods'. If she were suddenly sent on an emergency mission, her odds of success would be far lower than if she left in peak health.

Reluctantly setting her work aside, Shinobu left her lab and made her way to the mansion's shared dining hall. It was empty of kakushi at this time of day since they preferred to eat at the end of their shifts, and the Slayers recuperating here were placed on strict diets for faster recovery, which meant whatever they ate had already been preplanned and prepped.

Enjoying the company of her family during lunch was one of the small, but no less significant things Shinobu enjoyed when she wasn't on a mission.

When Shinobu stepped into the dining hall, she realized she was earlier than she'd anticipated when there was no one to be seen. The direction of the kitchen bustled with noise, so she assumed today's cook, Aoi, was still in the midst of preparing food. Shinobu was about to seat herself at the table when she saw sets of bento boxes already placed in front of each respective seat. In the center of the long table, steam wisped from the spout of the teapot in long, translucent tendrils.

Shinobu blinked, taken aback by the sight. Everything seemed to be prepared, so why was Aoi still in the kitchen? She couldn't be cleaning up, that was something she usually left for after everyone had taken their meals. Perhaps there would be an additional dish or some kind of dessert?

Shinobu turned when she heard the door behind her slide open. Sumi and Kiyo walked in, their faces vividly expressive as they chattered. Directly behind them was an equally buoyant looking Naho, followed by the stone-faced Kanao. Shinobu couldn't help but smile.

"Shinobu-neesan!" Kiyo chirped. Her greeting was echoed by the rest save for Kanao, who defaulted to her usual address for Shinobu. "Master," she mumbled, dipping her head in a short nod. They walked around the beaming Insect Pillar towards their seats, and Shinobu rubbed the top of Kanao's head when the girl toddled past.

Kanao had come a long way from when she used to sequester herself in her own room, her blank gaze fixed at the wall for hours. She and Kanae, though it was more her older sister's doing, had gradually coaxed the girl into interacting with the others. It wasn't rare to see Kanao taking the initative to spend time with the younger girls these days, but it never failed to warm Shinobu's heart. Kanao's blind obedience had also been mostly been wrung out of her, but Shinobu had yet to succeed in getting her to address anyone with familial terms.

When the girls had settled into their chosen seats, Shinobu moved to do the same. Settling into her chair, Shinobu asked, "Does anyone know what Aoi is doing? If she's cleaning up, I'd rather she do it after she's had her lunch. The food she made is going to go cold."

Naho's hand shot up. "She should be preparing a bento for Tsuchinoto-san! Sumi told all of us that she saw him go past the mansion earlier, so he's probably going to be back soon!"

"Is that true?" Shinobu asked. Sumi's head bobbed enthusiastically.

"He was carrying a large sack with him, and his crow kept circling his head and singing, 'mission complete'!"

Aoi chose that moment to enter the dining hall with a large bento balanced on her hands. Shinobu noted that the Tsuchinoto's meal was twice the size of theirs and took an admiring glance at his tower of fried kaarage. The pile of delicious smelling meat wobbled with each cautious step Aoi took, and Shinobu smiled in amusement, wondering if she ought to be jealous at the preferential treatment their guest was receiving.

"Oh, Nee-san!" Aoi halted mid-step. The miniature mountain of fried chicken shivered precariously. She smiled sheepishly at the awed looks her sisters were giving the bento she held. Perhaps she was silly to hope that none of them would notice that she'd overdone it. "Um, I'm sorry for the delay… And, I know everyone must be hungry, but do you think we could…?"

Shinobu instantly understood. "Tsuchinoto-san might be sad if there's no one to greet him upon his return," she said. "If everyone is fine with it, shall we await his arrival before we attend to our meal?"

Everyone save for an impassive Kanao chirped their agreement without hesitation. Shinobu laughed inwardly at their outburst of excitement. It hadn't been long since that Tsuchinoto had started staying here and the children had already grown irrevocably attached. From the way he acted around them, it was obvious that he had a way with children, but it wasn't just his friendly attitude that made him so endearing.

Unlike most Slayers, he didn't treat people that weren't her like servants. Her girls were mature for their age due to what they had experienced, but they were still children. His friendly attitude and endless patience towards them was a welcomed anomaly among the cold and patronizing personalites that revolved in and out of the mansion's beds. Though he acknowledged their youth, he treated them with the courtesy and respect others reserved for their superiors.

Shinobu could tell by the way Sumi, Naho and Kiyo sulked in the days following his departure that they already considered him their big brother. He easily took up the role her girls sorely lacked in their lives, and it was partly for this reason she'd coerced him into staying despite having completed his task.

Shinobu wondered if he had siblings, but it was a question she would likely never bring herself to ask despite her curiosity. For most of the members of the Corps, matters of the past were touchy at best, tragic at worst.

Kanae's smiling visage floated through her mind, and Shinobu's mood turned somber. Had he lost someone he loved dearly as well?

"Aoi," Shinobu looked up at the sound of Kanao's voice. She caught the gleam of a coin in Kanao's open palm before she stowed it away. "You forgot to take out the tea cups. Should I get them?"

"Ah jeez, I forgot. It's fine, Kanao, I'll go get them." Aoi left with that harried reply and swiftly returned with a stack of cups. Shinobu watched as Kanao pushed out of her seat and quickly moved forward to help her. She nodded at their display, her heart melting at the sight of their easy camaraderie.

"Huh, what's this?" Aoi held up a peculiar tea vessel that fitted perfectly in her grip. The glazed surface was blended with light shades of pink and purple, the colours eye-catching even from a distance. "I don't remember us owning such a beautiful tea cup. Look at how detailed the design is! The sakura petals look so realistic, as delicate as the real thing."

The girls exchanged blank looks. None of them could remember seeing it. At their silence, Shinobu finally managed to recall where this particular object had come from. "It was only given to us just recently," Shinobu said, drawing their attention. "Do you recall the man who visited the mansion several days before? I believe he was the one brought it as a gift."

Aoi's admiring expression immediately soured. "Oh… him." Her mouth curled in distate. "He definitely meant for it for you to have it, Shinobu nee-san. I don't remember him mentioning anything about us."

And it was true, Shinobu realized as she scanned through her memories. During his visit, he hadn't spoken a word to anyone except for her. When Aoi had brought in a pot of tea, their visitor had scarcely glanced at her before continuing on some inane topic.

Shinobu cleared her throat, letting out a small laugh. "That might be so. But everything I own will eventually be passed down and shared between all of you, including this cup."

Looking at the neutral and impassive faces of Aoi and the rest of the girls, Shinobu wished the man hadn't bothered to bring gifts in the first place. She knew her suitors bore no ill will. It wasn't a crime to appreciate beauty, nor was it to seek those who were beautiful. But why did her appearance rank higher on her suitors' lists than the people she treasured?

Her charges received words of praise and thanks, but never gifts. Words were easily given; items of appreciation were not. The girls never complained, but they probably found it hard to stomach when when they regularly witnessed her receiving floods of useless trinkets, jewellery and paintings.

"This tea cup is truly exquisite," Aoi said, sounding grudgingly impressed. "Such a gorgeously illustrated vessel couldn't have been cheap. I bet this costs more than what a Mizunoto can earn in a month."

"That might be so," Shinobu agreed. "Still, it is only just a tea cup. It might be valuable, but it doesn't hold much significance."

She knew this was how her suitors saw her. A delicate vessel to be worshiped, adored and used when it suited them. Looking at the tea cup, Shinobu felt nothing but annoyance.

A low thud sounded in the hallway from the direction of the main entrance. The energy levels in the room instantly spiked. Sheer excitement emanted off Aoi and the rest of the girls.

"The door!" Sumi squealed.

"There's someone at the door!" Naho cheered, pumping a fist in the air.

Kiyo was the first to jump out of her seat, "Tsuchinoto-san is here!"

Kanao stared after the stampeding girls and slowly turned her stunned gaze to Shinobu. The Insect Pillar stifled a laugh at her younger sister's disturbed expression and said, "There will also come a day when you'll show as strong a reaction towards someone."

When Kanao scrunched her nose and lowered her eyes to stare at her bento, Shinobu turned to look at the tea cup that had been left abandoned on the table.

"Maybe one day…" Shinobu nearly laughed at her own words. No, it wasn't possible. She had already embarked on the path to vengeance. Her scorching desire to avenge Kanae would definitely overpower all other feats of emotion. How could she give her heart to another, knowing what she'd planned to do…?

"Good afternoon, Shinobu-san. It's been awhile."

"My," Shinobu's head shot up in surprise. "My apologies for not receiving you at the door, my dear Tsuchinoto." Though he was dressed in the same fitted navy haori, the man that stood before her looked significantly more exhausted compared to when he'd left. "You like you haven't slept in ages. If you aren't feeling well, I could arrange for a check up for you, later."

His expression twisted in a mix of embarrassment and wryness. Despite how cold her initial impression of him had been, he turned out to be anything but. He could be surprisingly emotive when she caught him off guard, and his reactions to being caught flat footed was absolutely adorable.

"I feel fine, thank you for asking." He threw a glance over his shoulder. "And don't worry. The girls greeted me with plenty of excitement and fervour. I've never felt happier returning from a mission before."

Shinobu smiled, acknowledging his words with a nod. His frankness was worthy of admiration. Her girls would be thoroughly pleased to hear that their affection towards him was equally reciprocated. She peered around him, asking, "And where have they disappeared off to?"

"I brought gifts, so they've probably gone to put it in their rooms." He stared over her shoulder, trying and failing not to look overeager. "I hope I'm not late for lunch."

"Don't worry, Aoi made sure to include your share." Shinobu folded her arms, screwing her face into an exaggerated pout. "Why Tsuchinoto-san, did you not bring any gifts for me? I'm disappointed." She placed a finger on her chin. "Oh my… it couldn't be that you're holding any improper intentions towards my girls?"

"Of course not!" He caught her smirk and heaved a frustrated sigh. "Shinobu-san, I am starting to wonder if purposely angering me has become your favourite hobby."

Shinobu laughed. "A woman does not give out her secrets so easily."

"Yes, yes." He grumbled and jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. There was a large clay jar resting directly against the wall outside the dining hall door. "After hearing what you said, I'm almost tempted to keep the plum wine I bought for the kakushi."

"Now, now, don't be that way. Please accept my thanks in their stead for your thoughtful gift, Tsuchinoto-san."

"Since you thanked me so pleasantly, I can't withhold your present now, can I?" The man brought out a meticulously wrapped bundle that jingled when he placed it in her hands. "Here, the fruits of my labour. I was lucky enough to find someone who had what you needed for your accessories. They told me they tried to make the colours as accurate as possible, and I took their word for it."

Shinobu sucked in a surprised breath. "These are the paints I asked for?"

At his nod, Shinobu gently fisted the bundle. Her heart ached. "Thank you. I never expected you would truly search for it. This is…" Shinobu couldn't bring herself didn't finish. He reacted with a slight tilt of his head and a quick, empathetic glance that both discomfited and gratified her. She forced herself to smile. "I suppose I can forgive you for not bringing another gift for me."

The Tsuchinoto smirked. It was her first time seeing it, and it baffled her for a moment. "Another gift? Shinobu-san, your demands are getting tougher to fulfil." He produced a small bundle of papers. "Here, I hope this will convince you to spare me. I managed to buy the recipes for these acrylic paints. I assumed you'd have no trouble understanding the techniques, so I had the artisan be as in-depth as possible."

A thrill of warmth surged through her body. Shinobu's tense smile softened into something more genuine. "Thank you for being so thoughtful," she said.

"Who's thoughtful?" Aoi walked in. "Nee-san, Tsuchinoto-san bought me a new cooking pot!"

"I'm glad you like it." He ruffled Aoi's hair, earning loud but good natured grumbles. "Aren't I the best?"

Aoi batted his arm away, giggling when he pretended to be injured. "You're definitely way better than the other guy who bought that stupidly expensive tea cup!" She pointed out the tea vessel sitting innocently on the table.

Shinobu watched his face sour as he caught sight of it.

"What a coincidence." At Aoi's questioning stare, he explained, "It's nothing. I was just thinking about how I recently saw another tea vessel exactly like that somewhere…"

"Really? Then it must have been a common tea cup after all," Aoi replied.

"Aoi, don't be impolite. It was still a gift for us, after all," Shinobu said. "However, I agree that Tsuchinoto-san's gift is far more useful than a simple tea cup."

The other girls raced into the room just as Aoi began to chatter about what she would be cooking with the new pot he'd gifted her. Shinobu watched as he entertained their questions, his longing glances at the food growing more frequent.

"Girls, save your questions for after the meal," Shinobu finally called, taking a pity on him. "Everyone, take your seats. Aoi put a lot of effort into cooking today's meal, and it's already gone cold. Let's not wait any longer and dig in."

"Thanks for your timely intervention," he whispered as the girls scrambled for their seats. "I was so hungry, I almost Kiyo had turned into a piece of kaarage. I think I might have started drooling if you didn't interrupt."

Shinobu shook her head. "You spoil them far too much. Don't be afraid to speak your mind. They won't fault you for it."

The Tsuchinoto chuckled. "I understand what you're saying. But how can I, when they look like they're having so much fun?"

Shinobu fell a step behind him as he moved forward to take a seat beside Sumi. The girl immediately drew him into conversation, pointing to the fried chicken in front of her. With the bundle of papers pressed against her chest, Shinobu sat herself in her own chair. She watched them interact animatedly and wondered.

Chapter Text

There's been a change in Shinobu's attitude towards you these days.

That thought strikes you in mid conversation. Your words falter. The conversation trips to an awkward standstill as your tongue goes limp. You can't recall what you were saying. Your head feels as heavy as a lump of lead.

You sit there, dumbfounded.

But even in silence, peace does not come. Instead, that thought invades deeper into your mind and brings up another question, potentially more dangerous than the last.

Why is Shinobu treating you differently?

Shinobu's profile comes into focus. She is sitting just opposite of you, looking understandably confused by your sudden silence. You don't blame her. You're wondering why you're acting strangely yourself.

"Is there something wrong?" Shinobu asks. One of her finely trimmed eyebrows rises. It reminds you of the absurdity of the situation.

You don't trust yourself to speak, but staying silent will make the situation worse. You open your mouth and say, "The tea."

After two words, your mind draws a blank. Is that it?

No, you can't give up now. You wrack your brains and try again. "I choked on the tea." You speak your answer firmly and project confidence you most definitely do not have.

"We've already finished the pot." Shinobu stabs holes in your story without blinking.

"Did I say tea?" You curse yourself internally. "I meant fly. I choked on a fly."

Shinobu looks at you like you've grown two noses and three heads. You wish you had. At least you'd be able to explain why you suddenly turned into a doddering child incapable of speech. Still, better to spout nonsense then sit there in a mimicry of a wooden post.

"I see. I suppose I'd better check on the insect repelling incense." Shinobu stands up. Her thin lipped smile sends a wave of anxiety surging through you, for you do not know what it promises. "The fly that has made its way into my lab might take advantage of my lackadaisical attitude to flourish."

She's onto you. "I… thanks."

Once Shinobu turns her back to you, your hands clamp onto the sides of your head as if you could physically drag out the strange thoughts it harbours. It doesn't work, because obviously, whatever manner of insanity that's seized you won't leave you alone until you reach the crux of the problem.

What the hell is the problem, anyway?

You think back to your previous thought. Right. You need to find out why Shinobu's attitude towards you has changed.

You sift through your memories of this past week. She's been greeting you in the halls. Hm… that's a normal occurrence. Everyone in the Butterfly Estate offers greetings when they see you. They have been nothing but polite.

Ah… but after greeting you, Shinobu usually strikes up a conversation. She'll ask you about what you had planned for the day, and you'd follow up by asking her the same. It's been common scenario these days, and you've enjoyed these casual conversations more than you should.

It's nice to simply talk to someone you admire – some days, you still can't believe you're working alongside Shinobu – but you have never stopped to ask yourself why she's going out of her way to entertain you.

When did this start? Before you left on your last mission? No, you can't recall any instances where Shinobu has been overtly friendly toward you. After your mutual agreement to work alongside each other as equals, the entirety of your interactions can be summed up as friendly, but distant.

This means the change must have happened after you returned from your mission to the mountains. And at that thought, a light goes off in your head.

Of course!

The favour you completed for her must have warmed her up to you. It's not farfetched to think Shinobu is grateful to you for accomplishing that task. Given how important those items are, only someone with a heart of ice would continue to treat you as a stranger.

"Ah…" You laugh quietly under your breath. "I made a fuss over nothing."

Shinobu returns from her errand and slips into her seat. Her pale purple eyes seem to pierce through you. You mentally apologize for making her carry out that menial task. It could have been avoided if you weren't so muddleheaded.

"The incense has been relighted. I should hope there will be no further interruptions by rogue flies."

Her honeyed tone belies the warning in her eyes. You can feel sweat gather on the back of your neck. You're instantly reminded of the enormous rift separating the two of you.

Shinobu is a pillar of the Demon Slayer Corps. Meanwhile you are simply a mid-ranked slayer with no outstanding contributions, save for your assistance with Oyakata-sama's businesses. Those aren't even related to Demon Slaying.

Though you're proud you've been of help, you are nowhere near Shinobu's level of excellence.

Your heart settles. It seems you have been hoping for something more than what you're capable of. You vow to carry yourself more carefully. Ruining the camaraderie between Shinobu and yourself might dampen your relationship with the kids, and you don't want to admit it, but you've grown attached to them.

"Thank you, Shinobu-san. I appreciate your help," you say.

Shinobu's expression softens. "It is no trouble at all, Ryuu-san."

Your mouth twitches. Apparently she feels favourable enough towards you to even use your given name. Everybody in the mansion has been calling you 'Tsuchinoto-san' and you're quite content with the title. You are grounded when they refer to you as such, there is no mistaking your position as a guest here.

Again, you wonder how you didn't notice such a large change. An does this also mean everyone else will no longer refer to you by your rank?

"You're acting strange today," Shinobu says without preamble. "Did I say anything wrong?"

"No, that's not it. I think the exhaustion from yesterday's all-nighter is finally setting in. I'm not as young as I used to be."

You aren't lying. You had stayed up the entire night reading through medical texts. After witnessing Shinobu in her element the last time you were allowed to observe her experiments, you can't let go of the idea to introduce several of her medical methods to doctors in the villages around the country.

If you can get them to replace their woefully inefficient techniques and tools, more lives can be saved. The number of people seeking help will multiply. Demand for medicines will increase. You can't make medicine, but you know where to find them. Ferrying goods might be boring compared to hawking them in an open market and scoring a hefty deal, but it is a safe income stream that comes with many benefits.

Shinobu's intense gaze finally lifts. She sits back, appeased by your explanation. "Is that so? Do take care of yourself outside of missions, and please inform me if you ever feel unwell. It would be odd if you fell ill in the home of a brilliant doctor."

You laugh. "You'd be the first person I'll inform. Rest assured that I'm still healthy as a horse. Even if I do fall sick, medicine will be all I need."

Shinobu pretends to sigh. "To think I have been reduced to a mere medicine dispenser. It is not the role I would have wished for, but I shall wholeheartedly accept this task."

She meets your eyes. It takes less than a second of eye contact before both of you burst out laughter.

"Shinobu-san," You manage through gasping breaths. "As I thought, you're seriously amazing."

Shinobu's smile is wider than you've ever seen. "More amazing than Tomioka-san?"

You can't help but grin. Their pseudo friendship-rivalry is legendary in the corps. You admire them both, but after spending time with the insect pillar, you have undoubtedly become painfully biased toward her.

You fold my arms and declare, "Of course!"

"My," Shinobu smiles, pleased. "You know how to flatter me so."

"Ryuu-san," Shinobu calls as you get ready to leave her laboratory.

"Yes?" You turn to face her. "Do you need me to get something from the market as well?"

A gobsmacked expression flits across her face. "You aren't returning to your room to rest?"

For some reason, your chest grows warm at her simple enquiry about your well-being. You brush it off and answer, "I will once I return. I told Aoi to leave tomorrow's grocery run to me."

"It's already past noon," Shinobu says. "The best ingredients will have long been sold. Don't forget it takes at least an hour to reach the nearest town by foot. Considering your current state, it would be better to depart tomorrow morning."

Shinobu's statements are accurate, but you'd already planned this trip several days in advance. You have a number of errands to run there, and not showing up for meetings you'd personally scheduled would disrespectful to the people who honoured them.

You could send a message using your Kasugai crow, but you don't want to conflate work and personal matters. And from your experience, your crow loathes to be disturbed if the matter is irrelevant to the Corps.

You appeal to her not to worry, saying, "I'm not so weak that I'd collapse from a strenuous journey, Shinobu-san. I'm scheduled to meet a number of merchants there today, backing out on such short notice would be impolite." You add on, "If I don't feel well, I can easily stay the night at the inn before journeying back tomorrow."

Shinobu doesn't look convinced. You don't want to worry her, but you've already expressed your opinion. You aren't in such a bad state that you'd keel over from what basically amounts to a long walk. As for the groceries, you'd offered to buy dry ingredients such as grain, salt or spices. Businesses would definitely have them even at a later hour.

"I suppose you're right," Shinobu relents. Then suddenly, she asks, "Ryuu-san, would you be adverse if I came along?"

"What?" You think you hear wrongly, but Shinobu's eyes remain fixated on you. "Oh, no, of course not."

You think Shinobu's answering smile holds a hint of anticipation. Before you can dissuade yourself, you decide to be honest. "I would appreciate the company," you tell her. "That is, if you don't mind spending an hour discussing your last experiment. There were some things I didn't understand and would like to clarify."

"Nothing more would delight me."

You give a short bow. "I'll let you get ready. See you at the entrance, Shinobu-san."

Chapter Text

It's late afternoon when both of you arrive at Ginzan Onsen town. The sun's brilliant yellow has gentled into warm orange, and the harsh humidity has given way to pleasant coolness.

The town is bustling with activity, but there is a subdued air about the people here due to the inevitable turning of season. From the occasional gust of frigid wind, you can tell Autumn is at your doorstep. Though cooler weather is largely welcomed after the scorching heat of Summer, you understand some are still reluctant to part with perpetually sunny days and bountiful harvests.

You are not one of them. The clamminess of hot summer nights will not be missed.

The sweat accumulated during your journey is evaporating with each gust of wind. You take a deep breath. The corner of your lips curve up. You've always loved cool weather.

You turn to Shinobu. "Will you be accompanying me? Or would you prefer to look around by yourself?" Shinobu's face is impassive as she pauses to think.

The journey here had given you plenty of time to tell Shinobu what you'd be doing. You've arranged a meeting two merchants who have close relations to medicinal farms in the far flung regions of the country. They are open to collaboration, and you hope they will be receptive to the idea of expanding their scope of businesses into rural areas. Villages might not be as wealthy as towns and cities, but the shortage of skilful doctors does not mean medicinal herbs and the like are not in demand.

"It's alright if you don't want to," you add when the silence stretches longer than is comfortable. "It'll be at least an hour or more of dry, boring conversations. And I believe you had something you needed to do here?"

You can't tell if you're eager or petrified to have Shinobu accompany you. On one hand, you're worried her opinion of you might turn negative if she sees you haggling like a nagging housewife at the market. On the other, you'd benefit from her expertise since she has ample experience with medicines and their ingredients.

"I wouldn't want to distract you, Ryuu-san." Shinobu finally says. "I heard the town has recently added some new shops. I'll be visiting those while you attend to your matters."

You're equal parts relieved and embarrassed your invitation was shot down. "I understand."

"However," Shinobu continues. "I would like if you could accompany me later for tea. We should refuel ourselves for the trip back since we'll be late to dinner." She looks around. "This isn't your first time here, correct?"

You nod. "I occasionally come here for business."

"Have you eaten at the sweets shop by the Ginzan ryokan?"

You wrack your brains to recall that particular shop. "Ah, the one famous for its red bean dango? Not yet. The lines are always long and I'm usually pressed for time whenever I visit. I've heard nothing but great things about it."

Shinobu smiles. "I'm familiar with the owner. If you're open to it, shall we meet there when you're done?"

You're aware your nod is a little too vigorous, but you can't help yourself. You've wanted to eat their sweets for ages. And since Shinobu is offering, you're even less reluctant to jump at the chance. "I'm looking forward to it."

With a final exchange of words, both of you part ways.

The sun has started to sink by the time your business is finished. You've just left the teahouse, struggling not to let a scowl split your face. "Bastards," you mutter scathingly.

The only consolation is that the merchants you'd just met are feeling just as disgruntled. That's good. You'd be furious if you were the sole person upset with how the matter went down.

You trudge through the marketplace, winding through the sparse crowd. Your mood must show on your face because none of the street vendors attempt to drag you aside to expound on their wares. You feel somewhat grateful for their mindfulness. Then again, not everyone is like you, willing to brave the wrath of a customer in a foul mood when there's yen to be made.

Try as you might, you can't rid yourself of the cloud over your head. You arrive at the sweets shop just beside the Ginzan ryokan, feeling your head ache when you see the long line of customers winding round the back. Their chatter drills unpleasantly into your ears.

"Ryuu-san?"

Your eyes, which you had shut in frustration, snap open. You look to the source of the melodic voice and see Shinobu standing by the entrance to the sweet shop. Your mood lifts at the sight of her, and you quickly stride over.

"I'm sorry I kept you waiting," you tell her.

"That's alright. Dealing with poisons has taught me the art of patience."

Your lips hook up in a slight smile. "If only I had as calm a temperament."

"It's not impossible as long as you keep working at it. It might surprise you, but I didn't always have a good temper." Shinobu gives a short bow to the waitress and leads you to a table at the corner of the shop. The atmosphere inside is lively, and surprisingly, the air is not thick with the saccharine scent of sugar like you expected.

Your table, though less exposed, is right by the kitchen. You urge Shinobu to take the seat against the wooden wall while you occupy the backless stool. You don't want to repay her kindness by letting her sit defenceless in an area with high foot traffic. You would suffer far less any food was upturned on your clothes in a stroke of bad luck.

"That's normal," you say. "Everyone is prone to fits of emotion, especially in their youth."

"You say it as though you are not still youthful. Though I understand where you're coming from." Shinobu rests her chin on her palm and sighs. "I dearly miss the time when I lived unbridled and free of worry."

"For every new thing gained, something must be traded return." A small girl comes to your mind's eye. Your heart clenches. Shinobu seems to have lost herself in memories as well. Her face is clouded with anger and longing, emotions likely reflected on yours.

You swiftly change the subject. "Take what we're about to do as an example. We're trading our yen for sustenance." You scratch your chin as you look at the shop's menu. Dish names are painted on pieces of wood hanging on the walls of the store. "Do you have any recommendations, Shinobu-san? I'm a little upset, so I'm the mood for something dreadfully sweet."

Shinobu gives you her recommendations, and you both place your orders. You fiddle with the chopsticks as your stomach gives a low rumble. The argument earlier drained you of energy. You're craving a treat which will hopefully, offset your pent up stress and fill your empty belly.

You notice Shinobu looking at you with a slight pinch to her brows. When you look at her with a questioning gaze, she asks, "I suppose your errand did not go well."

"It went as well as the Demon Corps effort to catch any of the twelve moons."

Her eyes narrow. "Ryuu-san… that's not very polite."

You let chuckle mirthlessly. "I don't mean it as a slight. I just mean happened earlier was truly upsetting."

Now that she's brought it up, the dam inside you breaks. Your words flood out, uninhibited, brimming with anger. "I'd proposed for us to work together. They would supply me with what I needed, and I would use my network to distribute the goods. They were extremely receptive to my idea the last I met them, which is why I arranged to meet them again today. To my utmost surprise," you say with every ounce of disgust you can muster. "Both merchants have already agreed to participate in the venture with someone else."

"Did they say who?"

You grind your teeth as you recall their words. "No, but apparently, the other party is 'far more distinguished and reliable than a backwater merchant with minor successes'. Results should speak for themselves.I detest people who inflate reputation with competence!"

So aggrieved, you don't realize your food has arrived until Shinobu offers you a stick of dango. When you don't take it, still not understanding what's going on, she deposits it on your plate.

"Now, now, there's nothing to be had by stewing in anger. Another's opinion cannot be controlled." Shinobu takes a dainty bite out of her own dango.

You pick up your stick and devour it in three bites. The red bean dango is bursting with sweetness. It has just the right texture that it seems to melt the moment it touches your tongue. You smack your lips in delight. "Wow, this is really good."

"This is the shop's speciality, after all."

You start on the plate of mochi. The bitter tang of green tea is perfectly matched by the red bean in the middle. "This is also really good. I could eat this forever." You blaze through the snacks on the table, only pausing when you realize your table manners are absolutely horrendous. "Ah… my apologies."

Shinobu smiles. "Not at all. Do you feel better?"

You take this time to examine how you're feeling. Surprisingly, the weight on your chest no longer feels as suffocating. The rant and good food has helped tremendously. "Yes, I do."

She nods. "Those merchants might have chosen to work with someone else, but will you let that stop you?"

"Not even a flood of demons will."

"Then rest easy, Ryuu-san. Success is not final, failure is not fatal. Nothing worthwhile is easily achieved."

You look at her. More closely than you've ever dared. The tips of her purple fringe sway in the slight breeze that's swept through the shop. Her chest heaves as she breathes in cloying steam from the bowl of azuki dessert in front of her.

Shinobu scoops a spoonful of wet dessert into her mouth. Her eyes squint in enjoyment, and her pink, supple lips curve into a delighted smile. "This is my favourite. Would you care for some?"

You clear your throat and force yourself to look away. "I don't mind just a little." You stick your hand out, preparing to borrow her spoon.

Shinobu refuses your outstretched hand. She holds up the utensil, her innocent smile belying the mischievous twinkle in her eyes. Your throat grows thick as you stare at the offered spoon.

"Here," she says, extending the spoon until it's inches from your face. "Be careful, it's hot."

…

You can feel the heat in your cheeks as you pry the spoon from her fingers. She doesn't fight it this time. The dessert goes down your throat with much difficulty, and you return the spoon back to her.

Shinobu shakes her head. "Should I have said 'ahh'?"

You answer dryly, "Shinobu-san, your admirers might just murder me in my sleep."

When you leave the shop, the sky is nearly dark. People have started lighting the stone lanterns that line the streets. Night vendors ring bells from their pushcarts and the smell of charcoal, spices and other savoury toppings combine into a unique scent that carries through the entire town.

Shinobu bids the shop staff goodbye and comes up beside you, a wrapped box nestled in her hands.

"Would you like me to carry that?" you ask. "You have a far better chance of defending both of us if we run into trouble." Shinobu regards you with a slight tilt of her head. She hands it over. You cradle it in your arms like it were a delicate infant. "I hope the girls will like these."

"They certainly will." Shinobu laughs. "Thank you for your thoughtfulness."

"Not at all. Good food deserves to be shared. It's the least I can do since I'm mooching off the Butterfly Estate."

"My, you don't mince words, do you?"

"Facts are facts, Shinobu-san." You grin at her. "Also, I might have picked up the bill, but you're the one who selected the sweets. You know their tastes best. I wouldn't have known what to get them."

Both of you start walking. The marketplace is less crowded but the number of people milling is sizeable enough to create a small racket. Hearty laughter is shared over food and drink. Families are out and about, their children mingling with each other by the game stalls. You pass a pair of siblings arguing with a stall owner and smile.

"You look nostalgic," Shinobu says.

"As do you." You laugh when she lets out a huff at being countered. "I used to stroll in markets like these all the time. I loved visiting different stalls and reviewing the quality of their food."

"That's a strange habit. I suppose you took after someone in your family?"

"Indeed. My father was an grain merchant and he used to joke he could sniff out a rotten kernel before it even made it to his bowl. He hated being short-changed, so food stall owners were deathly afraid of him. He would tell them how bad their food tasted regardless of their feelings."

A group of small girls rush past you, giggling up a storm. There are boys are hot on their heels, yelling playfully as they give chase You step closer to Shinobu to avoid their flailing arms and elbows. Your shoulder brushes against hers before you return to your position.

You feel a tug on your shirt. "Pardon me, Ryuu-san."

Shinobu has gravitated towards a stall. You're gently pulled along with her and stop in front of an open table full of accessories. Polished metal shines under the light from the lanterns. The owner of the stall greets both of you with a polite bow.

Shinobu picks up a hairclip. It's a long piece of metal, painted pink, and studded with shiny gemstones. You think it's a little gaudy, but you understand the appeal.

Shinobu's eyes aren't drawn to the stones but to the pink metal. She balances it in one palm, her lips pursed at she judges it by an unknown checklist.

You don't want to seem like you're rush her, so you move to the other end of the table. Surprisingly, the stall sells a number of handmade charms as well. There's an array of cloth sachets with words like 'Luck' and 'Happiness' in bold lettering on their front.

"Are you interested in getting one?" You jump at Shinobu's voice. She is standing close enough you can see the delicate wingtip of the butterfly clip she wears.

"I'm not sure." Your hands hover over the one that says 'Wealth'. "Mister, how much for one of these?"

"Two hundred yen, sir."

You look at Shinobu. Her hands are devoid of the hairpin. She catches your gaze and shakes her head. Unfortunately, it looks like it didn't meet her criteria.

The owner of the stall is gazing at you. The eagerness in his eyes is plain. You catch a glimpse of his change bowl and feel a pang of sympathy. It's woefully empty. You've never sold accessories but you know it's hard for a roadside business to flourish. People prefer getting such things from established jewellery shops.

"I'll take one." You fish out two hundred yen coins from your pocket, only for Shinobu to pass him the money before you do. "Shinobu-san, I can't possibly–"

Shinobu raises a hand. "Please accept it. It is a small token of my gratitude for everything you've done so far."

Well, you can't refuse it now, can you? "I won't stand on ceremony then. Thank you very much."

Before you can take wealth charm, someone clears their throat. A haughty voice erupts from behind you, and immediately, your hackles rise at the familiar tone and pitched note of superiority.

"My word, what a coincidence. I did not think I would be lucky to find one of the Demon Corp's pillars here. The fates have truly aligned for us to meet here, Shinobu-san."

You don't want to turn around. Maybe if you ignore him long enough, he'd go away.

"Good evening," Shinobu greets.

"It is a good evening indeed. Come, would you be so kind as to indulge me with a short conversation over tea?"

"Unfortunately, we won't be staying for much longer."

The man's voice sounds tight as he responds. "I see. And might I know the name of the gentleman accompanying you?"

The sneer in his voice tells you he's noticed your presence long before he declared his. It's obvious, given how closely you're standing to Shinobu. With his invitation shot down, he's now focused his impotent anger onto you.

You turn around. The young master of the Wisteria family makes an affronted noise. "You again!"

"Yeah." You ignore his blustering and square your shoulders. "Good evening, fellow Slayer. We meet again."

Chapter Text

Shinobu gives you a look of puzzlement. "Oh? You've met him, Ryuu-san?"

"Yes, during my previous mission."

Shinobu's eyes widen, coming to a realization of a sort. "My," she says. "That is truly a coincidence. Perhaps both of you are connected by fate as well."

"I hope you're joking, Shinobu-san."

The man's face rapidly purples as you and Shinobu continue to talk, rendering him into a piece of grass swaying in the background. You try to remain pokerfaced, but it's hard to contain your petty satisfaction.

The servant beside him is sweating bullets. He eyes his master like he were a wild creature on the verge rampaging. Taking pity on him, you direct the conversation back to the young master. "Pardon me, Kinoe-san, but how should I refer to you?"

"You two have met but don't know each other's names?" Shinobu covers her mouth in surprise. "Perhaps an introduction is in order."

The man's fury seems to dissipate at her words. "Well said, Shinobu-san." He gives you a disgruntled look, his nose in the air. "Given my rank, it's appropriate for me to go first. Any objections, Tsuchinoto-san?"

You shake your head, wearing a patient smile. Seeing that you don't offer much else, he barely refrains from rolling his eyes. His attitude proves your suspicions. He was definitely baiting you into an argument. Unfortunately for him, it is within your expectations he would pull rank.

You actually find his method more than a little hilarious. Does he not realize the absurdity of bringing up status in the presence of the Insect Pillar?

The man gives a deep bow, his ponytail bobbing. "I am Ichiro Fuji, the tenth generation master to the Wisteria Family."

You find yourself impressed by his poise and noble bearing, even though it's for Shinobu's benefit. You bow back equally deeply. "Kuroshio Ryuu, Tsuchinoto of the Demon Slayer Corps."

"Kuroshio…" A smile suddenly appears on young master Fuji's face. "It seems I have been lacking in manners. I hope you can find it in yourself to accept my late apology."

You wait for him to continue. What could he be apologizing for? The only interaction he's had with you was when you'd first met in the artisan's shop, and from the delighted grin he's wearing, you're certain his sudden apology has nothing to do with it.

Seeing your confusion, he gladly continues, "If I'd known you were acquainted with Shinobu-san, I wouldn't have agreed to the joint venture proposed by the two merchants. Truly impolite of me." The smile he directs at you is genuine in its pity.

Your brows knit into a frown. "That…" He's mocking you.

You take in a breath to rein in your loosening temper. While both of you were conversing, people had gathered to watch. They must recognize him, and it reminds you of where you are. You can't make a scene. Not on his home territory.

"It's no trouble at all," you force yourself to say. "I accept your apology."

"I wouldn't mind helping you establish contacts with other available merchants. The idea you came up with is truly great. This town is big enough for a rival, and I've been saying for years that holding a monopoly over the trade here is not ideal for progress. I hope I'm not presumptuous in asking you to continue doing business here, Kuroshio-san."

The people gathered here exchange smiles full of emotion. Looking at them, you swallow the petty words you'd planned to unleash. Fuji was certainly a man worthy of the Wisteria family's mantle. He'd already grasped the hearts of the townsfolk, picking a fight here would end badly no matter which party was in the right.

"There's need for you to waste your energy, Fuji-sama." You plaster a polite smile on your face. "My idea was simply that, an idea. If executed successfully, it would be due to your merit. Don't worry, I will absolutely continue to do business in a prosperous town such as this one."

Fuji spares you a nod and turns to Shinobu. Without the ugly contortions of anger marring his face, he looks completely different. His handsome, elegant features are further enhanced by a gentle smile. In other words, a face truly befitting of a wealthy young master.

"Forgive me for my earlier brashness," he tells her. "I should have been more understanding of your circumstance. Though our meeting is cut short today, my invitation still stands. Should you want to meet, simply send a letter and I will send a carriage to pick you. Ryuu-san, feel free to take advantage of my offer as well."

"Understood," you say, nodding.

How magnanimous of him, your mind drawls sarcastically. If only he'd been so polite when you'd first met.

You watch Fuji drag Shinobu into further conversation and awkwardly turn your gaze away. You can't help but detest his reversal in attitude. He'd obviously reached the understanding that being openly hostile will not endear Shinobu to him, and pivoted to match her tastes.

You have a feeling this is not the last you'd see of him. You'd seen the gaze he directed at you earlier, and you think back on his words. You're not stupid. You can read between the lines, and his true message is not lost on you.

He sees you as a rival for Shinobu's affections. It's absurd.

Your head swells at the daydream of courting the insect pillar, but it deflates when the reality of it quickly sets in.

No matter how he's treated you, he's still leagues above you. His surname, Fuji, is a reminder of how the Wisteria family is a benefactor to the Demon Slayer Corps. You might have more wealth than an average person but Fuji's likely eclipses yours.

You don't think Shinobu would choose a person simply by wealth and status, but it's undeniable Ichiro Fuji is a far better prospect than you'd first realized. Arrogance could be tempered, snobbishness could be hidden, and once those negative traits disappeared, what could you claim to hold over him?

You mull over this revelation in silence, doubt taking seed in your mind.

Chapter Text

"He's here again," Aoi says.

You look up from your lunch. Sitting across the table from you, Shinobu sighs. Gesturing with her hand, she says, "I assume he's brought gifts. Did you accept them?"

"I don't want to." Aoi purses her lips and throws a dark gaze over her shoulder. "Nee-san, can't we send him to Oyakata-sama instead of constantly receiving him here?" She lowers her voice, "His face is really annoying."

"Aoi," Shinobu admonishes.

"I know, I know." Aoi's pleading gaze lands on you. "Ryuuu! Let's greet him together. He's less annoying when you're around." Looking at the exasperation on her face, you can't help but laugh inwardly. You try not to acknowledge how grateful you feel that Ichiro Fuji hasn't left a good impression on her, and direct your focus to the current situation.

You'll help her, of course. No one should have to deal with Fuji by themselves, least of all the girls. But, you'll never pass up a chance to tease them.

You shove a spoonful of rice into your mouth, pretending to think her proposal over. Aoi's impatience eventually gets the best of her.

"Ryuu!" She stomps her feet, watching you chomp on a piece of fried katsudon. Aoi really knows how to cook, you think. Even a basic fried pork cutlet tastes like it was touched by culinary gods. "Come with me, please? I'm making red bean mochi tonight and I promise to give you extra."

"Your charge is trying to bribe me, Shinobu-san."

"Don't tease her so much or you might end up with none at all."

"That would be truly awful." You cover up a hearty laugh by wiping your mouth with your handkerchief. You push aside your bowl and get up from your seat. "I'll come back to clear this. Now, if you'll excuse me, it's time I made use of this detestable face to help Aoi chase him away."

Shinobu pins you with a stern glare. "Ryuu-san, I know you don't have a good impression of Fuji-sama, but don't go too far."

"He won't be able to find fault with me regarding my manners," You shake your head. You make duly sure you are nothing but polite with him. "But Shinobu-san, you can't avoid him forever. You've known him longer than I have, you should know he will be relentless until you give him a firm answer."

Shinobu smiles wryly. "You give him too much credit. Saying what I have in mind will simply make his attitude more unbearable. So, I won't bother."

The lines of fatigue on her face are more visible than usual. It's not at all related to Ichiro Fuji, more because of the uptick in patients after a sudden surge of demon appearances, but his aggressive advances are not doing her favours.

"I'm sorry." Your apology slips out before you can stop it.

It's been a month since that fateful night at Ginzan Onsen town, and the fire you stoked in Fuji has roared to new heights. He takes every excuse and chance to drop by the Butterfly Estate several times a week, no longer content to use his servants to deliver gifts.

Shinobu has shown nothing but apathy towards him. Her stance towards his advances have been made clear, but these past weeks have left you with complicated emotions.

You want to help relieve her burden, but you've only managed to come up one idea which can potentially work.

You'd approach Ichiro Fuji to convince him his worries are unfounded, that you're uninterested in courting the woman he's head over heels for. By clearing up your attitude towards Shinobu, Fuji may ease up on his relentless pursuit and fall back to his previous hands-off tactics of gift giving and arranging 'fated' meetings.

You don't think it's a good plan, but it's the only one which would not harm the relationship between the Wisteria family and Demon Slayer Corps. You've been wanting to tell Shinobu the idea for weeks now, but there's one small detail that's holding you back.

"You have nothing to apologize for," Shinobu says. "There are times when retreat is the only way to advance. Waiting for this crisis to blow over is also a form of patience."

"Wisely spoken." Your idea is on the tip of your tongue. All you have to do is say it. But your throat suddenly constricts, and your surroundings fall away as Shinobu returns your gaze with one of her own. "I, well..."

Shinobu tilts her head. "Yes, Ryuu-san?"

You've never said it aloud, but you know the reason for your reluctance.

The tales your comrades told of her triumphs, of her turning weakness into strength, her indomitable will and resourcefulness. Those laid a foundation for your admiration toward her. And when you were lucky enough to work with her, oh, how swiftly that admiration evolved into attraction.

It's embarrassing to admit, but Fuji's reappearance made you realize how much you're attracted to her.

You didn't pay heed to the budding feelings before, because after all, it would be arrogant to think you knew her from the short month you spent together. Even the foundation of your knowledge of her was laid through exaggerated stories spun from drunken, hot blooded men.

But maybe those were simply excuses you came up for yourself.

A little more time has passed and things feel... different, now. You've seen sides of her you never thought existed. Or perhaps, it would be more accurate to say she let you see them.

If you tell Ichiro Fuji you have no interest in Shinobu, it will be the biggest lie you ever told. You're not sure if you have a chance with her, but, if you inform Shinobu about that idea you've come up, then you will truly have none.

You shake your head. "It's nothing, I just wanted to say I'll make a list of the gifts he's brought." You give her a thumbs up. "Wish me luck."

Shinobu's tinkling laugh follows you and Aoi out the dining hall. Both of you walk side by side, Aoi starting a new round of complaints towards young master Fuji. Sumi, Naho and Kiyo don't like him very much either, she explains, and they won't allow him to meet their big sister until he personally introduces himself to them.

It's a tall order to Fuji, considering he doesn't know they exist. How he's never noticed their presence when he's hellbent on invading Shinobu's life, you will not understand. Kanao, on the other hand, has not relayed her opinion on the matter. She trains her days away, fitting for a Tsuguko.

"Aoi, prepare to put on a big smile for him," you say.

"But why?" Aoi huffs. "I don't want him to think I'm happy to see him."

"He'll think that regardless." Both of you reach the entryway and slip your feet into wooden clogs. "So if you smile at him, reinforcing his assumptions that you, and by extension Shinobu, are happy to see him... what do you think he'll do?"

Aoi's brows knit into a frown. "Hm," she presses her index finger against her temples. "Can I have a hint?" You smile wickedly. Seeing your devious expression, Aoi gasps. "Ah! He'd bring even more gifts!"

"Since he's making Shinobu-san upset, you might as well make him pay for it," you say. "It isn't as if he's not able to afford it."

Fuji is completely unaware the gifts he sends are either, gifted to the other Pillars, pawned off to increase the Butterfly Estate's treasury, or given to you and the girls. You were granted ownership of a collection of strategy books from the previous time he visited, and it's a wonderful addition to your personal library.

"Ryuu-sensei," Aoi says solemnly. "Thank you for your wise teachings."

You pull the door open and give a short bow. "And thank you, dear student, for being such a quick learner."

When you step out into the open air, you're struck by a beam of blinding sunlight. You wince as black spots do a rambunctious dance in the corners of your vision. You hear Aoi closing the door as you take a minute to let your eyes adjust to the brightness of midday.

"So annoying," Aoi mutters. It looks like she's forgotten what you told her. Her dislike of him truly seems to run more deeply than you'd expected.

You blink the last of the dots away and your vision regains clarity. But seeing the man before you, you almost wish you had remained blind.

Ichiro Fuji is posed haughtily in the middle of the small path leading up to the doorstep of Butterfly Estate. Meanwhile, the entourage of carriages behind him has completely blocked the main road which leads off to Demon Corps headquarters.

"Does he always bring so many gifts? He must be bankrupting his family," you say, shocked.

Aoi shakes her head. "It's is my first time seeing this many."

It's an impressive sight. You imagine pulling open a carriage door and having mountains of gold spill out. In your minds eye, you see Shinobu smile brilliantly at the offered treasure.

Something in your chest clenches. You scold yourself for such an absurd thought. What does it matter if Shinobu-san accepts everything Fuji brings? Having an excess of money or goods is never a bad thing.

But rational as you try to be, inferiority begins to eat away at you. As you struggle to reign it, Aoi tugs on your sleeve.

"All he ever brings is a bunch of useless stuff," she says huffily. "Don't worry, nee-san won't return like him even if he goes bankrupt trying to impress her."

You blink. "Um, yes, of course. Shinobu-san is better than that." If this was any other situation, you would take the time to wonder if Aoi knows something you don't. "Come, let's go greet him before he throws a fit."

Both of you approach young master Fuji, you with a polite smile and Aoi with an expression so dead she might as well be preparing funeral rites. To Fuji's credit, he doesn't look put out by Aoi's attitude.

He greets her with a relaxed smile, "Good afternoon, Aoi-chan. Kuroshio."

"Aoi-san," she replies without skipping a beat. You see Fuji's eye twitch. His pride as a Kinoe and head of a wealthy family must feel trampled by Aoi speaking her mind.

From his reaction, you can guess this is the first time she's dared to rebut so brazenly. Aoi is certainly making good use of you as a good luck charm. You let her lead, wanting to see where this goes.

"My apologies... Aoi-san," Fuji says, his voice strained. "Forgive me, I'm am just slightly upset that both of you kept me waiting."

"Welcome to the Butterfly Estate, Fuji-sama," Aoi bows. "We apologize for the inconvenience."

Fuji's expression eases. He sweeps his hand behind him in what you suppose he intends as a grand gesture. "Aoi-san, please inform Shinobu-san of my presence. I have something important to discuss with her." He shoots you a glance laced with smugness. It's your turn for your eye to twitch.

"I'm sorry, Fuji-sama, but she won't be able to see you." Aoi replies, "She's busy taking care of the new patients that arrived this morning. It's a delicate situation. She says any distractions will have to wait."

You think about the full beds and the exhausted lines of Shinobu's face. Lunch is the only time you've been able to see her this past week. You offered to help her on a number of occasions, but you were gently rebuffed.

You sigh internally. You might be skilled at business and mental sums, but your medical field skills are truly lacking. Easy tasks like disinfection and sewing of minor wounds are doable, but anything more severe is out of your hands. Taking lives is easier than saving them.

"Distractions?" Fuji's face is thunderous. He takes a step forward. "It is unbecoming of a disciple to insinuate my presence is a burden to a Pillar. Are you not aware of how much my aid my family has provided to the Demon Corps?"

Aoi falters under his cold stare. You decide to step in. "Fuji-sama," you start. "She is simply relaying Shinobu-san's instructions. Holding her responsible for it is pointless."

You don't say, 'Why are you so petty you would intimidate a child to get your way?' because you don't want to bring Shinobu more trouble. You wish she was here to witness this.

Though he has shown to be capable of magnanimity and politeness, he only reserves it for occasions and people he deems worthy. Everyone else is simply part of the common rabble, too low in status to lick the soles of his feet. Could this be why Aoi hates interacting with him?

Fuji flicks his sleeves. "Aoi-san was previously trained as a demon slayer, and yet, she did not set one foot into the battlefield. I have always wondered why. Now, I've found the reason."

"Do go on," you mutter. Aoi tugs on your sleeve, so you decide not to interrupt him.

Fuji continues, "She is simply too weak. Weak in body and in will. Aoi-san, it is good you chose to be a doctor's apprentice. If you had taken up the sword, you would have been crushed by the trials that awaited you as a Slayer." He shakes his head in an approximation of pity.

Aoi hangs her head, her hands clenched into fists. Seeing her tremble, you're overcome with indignation. Ichiro Fuji has truly overstepped.

She's told you about her past before, and you never judged her for it. Who are you to do so? More importantly, who is he to do such a thing?

"What business is it of yours?" you reply, your tone sharp and controlled. "What she is capable of is not for you to determine. She only needs to answer to herself. Yes, Aoi did not become a Slayer like either of us, but to measure the strength of a person by the number of demons they've killed is the most senseless thing I've ever heard."

You place a firm hand on Aoi's shoulder. "Fuji-sama, everyone has weakness. We've all fallen prey to it at some time or another. It's nothing to be ashamed about. It disturbs me you think you're above making such mistakes."

Ichiro Fuji laughs. It is a mocking sound that tells you he hasn't heard a single word. As Shinobu had told you earlier, you shouldn't have bothered. Trying to convince him was like attempting to scale Mount Fuji naked. You'd probably die before you succeeded.

"Enough of this," Fuji says. "I did not come to overturn whatever naïve notions you hold about the world."

"Then what did you come here for?" Aoi's voice has regained her usual strength. You nod. Good.

"Since both of you insist on treating me as an outsider, I won't be polite." Fuji squares his chest. "My intention of today's visit is to convince Shinobu to be my, Ichiro Fuji's, wife. Now, are you going to call for her, or shall I?"

Chapter Text

"Aoi has already said what she's needed," you say. "Neither of us are calling her. Still, if you want to force your way past us, we won't stop you. Just know you'd have to face the consequence of going against a Pillar's orders."

Fuji's face twists comically. He stands there, an incredulous look on his face as it sinks in none of you are about to bend to his will. He clearly isn't used to being defied.

You answer him with a firm, unyielding stare. You suspect he had banked on you reacting badly to his declaration and picking a fight. Like you'd fall into such a blatant trap. Trying to get an upper hand on a merchant in a war of words will take more effort than obnoxious swagger and pomp.

"Fuji-sama," Aoi says, "I know you've travelled a long way, even bringing so many gifts. But Shinobu-san has given me her orders, and I must fulfil them. I hope you won't make things difficult."

Aoi gives him a splendid bow. Her figure folds into a perfect ninety degree angle. To any observers, her actions breathes of humility and respect. As Fuji dissects her for flaws, his annoyed glower gradually subsides. His businessman persona makes an appearance, the same one he wore when he ruined your day with Shinobu.

"Since you say nothing can be done, I'll return for today," Fuji finally says. "I understand your position, Aoi-san, and let me say this. If I were you, I would be thrilled to work under a woman like Shinobu-san. Her work ethic and kindness are one of the many traits about her worthy of admiration. Perhaps being around her will allow them to rub off on you."

You're tempted to feign gagging at his spiel. You tilt your head away instead, to mask the pity you feel him.

Does he think complimenting Shinobu-san in front of Aoi will appeal him to her? Not counting way he insulted Aoi earlier, her opinion of him was low to begin with.

Add on that he's just declared his intentions toward a person she holds dear to her heart, you won't be surprised if Aoi was hopping mad at not being able to give Fuji a kick to the crotch.

You glance at her. Aoi's left foot bounces up and down, the hem of her robes just barely masking the movement. You silently applaud her for holding herself back. Her effort is admirable.

"Thank you, Fuji-sama." You seal your words with a bow. "Oh. I neglected to ask, but will you be leaving with the gifts or passing them to Aoi?"

Fuji scoffs, "It will obviously be the latter." He gestures for a servant to come forward. A lanky man dressed in an eye catching robe embroided with the Wisteria family emblem – who glares at you as he passes by – politely hands Aoi a scroll tied with a wax ribbon.

She turns it over in her hands. "This is...?"

"A record of the gifts my master brought today," the man says. "Feel free to look through it once we move the gifts into the estate."

I pat her on the shoulder. "That's nice of them. It'll save you time from going through them later."

You smile at her pointed gaze. The 'I rather they take everything back' is rather blatant. You turn back to the servant and his master. "Will that be all?"

"No," Fuji says. He's looking at you, and his stare holds an intensity that catches you off guard. "Kuroshio, it would please me if you joined me for tea."

That is... not what you were expecting. You don't want to interact with him for any longer than you already have, but there's an air about him that sets your danger senses alight. "Is this an invitation or an order?"

Aoi's worried gaze bounces back and forth between both of you. You're tempted to reassure her, but you can't bring yourself to do it. Like her, you have no idea what intentions he harbours.

Fuji stands with his back straight, his perfectly made hair lightly tousled by the wind. He considers your challenge, looking more even-kneeled than you've ever seen him. Then, a slow smile spreads across his face.

"It is an order from a Kinoe of the Demon Slayer Corps," he says. "Rest assured, we won't go far. My main carriage is waiting right outside the compound and it is big enough to be comfortable for a short tea session."

You'd rather let a demon take a big, wet bite out of your ass. Instead of saying the truth of your feelings, you suck it up and dip your head in acknowledgement. Of course, you can reject him by feigning illness or faking a story of being summoned by Oyakata-sama, but a small part of you is morbidly curious as to what he wants.

To persuade you to aid him in his mission to marry Shinobu, perhaps?

If your answering smile is a little too sharp... well, it's not like Fuji can do anything about it.

"Very well. This Tsuchinoto will accept your order." You try to read his face for what he might be planning, but Fuji immediately takes his leave. The lanky servant is left behind, likely to supervise the gifts. With his master gone, the man doesn't bother with you and lopes off to direct the carriages to the estate's back entrance.

"Ryuu," Aoi says. "Do you really have to?"

"Unless Shinobu-san is here to counter or rescind Fuji's order, I'm rulebound to follow him as long as he isn't purposefully leading me to my death."

Aoi pales. You realize your mistake and hasten to interject before she starts to entertain those kinds of thoughts. "It shouldn't be anything serious. We're at headquarters, and no matter how much weight he holds within the Corps, I doubt he's foolish enough to do something so drastic."

"I wish he would just go away. It's really annoying to deal with this, not knowing if he'd leave Nee-san alone. Kanao's getting annoyed with this nonsense too, and she rarely cares about stuff like this."

"Even Kanao, huh?" Despite already being here for two months, you can count on one hand how many times she's talked to you. You sigh and rub the back of your neck. At this point, you're pretty sure she doesn't like you. It's a little sad.

"Yeah. I just want to tell that stupid fellow Nee-san already..." Aoi's hand shoots up to cover her mouth. "Never mind."

You give her a quizzical stare. "Fuji-sama probably wants to talk about Shinobu-san. I'll try my best to dissuade him to be less... direct, but I won't make promises."

Ichiro Fuji, for all his blatant faults, has a deeper side to him. You've no doubt about that. Everyone does. However, how prepared you are to handle is another question entirely.

"Really troublesome," Aoi grumbles a final time. She's frowning, and it reflects how you feel inside.

"Trouble will find us whether we're prepared to deal with it or not." You stare glumly in the direction Fuji left in. You think to Shinobu's earlier words and hope it will be enough. You breathe out a heavy sigh. "Hopefully, I already have all the luck I need."

Chapter Text

You stand at the foot of the carriage, admiring the horses while Fuji relays quick word of instruction to someone in the carriage. You hold out a tentative hand, letting it hover over the horse's wet nose. "May I?"

The carriage driver gives you a nod. You lean forward, stroking upwards from nose to forehead. The vague movements of your fingers gain traction. Soon, you're lightly scratching the silky coat, working down the mane to its neck. The horse harrumphs quietly, but relents under your formidable touch.

"Surprised she left your fingers alone," the man laughs. "You got to er' weak spot without blinking. You owned horses, boy?"

"My father did," you say. "Not a purebred like this one, but she was strong enough. Pulled carts for him for nearly twenty years."

The man rubs his chin, the tips of his bony fingers brushing his greying beard. "Where's she now?"

"Gone." When he gives you a pitying look, you shake your head, laughing. "Not like that. The family wanted her back. There wasn't much he could do considering he worked for them." The horse whinnies when you try to scratch it under the chin. You move back to the patch above its nose and it settles down. "It's fine, though. She deserved a good retirement."

"Horses 're meant to work." He gives the horse's backside a light slap. "If Sai-chan retires, she'll just turn into a lump of fat." Your hand is shrugged away, the horse glaring over her shoulder. "Wha' I say? Did I lie?"

You laugh when the horse neighs in an aggrieved manner that reminds you of your mother after every argument with your father. "That would be the wrong thing to say, sir."

The horse kicks up dirt with its hooves, and the carriage driver groans. "Sai-chan!"

"I'll leave you two be," you chuckle, looking back to where Fuji is standing. He's staring at you with a hand planted on his hips. You suppress a roll of your eyes and head over. "You called, Fuji-sama?"

Your sarcasm goes ignored. "You can drop the formalities," he says with a wave of his hand. "We should not be considered strangers." He pulls the carriage door open, and a faint cloud of steam drifts out of the carriage. "Let us get on with the tea session I promised you."

You enter after him and shut the door behind you. Fuji pulls back the patterned paper blinds and opens the window built into the carriage wall. As he does so, you let your eyes trail over the delicate woodwork of the interior.

Made from no ordinary wood, carved amber veins run along the hand rests of the varnished seats. The cushions you're sitting on are softer than sin. Life-like replicas of wisteria flowers, the surface dark and slick in a way that can only be ebony, dangle from four corners of roof. They swaying lightly in the wandering breeze.

"The craftsman who created them demanded we supply him with only the finest materials," Fuji says, drawing your attention. "In accordance to his wishes, my family spent a fair amount of yen to obtain the densest hardwood we could get our hands on. See this," he reaches up to touch of the wisteria replica. A small push of a finger reveals the hollow insides. "He'd made it in such a manner it can double as an incense burner."

"An ingenious design," you say. Your fingers itch to sketch it in your notebook. It's probably coated with some kind of anti-inflammatory substance. You wish you could take the sculpture apart to determine what it is.

"Outside of nobles and government officials, a carriage like this won't be found anywhere else," Fuji says with pride. "It is simply a shame my family urged me to use it as my personal transport. I originally planned to gift it as dowry had Shinobu accepted my first proposal."

"Oh?" You can feel the polite smile plastered on your face straining. And then, "What do you mean by your first proposal?"

"It was an offer the Wisteria Family made to her at my behest. I insisted they send the proposal after the ceremony, the one where I was granted the Kinoe title," Fuji says. "I had never needed aid from the Butterfly House, so it was there that we first crossed paths. I can recall when I laid eyes on her, how arresting her beauty had been, and still is."

You bite down a groan when he continues. You fail to understand the point of this. You know he's in love with her, but you have no need to know how deeply it runs.

"My family agreed to my request fairly easily. The Kocho family lack the ancient lineage of us Fuji's, but they go back for a decent number of generations." Fuji picks up his steaming cup of tea. He takes off the lid, steam wisping into the air. "Their long and coloured history as medical practitioners has taught them to embrace both sides of human nature. To be capable of nurturing life, and also to bring it to an end. I admire it."

At your silence, Fuji speaks up again. "Were you previously aware of anything I've just said?"

"No." You hate the way his lip curls, how he doesn't bother suppressing his smirk. "Seeking out information like that is pointless without a use for it." Your hands tighten around the tea vessel, and you pay extra attention not to break it. It probably costs more than your life.

If he's brought you here to flaunt his knowledge, you're not particularly impressed. Family histories, what a person's life was like before slaying demons, those were inconsequential. You wouldn't like someone doing that to you. If she wants to talk about such things without you, so be it. You're curious about her, but covertly seeking information does not sit well with you. Not to mention how invasive the act is.

You run your fingers over the lusciously painted wisteria petals blooming across the tea vessel. "For what reason did you ask me invite me here?"

Fuji shrugs. He takes another sip of his tea, but it doesn't take long before he answers, "To prove I am greater company than any of the usual rabble you mix with. And to highlight the difference between us, how much you lack when compared to me."

The series of incidents he's been responsible for so far, the unintentional disruption of your business plans, his rabid pursuit of Shinobu, had already forced you to readjust your opinion of him. Fuji is a bit of a contradiction. He is not is a useless young master leeching off family wealth, and the fact he's made it to Kinoe is also a testament to his own skill.

You understand the reasons for Fuji's arrogance. You do not agree with it, but you know growing up as he did inevitably shaped him. It's not as if arrogance was unique to him. However, he is sorely mistaken if he thinks you will sit and endure his belittling.

"What I lack? I can live with." You lean back, resting your head against the hump of the cushion. "I do not need the disdain you hold toward lower classes, the mindset that people can be won over through wealth." The hard set to Fuji's jaw makes your chest hum with satisfaction. "I also do not mind lacking the delusion that I'm entitled to anything for simply being born into a seat of privilege."

"Here is something to add to your list," Fuji says with a sneer. "You also lack the requirements to be what Shinobu needs."

"And how would you know that? Shinobu-san is the Insect Pillar. She doesn't need assistance from the likes of us." You snort, staring at the rim of your teacup.

"I suspected you would say that," Fuji says. "And it the reason why I deigned to sit in your presence today, listening to you harp on minor quibbles that, in the grand scheme of things, are worthless. People who argue that strength of character is important simply have nothing else to offer."

"Hah," you shake your head. "And that is what those who do not have it tend to say."

"It is undeniable Shinobu has gotten far by relying on herself, but it will not stay that way," Fuji says, steepling his fingers under his chin. "The future holds more obstacles, more dangers than a single person will be able to endure. I know this because I pay attention to the larger picture. There is no foreseeable end to this between demons and humans. A sizeable number of them is enough to cause us grief, and who's to say the forces behind them will not seek to increase their numbers?"

You ignore the tension beginning to coil in your stomach. What Fuji says is true, and you've thought about it on occasion. Demons are superior to humans in every conceivable way. Despite years of demon hunting, you have yet to see an end to their numbers. But what does Fuji mean by 'the forces behind them'?

"This war will not end. Not until…"

You hate how you're hanging on to his every word. "Until what?"

"Until we create a cure to turn them back into humans." Thereby reducing the need to training greenhorns into slayers who either die terrible deaths or turn into demons themselves, your mind supplies. It would tilt the war solely in the humans' favour.

"That's…" you swallow. "That's impossible."

"As of now, it may be so." Fuji pins you with a look. "But with Shinobu paving the way… it is not impossible. And to execute such a feat, she needs–"

"Knowledge. Materials. Manpower." You stare blankly at your tea.

"And to obtain such things, one needs money. Mountains of it." He folds his arms, giving you a look of pity. Genuine, heartfelt pity. You wonder what kind of expression you're wearing, for him to look at you like that. "The dowry I promised to Shinobu includes the deeds to every medicinal shop I own. Profits, materials and all. Even the ones working there, their life contracts will be in her hands. And that's not all I'm prepared to offer."

"And what does Shinobu-san…" your voice falters. "What does she think of it?"

At this, Fuji turns glum. "I have yet to announce it, seeing as she has refused to accept an audience with me." His eyes refocus onto you. "But I have no doubt she will accept my proposal when she hears it. Wouldn't you do the same?"

Your mind spins. Of course you would. This kind of offer… rational and determined as Shinobu is, how can she stay silent? In comparison, everything you have to offer is but a fart in the wind.

When the realization hits you, it feels like falling into a lake during winter. Freezing the breath in your lungs, turning the blood in your veins into blocks of ice.

You look at Fuji. He sits there, impeccably postured with one hand tucked in his robe. You look down at yourself in the reflection of the tea. A scraggly, exhausted man stares back. Your hair is mussed, you hadn't bothered to style it this morning and immediately dived into your books after a simple washing up.

Sitting before you is the head of what must be one of the most powerful families in the country, and you are… what? A moderately successful merchant. Who, other than lacking a strong foundation, is also estranged from his remaining kin. From an outsider's perspective, you'd even lack the credentials to compare yourself to Ichiro Fuji.

Truly, the best jokes are the ones you don't notice until their punchlines are delivered.

You push the tea cup away. "Shinobu-san has enough on her plate as it is," you say. "Don't add to her problems by acting out and distracting her. Learn to shut up and listen instead of throwing your weight around."

"Hah?" Fuji snaps.

"And most of all," you say. "Stop visiting the estate so often. You're pissing everyone off, barging in randomly and sending gifts no one likes. At least learn the names of the girls who work there, or they'll always like me better than they do you."

You don't wait for him to reply and shove the carriage door open. When you set one foot on the ground outside, Fuji finally reacts.

"Impudent," He sputters. "You can't speak to me this way!"

"Yes, and you can't do anything about it," you reply over your shoulder as you stalk away. "You're an eyesore. Remind me to never sit with you in an enclosed area again. And by the way, this was the single worst tea session I've ever experienced. You're terrible company."

"If you leave without an apology, do not think the Wisteria Family will grant you aid. Not even if you crawl to our doorstep with your guts hanging out!"

"If that's what it takes to never speak to you again, I'll take it."

"You will regret this," you hear him shouting as you walk down the dirt path into the headquarters' main compound. "Remember this day on your deathbed, Kuroshio!"

"I regret a lot things," you call back as you leave him in the dust. "This won't be one of them."

---

You spend the rest of the day holed inside your room. It's nearly dark now, and a glance outside tells you it should be nearly time for dinner. The meal you look most forward to every single day. Not just due to Aoi's deft cooking skills, but due to the companionship and warmth that comes from a lively gathering.

You are hesitant to call having dinner together a routine. Words like that should be reserved for people like Kanao and the rest of the residents of Butterfly Estate. You are a drifting moth, temporary taking shelter in the warmth they provide.

Would you be forced to leave when Fuji enters the picture and steals all that warmth for himself?

Your eyes flit back to the written lines in the notes. It hardly works as a distraction when you've read the first line for the tenth time that hour. "Still on the third page. If I knew I would be this distracted, I'd have just taken a nap."

You frown and put down the notebook. You've haven't felt this terrible since your sixteenth birthday. The one exactly a year after the catastrophe, where the moon spat glaring beams of moonlight onto the three graves you diligently tended to throughout the night.

A couple of solid blinks chases the vision away, and you place the notebook on the pile. You shake your head. You had an entire stack to finish yet you've barely made progress. If Shinobu would here, she would tease you for your lack of focus.

Shinobu has been busy with patients the entire day, as she has been for the past week. You miss–

No, you can't think of her. Not in that capacity. After what Fuji has said, what grounds can you stand on to think about her in such a way? That meeting proved you were delusional and undeserving. You had nothing you could offer her other than your companionship and measly savings.

You place your elbows on the table and bury your face into your hands. It's your fault for letting your feelings sprout to such an extent. Getting rid of it instantly is impossible, and to make things worse, doing so feels abhorrent and foreign.

When did your feelings grow so much that trying to ignore them wracks you with an almost physical pain? If only you'd denied Oyakata-sama's request. If only you hadn't agreed to allow Shinobu accompany you on that trip. If only, if only…

"Ryuu-san?"

You jerk upright at the sound of her voice. "Shinobu-san. You're back?" You don't stay frozen for long. "Wait, let me help." You stand and walk over to her. "That's a lot to carry for someone with only two hands."

You take the top most container from the stack she's holding. Lifting it reveals her piercing purple eyes. Your arms freeze above your head when you lock gazes with her.

"Thank you," Shinobu says, her smile soft as a feather. "I appreciate the help. I wish Oyakata-sama assigned you to assist me sooner. Had there been an opportunity to split grunt work like this during the construction of my greenhouse, I would gotten less wrinkles."

"You're still awfully young," You crack a smile. "And I'm sure your attendants tripped over themselves offering their help."

Shinobu sighs. "They do it because they fear me. Not out of compassion, Ryuu-san."

You lead her toward the far corner of the room where she usually leaves the failed experiment results. Your gut clenches looking at the sheer amount of containers stacked against the wall, tagged with dates and inexplicable wordings. You set down the container in your arms, careful not to jostle the rest.

"I'm sure not all of them feel that way," you reply. You gesture at the new containers. "Are they the same experiments? What happened?"

Shinobu purses her lips. "These were my attempts to crossbreed wisteria with other similar plants. I had hoped they would turn out successful. They would have been the perfect ingredients for several antidotes I wish to create."

She raises a hand and gently touches the bottom of her chin. You force yourself to look away. "It is shame it didn't succeed," Shinobu says. "The wisteria saplings I used were exceptional specimens."

"Like Fuji?"

Shinobu pauses, her brow knitting. "Excuse me?"

You want to find the nearest well and dive straight to the bottom, water or no. Her full attention is now on you. Her playfulness has completely dissipated after your badly worded… insult? Hint?

You wish Fuji had broken your jaw. It would have spared you from sticking your foot into your mouth.

Your clear your throat. "What I meant was, why don't you ask Fuji-sama for more of them?" Her eyes are glued onto you. She's not buying it. When seconds crawl by without a word, you clear throat again. "I misspoke. Forgive me."

"You did not." Her tone is… there's no emotion. No anger, no contempt, no disappointment. The idea of her being apathetic to you is scarier than the thought of Fuji marrying her.

"No, I–" You swallow your defensiveness. You know this is the moment you must speak the truth and nothing else. Any attempts to deceive Shinobu will just bring about a worse result. "I met with Fuji-sama, today."

"Aoi informed me as soon as she secured the gifts."

"He told me several things about… what he's done for you." You hesitate. "And what he plans to offer."

"Fuji-sama, by virtue of his post within the Demon Slayer Corps and lineage, is expected to assist us. In addition, the Wisteria Family might be one of our biggest benefactors, but they are certainly not the only ones." Shinobu adjusts the neckline of her butterfly patterned haori. "Whatever he plans on offering can be earned. It won't be a problem to get them from another source."

"No, what he's offering is… it could be the only thing you'd ever need." You feel like the room is closing in with each word you force out of your mouth. It hurts, but you need to say it. For her sake. "Fuji-sama might have his faults, but he is indeed, exceptional. Both of you…" You grit out. "Both of you complement each other."

Shinobu doesn't say anything for a long time. Her eyes rest on your face, which you sure is scrunched up in all manner of conflicted emotions. Where did your merchant persona go? The one that pulled you through the exhausting arguments and discussions between clients and rivals, the one you took so much pride in?

Perhaps it had been a lie as well. Another delusion you fed into during long, lonely trips across the country, desperate for the normalcy of your childhood. For your father, mother and sister to be alive and not maggoty piles of flesh resting under public graves, forbidden to rest with the rest of the Kuroshio line.

"Do you truly think that?" Shinobu says it in a voice so quiet you almost don't think you heard her at all.

You throat is tight. Of course you don't believe that. You bite on your tongue and draw blood. The copper tang is refreshing, almost alarming in its headiness. If you open your mouth again, Shinobu would know. Know that you lied. And you are aware, looking upon her now, that she would not forgive you unless you tell her your true feelings.

You clench your teeth and suck in a breath. "I…"

"MI-SS-ION! MISSION FOR RY-UU!" Your entire body slumps. For once, you are grateful to that obnoxious crow. "DEMON SI-GHT-ED. EMERGENCY, EMER-"

"Duty does not wait," Shinobu says. "Have a pleasant mission, Kuroshio-san."

"Shinobu, I'm–" She leaves so swiftly you don't even have time to get out the most important part. The 'sorry' on your lips is swallowed, and it burns a path down your throat all the way to the pit of your stomach.

The door is closed, mocking you that despite everything, Shinobu had enough rationality to shut it as she was leaving. You lean against the containers and shut your eyes.

Shinobu has a dream. It is a dream that eclipses dreams, including yours. You will not ruin it for her.

"I can't regret this…" you say to the empty room. "I can't."

Chapter Text

It's been precisely two weeks, each passing day as unrestful as the last. You've switched between three forms of transport throughout the journey, travelling on foot, carriage and donkey, but none have dulled the seemingly permanent ache in your chest.

Travel has never made you this weary. You know it has nothing to do with the physical exhaustion, everything to do with the mess you left behind.

"One more day to Kakunodate." You stare unblinkingly at the map in your hands, as your words drift into the blistering heat of your campfire. "Three days without a reply. Perhaps it'll only return at first light."

You lift your head, looking up into the night sky for signs of a flapping shadow amidst the backdrop of stars. Seeing none, you heave a sigh. "Patience, Ryuu. You've been overworking that poor bird."

Your Kasugai Crow has barely been at your side throughout these two and a half weeks. You're surprised it's actually obeyed your instructions thus far, especially since you have yet to give your companion a hearty treat.

You have been taking utmost precautions with rationing your supplies. Seeing as you rushed out of the Butterfly Estate without preparations, the money you brought has long been used up. You'll have access to your reserves at Kakunodate, but till then, you only have what's left in your field pack.

You recall what your sister used to say, about animal companions being able to sense the emotional states of their masters. You never thought you'd end up experiencing it yourself.

Your stomach chooses that moment to interrupt with a rumbling growl. You silence it with a gentle rub, muttering, "Even if the spirit is close to exhaustion, the body continues to hunger."

You reach into your haversack and retrieve the last of your food. You unwrap the oiled paper, revealing a small cut of beef. The meat is a deep wine red, and the light from the fire makes the colour run darker.

You recall the most recent landmark you passed, a twisting river that goes on for miles as it cuts through bountiful rice fields. According to your map, you should reach Kakunodate Town by tomorrow. It should be fine for you to let loose.

Decision made, you grab your iron pan, heating it over the fire. Waiting until the bottom is lightly glowing, you toss in the beef. Your eyes slide shut at the melodic sizzle. It smells glorious. Your mood is lifts at the splendid fragrance.

When you hear a familiar, errant flap of feathered wings ten minutes later, it takes all of your strength not to roll your eyes.

"RYUU," the crow intones in a loud caw, dropping the letter rudely onto your burlap sack. "RE-PLY FROM SE-ND-ER!" It flies circles around your head.

"You have a damned good sense of timing." You pluck the seared beef from the pan and toss it on a nearby rock. The Kasugai Crow does a nosedive and snaps it between its beak before flying off.

So much for your snack. Sighing, you set down the pan and turn your attention to the letter. The first thing you see is your name scribbled across its surface, and your hunger dissipates like smoke. You reach over to take the letter, surrendering yourself to the indulgent smile that curves up the corners of your mouth.

It is Aoi's handwriting. She's been replying each and every letter, and you can't helped but feel touched. You undo the string and spread the paper over your lap, your eyes jumping from one bolded word to the next.

'Ryuu, I hope this letter finds you safely as always. Thank you for the last letter and the sketches you sent. From what you drew, the scenery in Akita seems beautiful. I'm happy you captured some of it, and with charcoal, too.

Don't be disappointed, but there are no snacks to go along with letter. I know I promised to send them, but upon further consideration, it would give your messenger undue burden.

Anyway, I have a feeling it would gobble the snacks before it reached you. I've been feeding your crow whenever it arrives with a letter, and it eats as much as you did. It feels as if you didn't leave.'

You bark out a laugh. That sly bird has been gorging itself under the guise of willingly delivering your heartfelt letters. The bigger question is how you will satisfy it, now that it has tasted Aoi's cooking. Somewhere in the trees, you imagine the beast turning its beak up in agreement.

'Replying to your question, I'm happy to write that there's nothing to worry about. Oyakata-sama has sent Mitsuru-san to deal with the problem, so our workload should be considerably lighter once that demon is dealt with.

In lighter news, that annoying young master seems to have finally stopped coming. He hasn't visited since his last one. Good riddance! I have yet to pawn off all of the useless decorations he brought last time.'

You think back to Fuji's enraged words after you had given him a thorough tongue lashing. It's not one of your finest moments, losing yourself in a fit of emotion, but not a lie was spoken. You do not regret it.

Had you been anyone else, you would've been frightened to anger someone of such high social status. But you are a Slayer. Four years has passed since you first begun in this career, and in that time, you've had plenty of time to foster your mental fortitude.

Besides, regardless of Fuji's background, both of you are still a part of the Demon Slayer Corps. Unless he wants to offend Oyakata-sama, he won't do anything drastic.

What is strange, however, is that Fuji has yet to make his move. You expected him to make great strides with Shinobu now that you've already estranged yourself from her. Perhaps he hasn't found out about the situation yet, but he will, eventually.

Your fist clenches involuntarily at the thought. If you think about it, this mission is a blessing in disguise. No matter how much you want to fix things, this distance and Shinobu's unwillingness render it impossible to work on a solution. You decided to write letters because of Aoi and the girls, and not for any other reason.

'About the letters you're sending, Ryuu. I know you haven't asked but I'll tell you anyway. Shinobu nee-san reads them, though she never writes back. She's been really busy recently. Without you here to stop her, nee-san practically throws herself into her research.'

Your hate how your pulse flutters at that line. You continue reading.

'I don't want to bring this up, not when you're so far away... but did something happen between the both of you? None of you talk about it, but I can tell something is off.

She doesn't talk about you at all, and when I ask about it, Shinobu nee-san refuses to give me details. Which means it's up to you to tell me what happened. There better be a good reason for it!'

You have to smile at Aoi's bluntness. You should take a page from her book and approach your problems with single minded determination instead of pretending everything's fine.

Aoi might harbour an intense, deep-seated self-doubt from her failure to make it into the Demon Slayer Corps, but she's not as weak as she thinks she is. Though she chose a different path due to fear of her mortality, it's not as if she gave up. She still fights in the war against demons.

If Aoi had joined the Corps, she would have learned Slayers were still only human and not miraculous, awe-inspiring beings as she believes they are. Pillars, who display loyalty beyond words and throw themselves wholeheartedly into the goal of eradicating demons, are the exception. Not the majority.

Over the years, you've met a small handful of people who abuse the authority that comes with their positions. Fuji's actions could be viewed as polite when compared to them. Not that you'd ever tell Aoi. You've ruined enough things with these hands.

But is it possible not to? Is there a way to let her down gently when you tell her how you've decided to move out of the Butterfly estate after this mission? You have yet to find an answer.

'In the meantime, I shall await your next letter. Sumi says hi, Kiyo says she misses your stories, and Naho says she wants a hug when you get back. I'm testing out some new recipes in the meantime, so come back safely, Ryuu.

Be rest assured, because though Shinobu nee-san hasn't written back, I'll continue writing in her place.'

Shadows fall across the paper. They undulate recklessly as the flames of the fire pit continue to dance. You sigh, folding the letter to be stowed safely in your haversack. You appreciate Aoi's hopefulness, but if she knew of what happened that day, she would understand Shinobu's attitude toward you. That is the absolute truth.

Have a pleasant mission, Kuroshio-san. Those wereShinobu's final words to you, her voice still rings poisonously in your ears. The moment she uttered those words, you knew she had mentally severed the partnership she'd formed with you on your first fateful use of your family name was an acknowledgement of your request.

That had more deeply than any injury you've endured. Your fingers hover over an area below your collarbone, an old injury which still throbs from time to time.

Regardless. It's a good thing you didn't realize what you felt for Shinobu until it was too late. You never acted on your feelings, and in turn, there still remains a chance to bleed them out of your system. To drain the poison before it brings you to ruin. She is as effectual on you as her wisteria poison is on demons.

You put away the letter, then get onto your feet to put out the fire. "I wonder what advice you all would have given if you were here." Your words are carried away on the drafty night breeze.

The speckled night sky will keep watch over you as you endure another unrestful night of sleep. Tomorrow, you will reach Kakunodate. Tomorrow, you will be a day closer in returning to how your life used to be.

You've been through this prefecture numerous times, but you don't remember the journey being so quiet. A number of carts pulled by oxen, a couple of solo travellers, three or four large groups of farmers. Pulling low numbers like this seems impossible for a bustling castle town like Kakunodate.

Your father had claimed he made small fortunes here each time he visited. Granted, his last journey here was close to half a decade ago, but last you checked, the salesmen who worked under you regularly reported good earnings when they visited this town. One of them had even done good enough to open a shop here.

You try to recall the specifics of the last update you received from him. You come up empty. You'll be going in blind. Not the best way to start a mission.

It can't be helped. With all the work you've been carrying out on behalf of the Slayer Corps, you haven't had time to check in on your businesses. That's the excuse you liked using, anyway. You should have at least made an efforted to read the monthly missives they sent. Nothing you can do about it now.

You shield your eyes from the midday sun and look into the distance. You're almost there. From where you stand, you catch a glimpse of the ruins of the castle that once rested atop that large hill.

Though the grand castle was demolished decades ago, much to the dismay of the population here who relied on it to draw in government officials and tourists, Kakunodate remains a stronghold for samurai and merchants. That was all you knew about your destination from second hand accounts and old stories.

Not as glorious at it once was, but still well-off compared to other towns. It certainly didn't look that way on the outside, however.

Two armoured man stand outside the looming gates, both looking incredibly weary. They are busy checking the cart in front of you, and you stop behind it and wait for your turn. It takes longer than you expect. The owner of the cart, sitting atop the horse, says something unintelligible just as the town gates swing open.

"The market's on the left. Watch where you're going, we don't need any accidents at this time." When the cart is through, the gates swing shut. "Next!"

You step up. The guard who checked the cart goes bowstring tense when he takes one look at you. Tension bleeds into the air. Why have they suddenly turned aggressive?

As you're thinking this, you notice their hands moving towards the katana hanging at their waists. Your own sword hand twitches. You just barely hold back from placing it on your own blade.

You've cut down humans with your Nichirin before, but you'd rather not use it unless you're truly in dire straits. It is an item meant to deliver justice unto demons, not people.

"Do you think he's..." The guard looks at his companion. "He doesn't look like one of them."

"I can't be sure," the other guard is an older man with a scraggly beard. His distrustful eyes bore into you. "State your intentions, traveller. What is your reason for your visit?"

Well, now. What kind of attitude should you assume here?

The older man doesn't flinch when you swing your haversack to your front, but the younger one nearly draws his weapon. You arrange your expression into a slightly frightened one as you show the set of papers and token you carry on you at all times.

"Here," you add a slight quiver to your words. "Please, check them." You move with aching slowness and place them into the guard's hands.

Once the older man verifies the authenticity of your papers and token, he signals at the younger guard to stand down like you knew he would. Both are legitimate proof of your membership in the merchant's guild.

"Welcome to Kakunodate, Kuroshio-san," the older greets. "Kase, tell the men to open the gates." As the younger man goes off to signal the men on the other side, three or four of them visible through the metal grills, you regard the older man with a searching gaze.

"Did I look too suspicious? I've been told this face of mine is fiercer than I'd like," you say.

"It was your katana," he replies, giving the sheathed weapon a curious glance. "Your dressing, too. You are aware that it resembles a uniform, yes? Other than bandit scum, this town gets attacked by loyalists quite often." He scoffs. "They want to destabilize this prefecture's power by taking out our men. Feh, those cowardly bastards have pulp for brains."

"Oh." You look around. "Are they why this town's getting terrible foot traffic?"

"As expected of a merchant." The guard sighs. "Unfortunately, we're still looking into the exact cause. I don't think it's due to the loyalists since we've had those ever since Akita was established. It doesn't make sense that people are scared away, not when Kakunodate is always able to repel them." He shrugs. "It has been hard to dig out the truth, especially with all the rumours going around."

You smell a lead. Your mouth stretches into an inviting smile, and you look over his shoulder to see Kase, the younger guard, engaged in a heated conversation with his comrades on the other side of the gate. It seems the heavens have seen fit to grant you an opportunity.

"I see. Well, if you don't mind me enquiring, sir...?"

The man laughs, a deep and joyous sound. "I'm just simple guardsman, Kuroshio-san. You can call me Wareta."

"Alright, Wareta-san," you say. "Do you think you could tell me some of these rumours you've heard? I am quite curious as to what their contents might be." You arrange your fingers in a cheeky gesture. "There might be money to be made from it."

"Always about the profits with you merchants," Wareta shakes his head. "But seeing how the way of the sword is what samurai dedicate their lives toward, asking a merchant to be content with they own would be akin to a death sentence."

"Well spoken for a simple guard, Wareta-san."

Straight-laced men like him are not the easiest to get along with, but you've had plenty of experience with this type. The Demon Corps have its share of them.

Your polite and prodding questions quickly set a foundation for your rapport between you and Wareta, and when Kase returns, he finds you two getting along like a house on fire.

"Kase-san, right?" You acknowledge his presence with a quick wave. "Sorry, I ended up side-tracked. Am I allowed inside?"

"Of course," Kase says. "Take care not to cause trouble while you're here. We don't take kindly to visitors infracting on the rules."

"Ah, Kase, I see someone approaching." When the younger man makes to go, Wareta stops him with a raised hand. "Don't worry, I think it's Natta-san. I should be fine on my own." Wareta gives you a firm pat on the shoulder. "Kuroshio-san, if you fancy the taste of great alcohol, you'd do well to visit my wife's shop in the merchant's district. It'll be my treat if I catch you there."

"Free drinks?" You raise your brow. "I should be the one to treat you. You've been a big help. But I won't say no if you insist."

"I insist!" Wareta says good naturedly, stroking his beard. "Off with you, then." When he leaves, you turn to see Kase staring after him.

"Something wrong?" you ask.

"Ah, no. It's just, I'm surprised," Kase says absently. "He hasn't brought up anything relating to his wife ever since she passed several months ago."

You blink. "Oh. Perhaps I reminded him of his son?"

Kase scoffs. "They had no children, Kuroshio-san. Now, if you will excuse me. My shift isn't over yet." After ushering you through the gates, he turns and leaves. The shriek of metal from the enormous gate mixes with the strenuous grunts of the gatemen as it swings shut.

You stare at the looming metal gates and think back on Kase's words. Wareta provided plenty of information during the earlier conversation, and though you'd love to chalk it up as an act of kindness...

You smile grimly. "Too chatty." Considering this town was supposed to be defending against loyalists of the demolished shogunate, they should have been watching out for spies in addition to rebel samurais. "Am I thinking too much?"

You will need to see if what Wareta told you checks out. The things he told you would be of great help if they were true.

You make your way down the street, following the signs pointing toward the town's central market. Despite the nearly empty paths leading to Kakunodate, the town still has a relatively large population. You see folk going about their business, the air bursting with chatter and activity.

You reach the bridge and look over at the crowd of bodies on the other side. What better place to source for rumours and hearsay than at the town market?

But first, you'll need to get some supplies. Hopefully, the shop of the salesman under you will be easy enough to find.

Chapter Text

You pick your way through the sea of bodies. All manner of cries are bandied at you from every direction, the chatter of marketgoers fusing with the calls of merchants, shop owners and roadside hawkers attempting to attract customers.

"Steamed potatoes! Com' get some freshly steamed potatoes!"

"See the colour of this thread? You won't find it unless yer go all the way to the city and want it for half the price? Dream on' fella!"

You dodge an elbow from a greasy elderly man stinking of charcoal. He doesn't spare you glance, hovering over a plump child.

"Yo, boy, you look hungry. Spare five yen for a bag of roasted chestnuts?"

"Hey– move it! Don't just stand around, lemme through!"

You stop to let the irate man pass, taking pity when you see the three humongous sacks on his back. Their long fabric necks are firmly tied with rough tweed. You can guess what's inside from the way the sacks sway as their transported. A wave of nostalgia hits you.

Grunt work like this is one aspect of your childhood that you don't miss. Whenever your father was shorthanded on staff, he'd enlist you to haul freshly acquired grain from shop to shop while he guarded the horse cart, sipping at cups of randomly acquired tea. At the end of the day, you'd return home and stumble into the main hall, barely able to open your eyes while your body ached with a bone weary exhaustion.

He's learning how we did things when we were younger, your father would say when your mother gave him hell. Though she coddled you and your sister to high heavens, she was a difficult woman to deal with for others. Even your father.

You pull yourself free from the memories and emerge out of the rambunctious crowd. You've made it to the other side of the main market more or less unscathed. You hadn't seen the person you're searching for, but there is still more ground to cover, so you don't allow yourself worry. Brushing off the dust and dirt on your haori accumulated from the trek, you restart your walk.

You choose the next path to explore, this one leading behind the gigantic market area and into similar, but significantly quieter street. Though less busy, there's enough people milling about that hints at there being more to the area than meets the eye. It's not uncommon for larger towns to have multiple market districts, hole in the wall establishments that only locals might frequent.

You're proven right when you turn past a small hut with a flimsy thatched roof, and people come spilling out of a worn, cobbled footpath. You stare out at the trailing line of tiny shops and stalls crammed side by side. You squint your eyes. Near the center, you catch sight of a figure you recognize.

You let out a huff of delight, then start moving again.

You have an easier time walking here because people are crowded around the small dining areas set up outside, rather than on the road itself. You stop a distance from the supposed shop your contracted salesman owns, deciding it would be prudent to observe what he's up to. Since you haven't kept up to date with his business, it'll be good to get a general idea of how he is operating these days.

You stop beside a roadside stall selling udon, out of his line of sight. You give his shop a once over. If you're honest, it's less of a shop and more of a roadside stall. However, it looks clean and respectable, so it must work for his needs. He's always brought you a decent amount of profit, and you know he is competent, which is all you need to care about.

The last time you saw him was nearly half a year ago, when both of you had met to discuss possible expansion plans. He had brought up the idea of opening up another branch in the city, though he decided against it in the end. You aren't sure why, but you let him keep his secrets.

You count backwards from this year, surprised to note that Urai has been stationed in Kakunodate for almost two years now. It's longer than you expect from a Shonin – a travelling salesman. You decide to ask him about it later. Fpr now, your focus in on the man himself.

Urai is a bare-faced man with no particularly distinctive trait other than his caterpillar thin eyebrows. Your past memory of him matches the figure leaning lazily against the side of his stall.

His shop is devoid of customers at the moment. You feel a stab of pity, but shake it off quickly. Urai is a fairly talented salesman. It won't be long before he starts pulling them in. With a nod of certainly, you settle in and wait.

Minutes bleed by, and your conclusion proves wrong. From the time you arrived until the overhead sun reached its zenith, not a single person stopped by to check out Urai's wares.

You reach up to wipe your forehead. Your hand comes away wet. The combination of heat and the effort you had put into not going over to slam Urai with a long winded lecture is lethal. Plus, you can't feel your toes. You've dug your feet so hard into the ground that if any inspectors saw, you'd have been fined for destruction of public property.

The question stuck in your throat bobs up and down as you swallow roughly.

What in the world is he doing?

Compared to the other stalls that bustle with activity, the one belonging to your salesman is a hive of boredom. One side of the stall counter is covered in woven baskets. Half of the baskets are empty while the rest are filled with normal roadside curios like hair ties and hand-made charms.

Looking at the items, you can't blame people for their inattention. You must have passed three to four stalls selling the exact items. Compounding the problem is that it is lunch, and the stalls surrounding Urai's are selling mouth-watering fare of steamed food, fried snacks and fresh fruit. Urai is fighting a completely different war.

However, what riled you into your current state is not his lack of sales. It is that Urai has done nothing in the entire time you were observing him. He hasn't moved from his position. His back is pressed against the wooden pillar of his stall, his expression firmly neutral and closed off.

Not wearing a smile or an open, welcoming expression is a deathblow to any salesman. No one, unless desperate, would entertain a person who looked like they had gotten their teeth pulled out and forced to stand there.

You don't understand. It is not as if Urai is new to the trade. He likely knows a multitude of tactics to get at least a pair of eyes on his wares in conditions like this. You even recall him bragging in monthly reports about pulling good profits with his unusual handmade trinkets in seasons typically slow for such items.

Urai nods at a passing family whose children call out their greetings. He gives them a small wave, flashes a quick smile, then uses the same hand to cover up a burgeoning yawn. He glances around with lidded eyes, scratching his chin.

You soothe the bubbling anger in your stomach with a couple of deep breaths.

Reacting badly won't help, the rational part of your mine insists. Urai probably has a reason for his attitude.

"He could be sick. Not unreasonable, in this heat," you mutter. "I didn't see any of his special trinkets. That's good. He might have sold out already and decided to take it slow today."

After a solid minute of reasoning, you're back to your usual self. You immediately feel terrible for jumping to conclusions. You and Urai have had great working relations coming to almost four years. In fact, he's the first person who sought you out for a contract when your merchant business began to pick up.

You shake your head. Emotions can be as dangerous as beasts. Stepping away from the udon stall, you make your way towards him.

"Urai-kun," you're about to call out.

"Urai-san!" The explosive call overshadows yours, and you watch your salesman turn to face the approaching man. The owner of the voice is healthy looking and mildly plump, gussied up in dark coloured robes and has a face shadow that looks freshly trimmed. "Urai-san, I've come to deliver good news."

Urai brightens. He straightens himself to receive the newcomer with a bright smile. "Well then, no need to stand on ceremony!" He abandons his stall and meets the man with a large stride forward. "Does your good news have to do with your boss agreeing to my terms?"

"Absolutely. Congratulations, Urai-san!"

Excitement visibly radiates off Urai, his smile stretching from ear to ear.

The man beams and continues, "It'll take some time for us to draw up your new contract, though it shouldn't take more than three days. But for you to accept it, you'll have to adhere to the terms to we presented. I'm sure you remember what they are."

Urai's smile dims and he reaches up to rub the back of his neck. "I know. I'll ask for your patience on this. It will take time for the message to reach Kuroshio-kun, even if I arrange for it to be immediately sent out. I'm not sure if he'd even be at his address to receive it given how often he travels."

"I assure you that with my master's connections, it won't take long for your message to reach him. You're about to become part of our family. It is a small matter to advantage of the benefits we are offering."

"Contacting my current contractor through his rival is a little..." Though you stand meters away, you can see discomfort radiating off Urai.

The man, now identified as an underling of your mysterious competitor, shakes his head. "My master is benevolent, but not patient. This is the chance of your lifetime, Urai-san. If you aren't decisive, it will slip away. What is more important? Your future as a merchant, or maintaining your conscience over such a minor matter?"

Urai's face contorts as he struggles with the posed question. Even if you did not know him, you would be a fool to not see the gears turning in his head.

"There is no need to rile yourselves up." Both men whip their heads to look at you as you march up to them. Urai's face turns a spectacular shade of white. "I'm here, Urai-kun. Do you want to enlighten me about the matter this gentleman is discussing with you?"

You turn to the man in question, a thin-lipped smile stretching across your face. "Or perhaps you'd prefer to tell me about yourself, mister?"

You're not particularly angry. But there must be something about the way you say, because the man stiffens up as if you're holding a blade to his throat. Urai looks decidedly worse. Some colour has returned to his cheeks, but he's still paler than what is considered healthy.

"Ah," the man says. "I believe this is a private matter between the both of you. I shall allow you some privacy and come back later." He gives a short nod to your shonin. "Urai-san, I shall await the good news."

A number of eyes follow the man as he strides away with shoulders at his ears, and you think you hear a couple of sniggers. Seems like there are some nosy fellows spying on you. Not surprising given that you're practically blocking the path in such a public area.

You turn back to Urai. "Should we have our discussion elsewhere?"

"I would like that," he answers, voice quiet.

"I just arrived here, so I'm not sure where we can go." You add as an afterthought, "And I'm almost out of funds."

"No, no, it's fine. I will... hand over everything I owe you, later," Urai says lamely. "Follow me, Kuroshio-kun."

Chapter Text

You smell the medicinal herbs from a distance away. The pungent odour grows stronger the closer you get. It takes you a number of controlled breaths to get used to it. You also may or may not have used the Corps' breathing technique to keep from choking, out of politeness.

The source of the smell turns out to be a quaint, medium sized establishment somewhere near the main market. When Urai urges you inside, you see two servers, one male and one female. They call out their greetings the moment you walk in.

The woman is closest to the entrance, and because you enter before Urai, you witness her eyes light up like fireflies in the night when she casts a glance over your shoulder.

"Kuonji-kun," she says. You recognize that look.

"Masai-chan," Urai replies in a similarly sweet voice. You blink and step aside. He wears the softest expression you've ever seen. They take two steps toward each other, and you expect them to embrace.

Unexpectedly, the woman catches herself. She shakes her head, a firm smile stretching her lips. Urai's face sours as she retreats, but he seems to comply with her decision.

The woman known as Masai turns to you, giving an apologetic nod. "Let me show you to a table, sir."

"Can I get a quiet spot?" Yours is a bit of an redundant question. The shop is so empty you could lay down in the middle of it and take a nap without being disturbed. Still, better to ask than assume.

"Of course," Masai says, leading you deep into the shop. When both of you have seated yourselves at a large round table, Urai catches her attention with a wave of his hand.

"I'll have my usual," Urai tells her. "What would you like, Kuroshio-kun?"

You stop Masai before she can bring out a menu. "I will leave it to you."

Urai nods. "Alright, then. You can get the same for him, Masai-chan." His eyes remain glued to her as she walks away, right up to the moment she disappears through a door behind the counter.

He reluctantly drags his gaze back to you. "So..." he clears his throat.

You tap the surface of the table. It is needlessly polished, and your nail leaves a thin graze across the dark grain. When you look up again, you lock gazes with Urai.

"I won't mince words. Other than money, I can't think of another reason you would break the contract between us." At his wince, you continue, "Have I treated you unfairly throughout these years? Have I done something to make you wish to no longer work for me?"

"I know you are angry, Kuroshio-kun," Urai sighs, long and tired. "But please, hear me out."

"Rather than anger, I'm simply..." You don't finish the sentence. Admitting that you were hurt by that exchange you witnessed seems too dramatic. "I never expected you to want to break our contract. We've worked with each other for so long, and to sever this relationship over a no name competitor is..."

"If you were any other merchant, you would be scheming on how to end my career. That we're still able to talk amicably like this affirms me that you're still one of the finest merchants I have met." Urai has an oddly reminiscent look on his face.

"Then why?" you ask.

"Your orders," the woman interrupts. She wears an awkward smile as she places the bowls and cups of hot tea on the table. Her eyes flick to Urai for a split second before she backs off, returning her post near the shop's entrance.

You look inside the bowl and balk. Your question is forgotten in the face of the strange concoction before you. "Urai-kun... what in the world is this?"

It's impossible not to notice strong herbal scents swirling around you. When you had caught a whiff of it earlier, you'd known to expect something unique and different. However, it hadn't prepared you for this.

Inside the bowl is a mish mash of herbs and vegetables dyed in colours from the entire spectrum. Green, black, purple, orange, brown, every conceivable colour you can think of is present, and there is not the slightest hint of meat.

"This is the shop's specialty. A detox nature set containing purple turmeric, wild flowers, black carrot pickles–" Urai details the rest of the ingredients without you prompting. By the time he's done, your head is throbbing from the sheer amount of information he'd levelled at you. "Though it looks strange, I can assure you of it's taste," Urai finishes.

You haven't eaten since last night and half a day of constant travel has made you peckish. You stare at the bowl as you curse out your Kasugai crow. If you hadn't been soft-hearted, you wouldn't currently be entertaining the notion of eating this miniature garden.

Eventually, you fork a tentative bite into your mouth. Your gut pulls at the smell, but you power through. You chew on the vegetables in small, timid bites.

"How is it?" Urai asks.

You stare blankly at the bowl. "It's got an... interesting taste."

Disappointment flits across Urai's face. He shrugs, then starts shovelling his own food into his mouth. You stare for a little before starting on yours. How can he take that bites in such quick succession? One is enough to make your brain confused from all the signals your mouth is sending.

You chip away at the food, managing to eat a third of it before Urai speaks up again.

"Kuroshio-kun, I know it's obvious this shop isn't popular." He fiddles with his fork. "They moved here from another prefecture last year, and while their food isn't bad, the taste has proven too unique for Kakunodate's locals. At the rate they're going, this place is going to go out of business. So, I made a suggestion to the owners to relocate again, this time to Tokyo."

After thinking about it, you admit the proposal makes sense. As the capital of the country, Tokyo has become increasingly exposed to overseas trends. You've only been there once in your lifetime, but your visit has carved itself you're your memory. It isn't strange to assume a unique shop like this would flourish there.

There's just one thing you do not understand, and you decide to voice it. "Urai-kun, what has it got to do with you?"

Urai's carefree smiles makes him look ten years younger. "Everything, because I'll be marrying their daughter come next year. Their only son is a doctor, so she'll be the one to inherit their business."

"So the fate of this shop is tied to yours." Suddenly, Urai's dogged pursuit of a better contract makes sense. "You probably have everything planned out by now, so what's stopping you must be a lack of funds."

Urai smiles wryly. "Sharp as ever. Yes, we'll need an obscene amount in order to make the shift to Tokyo. And that's not even considering living expenses, finding a new home, and so on. Everything will cost more money than I'm capable of earning, or that the banks are willing to loan me."

"And money than I could offer you, I suppose."

Urai rubs his face. "Forgive me. I did not mean to hurt you. If the conditions I'd given your competitor had not gotten approved, I would have tried to find another way."

"Did you not consider working under both of us?"

Urai smiles grimly. "In the contract I was offered, one of the terms was that I only be contracted to them. I tried to argue against it, but they refused to budge. Kuroshio-kun, it's not that I do not wish to continue working for you. It's just... my hands are well and truly tied."

Silence permeates the air once the crux of the issue reveals itself. You gnaw on your spoon, digesting his words and the strange meal you've steadily scarfed down. Your brows knit as you consider every possible solution.

Eventually, though, you have to admit despite being more wealthy than majority of the population, you are still one terrible business decision away from having it ripped from your hands. Without a family capable of financing any reckless decisions, or a nest egg large enough to completely subsidize Urai without heavy risk, you are out of manoeuvres to pull.

You sip at your cold tea, a chill spreading throughout your chest. "Will you..." You release a heavy sigh. "Will you need the original contract or some kind of official document from the guild to prove your departure?"

"Just a written statement would be enough," Urai says, his taut shoulders immediately going slack.

You give a slow nod, thinking about your merchant's seal in your field pack. "That won't be a problem." For the first time, you regret being prepared. "All I'll need is some brush and ink."

"I'll go get them." Urai leaves his seat and walks behind the counter of the shop. Within seconds, he has disappeared through the same door the woman had gone through.

You massage your temples, wondering how things had turned out this way. You'll now have to deal with losing a source of income. It's not a huge problem since you can establish another when you find the time, but losing Urai is a painful blow. You used to think money couldn't buy loyal talents but apparently...

"To think someone had an eye on him. It's my mistake for not keeping a lookout, but who the hell...?"

Is your competitor from Kakunodate? It's a feasible theory if you consider how big this town is. They could have taken note of Urai during his stay and decided to take him for themselves. Still, for them to completely subsidize Urai's impending venture without additional terms of service simply smacks of the other party being as wealthy as a royal.

You rub your hands together, your entire body enveloped in a sudden chill. Your demon slaying mission will help you get your mind of things, at least. There's no better stress relief than carving a bloodthirsty demon's head off their necks.

If they're hiding somewhere in Kakunodate, taking it out would mean Urai and his in-laws might be spared from any unhappy accidents.

You chuckle. "Well, at least I got a free meal out of this."

"Kuroshio-san." You look up from the table and come face to face with Masai, Urai's soon to be wife. "I want you to have this." With a painful and cautious tenderness, Masai places an old tome in the empty space on the table before you.

Before you can react, Masai gets on her knees. She folds herself into a deep bow and says. "Kuroshio-san, please don't hold it against Kuonji-kun. He did what he did for the sake of my family. If he wasn't under such pressure, he wouldn't even have considered betraying you. He truly respects you from the bottom of his heart."

"Masai-chan!" Urai's voice shocks you out of your stupor. You blink at the sight of a frightened Urai pulling the woman to her feet. "Quickly, get up!"

"Kuonji-kun, I think he deserves this much of an effort."

Urai's body trembles with anxiety. The expression he wears is one that can break a lesser man's heart. "You can't put–" His hand hovers over her belly. "You're not supposed to strain yourself. You shouldn't even be working in your current state!" Urai's eye catches on the tome. "That over there. Isn't it your family's heirloom?"

"That's my apology to him," Masai says.

"You don't need to sacrifice something so precious. My actions should be endured by me alone. There's no need to repay Kuroshio-san like this!"

"I agree," you speak up as tension begins to swirl in the air. "Masai-san, I can't accept this if it's as precious as Urai-kun says."

"This book contains everything past generations of my family studied and learned from the gifts of nature. Everyone in my family has memorized the knowledge it contains, so giving it away will not affect us."

"If he sells it and uses it to start another business, that'll be an entirely different story!" Urai exclaims. "I know the shop's recipes were derived from some of the things written in that book. What's going to happen if he puts them to use?"

"More people will be able to reap the rewards of our Shizen family's efforts." Masai glances at the frenzied Urai. "Kuonji-kun, you sacrificed so much for me. I should be able to do the same."

The couple stare each other down. You watch them silently. It's no wonder Urai is smitten with her. It is rare that you've ever seen a woman match Urai's silver tongue, and her actions prove she's a capable partner as well. You try not to think about Shinobu, and how Masai reminds you of her.

Eventually, Urai breaks first. He turns you to you with a pleading expression.

"...Kuroshio-kun," he starts.

You hold your hand up. "Urai-kun, though we'll no longer be working together, you should know me well enough. Selling the secrets in this book to get back at you isn't something I'd do." You give him a look to convey your dissatisfaction. "I wish you placed more trust in me."

"It's not a matter of trust." Urai rubs at his face. "Treachery can turn people unrecognizable, Kuroshio-kun."

If you weren't a Demon Slayer, you might have lost yourself to anger. Urai wouldn't have blamed you even if you reacted poorly. But one of the things you learned as a Slayer is that innocents and sinners alike are simply humans. Both would be cut down if they found themselves on a demon's path.

It's fine to be a selfish, but for a person you consider a friend, you want to be better.

You give Urai a half-smile. "I would like to think I'm not most people."

When the papers have been written and stamped, you decide it is time to excuse yourself. Whether it's due to the closing of this matter or the meal you ingested, but you feel a renewed sense of energy.

Urai filling you in on the latest news about the town has also slightly relieved the weight on your shoulders. Knowing you obtained info from a trusted source means you can place less faith in Wareta, a complete stranger.

Urai sees you out of the shop after making sure you've kept Masai's family heirloom in your haversack. He had hovered around you as you packed it away, slightly unwilling to part with his beloved's treasure. A single look from Masai finally made him resigned to the change in the heirloom's ownership.

If you weren't pressed to continue your mission, you would have indulged your curiosity the moment the tome landed in your hands.

What secrets reside inside it? It is a question you will answer at a later date.

It hasn't been long since you arrived, but the sun has sunk from its perch more than you'd expected. Urai notices the direction of your gaze and says, "There are several inns in the merchant's district. If I remember correctly, there should also be a private bank nearby."

You pat your haori's pocket. "I look forward to collecting the last of the profits owed to me. At the very least, I won't leave this town empty handed." Urai shifts uncomfortably, and you chuckle. "It was a joke, Urai-kun. I'm actually here on other business."

"Right," Urai says.

"You have my thanks for pointing out which rumours were baseless. You've saved me quite a bit of time."

"It wasn't a big deal. It's part of my duty to keep track of such things." Urai lowers his voice and says, "Remember Kuroshio-kun. You shouldn't place too much trust in Wareta-san. He's not as stable as he seems. For a man who was known to love his wife with every fibre of his being, he bounced back unusually quickly after she died."

You think back to the younger guard, Kase, who had said something similar. You can no longer pass this off as a coincidence.

You nod at Urai and firmly clasp his shoulder. "I appreciate the warning. For this, and revealing who decided to steal you from me." Urai flushes darkly with embarrassment. You're not magnanimous enough to pass the chance to get in a few parting jabs, but Urai's tense expression makes you regret it somewhat. "That was a–"

"Joke. I'm well aware." Urai rolls his eyes. "Forget it, I deserve this much. Goodbye, Kuroshio-kun. If luck will have us meet again, then it will be your turn to treat me to a meal."

"Ah, before that." You stop Urai when he's halfway through the entrance of the shop. "Take this as a word of advice from an old friend. Fulfilling the wishes of your partner is commendable, but take care not to go too far. If you step on the wrong toes, what awaits you on the end of that path will not be pretty."

Urai's gaze remains unmoved despite catching your double meaning. "I appreciate it, but that won't happen to us."

You find yourself at a loss for words. The man before you is unrecognizable from the shrewd, cynical merchant from your past.

You close your mouth, then open it again. "Love makes fools out of us. Just something to keep in mind." You give a bow and swiftly depart.

Following the weathered signposts, you travel back through the main market. The crowd has thinned considerably, making it easy to tread the paved street. There's no longer a need to swerve around harried workers or excitable kids. The stroll would have been relaxing if your head weren't full of thoughts.

The air buzzes with noise, but it doesn't penetrate your mind, still reeling from what Urai told you. You now know the identity and background of the man who'd talked to Urai earlier, the one working under the person who poached Urai from under your nose.

Two months ago, that very man approached him under the guise of establishing a trade deal. Urai claims to have sent you a letter about it, which is probably sitting untouched in the pile somewhere in your room.

Talks had gone on for several days, but since nothing could be reached without your input, Urai simply kept a stalemate whilst continuing communications. Going by the timeline, Urai said he had received his first offer to break his contract with you on the day you departed from Butterfly Mansion.

He had rejected it, but as you were en route to Kakunodate, Urai had gotten continually pelted with offers, each with better benefits than the last, until finally...

Your eyebrows knit together. A scowl crosses your face as you recall what Urai told you after you had signed the papers:

"The master of the Wisteria house is looking for trustworthy and capable men like yourself to aid in his business ventures. To secure your loyalty, he is willing let you name your price. For that, he has to know. What do you desire that your current master cannot give?"

You grit your teeth. What honour? What status? Fuji is a more a bandit than the honourable man he claims to be. For the simple talking down you gave him, he wants to covet the other precious things you spent tears, blood and sweat cultivating?

This is the man you assumed would take care of Shinobu?

Thinking it sends an indescribable rage surging through your body, and the swell of emotion burrows into your bones like a cancerous parasite. For the first time since leaving the estate, your mind is clear.

Your decision had been too hasty. It is not just Shinobu, no other person should have to accompany that rogue for one day, let alone for the rest of their life.

You make a silent vow to pen a reply to Aoi when the day is over, suddenly thankful Fuji has been slow to make his move. It doesn't matter if you don't end up with Shinobu, but you can't let her suffer with that incorrigible cur.

You glare up at the gilded roofs of the buildings in the merchant's district as they come into view. Grasping your newfound desire to finish this mission as quickly as possible, you charge into the district.

You're going to dig out the location of the hidden demon and return to the estate as swiftly as time allows, even if you have to crawl back to do it.

Shinobu deserves a heartfelt apology. You just hope she hasn't completely written you off as the bastard who threw her to that bastard dog. Even if you had good intentions, they were severely misguided and didn't consider her own input at all. You nearly threw her into pit of lifetime suffering because of your insecurities.

You laid this path to hell yourself. You don't think she'll forgive you, and you don't expect her to. But you have to try. 

Chapter Text

Aoi never thought herself particularly brave. Lacking this trait was point of soreness, endlessly needled through snide remarks from people within the Corps. Eventually, though, she grew had to acknowledge it had its upsides.

As the sole survivor of the Kanzaki family, Aoi knew everything had its price.

For her, the cowardly choice of refusing to pick up the sword had brought a tremendous benefit.

These days, those who had turned their noses up at her were either recovering from mortal injuries or rotting in unmarked graves. Meanwhile, she lived. Not splendidly nor pleasantly, but she had a home, played a role in the corps and had wonderful companions. It was already much better than common folk hoped to even ask for, especially in these hard times.

A wrecked self-esteem and perpetually stained reputation was inexpensive for not becoming demon fodder.

Her sisters, as Aoi had come to think of the girls she lived with, would gently rebuke her whenever she mentioned herself a coward. While Aoi was touched by their sentiments, it was clear they didn't understand where she was coming from.

If she hadn't been a coward, how would she still be alive?

In this entire world, perhaps only Shinobu truly understood her. As an esteemed Pillar, her older sister didn't needed to care if a pitiful existence like hers lived or died. However, instead of watching dispassionately as Aoi was cast out of the Corps for turning down the Nichirin Blades, Shinobu had inducted her as her personal aide and allowed her to live in the Butterfly Mansion.

Shinobu hadn't sneered or laughed or despised Aoi for her choice, but sheltered and cared for her. Aoi knew people aware of Shinobu's past thought she did so out of pity. It wasn't an absurd assumption, Aoi's tragic childhood really did mirrored hers.

Aoi couldn't care less, because it didn't change the fact that Shinobu had gone out of the way to protect someone who held the opposite of her values. In this wretched world where living was like balancing on a knife's edge, Aoi greatly admired her for her actions.

The moment she stepped into Butterfly Mansion, Aoi swore to the buddha to strike her down if she ever harboured a thought of turning against Shinobu. Aoi would never complain about her tasks, even if she was instructed to wade through a river of poison.

Aoi stared helplessly at the wooden door. She wouldn't need to resort to such sneaky measures if the two stubborn bulls came to a ceasefire by themselves. Alas, things were much harder when they were separated by leagues of land.

O buddha, this shouldn't count as betrayal. I promise what I'm doing will help nee-san.

When no lightning strikes made themselves known, Aoi breathed deeply to soothe the worries in her chest. This wasn't the first time she did something like this, but she still needed to soothe her guilt.

Doing one final check to ensure she wouldn't accidentally crush the letter if her emotions ran high, Aoi slid the door open and barged into the laboratory.

"Aoi." A clack sounded when Shinobu set down the brush she'd been holding. "What did I tell you about knocking?"

When Shinobu caught sight of the papers Aoi was holding, irritation flashed across her face. Her tolerant and inviting expression turned cold in an instant.

Aoi broke out in cold sweat. That expression brought to mind the times her older sister would harshly reprimand her for unforgivable mistakes. Occasions like that were rare, but they had left permanent marks on her psyche.

As long as she doesn't tell you to go away, you have a chance. Aoi, fighting!

Aoi shoved her fear aside and unleashed the words she'd prepared. "Nee-san, I'm sorry to disturb you. But if I don't mention it now, I'll end up forgetting, and this is too important to let that happen."

Shinobu opened her mouth, no doubt to reprimand her. Aoi immediately held up the folded parchment, pinched between her thumb and index finger. The circular piece of wax dangled enticingly at the bottom. Aoi wriggled the letter for good measure, and as she had hoped, Shinobu stayed silent.

The use of wax seals was already rare, and there was only one person in the mansion who regularly made use of them. Plus, having lived them for more than two months, everyone easily recognized who that emblem stamped onto the wax belonged to.

Two short wavy lines, stacked on top of each other, symbolized waves. The pair of them were slanted toward each other. Whenever she saw it, Aoi would be reminded of the slit eyes of a fierce dragon.

"Too important, you say?"

Seeing Shinobu's mood turn introspective, Aoi skipped past the pedantic greetings and dived straight into reading out main content of the letter.

"Aoi, I do not know if I've mentioned this. If I haven't, then you must know –I appreciate you taking the time to write me. Travelling alone is enlightening and peaceful, but when you see nothing but animals all day, a person can't help but crave interactions with someone familiar. If I didn't sit down to write this, I'd probably be bored enough to sing to passing stalks of wheat."

Aoi peeked over the letter. Though Shinobu put up a distant expression, her lips were quirked.

Aoi cheered inwardly and continued, "Fortunately, I had the foresight to bring my other tools with me. Whenever I stop to rest, I have something to do other than pestering my other companion. I hope you will enjoy my drawings, amateurish though they might be."

Seeing Shinobu's eyes narrow in interest, Aoi paused for a touch of dramatism. Then, she read out the final line of the paragraph, "That is, if the letter is safely delivered. It rains frequently where I am. My messenger might have some of its owners bad luck."

Shinobu straightened. "The drawings were ruined?"

"Nope! Ryuu's drawings arrived safely. Look, I have them here." Aoi walked up, cautiously placing them on the desk. At the top of the pile rested the most delicately rendered drawing Aoi had ever seen. Shinobu leaned forward to inspect them.

Shinobu eyed the pieces of rough canvas like they would abruptly explode into flames. "Hm."

When seconds passed, and Shinobu had made no move to take a closer look, Aoi grew restless. Unable to endure the silence, she said, "Nee-san, should I continue? Or would you like to read the rest of Ryuu's letter yourself...?"

Shinobu lifted her head, looking straight at her. Aoi shrank back at the knitted frown on her older sister's face.

"Do you know what flower this is?" Shinobu asked, suddenly.

"U-Um. No?" Shinobu sighed. Her expression turned complicated as her gaze falling onto the drawing once again.

When Aoi realized her mistake, she silently cursed herself. It had seemed like a good idea to remind about her affection for Ryuu, so she'd purposely put that drawing at the top of the stack. But what Aoi had forgotten was this: when someone wished to forget something, the worst thing you could do was purposely remind them of it.

Aoi stayed silent, praying she hadn't ruined everything.

"Did Ry– Kuroshio-san mention anything relating to the mission?" Shinobu eventually asked.

"Not really." Aoi nearly bent over in relief and scrambled to follow up, "Ah, but he does talk about what he plans to do when he arrives at the mission location."

Saying this, Aoi inched towards Shinobu's desk, piled high with documents, research and ancient looking books. Aoi dangled the letter enticingly before her older sister.

Shinobu sighed. "Fine, leave the letter here. Remember to come back for it later. I'm sure Naho and the girls are also eager to read about his travels."

Aoi nodded, trying to contain her delight. Thank goodness. Everything had gone even better than she could have predicted. Unlike the previous times she did this, Shinobu hadn't stopped her midway and chased her out.

"Of course, nee-san. I'll return once I've finished my chores."

Giving her a flat or perhaps resigned stare, Shinobu gave her a nod of acknowledgement. Turning on her heels, Aoi fled the room before her older sister could change her mind.

Once outside, Aoi immediately stepped out of the house to bask in the gentle sunshine. The trimmed carpet of grass rustled in the breeze, the clothes she'd hung out to try whipping about. Ryuu's crow was perched on the top of a pole, cleaning itself.

"AOI!" The bird cawed when it noticed her. "DELI-VERED?"

Aoi recalled the look on her older sister's face. Grinning, she pumped her fist and gave the crow a thumbs up. "Delivered!"

The laughter of bird and human mingled together in the peaceful atmosphere of this warm and sunny day. Sitting under the shade in the nearby courtyard, Kanao frowned at the awful, grating noise.

What in the world was her older sister doing...?

"AOI! A-OI!"

Aoi jerked up at the sound. When the flapping noise grew louder, she quickly tossed the clothes she'd been washing onto flat stone nearby, then clumsily wiped her hands on her skirt. Her aggressive motions continued until she was certain they were bone dry.

The Kasugai Crow swooped down in a negative arc, jet black wings buffed by wind. "LET-TER, LETTER FROM RY-UU!"

"He sent another reply already?" Aoi suppressed her excitement and extended her hand. The crow landed on her arm, its talons exerting a faint pressure on her skin. Similar to the man she'd come to view as an older sibling, his messenger was remarkably gentle when it dealt with her.

The crow flapped its wings and preened under her awed stare. Once she removed the bamboo tube strapped below its belly, it took off to roost on the branch of a nearby tree. The shade she stood in swayed violently. Pelted by falling leaves, Aoi winced.

"DELIVERED!" Ryuu's messenger cawed. "DELI-VERED TO A-OI!"

Aoi couldn't help but laugh. "So noisy!"

Out of everyone in the mansion, it was only her name this gluttonous rascal remembered. The reason for its fondness of her was obvious, but in this world, those fond of her could be counted with one hand. As such, Aoi had no disagreement with being flattered like this.

"I don't have any food on me at the moment," Aoi said when she noticed the crow staring intensely at her. She dipped her head apologetically. "I'll feed you once I'm finished here, okay?"

The bird was silent. Then with a resigned caw, it shot back into the sky. Aoi stared after it until it soared over the treeline.

"...Ryuu, I think your bird is only loyal to its stomach."

It had flown in the direction of the mansion. Kiyo was on garden duty, and the bird would probably cosy up to her sister once it spotted her.

Aoi returned her attention to the tube in her hands. She uncapped it, storing the rubber disc in her apron pocket. She slanted the tube like pouring water from a vase. When the letter refused to leave its nest, she tapped it twice against her open palm. The rolled up parchment slid guilelessly into her waiting hands.

At the sight of the teal wax seal, Aoi broke out in a beaming smile. A new reply after just four days! Ryuu had likely arrived at... Kakudo? No, Kakunodate, by now. She broke the seal and unfurled the letter. The tiny flicker of hope she held for Ryuu's swift homecoming was dashed when she glimpsed the first line:

'I am beginning to wonder if this mission is more than I can handle.'

The message tube tucked under her arm dug painfully in Aoi's sides. She continued to read, her hands gripping the letter hard enough to crumple the parchment. By the time she was finished, it was through sheer force of will that she hadn't torn the letter in half.

Aoi stepped out of the shade and into the sun, desperately soaking up the warmth to comfort her frazzled nerves.

"Being a slayer is really..."

Aoi hadn't given much thought about Ryuu's mission. After reading about his troubles, she couldn't help but wonder why she hadn't felt more afraid for him.

Based on the conversations she'd had with the few humble Slayers who came for treatment, emergency missions were usually regarded as a test of one's current calibre. Now that she was on the subject, she recalled how Shinobu once described such missions as being 'more specialized, making use of an individual's talent and other skills, rather than focusing on combat'.

The wheels in Aoi's mind spun rapidly. Based on what Ryuu had described in his letter, it felt as if he'd been infiltrating places not normally open to the battle oriented Slayers. The reason Ryuu had begun living at the Butterfly Mansion was due to his merchant background, so perhaps...

Either way, if a Tsuchinoto had to deal with missions with this kind of difficulty, then what about Shinobu and Kanao?

Aoi found her admiration for her younger and older sister rising several notches. Aoi knew that they had overcome obstacles she couldn't begin to comprehend, but comparison made it easier to put things into perspective.

Aoi folded the letter, her pleasant mood all but evaporated. When was he going to come back? Worse, what if he didn't? Aoi immediately banished the thought.

"Ryuu... please come back safe."

Aoi grasped the folded parchment in one hand, the other reaching for the message tube. There came a sudden gust – the strength of which made her pigtails flap madly about the sides of her head. Annoyed, she shielded her eyes from the chilling wind.

"What is with– ah! No, come back!" Aoi chased the letter which swept out of her grip by the strong gusts. It sailed overhead, carried higher and higher. "Wait! Wait, stoooop!"

Aoi stopped at the edge of the streambank, rapidly gushing water stopping her rabid determination in her tracks. When she had regained her senses and looked up in search of the letter, no trace of the letter could be found.

Aoi shifted her gaze to the stream. At the sight of the parchment, bobbing up and down as it was carried by the rushing water, she nearly pulled her hair out in distress.

Aoi stomped her feet and cursed, but she could only watch remorsefully as the letter drifted further and further away.

Chapter Text

On the dawning of your sixth day in Kakunodate, you awaken inside the room of one of the town's premier, yet surprisingly affordable inns. This particular one boasts a long history, heavily favoured by scholars and merchants during the shogunates' rein. Once you had entered the room, you instantly understood the reason for the inn's continued popularity despite Kakunodate's glory days being long past.

You've never encountered a room like this, impeccably clean and outfitted with tasteful furnishings. Furthermore, it came equipped with a desk and chair. After a quick check, you were also delighted to discover that walls here were thick. Shutting the windows easily sealed the room in a vacuum of silence.

True to Urai's word, there was also a private bank just a sprint down the street, surrounded by mid to upper class homes. The presence of shops and merchant guilds nearby made the area equally as the market in the previous district. This location couldn't have been more perfect.

Letting out a yawn, you raise your hands above your head and give your back a long and painful stretch. You rub your face, feeling the indented lines in your skin. The dark red marks are testament to your falling asleep at the desk last night.

Blinking the sleep from your eyes, you reach for the window. A single push throws the shutters wide open. Sunlight floods the room and fills it with warmth. A kindling breeze slips in and tickles your face, carrying with it the noisy bustle of a fresh morning.

The mood of the merchant district is energetic. It's been this way ever you've taken up board in the inn. You remember being drunk on the atmosphere during your search for clues on possible demon sightings, ecstatically fluttering from shop to shop, mingling with local merchants and neighbourly inhabitants.

Today, any sort of cheer eludes you. You're feel like the person who's lost their entire family fortune to a risky business decision.

You stare down at the messy pile of scrap paper you'd flattened in your sleep. These papers contain every bit of info, truthful or otherwise, from everyone you've met over the entire course of these five days. The people here aren't overly friendly, but most are genuine and easy to get along with. Once you had successfully ingratiated yourself with them, their words flowed unhindered like the evening tide.

With this much information at your fingertips, how is it that you've yet to find clues on the whereabouts of the elusive demon you've been ordered to slay?

You pluck the wrinkled paper from the top of the flattened pile. Sunlight prickling your skin, your body traps warmth as you settle down to read. However, after rereading, you discover that even a full night's rest brings about no new insights.

"This is ridiculous. How can a town be this peaceful?"

The general consensus among the townsfolk is that things have been business as usual. Kakunodate has yet to see any major incidents this past year. You pick at your stubble in agitation. None of your theories, based off of the information you've gathered, hold water. There are no signs of any demons lurking in the shadows.

So far, the sole issue that sticks out is the mystery of the dwindling visitors. The answers you received on this subject wildly varied, so much that you can't even begin to root out the true cause.

Residents blame rivalling towns. Merchants and businesses attribute it to the rise of bandits in surrounding areas, plus the slew of newly established trade guilds in major cities, which had caused a ripple effect in bringing down the prices of goods throughout the country.

The latter news you have heard about, but this is your first time witnessing a place so impacted by the changes. That seems to be the most probable cause for the lack of visitors. No person would waste upwards of a month travelling to remote towns for slight discounts on goods if they could get what they wanted within a day for a couple of more yen.

You slam the paper on the desk. "Do I have to grill that man for answers after all?"

The strangest thing about the entire situation is that not a single person has mentioned shogunate loyalists. When you brought up the subject, everyone would only offer blank and confused looks in return. It was only that guard, what was his name... Wareta? – who had hinted loyalists or rebels had had something to do with the pathetic visitor counts.

After everything you've learned so far, you're pretty sure low foot traffic has nothing to do with a single party or demon. But if that's the case, it just means you've spent the better part of your time chasing shadows...

"This mission," you mutter darkly. "Can go screw itself."

Your crow had given you exactly zero details on the matter, and unfortunately, no one can be blamed. It's already unfathomably difficult for informants to slog through mountains of false rumours and useless hearsay in their search for demons. Rarely do Slayers know what to expect other than knowing where they should go.

You don't notice the sun blotted out until you look up to see an elongated shadow falling over you. Your Kasugai Crow barely misses the top of your head as it swoops through the window. You glare at it over your shoulder, watching as it perches grandly on your bedpost.

"RY-UU," it screeches. "LETTER DELI-VERD!" The bird follows this up with a grating caw.

"Shhh!" Thank goodness for thick walls. You don't think the inn allows animals. Demon Slayers are not exempt from all laws, contrary to what some comrades think. "Don't get me thrown out, you hear?" You release a grateful puff of breath when your messenger flicks its head back and forth. "I've troubled you. It's good that you have safely returned."

Your Kasugai Crow flaps its wings, its haughty manner almost mocking you for thinking otherwise. You're not surprised to find it in a good mood. It has probably eaten triple its weight in food thanks to Aoi.

You find yourself slightly jealous. You miss the food, company, and the ability to take random books from the Corps' outrageously huge library. It must be amazing to have the ability to cross great distances in less than a third of time you take to travel on foot. If you had the ability of flight, you'd have chose to fly back this instant. The urge is especially strong now that your mission has stalled.

You sigh. The longer grievances are allowed to simmer, the harder they become to forgive. It has been slightly over a month since that awful fight, and Shinobu must be...

You catch yourself before you can give into pessimism. "Forget it. It's useless to think about that. Or maybe... I should write her a letter? I don't know how long I'll be stuck here, so it'll be good if–" You hastily scrap that idea, muttering, "No, no, that's too insincere. It might just make things worse."

Matter of fact, there's also no guarantee Shinobu would read it. You rub at your face, disappointed. Similar to this mission, everything you have come up with seems utterly pointless.

You glance over at your crow, suddenly recalling what you bidden it to do. "Right, do you have a reply for me?"

Aoi's letter is grasped tightly in your sweaty hands after a short battle for the message tube. You fling the ruffled crow an distasteful glare. You can't believe it demanded a treat before letting you get anywhere near the tube. It's getting seriously getting spoilt.

"I'll write to Aoi to stop feeding you if you try something like that again." Your warning goes unheeded as the crow returns to its perch, fluffing up its feathers and settling in to roost. Ah, forget it. You should have known this bird was a lost cause from the moment it met you.

You turn over expensive parchment in your hands. There in dark bold lettering are Aoi's initials. You toy with the string wrapped rolled tightly around it. As you make to undo it, your stomach lets out a ghoulish growl.

You pause. Your mood is still a little too black to enjoy whatever Aoi would have written. After thinking about it, you decide to put off the reading for later. It might be better to read on a full stomach.

And who knows? A good meal might lend some new insight into your troubles.

You settle for a roadside stall selling udon and fishcake skewers. It sits directly opposite of the private bank, demurely positioned near the outer mouth of a alley. Judging how every rickety table and chair within the area is occupied, this seems like a fantastic spot for business. 

You snag a freshly vacated table farthest from the main stall. You turn your chair in a different direction to avoid the glare from a man who'd been eying the same spot. Your back is turned to the alley, and you check over your shoulder. When it's clear no strange creature is hidden in the musty darkness, waiting to jump you the moment your back is turned, you flag down the waiter boy.

You end up ordering a large bowl of plain udon and four entire skewers of fishcakes to go along. The money Urai returned you was a hefty sum, you could eat like a king for months if you wanted. After surviving on less during your journey, forced to eat frugally due to lack of funds, this isn't so much wasting money as it is making up for lost time.

Looking at the waiter boy's stick thin figure, you tip him with whatever pocket change you have left. Your action spurs him into grinning widely. His mouth remains stuck in that shape even when he scampers off to fulfil your order.

When your meal arrives sooner than expected, you only need glance at the waiter boy, who shoots you a playful wink, to know he must have something to do with it. You nod in thanks, shooting him a grin, before concentrating on your meal.

The bowl of udon gives off sheets of steam. Just looking at it makes sweat gather on your brow. Though the sun won't reach its zenith anytime soon, you still make the decision to take off your haori. You don't want to roast in your clothes for the sake of concealing the eye catching words on the back of your uniform.

Seriously, this uniform might as well be signalling government agents to arrest you on sight.

Once you've shed your outerwear, you start nibbling on a skewer of assorted fishcakes. One of your hands grazes your stomach. You have probably put on a fair bit of weight this past week.

Missions regularly wreck your eating habits since you tend to stuff yourself with two meals in one sitting. It's not necessary, of course, but better to err to the side of caution. Demons won't give lunch breaks if they catch Slayers low on fuel.

As you chomp on the udon, their chewiness bordering on jaw breaking, you bite off a piece of the hilariously over salted fishcakes. Their combined taste nearly makes you want to shed a tear. The spark of jealousy toward your Kasugai Crow erupts into a burning wildfire. Seriously, it's so unfair how that bird gets to eat fantastic home cooked meals while you're stuck with roadside fare...

"Hey, boy, fancy meeting you here!"

The shout pummels into your left eardrum. You are momentarily dazed, and your half half-eaten fishcake slips from your chopsticks to land on the ground, limp and silent.

You stare at it gravely. You set down your chopsticks and grip the hilt of your sword. All it would take is a single slash and you would have your revenge.

In the end, you forcefully uncrimp your fingers and peel them off the sword handle. Much as you desire to commit murder, it wouldn't set a good example if the news reaches the ears of the children of the Butterfly Estate.

"Hmm? Did you forget who I am, Kuroshio-san?" The man who's just barely averted a crisis cheerily repaints the target on his forehead. Fortunately for him, you've already reined in your temper.

When you finally look up at the face of the person who's ruined your breakfast, you barely restrain from groaning.

"Wareta-san, this is a pleasant surprise." Your tone is politely stiff, just only managing to mask your exasperation. "Shouldn't you be on duty? What brings you here?"

"Ah, so you do remember me after all. For a moment, I was worried I might have embarrassed myself," Wareta says. "I spotted you when I was patrolling 'round the area and thought I ought to come greet you." At your nod, he lets out a unrestrained roar of laughter. "But I didn't think you'd go stiff from shock after seeing me!"

Wareta stands beside your table, his back facing the alley. Did he come from that direction? He mentioned being on patrol. Shady hiding places like those probably warrants a thorough search, even in daylight.

His appearance hasn't changed much from the first time you met him. He remains dressed in the feudal uniform of Kakunodate's guardsmen with a katana hanging from his hip. Unlike the figure of intimidation he represented when you first met him at the gate, anyone who laid eyes upon him at present would find themselves imbued with irrepressible sense of security.

You feel exactly the opposite. Seeing him makes you recall your failure, of leads to running into dead ends. Your mood blackens despite you managing to keep the appropriately friendly smile plastered on your face.

"I was shocked, because I was just thinking about having a nice drink tonight, and then there you were. If only I had this kind of luck regarding other, more important matters."

"Kuroshio-san, when you get to my age, you'll realize she strongly favours men who find time to drink and make merry."

Wareta's reply is completely at odds with the serious set to his mouth and his complete conviction in his words. Your smile grows slightly genuine at the older man's amicable manner, but a thought pops into your head that rebuilds the wall that he'd been steadily melting.

You and Wareta have shared conversation, but it doesn't warrant this kind of enthusiasm. A normal person wouldn't blatantly call for someone they knew no better than a stranger. You have to wonder about his motives for approaching you.

"You might be right about that," you say. "Now, look. All that talk has got me hankering for a cup of sake. Not very respectable at this time of day."

"It is what it is." Wareta's shoulders lift in a shrug to hammer the point home. "Kuroshio-san, I hope you haven't forgotten your promise to buy me a drink."

"I'm pretty sure it was the other way around. But, since I want to avoid being accused of not respecting my elders, I'll sponsor you a round at your wife's shop. I trust the alcohol there is as good as you say."

Wareta grins and smacks your shoulder. "That's a merchant for you, knowing when to cosy up to someone important!"

You eye your surroundings to confirm no one's eavesdropping on the conversation. Deciding to take a gamble, you then lean in and say, "There's obviously a need to keep you happy, Wareta-san. I still want to know more about that issue we talked about last time. I've been asking around to get a clearer picture, but it hasn't gone very well. I'm at the end of my rope."

Wareta strokes his beard, shedding his jolly demeanour like a snake would its skin. His eyes bore into you. You feel a strange sort of relief despite change in demeanour. Finally, you have confirmed the man is no simple character. If he was, how would he have reacted so swiftly? It's been nearly a week since that conversation you both shared.

You wonder if he's kept his eye on you this past week, and wonder if you should have done to same for him.

"... you're a blunt one." Wareta loses some of his aggressive air and ceases picking at his beard. "The things I mentioned that day, about the loyalists? I had hoped you'd forgotten by now. Don't blame me for being unkind, just... just take it as a slip of tongue. I'm not supposed to speak of the matter with outsiders."

You can't help but feel thoroughly amused. Such an obvious ploy to bait you. Wareta is either underestimating you or is truly the chatty middle aged man he paints himself to be. Seeing his complete one-eighty in personality, you're inclined to believe the former than the latter.

Faced with Wareta's strange behaviour, you suddenly have an inkling whatever Wareta is hiding is connected to the reason for you being sent here. Everything in this town that you've seen and experienced, nothing stands out as starkly the man before you.

The main question is... what he is doing this all for?

You mirror his actions and gently scratch your chin. "Wareta-san, do I look like the kind of person who would ask you to put yourself on the line without any compensation?" You lower your voice conspiratorially, "The information you have is invaluable to someone in my line of work. I'm willing to grant you a generous portion of assets in exchange for the truth, and your silence."

Wareta sinks into a deep thought. To anyone else, he would have looked distressed – the image of a man struggling over a matter dear to his heart.

But for someone who has grown up in the trade of buying and selling, counting innumerable stacks of money and sometimes gold, what have you not seen? The gleam in his slightly sunken eyes you easily recognize as the look of someone who thinks they have gotten away with something.

If only you had known to confront this man sooner. You could have been back at the Butterfly Estate by now.

"What do you think, Wareta-san?" You say. "I can give you a written guarantee if you are worried I might go against my word." Predictably, the corners of his lips quirk up. You think he must be congratulating himself. You spoke first, which must mean that he has the upper hand.

"...meet me at this address tonight," Wareta grimaces as he recounts the address of his wife's shop. "Let's discuss the finer details over sake."

"My treat," You add. "I'll be seeing you, then."

You stare at Wareta's back as he leaves. His broad back cuts a lonely figure among the joviality of his surroundings. Once he's out of sight, you turn back to your bowl of udon, already cold and soggy. You polish it off quick as lightning, not a single word of complaint. There is no space for useless thoughts, your mind occupied by the first stirrings of a plan for tonight.

You make a decision to pay a visit to Urai and his in-laws later. You have a favour you need to ask of them.

Chapter Text

The basement is musty, foul smelling and decrepit. A tiny cut-out of space sits atop the stone wall, a tiny window to the world. Barred by thick wooden slats, the cool night air trickles through like dew dripping off a blade of grass. At the same time, what little moonlight present accompanies it, shining through in thin silver slivers.

These slivers of light disperses the darkness. They fall upon the length of a rusted iron chain hammered into the floor. Despite the metal already tainted by rust – turning it into a grimy, patchy brown – the chain still catches and reflects the moonlight. You trail along the length of the chain until it ends in a tight fitted manacle. This circlet of metal winks in the spurts of light from the waxing moon.

Your gaze shifts further upwards. You cannot perceive anything above the gruesomely twisted ankle, but from the size of the ensnared foot and its dainty toes, you're certain its owner had once been a lady.

"Reta," the hunched figure lets out a terrible moan capable of scraping moss that grows from cracks in the walls. "Reta!" With your own arms bound tightly in rope, you feel a twisted kinship toward her.

You try to move your legs. Still, nothing. Being tossed down the short flight of steps, descending from the shop into the basement, sees you yet to regain feeling in your legs. It could also be the work of the potent cocktail you had ingested, earlier.

Your chest tightens. Whether it is from your emotional reaction to the woman or toward your plight, you cannot tell.

"Kizu-chan... I'm home."

You slant your head and look up at Wareta. He's towering over you, standing close enough for you to make out his expression despite the poor lighting. His face is set in a stony glower. His lidded eyes are reflective in the moonlight, the dangerous glint to them marking his transformation from the cheerful man who warmly welcomed you slightly over an hour ago. This Wareta is a completely different beast.

You lower your gaze to examine the weapon in his hands. He holds a basic katana housed in a simple, unpainted wooden grip. Much like its owner the katana is non-descript, the kind you can buy off the wall at a blacksmith's, but observe closer and you notice how the edge of the blade is ferociously sharp. Like Wareta's eyes, it glints in the darkness.

Wareta's grip on it is neither too tight nor loose. He wields it comfortably, giving away his familiarity with it. This is a weapon has seen things despite Kakunodate's peaceful climate. A memory of your master claws through your foggy mind, one where he demonstrates how devastating a basic weapon could be in the hands of an experienced master.

As if hearing your thoughts, Wareta abruptly slashes at the ground near your feet. Metal meets stone tiles in a hollow, echoeing ring. Stone shards patter like rain on your pant legs.

His movement lacks the fluidity of your master's – who had hacked bark from a tree in half a breath – but his display is sufficient to send a vein of tension thrumming through your body. Your sweat matted forehead is further drenched. Your heart thunders, loud and fierce, the sound of its pulsing drowning out the wind whistling through the cracks in the walls.

You count your breaths. Steady the drumming of your heart until you can hear the sound of your own breathing.

Recognize the strength of the current, a voice your head reminds, don't let it sweep you away.

Your body becomes liquid. The weight anchored to the pit of your stomach is ground into dust as the intense buzzing in your ears gradually fades. Blood retreats from your head, bringing with it some measure of feeling to your feet. Feeling the light tingling in the tips of your toes, you know your preparation wasn't for naught.

Wareta continues gazing at her. "How has your day been, Kizu?"

"Reta! Reta!"

The woman's cries sound like the dying wail of an animal. You don't doubt she would have lunged for his throat had the chain not held fast. The basement is wide, but she could have reached him in the time it takes lightning to strike down a tree.

"Kizu, please, settle down." The manner that Wareta speaks is identical to how Urai spoke to his lover. Gentle as rustling wisteria branches. "You don't need to be upset. Look at what I've brought. It's been some time since your last meal, hasn't it?"

Her appearance is revealed once your eyes adjust to the darkness. Tendrils of messy black hair fall over her shoulder, the tips of which brush against the neckline of her loose jinbei style kimono. Her face is unusually petite, her skin the shade of freshly fallen snow. Were it not for the crusted bloodstains around her mouth, her visage would not seem so different from ladies you've seen on streets.

When you see her emerald sclera, containing the shifting mass of a black iris, your senses immediately go off. Demon.

"Say something, boy. When you're meeting someone for the first time, you need to carry yourself with some respect." Wareta slaps the back of your head, rousing you from your shock. "The paralysing drugs might have affected your limbs, but it shouldn't have taken your ability to speak."

Right, the drugs he slipped into your drink. Does he still think you're under their influence?

You make the effort to reply in a middling and spacey manner. "Wareta-san... what exactly would you have me say... to this monster?"

Your head whips violently to the side. The punch is within your expectations, but predicting it doesn't make it hurt any less. You taste blood as you run your tongue across your inner cheek.

"It is not my nature to be cruel, but neither is letting a greenhorn tread my feet. I would prefer if you went painlessly, unlike the other men. But should you test my anger..." Wareta pauses to wipe his hand on his clothes. "Her name is Kizu. You will refer to her as Koe, Kuroshio-san."

Kizu Koe. You can finally put a name to it's face. "I will... remember it. It was rude of me to... insult her when I'm intruding... on her premises."

Wareta grunts and looks away. He seems slightly surprised you've deciphered your location. Indeed, normal people would be toeing consciousness if they'd ingested whatever drugs Wareta mixed in your drink. He doesn't look affected by your revelation, though, so it's clear he currently does not regard you a threat.

You test your binds, wriggling your arms and legs. There are no binds on your feet, only your midsection. You casually glance down. The rope is tight, but it only goes around you in two loops. You almost feel like laughing. Wareta must have done this before to be this assured in his success.

You conclude your findings and continue to control your breathing. Strength builds with every new breath you take, each pull and release.

Inhale.

No, it's not time. You're still not close to the level of strength required. Not yet.

"Familiar as you are with... your employees..." You venture to ask, intent to buy time for yourself. "Wareta-san, aren't you worried... they might report... you for this?"

You don't think your collapse, which had taken the jar of sake with you, had escaped their notice. Though the shattering of that clay vessel had hardly been noisy, it should have been loud as a firecracker in that empty shop.

"The people under my employ are familiar with the drill. They should have already vacated the premises after they witnessed it. The fates of those who do not follow my instructions will have seen to their obedience." Wareta smiles grimly. This man is slightly more psychotic than you first assumed. "Kuroshio-san. Why do I feel as if you are not taking me seriously, despite having fallen to my deception?"

The question concealed within Wareta's words might have invited your laughter, were you not still dealing with some of the aftereffects of your drugging. Why are you not afraid? You have many reasons for it, but it wouldn't pay to reveal the main one so soon.

"You are wrong to think... I am unphased," you say. "But mostly, it is because... you are not the most... fearsome creature in this... room."

"Reta!" The chained demon screams, strangling the air with her hands. "Husband! Help me!"

Wareta's glare is wrathful. "Do not speak ill of my wife. You slight me by calling her a monster. I don't care what you or your cohorts believe, but Kizu Koe is no such thing. She is my beloved!"

"I admire your resolve... but she is a demon. They are beasts in... human skin, whether or not we... wish them to be."

Wareta's answering growl blends with the demon's mewling cries. He tucks his katana under his arm and stomps toward the table in the corner. His broad shouldered back hunches. You hear the sound of two rocks struck simultaneously. A lamp bursts into flame.

When Wareta steps away, undulating orange shades fall upon the grey stone floor and throw shadows onto the small bay of straw tucked in another corner of the basement, yet another thing you hadn't noticed.

On the wall facing the tiny barred window, three sets of Demon Slayer uniforms hang lifelessly. Their mismatched sizes tell of separate owners, but their similar states of disarray indicates how they had all met the same, grisly ending.

"I will not waste my breath," Wareta says. "Either way, you will meet your end here. I do not have to listen to the flagrant falsehoods of a dead man."

"Are you... certain?" You maintain the same cadence of speech as Wareta begins prowling toward you, his sword reflecting the light from the flames.

At your words. Wareta stops. "The medications I fed you are top grade," he explains, perplexed. "You're a fool to think you can rely on brute strength to overcome them."

Lying in the center of the room, the distance between both of you could be covered in a single leap. Despite the danger, you smile. "Merchants are greedy, but rarely fools."

Inhale–

You throw your arms out, thick coils of rope snapping. You're on your feet before Wareta can process your escape. Your body is filled with unbridled strength, every muscle in your body heightened for battle. Total Concentration Breathing is the first technique you learned from your master, and its usefulness knows no bounds.

"You–" Wareta falls into a battle stance. The fury in his voice eats away his shock of your seemingly miraculous escape. "How did you do that?!" You dust off your legs and fold your trembling arms into your sleeves. Wareta doesn't need to know your body has yet to recover its capacity to defend itself.

"It's because I came prepared," you say, purposely vague.

"How did you find out about the drugs?" Wareta demands.

"I didn't," you reply truthfully. "But there is only so much a person can do with alcohol, so I made a calculated guess. I confess, I had thought you would use deadlier poisons. I wasted quite a bit of money to purchase powerful, slow acting antidotes. The downside to living in provincial areas seems to be that rare medicines sell for absurd prices."

It would have been impossible to find the counter-poison you needed without help. You recall Urai's confusion and Masai's surprise when you stepped into their restaurant. The joy on their faces when they realized you sought their assistance. Had you sought to ruin Urai after what he had done, you would already be in pieces inside the demon's stomach.

The expression on Wareta's face is dark and ugly. "I underestimated you, boy."

"That's Kuroshio-san to you."

Wareta shakes his head. "You're young, yet already so calculating. How did someone like you buy into the lies of that demon slaying cult? Your future would bright beyond compare. Instead, you waste your youth chasing figments of old wives tales."

You need to keep Wareta engaged until you can find a way to snatch your sword. You're already disadvantaged since it's not yet clear whether the drugs in your system are completely mitigated. He might be getting along in age, but from his earlier display, it's clear he's a competent swordsman.

"Wareta-san, you should already be aware your wife is no longer human. You can't accuse me of being blinded by a lie when you're the same," you say. To you, a demon is a demon. There's not a shred of humanity left in that imprisoned creature.

"She's sick!" Wareta explodes. Both his hands tightly grip the katana, pointing the tip of the blade straight at you. "It's all because of you and your friends that Kizu turned out like this. That night, if I'd been a little quicker... if I hadn't insisted on taking that shift... I could have killed that man before he poisoned her!"

Something inside you curdles like rotten milk. A man?

If Wareta's wife had become a demon... could she have been turned by Muzan himself?

The demon, who had gone quiet during Wareta's rant, restarts her grating howls. The sight of her head thrown back, her glimmering, pointed teeth and insane screaming, makes you sick to the stomach. You gesture at her. "What kind of poisoning would be capable of turning her into that?"

If Wareta has been using the same method of drugging his victims, then going by the uniforms on the wall, all three slayers hadn't gotten the chance to point out the impossibility of his theory. There's no other way to explain why they fell to a person of Wareta's calibre, not with the techniques they should've had at their disposal.

Wareta's temper becomes further inflamed. ""I won't hear another word of your lies." He heaves a furious breath, his next sentence low and dangerous. "Kuroshio, don't think you will leave this place alive."

He rushes you, katana arcing down in an overhead strike. Whether its due to his emotional state or your words, it's clear Wareta is thrown off. His movement is frenzied, uncontrolled. You tuck your shoulder and roll under his wild swing. There is a shriek of metal as Wareta's blade slashes the stone tiles you had stood upon.

You roll onto your feet, regaining balance. Your Nichirin Blade, still in its sheath, is an arm's length away. You don't lunge for it. Your arms continues to tremble, wielding your sword would be impossible. You grab the handle of the oil lamp instead, flinging it in the direction of the pile of straw.

When Wareta whirls around, poised to attack once more, his gaze is immediately drawn to the fresh blaze. The fire casts gyrating shadows over his face, accentuating the horrified pull of his mouth and the widening of his eyes. Flames ferociously eat at the oil drenched straw, laying waste to the large pile and producing a stabbing heat you can feel even from the other side of the basement.

"No!" Wareta screams. "What have you done?!"

You don't deign that with an answer, and you don't need to. Wareta speeds headfirst into the source of blistering heat. You don't realize what he's doing, too busy fending off smoke from entering your rapidly watering eyes.

You hear a hear a cry of "Sit tight, Kizu!" followed by the sound of a chain breaking. No, he couldn't have–

It's your turn to yell. "Wareta-san!"

Through the haze of smoke, you make out the outline of a broad shouldered form. You watch as a figure two thirds his size rises from the ground. In the backdrop, brilliant red flames continue to burn recklessly.

"Kizu," Wareta says, sounding tearful. "Let's leave this place together."

Despite your viciously shaking arms, you take your sword into your hands. It's a struggle to keep both palms firmly encased around the handle, but there is no other option. You already know what will come next.

"You fool," you say, just as a chorus of screams ring out amidst the crackling flames.

The flames are chokingly thick. It's becoming a struggle to breathe, hampering your already weakened condition. Straining your ears, you can hear quiet whimpering somewhere on the ground in front of you.

Wareta? Perhaps he managed to fend the demon off using the smoke as cover. Unfortunately, it doesn't change the fact there's a demon prowling somewhere amidst the smoke.

You can feel it. The hungry gaze of a raucous beast centered on you.

You grit your teeth. If Wareta was dead, you could've fled the basement in good conscience. But you can't, not when he's still alive. This a battle you will not be able to avoid.

Scrape.

Scrape, scrape,  screeee -

You hear nails dragging across the floor. You think the sound is nearby, but you have no way to confirm it. The basement is already choked with smoke, and your vision is effectively halved. You back away with slow steps, grimacing when the edge of the table digs into your back.

You can feel your strength rapidly fading from your body. The benefits from your previous breath technique only last so long, and you've never had great stamina to begin with. Two decisions lie ahead: wait and hope the demon is somehow scared off by growing blaze, or utilize what's left of your power to clear your vision.

Striking Tide? No, your body won't be able to endure. Catching the demon by surprise sounds amazing, but it might hit Wareta. That leaves–

"First form..." You choke on the smoke, barely spitting out, "Water Surface Slash!"

You unleash an underhand swing toward the window atop the wall. Your blade bleeds blue and white mist, coalescing into a wavering outline of a surging water current. The wall falls apart cleanly. A jagged piece of stone along with the wooden bars, crashes onto the ground.

The hole isn't gaping, but it funnels a fair bit of smoke out of the basement. It's just unfortunate the wood landed directly in the fire. Combined with the fresh oxygen, kindles it the blaze into larger heights. For the moment though, the room before you is largely revealed.

Drawing in deep, gasping breaths, you tense your shoulders and survey the area, ignoring the nail-like texture of the sword handle in your still trembling hands.

Wareta lies in a pool of his own blood. Similar to the bits of broken chain surrounding him, his katana is in pieces near where the demon once rested. It is hard to tell from your position, but the man has his hands pressed onto his wounds – one near the base of his neck, the other on his chest. You can't see clearly, but you think you can hear him breathing still, however weak. From the look of his injuries however, you don't think he'll last for much longer.

You itch to flee the basement but the problem still remains. The demon is nowhere to be seen.

"Impossible... Did it escape?"

"Heeee..." The hair atop your head shivers, and the stench of rotten meat envelops you. There is a disturbing noise of nails raked across wood to accompany the heavy breathing coming from behind you. "Heeee, heeee. Husband...?"

What you would have seen had you chose to tilt your head up is indescribable. Luckily, though weakened, your reflexes prevent you from committing that terrible mistake. You throw yourself forward, twisting in mid-air with your blade. You make to stab her, but your arms fail to respond to your urging.

"HUSBAND!" The demon leaps after you, shrieking. "SAVE ME!"

You're not quick enough to evade this time. She swings her arms, hammering down. Her attack sends you hurtling into the ground. You feel tiles beneath you splinter and crack. Spots flash in your vision, followed by a wave of nausea that nearly makes you spew.

"Y-You wretched..." You cough out a mouthful of blood. It is a small mercy you don't loosen your grip on your Nichirin blade. For all the good it does, since it won't numb the pain of your broken bones, or the large stone wedge stuck you can feel stuck your back.

The demon's nebulous, frightful face hovers over you. Her stank breath is foul enough to make your toes curl. Her pupils emanate an animalistic hunger. In contrast, the light from the fire makes her emerald sclera gleam like jewels in the sun. The blistering heat of the flames, threatening to seer off your skin, is no match for the intensity of her gaze.

"Husband," she mutters. "He, came, Muzan-sama... Hungry."

Her fangs sink into the flesh of your shoulder. When she lifts her head, she rips a gory chunk of flesh with it. Your scream reverberates throughout the basement.

The demon's eyes slides shut in ecstasy. She moans, dragging her fingers painted red over her gaunt cheekbones. "Delicious," she mumbles, eyes still closed.

You stare at her bloody mess of a face and think, is this how your life will end?

Though the pain of having a living part of your body ripped out has yet to dissipate, it is no match for the sheer weight of emotion dredged up by the faces that flash across your mind. One in particular stands out among the rest, and thinking of the fate you might have thrust upon her, your resolution solidifies.

You. Will. Not. Die. Here.

The agreeing answer from the universe comes in the form of a wayward spark. A piece of burning wood bursts forth from the blazing mound of flames, which are already tall enough to lick the basement ceiling.

You watch in interest, the pain from your wounds having forced your mind into a state of detached bemusement, as it lands on the demon's head of flowing black hair. In response, she lifts her arms, batting wildly at her head.

Her neck is wide open. The sight sends a burst of energy through your exhausted body.

Your hand slides up the handle and presses against the handguard. It is made from a translucent crystal-like material, shaped in a circle and connected by four wavy lines within. You slant your Nichirin Blade and deliver an upward slash.

The demon's head slips off her neck while her hands continue to reaching for the spark long since put out. "May you never escape from hell," you say, watching her body fall backwards.

To think you used to loathe that your body traded stamina for abnormal strength. Truly, your biggest boon from being stuck as a Tsuchinoto for so many years, was coming to realize you had to work with your strengths rather than obsess over your weaknesses.

Your body pumping with adrenaline, you somehow pull yourself to your feet. Your pain is starting to become more pronounced, you think. You can feel more keenly the presence of a protrusion in your back, and the wound on your shoulder is beginning to throb. It won't be long till the agony from these injuries paralyze you entirely.

An image of a grand property comes to mind, one you had seen fenced in by glamourous buildings of the merchant district. You can think of no other place that will guarantee your survival. "Before I'm completely crippled... I need to make it there."

Your legs spurn your efforts to move them, but with the threat of the blaze behind you, the disaster already nigh uncontrollable, they reluctantly allow themselves to be controlled. You ascend the staircase in slow, hazy steps. As you climb, you let loose a hacking cough that splatters your palm with red.

"Ryuu. Just a little more..." You wipe your mouth, grimacing. "You want to see her again, don't you?" Breathing heavily, you pull yourself up the final stair and slink out of the shop. 

Chapter Text

You plod along the back alleyways under the cover of night. Each step sends an acute agony spiking through your body, and you grit your teeth suppress your whimpers. You don't need to have anyone seeing you in this state. There'll be too many questions to answer, especially when Wareta and his wife's bodies are discovered.

Or has her body already disappeared? You have the habit of burying demons, for in your mind, they can no longer be considered such when they die. A burial is only appropriate.

Voices drift from direction you originated, carried by the wind. Their volume continues to rise, and you recall that when you'd left, the fire had begun attacking the foundations of the shop. The blaze must be uncontrollable by now. Even at this distance, you can smell a sharp tint of smoke and ash.

"Guh–" An involuntary cry escapes you when you trip on the uneven ground. You catch yourself, straightening your body and bracing yourself on a brick wall.

To your dismay, your sudden movement amplifies your agony thousand fold. Maybe it would have been better to let yourself fall. The wound on your back in particular, feels as if someone is trying to dig out your spine with a fork.

You clench your jaw, enduring the pain. The stone you'd impaled yourself on had fallen out two streets ago, hitting an empty gutter you shuffled past. There should be nothing stuck in your back, but still it continues to throb. Like Ichiro Fuji, its phantom presence greatly irks you. It doesn't help that being exposed to the cool, night air is akin to bathing your wounds in salt.

At least your shoulder, missing a chunk of flesh, has gone completely numb. The work of the demon's saliva, or perhaps, your body's attempt at making sure you don't go insane from pain. Demons might be superior in many ways, but the human mind is truly one of wonder.

You glimpse down at your body. The durable and decently comfortable Slayer uniform has been exchanged for an unglamorous happi. It is thankfully oversized, the hem touching the top of your knees. If Wareta hadn't taken your uniform, the demon would have broken its teeth. Or not, because the level of strength it demonstrated seemed slightly above what newly christened Slayers could handle.

You press a hand over your mouth to cover a rasping cough. You pull it back to see it painted with a light sheen of blood. You want to laugh. As a Tsuchinoto, you've been this gravely injured by a demon that a Mizunoe could've defeated with ease. Truly, you are ashamed.

You take your hand off the wall and continue walking. Going by the shops and buildings here, you should be reaching that place soon.

Eventually, the path leads to one of Kakunodate's main streets, opening up to reveal a row of grand looking houses. In addition, the well-kept shrubbery and the paved stone roads signal that you're in the right place. Only the housing area in the merchant district can be this luxurious.

The moon being out tonight is a small mercy. You definitely would have gotten lost without using its light to discern your surroundings. Soon as you think this, a thunderous rumble echoes in the distance. You look up in time to see a large grey cloud obscure the moon.

If you had strength left in your hands, you would point your middle finger toward the sky. Sadly, you don't. You can only continue to urge your exhausted and battered body forward.

That distinctive redwood board fence finally comes into view when the first droplets of rain land on the top of your head. By the time you've passed the wisteria emblem, carved perfunctorily into the gates of every Wisteria House, the rain is coming down in sheets.

You drag yourself onto their sheltered doorstep, knowing with surety you resemble a partially drowned rodent. At least under the heavy rain, your clothes have been washed clean of blood.

Your vision swirls as you raise your hand. You pound the door with your remaining strength and hear it rattle in place. Are you using that much strength? Or is your hearing a little off...?

The door slides open to reveal an elderly man dressed in a severe coloured hakama. You stare at him. His clothes are so dark that you wouldn't have seen him if not for his stark white hair, like a splash of white paint on a midnight canvas.

Your body sways. You rest your full weight upon left leg and lean against the doorframe. "I'm a Tsuchinoto," you tell him, your own voice beginning to sound distant.

He reacts by placing his hands upon your wrists. You faintly feel a pressure tugging you, but your body has seemingly shut down and refuses to react. It's fine, though. You're safe now. The Wisteria family has saved your life more than once throughout your career, and you know what to expect.

As the old man continues trying to pull you inside, you hear somebody yell, "Wait!" The hands on your wrists cease their tugging.

A man with a plump belly strides into your line of sight. Your vision is now wracked with black spots, so try as you might, you're unable to make out his face.

"Nagiri, do you take me for chopped liver? When I am here, every single person who passes through these doors require my approval."

His voice sounds considerably familiar. You might have bumped into him at the market. A fellow merchant, perhaps.

The old man doesn't let go of your wrist and replies, "Refrain from nagging me orn the topic of seniority. This place has been under my care long before you'd gained your position. Now, get out of my way, I have a Slayer in need of emergency treatment."

There is a stamping of feet. "Don't think you can flout the rules just because you worked under the previous head of the family! Our current master ordered us to vet the identities of anyone who dares seek entry. He seeks to weed out deceitful liars wanting to take advantage of our kindness, and that is precisely what I will do."

"Spare me the trivialities!" the old man snaps. "It's an open secret he's doing this to take revenge on a Slayer who slighted him. We've all heard the rumours."

"Those are a bunch of–"

"If he wishes to ruin the name of the Wisteria Family, kindly inform him none of us will stand for it. Now, move aside!"

"When I return to Fuji-sama, don't think I won't–" His complaints stops abruptly. You blink blurrily, noting that he's looking at you. You still can't make out his face. Had you been disfigured by the demon without realizing it? There's no other reason for him to stare intensely enough for goose pimples to cover your skin.

"Kuroshio... Ryuu Kuroshio. That is your name, correct?"

Is that your name? For a second, you pour over the question with the seriousness of picking out rotten grain from a barrel. "Never had another," you slur out your reply.

There is a significant pause. Then with a strange sort of relish in his voice, the man says, "Nagiri, throw him out."

"Look at his injuries. Are you trying to kill him?! Our family has pledged an oath to shelter those of the Demon Slaying Corps. Without them, this country would plunge into chaos!"

"Do not kid yourself. He's a Tsuchinoto, barely a person of significance. His wounds mark him as a dead man, and anyhow, Ryuu Kuroshio has been forbidden to tread these halls."

"Ichiro-sama has no right to change the family law which has existed for–"

"Throw. Him. Out."

A scuffle ensues. The pot-bellied man roughly pries the old man's hands off your wrists. His sudden shove to your chest sends you stumbling, right off the raised door platform.

For a brief moment, a fleeting weightlessness seizes you.

You hit the ground. The resulting shockwave of pure agony feels like being stabbed by a thousand serrated blades. You don't know if a scream rips from your throat, but it'll be strange if there wasn't. The fall isn't great, laughable to consider life threatening, but in your state it is akin to nosediving off a steep cliff.

You feel the patter of rain on your face. Darkness creeps in from the fringes of your consciousness.

Lying on the ground with your limbs splayed, your final thought as your eyes slide shut is that Ichiro Fuji has made good on his promise.

"...shocked he's still breathing."

"Did you give him–"

"Blood? That was the first thing I did. He needed so much my stores are practically empty."

You think you feel yourself blink, but you can't be sure. You see nothing but vague shapes, moving grey figures against a black background. You attempt to move, but you can't feel your body.

No... that is not completely true. You can feel faint sensations in certain parts, almost ticklish, even. Other than that, you can't sense anything. Your world is bathed in an eerie and dreadful silence. Is this what people describe as toeing the line between reality and consciousness?

The somewhat familiar voice says, "That can't be. Is that truly your final diagnosis, Sensei?"

"Don't look at me like that. Just look at his shoulder." This is a different voice, the owner sounding resigned and weary. "Even after stitching what remained of his flesh together, it continues to bleed. I don't know what kind of beast he must have encountered to be bitten this severely, but from what little I can tell, the area has been infected by whatever it carried in its saliva."

"But you pulled him back from the brink of death. There must be a way for you to do something."

"I am not in the business of giving false hope, Nagiri-san. How long have we known each other? And I wasn't finished. The injury on his back is far more serious, one which I have no means to heal."

You want to struggle and thrash, fight away the encroaching disembodied hand. You keep trying until you realize your efforts are utterly pointless. The ghastly, nightmarish extension hovers over your chest – or is it your back? – and thrusts itself through it.

What an awful nightmare, this is.

The same man continues, "It is impossible for me to assess how badly his internals have been affected. Whatever cut into his flesh might have severed his spine or impaled any of his vital organs. I stoppered the bleeding and stabilized him, but with how deeply his flesh has been penetrated it is not if the problems occur, but when."

"This... what about operating on him?"

"Kakunodate is not Tokyo, and my clinic is not a hospital! Though I'm not one of those traditionalist codgers who spit at foreign medical techniques, I've never cut open a man or woman in my entire fifty years."

These voices are really too noisy. You want to open your eyes to find out who they belong to but... your eyes... so heavy.

"Pardon my intrusion, Sensei." Oh, a newcomer. What a gentle, soothing voice. A woman?

"Ah, miss. My apologies, I didn't think my rambling would rouse you from your sleep."

"There is no need for that, I'm intruding upon your kindness after all. But forgive me, for I overheard your conversation. I hope I'm not being too forward, but I myself practice medicine. I've previously dealt with patients in similar conditions... so perhaps, I may be of help."

"Oh! That would be–"

It's become less of a nightmare and more of a dream. Her voice is really... soothing...

...

...

"Why do we have to save him? He might not have their uniform, but that katana clearly makes him one of them."

"As a doctor, I cannot turn my back on someone in need."

"You're too kind. If this man wasn't in such a pathetic state, he might tried taking your head. I say we leave him to die."

"We are not in the position to fault him for what he might have done. After all, if we were like the rest of Muzan's progeny, we would have surely killed him as well."

"Still–!"

...

"Hmph, you made her waste such good medicine. I won't forgive you for that, but it'll be even worse if you died after her treatment. You'd better cling to your pitiful life, you hear me?"

You wake up in a cold sweat. Immediately, you feel a deep and throbbing ache pulsing outward from your back. Still heaving gasping breaths, you bend your hand and reach toward it. When you reach a certain area near your lower back, skimming over rough skin, you come across a slightly elevated patch of flesh. Gently tracing it, you can feel a thin line where a needle must have sutured.

You give the flesh there a sharp prod, and jerk at the ensuing jolt of pain. No doubt about it. That is where you remember your back wound being. But who in the world had done this...?

You suddenly recall dragging yourself through the streets of Kakunodate to reach the Wisteria House, only to be thrown out by a fatty. You rub your temples, trying to place what you'd done to gain such animosity.

...oh. He was the man you'd seen speaking to Urai, who'd been present when you stepped out to reveal yourself. He was probably one of of Ichiro Fuji's lackeys, seeing as he hadn't let you step an inch past the threshold after he recognized you. The young master of the Fuji family certainly hasn't forgotten the promise he'd made that day.

You hadn't put stock in his promise, but since you nearly died because of it, you can't help but be mad at Fuji. Indeed, you had made some prideful remarks at his expense that day outside headquarters, but for him to be so adamant about keeping to that dastardly promise angers you.

More than that, though, you're also furious at yourself. If it hadn't been for your words that day, you truly might have died in the rain.

You'd thought it'd been the right thing to do, defending your ego, but the price of nearly dying makes it less easy for you to claim you do not regret it. Outside of protecting those you loved, nothing is more precious than one's own life.

"Kuroshio-san, you're awake!" You turn to see a whitehaired elderly standing at the doorway. He gapes at you, the tray in his hands shaking badly enough to rattle the objects resting upon it. "Truly, that lady doctor spoke the truth. It's been exactly three days since then."

"Nagiri-san... correct? You were the one who received me at the door that night, I assume?"

"Yes, yes, that was me. Quickly, lie down, you shouldn't be exerting yourself. I'll call for the doctor. He won't be able to do a fraction of what that lady did, but you need to have your injuries checked."

You wave his concerns away. "I feel fine. Much better than I thought I would be, if I'm honest." You're not lying. Though a little weak, your head is clear and you feel no pain outside of some dull aching. You began pushing yourself off the bed.

"Where's my sword and uniform? I need to–" A wave of dizziness hits you without warning. You fall back into the thin bedding, nearly bruising the back of your head. The dull aches turn into sharp, piercing pains and you lay down for the next few moments, gasping for breath. When the biting agony subsides, the nagging begins.

"Tsk, you Slayers are all the same. Never paying a fraction of attention to yourselves you reserve for hunting demons. Your painkillers are wearing off, fool! Now get back into bed while I fetch the doctor. Do not even think about getting out, or I'll tie you to the futon myself."

He shoots you a glare, making sure you tuck yourself back into bed before he tromps off in search of the doctor.

You sigh. You stare up at the ceiling and count the water stains in the rickety, wooden roof. You should be grateful to him for saving your life... but goodness, what a mother hen. If your memory can be relied on, he also seems to harbour some dislike toward Ichiro Fuji. With such a strong character, it is no wonder they don't have an affinity for each other.

When the doctor, who Nagiri calls Sensei, enters the room a short while later, you receive a full breakdown on the current state of your body. It is much worse than you initially expect.

Torn muscles, three broken ribs, a barely suppressed infection from what you believe resulted from the demon's unclean mouth... when the doctor finishes his explanation, you hang your head in embarrassment. You haven't sustained this many injuries ever since your promotion to Tsuchinoto. The last serious injury you'd gotten you can barely recall, during your last few days as a Kanoe.

The drugs Wareta slipped you can be blamed for your lackluster performance. You can't deny you hold a portion of the blame however, since you walked willingly into his trap without thinking of the repercussions.

"It looks like I'll have to resume training if I don't want to end up like this again..." you mutter.

"That is the absolute last thing you should be doing!" Nagiri explodes. "Did you not listen to what the doctor was telling you the entire time?"

"Plenty of rest, no vigorous movements or activity for at least a month," you repeat, wincing at his shrill voice. "You have my promise that I'll adhere to it once I return to headquarters to make my report." When you see Nagiri prime himself to launch into another rant, you raise your hand. "You can't talk me out of it. It is my duty, I have to see it through."

Also, your urgency is due to what you found out about Wareta's wife. Muzan Kibutsuji, the original demon... how long has it been since the Corps had gotten information on his whereabouts?

It's been four days since you sliced off the demon's head. Four days completely cut off from communications. Your Kasugai Crow must be beside itself in worry. Not getting into contact with it when you're more than capable would just be mean-spirited and negligent.

"If you're planning to travel," the doctor speaks up. "There are still leftover painkillers you can take along. Depending on how far you're going, it should be able to tide you for majority of your journey. I'd normally insist you rest but if you've made up your mind, there is nothing much I can do."

"That would be helpful," you reply gratefully, ignoring Nagiri's huff. "I will reimburse you for both your service and supplies, Sensei."

The bald man cracks a wry smile. "I couldn't do much. The fact you pulled through is solely due to the efforts of that lady doctor. I don't know who she is. I only housed her and her companion since they took shelter from the rain at my doorstep. If I took reparations for her work, it would be a great sin."

"You tried to save me. It is only reasonable for me to repay you."

As you say this, a grateful smile blossoms on his wrinkled face. His eyes dance with happiness when he leaves the room, taking the tray of medicines with him. When he's gone, you turn back to Nagiri. "Thank you for bringing me here. If not for you, I would surely have died that night. You probably greatly risked your position to do this."

Nagiri watches you dip your head. Grimacing, he says, "The current master of the Fuji family is nothing like the previous. He's competent enough, but his heart is wicked. When he was a child, I asserted his demeanour to his horrid rearing, but... as a man, his actions can no longer be excused. Kuroshio-san. Please find it within yourself to forgive our family."

You stop him from kowtowing. "This matter is between him and I. Don't worry. You have served the Corps loyally for countless years, this won't change a thing."

"Kuroshio-san, I believe you must know by now the depth of Ichiro-sama's animosity toward you. Enlighten this old man... what is the reason he hates you enough to harm your life?"

If you said it was over a woman, you wonder what this old man's reaction would be. But you rather not risk Shinobu's reputation, so instead you say, "I suppose it's because I insulted the taste of his tea. Indeed, it was extremely rude of me. He worked hard to brew it for someone like me, who's so far below him."

"Such a thing... status is the last thing Ichiro-sama should speak of, considering his heritage."

You regard Nagiri with some curiosity at that statement, but the aching of your back and shoulder diverts your attention. You groan softly at the thought of a month long travel back to Headquarters. In this situation, perhaps it would be prudent to put the rest of your money to good use.

"Nagiri-san, could I trouble you to help me once again?" When he nods, you say, "When you've collected my belongings from the inn, could purchase a steed on my behalf? It has to be relatively inexpensive, but healthy enough to make the journey."

The old man nods. "Understood, Kuroshio-san. I will see what I can do. For now though," he wags his finger at you. "I expect you to rest!"

"Alright, alright..." you say.

Sheesh. Even the demon you faced hadn't been this deadly. 

Chapter Text

According to the saying you once heard from a foreign trade merchant– man proposes and god deposes. Your original plan involved charging into headquarters for an audience with Oyakata-sama, but fate has determined it to play out differently. 

You lean against your horse in a bid to control your breathing. Your back injury has just made its reappearance, assaulting you with a pain so ferocious it makes you feel as if your muscles are snapping strand by strand.

"I should have let that demon kill me..." You clench a fistful of rough material, the kimono bought off Nagiri after he found your belongings. Your shoulder chooses this moment to give an agonizing throb. Your other hand clings to the edge of your saddle, one loose grip away from allowing your knees to buckle.

"Urk. Why does it have to come back now?"

The only thing you wish to carry out in this instant is lie flat on the dirt road. If you are lucky, the darkness will envelop you. If not, you will eat dirt. Both options sound wonderful. Without your painkillers, the sheer agony of standing up is like nothing you've ever experienced.

You can't blame anyone but yourself. Your impatience has caused this. You really should have taken it easy and kept the doctor's words in mind. Not spur your horse to gallop at full speed through the last stretch of road. That definitely counts as an overly vigorous, back breaking activity. One that you are paying the toll for.

You curse at yourself for acting so hot-headed. What use was it to rush at the sight of the glazed, bright red roof tiles? The building further up ahead, resting at the top of the sloping hill isn't even your true destination. It is simply a place housing Kakushi in charge of transporting Slayers and guests to the secret location of the Corp's headquarters. You would still have several more hours of travel if you reached the building like you wanted.

Essentially, you have aggravated your wounds for nothing.

"Were you trying to remind me of that all this time?" You tell the horse, giving him a gentle pat on the flank. "I was being stubborn. I should have listened to you."

Your horse had whinnied rebelliously when you tried pushing him at first. It had taken some convincing, and a stick of carrot from your pocket, before he reluctantly abided by your orders. You thought your horse had refused out of exhaustion since you worked the poor thing like a slave through the week long journey, but it turns out the animal was simply more intelligent than you are.

You stroke the horse's mane, annoyed at how that small movement causes you to wince. Your bones can be heard creaking within the confines of your body. If your surroundings were devoid of sound, you would surely hear the pointed ends of your broken ribs scraping against each other.

The horse turns his head to lightly nuzzle your cheek. He leaves behind a wet patch of slobber, which you ignore, because you're too tired to bother wiping it.

A split second later comes the flapping of wings. Your crow lands clumsily on top of the saddle, scaring the horse into a loud whinny that makes your eardrums throb.

"Time for rest! Time for Ry-uu to rest!"

"Your care is much appreciated." You grin weakly at your Kasugai messenger. "What's gotten into you? I expected you to squawk my ear off. Are you worried that if I died, you'd get a Slayer who is stingy with your food?"

"RY-UU NOT FUN-NY!" The crow flaps vigorously, prompting you to shield your face. You immediately drop your arm at another wave of vicious pain. "Ryuu must rest! Ryuu must be safe!"

You're truly amazed. The bird hasn't mentioned food or demons in the entire duration that it spoke. Throughout your demon slaying career, climbing up the ranks from Mizunoto to Tsuchinoto, this is the first time it deigns to speak so much without being baited by some snack or another.

Similarly, this is the first time you've pushed your body to this extent. It's different from your self-imposed training, where you tried to overcome your limits in a controlled and somewhat safe environment. Getting injured, for example, would put an end to anything you were doing. You wouldn't have forced yourself to work through the pain.

You slowly lift your head. Your gaze moves off the splendidly tiled roofs far ahead to the vague, nondescript roof of the marginally smaller building on your left. This was the place you are missing dearly, whether you care to admit it or not.

You look past the gated compound, drinking in the sight of flowers in full bloom. A strange sight in Autumn. There is a small watering can placed nearby, a blocky grey object you normally see Naho or Sumi carrying. You imagine hearing light bubbly voices, a trio of small bodies enthusiastically waving their arms.

The mental image vanishes when you let out a sigh. You need help. There's no way around this problem. Instead of pointlessly enduring, it is far better to get some assistance, no matter how minor. "Too much stubbornness is unhealthy," you mutter.

This will be a detour, however. No matter how short it is, it still costs time. Time you do not want to waste due to the subject matter.

Muzan Kibutsuji. Any sightings, no matter how indirect, are taken very seriously. You have been a Slayer for nearly four years now, and this is the first time you'd even come across a sign of his existence. If you didn't regularly face down man-eating demons, you would think him some figment of a child's overly active imagination.

You already sent your crow ahead to inform Oyakata-sama of your return, but you omitted any mention of Muzan. This topic is too sensitive to record in something flimsy and easily intercepted as a scroll. This is the driving force behind your decision to push yourself to rush back in a fourth of the time it had taken you to reach Kakunodate. The sooner you can inform Ubayashiki of the events that transpired, the better.

However, going by how weak you feel, you might just end up collapsing before you reach him. That scenario seems likely when you think about the trouble it takes to enter and leave the secret location of Demon Slayer Headquarters.

Nothing is taken more seriously than Oyakata-sama's safety. You can still recall how you'd been brought to him. The day you first saw the Pillars in the flesh was your first time at headquarters, and hours before that, you had been carried by more than a dozen kakushi. Tightly blindfolded, arms loosely bound. You remember your body aching miserably afterward from their rough manhandling.

"Kuroshio Ryuu, when did you become this indecisive? Get a hold of yourself!" You focus on the gates of the Butterfly Estate. You make all the excuses you want, but you can't lie to yourself. You know the real reason for the reluctance that stays your hand, and curse your cowardice under your breath. "These silly worries are pointless. There's no guarantee Shinobu-san will be present. Even if is she is, there are plenty of things that need her attention."

Pillars are always busy. Shinobu had been bogged with work before you'd left for Kakunodate, and you know the sheer number of side projects she has running at any given time. You should be safe.

On the off chance you do bump into her, you can make a strategic retreat. Given how you left things, it would actually be strange if she tried to stop you.

Giving the haunches of your horse a final pat, you leave him and your Kasugai crow behind, hobbling awkwardly up to the mansion's gates. You push them open quietly as possible and follow the path leading up to the estate's main entrance.

While walking, you can't help but let your eyes linger on your surroundings. Near the tall stone fence is a long clothesline packed with clothing and sheets. Move your gaze to the right, and you see a prudently kept flowerbed with a smattering of butterflies hovering over the brightly covered petals. Meanwhile, gentle sweeping winds comb through the ankle high grass of the gardens, eliciting a rustle capable of comforting tired souls.

You stop in the middle of the path. Why do you suddenly feel like crying?

You've never felt like this after a mission before... but, then again, you never had to a place to rush back to after killing a demon.

You pluck your gaze off the flowerbeds and look further about the large mansion grounds. A sudden gleam of bright sunlight drills into your eyes. You wince and look once more to discover a human-sized object with a texture that reminds you of lacquered bamboo.

You blink, stunned. Now, why would there be a palanquin here?

"The servants of this manor seem to lack understanding of simple commands." The abrasive voice makes your fists twitch in reflex. "If you are unwilling to listen to your superiors, don't blame anyone but yourselves if you lose your jobs. The Demon Slayer Corps adheres to a strict hierarchy that still applies to you people."

"This is the home of the Insect Pillar." The owner of the voice freezes in his tracks when you turn to face him. This guy again? "Unless your master is Ubayashiki-sama or a fellow pillar, Fuji-sama has no control over her subordinates."

"It's you." The lanky lapdog, who you recognize as Ichiro Fuji's from your last encounter, shoots you an impolite scowl. "Someone of your station has no right to criticize. And you're wrong. I already sent them off some time ago, given they actually cared who I represented. You would do well to listen and follow their lead."

"Does everyone under Fuji-sama act this confidently without caring how foolish they look?" You wonder aloud.

Fuji's personal manservant brusquely replies you with his own question. "Kuroshio Ryuu, don't waste my time. State your business."

"I don't have to answer that," you reply. "If you've finished delivering Fuji-sama's gifts, let me pass quietly."

You don't have the energy to engage in a pointless argument. You start walking again, limping when the shooting pain in your back flares with each step. How is it possible that is getting worse? You need to find Aoi. From how badly things are escalating, you might accidentally pass out in the hallway.

You make it up to the door before a hand clamps down on your shoulder. Right where the demon had stolen a chunk of your flesh.

It takes every fibre of your strength not to scream.

"If you are looking for those girls, they were sent out to gather supplies by Kocho-sama. They have yet to return, so stay outside until they do." He mumbles under his breath, "Damn Tsuchinoto."

You grab his wrist. You give it a hard squeeze that makes him gasp in choked surprise. "And when they do return, they might have to splint what I am about to break."

He wrenches his hand off your shoulder. You glance at his pale face as he cradles it in his chest. For all his words, he is a regular person. You, on the other hand, have been through harsh battles and constantly tread the precipice between life and death.

"Get out of my way," you snap, sliding the entrance door open. You enter and slide it shut directly in his face. Finally alone, you collapse against the wall. "Ugh. Of course, he went for the shoulder."

You think back to what he said. Forget it, if Aoi and the rest aren't here, you'll get the medicine yourself. You know where they keep it anyway.

You wait for your breathing to even, the worst of the pain to subside before you manage to push yourself off the wall. You distract yourself by wondering how Fuji's annoying servant chased off the Kakushi working here. Even if they couldn't compete with actual slayers in battle prowess, surely, they could've slapped that man around a little.

You thoughts are a shade darker than usual, but accident or not, he exacerbated your wounds. You no longer care about being polite. If you had your Kasugai Crow with you, you would have sent it to peck his eyes out. It would be a good lesson in humility.

You lumber through the mansion's main hallway. It poses a test to your endurance. You keep your noises to a minimum despite each step sending tremors directly up your back. It makes you wish more keenly to pass out, but you are too close to what you need. Giving up now will be foolish.

When the end of the hallway comes into sight, an overwhelming relief washes over you. Turn the corner, go straight past the wards, and you will reach the infirmary where herbs, medicines and tools are stored.

You pass the door that blocks the dining hall, and come to a stop. You remember you can cut through to reach the infirmary. There's no reason not to save precious time, so you raise your trembling hands and pull the door open.

Fuji and Shinobu turn to look at you, cups cradled in their hands. At the sight of the tea vessel, the one which Fuji had snatched from you in the past, nestled cosily in Shinobu's grip, a stabbing pain erupts from your chest. The stabbing betrayal catches you by surprise, the feeling intense enough to remind you of the stone wedge that drove itself through your back.

"My apologies for the interruption." The pain from your other injuries return, dragging you out of your daze. Forget it. You will inform Shinobu about what Fuji did with Urai when she's not engaging him in conversation.

You make to shut the door but Fuji moves swiftly. The door is halfway closed when he intercepts. His hand on the frame, he forces it to remain open. "Kuroshio, my fellow Slayer. Come sit with us. We have only just started on a second round of tea, and this is one Shinobu-san brewed herself. It would be a crime for you to miss it."

As usual, Fuji's sincere and less arrogant demeanour in Shinobu's presence is worthy of praise. His utterly pleased tone also hints at something deeper, but you can't be bothered to dissect it. Whatever Shinobu speaks to him about their business, though you can guess what it might be.

You force yourself to smile. "I will have to decline."

You pull on the door, but Fuji stubbornly continues to keep it open. Before you can throw in the towel and simply walk away, he's dragging you into the dining room by the sleeve of your blue haori. You lack the strength to fight it when your shoulder, already inflamed by his servant's actions, sends painful pulsing through your arm held captive in the kimono sleeve.

"There is no need to be polite. We are too familiar with one another to feign humility, do you not think?"

He shoves you into a chair. Shinobu's neutral gaze turns curious when you let out a pitched grunt. She wears her typical polite smile, but it seems to be sharper than you remember. Your stomach sinks. As you expected, she is still upset.

"Here, I shall even pour you a cup," Fuji says. "The last time we did this, you mentioned my company made the experience less than satisfying. With Shinobu-san here, you surely think differently."

Shinobu does not speak, her expression returning to its usual polite, blank one.

"One could say that," you grind out. Things are proceeding so quickly you don't know what to make of it.

Fuji smiles widely, the corners of his eyes crinkling deeply. You don't think he knows how much pain you're in, but he should be smart enough to sense your discontent and impatience. His joviality probably also comes from his knowledge of your ousting from the Wisteria House in Kakunodate.

"What I made is regular black tea, Fuji-sama. You don't have to force anyone to drink it," Shinobu says, staring at Fuji with a strange look in her eye you can't place. "Kuroshio-san, why don't–"

"Kuroshio!" Fuji exclaims in vapid excitement, cutting her off. "I thought you rejected the truth of what I told you the previous time we met, but it seems your impudence was a method to disguise your agreement." His smile morphs into a smirk. He slides over the extra tea vessel to you, the object brimming with hot liquid. "I am glad you heeded my advice."

Ah. You can't believe you got beaten by this socially stunted fool. Shinobu is in his presence, and he blatantly continues to rub salt in your invisible wounds. He's not even hiding his pleasure at the term of address Shinobu used toward you, and it makes you want to punch him.

If he wants to beat someone who was already down, the least he could do is make himself look better in comparison.

"Advice?" You barely keep your scathing opinion of him out of your voice. "So that is what it was."

Listening to him is your biggest mistake. Fuji might be a fool, but you are a bigger one. Not only did he succeed in driving a wedge between you and Shinobu, one that can never be fixed, you also idiotically believed he was deserving of being by her side.

After the incident with Urai, you believe the only type of people this man is suited to spend his life with are people that are equally bereft of values.

Beside you, Shinobu is silent. Seeing the pulsing vein of her forehead however, you recognize how much she is annoyed by Fuji's words. Your forced smile becomes slightly more genuine. At least there is one person here intelligent enough not to buy into Fuji's finely dressed lies.

You shift your gaze back to your teacup. The whole situation with Fuji... Shinobu probably did not require your help. It seems you were the one who thought too highly of yourself.

"Why haven't you tasted it, Kuroshio?" Fuji gestures at the tea he so graciously offered. "It is unlike you, someone grossly enamoured with the Insect Pillar, to pass on the chance to grow closer to her." He pauses, then says, "Could it be that your wounds are still bothering you?"

Your head snaps up. Fuji continues speaking, a delighted expression plastered on his handsome face. "Allow me to call my servant to assist you. Oh, but, that might remind you of what occurred. That would be heartless of me." He shakes his head in exaggerated guilt. "My sincerest apologies, Kuroshio. When I return, I shall discipline whoever it is who wronged you."

"Fuji," you begin, stunned. "Did you..." Kill demons through stupidity alone? Why is he reminding you of how he nearly caused your death through sheer negligence and abuse of power, like it was something to be proud of?

The sensation of gentle fingers on your cheek is jolting. "Wounds?" You lower your head to see Shinobu's worried gaze boring into you. "You were injured?"

Fuji, still not sensing how tense the air in the room has become, takes the opportunity to boast. "Indeed, Shinobu-san. I heard Kuroshio was gravely wounded by a demon. The limits of a Tsuchinoto's strength is shameful, isn't it? As a Kinoe, I can understand to why Pillars loath to associate with this sort of weak rabble."

Shinobu's eyes flash in warning. Fuji does not notice it. Your scoff turns into a hacking cough. "I will choose shame over being shameless, Fuji-sama."

"Kuroshio, to call yourself a demon slayer is laughable. Why–"

Shinobu moves like lightning splitting the sky open. The tea vessel originally handed to you is stolen, and before you can blink, she empties its contents on the proud man sitting opposite of you.

Ichiro Fuji leaps to his feet. His mouth agape, his entire front soaked in bitter smelling tea, the sight of him is beyond comical. You wish you were the cause of it.

"What- Shinobu-san," Fuji blusters. "What did I say to deserve-?!"

You watch his face drain of colour when Shinobu holds up her hand. She tilts her head up to meet his gaze and though he is twice her size, her presence is ten times larger than his could ever hope to match.

This is the Insect Pillar, Shinobu Kocho. The sole slayer unable to cut off a demon's head, who then developed a poison capable of killing swathes of them.

"Should you ever come here without my explicit invitation again," Shinobu says, her tone wreathed in steel. "Do not think you will return whole from whichever hole you crawled from." When Fuji does not move, she picks up the nearby pot and refills her cup. She holds it up in a second warning. "Fuji-sama, please show yourself out."

Fuji quietly exits the dining hall, the bottom of his kimono dragging on the floor behind him. When he shuts the door, cutting off the sight of his family emblem engraved into his back, you release a breath of tension.

"And you." You freeze, but instead of a thorough tongue lashing you expect, Shinobu tugs at your wrist. "Come with me."

The bitter herbal scent of the infirmary has never filled you with such relief until today. Shinobu gently sets you to rest on the sole bed in the room and orders you to stay put. She gracefully spins on her heel and starts rummaging through the shelves packed from wall to wall.

You wait patiently despite how your vision has started swimming, and watch her retrieve a number of items from the upper cabinets. The footstool she uses is kind of adorable, but you know better than to voice it. Watching her fills you with some comfort, a distraction from your physical pains.

Her movements are unhurried but swift. Practiced, like everything in this room has been set in its place by her hand. It probably is, really. You hear the clink of metal, loud and soft, and watch her assemble an array of unseen items onto the thin, metal tray.

Then, she lights something that douses the room in a mellow, charcoal sent. She steps aside and walks back to where you are waiting, and off to the side, you spot a wavering orange flame atop a candle encased in bronze.

When Shinobu comes closer, the items on the tray reveal themselves to be syringes, bandages and a small circular bowl with shimmering translucent cream. The distance between both of you shrinks to half an arm's length.

"This smell," you say before you can stop yourself. "Is this a kind of scented muscle relaxant?"

Shinobu looks bemused. "No. I just like the smell."

You can't tell if she is joking, so you stay silent. You watch her take a seat beside you, not opposite of the bed as doctors usually do with a patient. A cursory glance about the room shows there are no additional chairs. Her course of action is only natural, then.

"I could see you enduring the pain, you know." Shinobu picks up the syringe from the tray on her lap. "Here. This will help."

What follows the prick of the needle is a rush of soothing and welcome relief. The liquid injected into you can be nothing other than painkillers, one which the Corps regularly uses. You are familiar with it, but like the bitter medicinal scents, this is your first time appreciating it so greatly.

Without the constant bruising pressure of pain trying to force you into unconsciousness, you regain a measure of your mental faculties. With it brings to mind the pill the mysterious lady doctor had prescribed.

You test your motor skills. Satisfied at the lack of pain, you make to stand up.

"And where are you going?" Shinobu's pleasant voice instantly makes you plant your butt back onto the bed. "I'm not remotely finished. Are you so eager to get away?"

You want to mention you planned to go outside to bring her your pouch. It contains the strange medicine you received from the mysterious doctor, the fingernail sized pill with the same potency of the liquid she injected into your body. You had kept the last one in hopes she would be able to reverse engineer and replicate it.

"...I was just shifting my legs," you reply.

Shinobu might wear a smile, but it glints in the dim lighting of the infirmary like a partly sheathed blade. The sight of it dissuades you from saying anything stupid. And she would think you stupid, for going to an extreme length to preserve something you sorely needed.

Shinobu picks up the roll of bandages, and as her eyes search you for signs of bloodstains, you decide to save her the trouble. "My injuries were already taken care of. There is nothing to worry about."

"Based on what Fuji-sama mentioned, I doubt it."

"You weren't there. How would you know if I was wasn't lying?"

"My," Shinobu rebuts with a cutting laugh. "Then enlighten me. Are you lying or not?"

Your tongue finds itself in knots. You don't wish to worry her with the tale of how closely you came to dying or at the very least, becoming permanently crippled, but staying silent will prove your words wrong.

You choose to stay silent. It provokes another laugh from Shinobu. An unpleasant, bitter sound, like the scent of the herbs swirling the air.

"Your lack of an answer is one in itself." The expression she wears is similar to the one that night. Resignation, mixed with well-deserved anger. Seeing it nearly makes you spill everything. "You keep your secrets well, Kuroshio-san. Perhaps in another life, you could have been a shinobi."

You think to how slow you were to react to Wareta's wife pummelling you into the ground. "No more than I would turn out to be a competent slayer."

The fierceness in Shinobu's gaze falters a little at your self-deprecation. She fingers the roll of bandages. "There is nothing wrong with sustaining an injury in a fight with demons. In our line, it's even taken as a sign of strength. Hardiness."

That is certainly true. But if Shinobu knew your foe had been a starved demon trapped in a basement, she would sing a different tune. You are not the stone pillar, a powerful man of glorious feats, nor the sound, wind or water pillar, battle hardened and still yet to reach the pinnacle of their potential.

You are a Tsuchinoto. For good or bad, that rank defines you.

Before you can form a reply, Shinobu changes the subject masterfully. "Kuroshio-san, I didn't ask this before, but why aren't you in uniform?"

She pulls at the sleeve of your haori. The gesture surprises you a little, sparking an imagined sense of intimacy. You banish it with the image of Fuji when he'd done the same, moments earlier.

"It shames me to admit it, but it was stolen." Wareta not only stole your confidence, but your clothes, too. "It doesn't matter, though. I have spares in my room."

"I see. Well then," Shinobu looks at you expectantly. "Please take your robes off."

...

Your ample experience in controlling your expressions is what prevents your entire face from turning flaming red. "I decline." You make to stand up again, but the foot stepping yours keeps you in place.

"Doctor's orders," Shinobu says in a pleasant voice one can describe as singing. "Rest assured. You do not have anything I have not seen elsewhere."

"I know that. It is just..."

One of the few things you can be proud of is your body, and now, even that has been tainted. It is foolish, but to show what you deem ugly to a woman you're attracted to makes you worry of how she might judge you.

Admitting will bring you great shame. You saw the bite wound in the mirror at the doctor's home, and you think you know how women feel when their faces are injured.

"If I don't take a look now, I will see it eventually." Shinobu's patient tone just makes you more embarrassed for making a fuss.

Soundly defeated, you slip off your haori and undo the upper robes of your kimono. You don't shiver when you bare your chest to the cold air, the numbing effect of the injection having yet to recede.

"How do you want me to be?"

"See. Was that so hard, Kuroshio-san?" There is no teasing note to Shinobu's voice, and you are forced to acknowledge her professionalism. It is a relief. "From the way you act, one would almost think you were afraid. You don't have to be, you know? I'm not so brutish to hurt on purpose."

You sullenly rescind your opinion. Shinobu must see the agitation in your expression, because she gently pats your arm. "Now, now, you don't have to look so outraged."

If you were in a better state, and if the relationship between both of you hadn't reverted to estranged acquaintances, this would be a prime opportunity to probe if she's enjoying this. But you are not, and to wish it wasn't would be like attempting to bottle lightning.

You sigh. "I am not, I assure you." You hang your haori on the bed's wooden headboard. "Do I need to turn?"

"Of course. I cannot examine the extent of the damage without properly looking at you."

You turn to face her, your stomach contracting in anxiousness. You don't want to look at her directly, but you have no other choice. Staring over her head seems too offensive, and you're tired of doing such things.

"I don't see any injuries," Shinobu says after observing you. You don't know whether to feel relief or disappointment at her lack of reaction to your body.

"It's on my shoulder, though?"

It takes a glare from Shinobu for you to realize she's not able to see the top of your shoulders. You sheepishly mutter an apology and lean forward, eyes lowering to the bowl of cream in her hand. An antiseptic salve, perhaps.

With your head lowered, you do not see what kind of face she makes at the sight of the grisly bite mark. You wait for her analysis.

A full ten seconds pass, and still, Shinobu does not speak. To fill the awkward silence, you hasten to say, "It looks worse than it is. The doctor I found–" was dragged to, your mind unhelpfully supplies, "Removed the contamination left by the demon and sewed the rest together. He also made me take antibiotics. It was necessary, given how filthy demons can be, both literally and figuratively."

Fingers trace over the uneven, jagged scar tissue. When Shinobu speaks up, it is in a halting, confused tone. "So this wasn't done by those under to the Wisteria family. That is a relief. If their suturing skills were this pitiful, you might as well grab a child off the streets to assist you."

The result of your shoulder was the work of the old doctor and not your saviour. You were told the one on your back was so expertly cleaned and sewn that other than the scarring ringing the actual wound, there were no other blemishes. Hearing what Shinobu says though, you feel bad for the old man.

"He did his best given the circumstances and the condition I arrived in. It would have been far worse if he refused," you say.

"But if you did not go to a wisteria house for help... How could Fuji-sama have known you were injured?" There comes a pause that makes your heart thud thunderously loud. Her confusion is palpable, but already you can sense a certain fury in her next words that hints she is putting the pieces together.

"If I'd known Fuji-sama was this sort of person..." Shinobu's fingers glide across the bite wound, edging on the slope of your shoulder. "I would not have let him leave without bleeding, first."

"If were capable of it, I would do the same," you laugh wryly. "Splashing him with tea was more than enough, though. I will treasure that memory."

Shinobu doesn't share the same sentiment. You stiffen when you feel slim fingers under your chin. Gently, she raises your head until you lock gazes with her.

"And this was the man you thought was most fitting of me?"

The sorrow lurking within her eyes, tempered with irritation, drags out the words you'd buried inside you. They flow out of your mouth, unstoppable, but the sincerity you lace them with is unwavering.

"I regret everything I said that night. I'm sorry. If I were given the chance to do it over, I wouldn't even let myself think such ridiculous things. And also... even if Fuji was not such a terrible piece of work, it still wasn't my place to determine who you deserved to spend your life with."

That is your biggest regret. Putting aside your feelings for Shinobu, you had always thought you respected her. But what you said that fateful night ripped apart your self-serving veil. Like Fuji during his one-sided pursuit of her affection, you robbed Shinobu of her ability to make a choice for herself. You ignored her wishes, chose for her on your assumption you knew best.

"You regret it?" Shinobu sounds incredulous. Better than anger, you suppose.

"I do. I hope you can forgive me, but I understand if you don't want to." You're not so cynical you think she will continue holding the matter over your head. "I just ask to be allowed to remain in the mansion. I... your girls, I've grown too attached to start pretending they don't exist."

You begin to pull back, lifting your head. You are abruptly pulled down again, and this time, Shinobu's face is so close you feel her breath ghosting over your face.

"Hearing you say that... they don't sound like empty words."

Speechless with shock, you can only stare into her glowing, lilac eyes, the light from them brighter and more beguiling than any amount of riches can hope to match. You wonder if the painkillers have worn off. There is no other reason to explain why your body feel as if it were set on fire.

"They... they aren't. I don't know how to prove it, but I swear–"

"I was furious," Shinobu suddenly says, more emotional than you can every recall her being. "When you said those things that night, it made me think you couldn't be bothered to try. You simply rolled over for that man, and worse... you made yourself out be doing the right thing. You thought you were being kind, doing me a service, as if it was something I wanted!"

This anger is something you didn't think her capable of, a latent and crackling thing, nearly bestial in nature, erupting from her like scalding lava and scorching the earth it touches.

"I know now. It was my mistake to assume."

"I won't claim not to enjoy attention or being showered in gifts," Shinobu says. "But I am not so materialistic a person I would treasure such things over what matters. My girls, my sisters. They are my light. Good, innocent people, they drive me to get up in the morning and greet the world with a smile on my face when the only thing I wish for is to–" she cuts herself off. "I hate it. Being helpless."

Her chest heaves, her choppy breathing and raw vulnerability she has just displayed drawing you closer. There is a faint irony in that you are the insect being lured into her roaring, explosive flames.

"I'm a good merchant, but not much else," you say, once she gathers herself. "I'm a Kuroshio only in name. The family, they spurn my father, and me by extension. I don't lack money, but I lack enough to be of help to you."

"Pillars are paid handsomely." Her face is extraordinarily close. Her eyelashes flutter, devilishly dark and delicate butterfly wings. "What the organisation gives might not be enough, but my skills and my talents... I can earn whatever I should need, make it should I be forced to."

You swallow. "You don't need me."

"Wanting and needing someone are separate things."

Shinobu moves to stroke your face, her other hand coming to rest on your waist. You move on reflex. Your own hand covers hers, the one grasping at your cheek like you were snow that would melt from the heat of her touch.

"As a slayer, I–"

"I am the Insect Pillar," she says. "I can protect myself."

Shinobu has stripped you of all arguments. Laid bare, you face the truth you've always avoided, that you have nothing to offer her but yourself. You of middling strength, you of no next of kin, you, who might falter under the weight of what she could offer you.

This is what blinded you to step aside for Fuji when truly...

"I adore you," You finally admit. "To be a burden, not being able to provide what you may want, what you might need... it frightens me."

Your heartbeat is aching loud, you hear it in your ears and feel your blood pulsing at its rhythm.

You think you hear hers, too.

"People are born lacking. It is when they will themselves to continue living, that they might eventually gain something," Shinobu says. "But to do that... you first have to accept yourself for who you are now, not despair at who you've yet to become."

Shinobu is so close you can reach out to touch her. And when you marvel at the warmth of her skin, the curve of her lips that beckon you each time they part to draw air, you realize–

You can.

"Shinobu," you do not say her name reverently, but it sends a shudder through her body, trembling her fingers on your chin, and you push forward. "Push me away if you don't want me to kiss you."

You wait. Five seconds stretch into eternity, but then they become nothing at all when Shinobu graces you with her smile. You lean in, and when your lips press against hers a split second later, you realize she moved to meet you halfway.

Your mouth slants against hers, and you taste the bitter tea she brewed mixed with a hint of something tangy and sweet. You don't recognize that taste, but it reminds you of the wistfulness you feel when gazing upon a Wisteria tree, flowing purple tresses swaying in bloom.

You sink into the kiss. Her small hand which presses against your cheek, curls into your palm that covers it. When you feel her smile, you sigh into her mouth and she into yours. Exchanging that soothing hum of sound, you finally feel the need to resurface for air and pull back.

It is with great rapture that you watch her eyelids flutter open, so alike the delicate way a butterfly propels itself into the air with powdery wings. The blissful calm, an aftereffect of the kiss, begins to diffuse like a drop of ink in body of water.

Shinobu does not take back the hand laid upon your cheek. You remain in place, her brilliantly purple eyes fixed on you.

"And now," she says. "It is my turn to kiss you."

A butterfly perches upon a flower and unfurls its straw-like tongue to reach the sweet, hidden nectar.

You surrender yourself to her touch, and don't find yourself thinking for any length of time after that.

Chapter Text

There was blood on her hands.

The liquid was smooth and viscous, sliding between the valley of her fingers, defying gravity to arc across the back of her hand clutching Kanae’s shoulder. The body Shinobu held continued to draw breath, but the occasional shuddering exhale told her oxygen was the least of its problems.

It hit Shinobu this blood wasn’t just any blood, not from another slayer or an unlucky victim. It was her beloved sister’s blood. It was Kanae’s blood, and she could do nothing but watch as the last vestiges of her life bled out of her, drained like pus from a boil.  

Shinobu’s eyes pricked harshly. Fat globules of tears welled in the corner of her eyes, eyes that refused to leave Kanae’s pale face. This was a sick and cruel joke. Why was the face that held beaming with smiles for everyone in this godforsaken world stripped of its brilliance by the very creatures she had pitied?

Unfair. So unfair.

“Don’t die…” Shinobu knew it was worthless to beg, but she did it anyway. “Please, Kanae nee-san, don’t die. Don’t leave me!”

Kanae’s hand, which had been reaching toward her, wavered and began to fall. Shinobu caught it and pressed it clumsily into her face. It struck Shinobu then, how clammy her sister’s hand was.

Cold. Kanae’s hand was so cold. It didn’t feel right. Kanae had always been like the sun– filled with enough warmth to melt snow with a touch, an ever-humming heat source Shinobu cuddled into on bitter nights where winds howled and the shadows in their rooms grew long and demonic, a comforting heat that calmed her when she woke screaming from nightmares of their parents’ final moments.

“Shinobu… I know you’re working hard, and you really, really are.” A pause preceded the rasping cough that spurted blood onto the buttons on Shinobu’s uniform. Kanae’s eyes slid shut, pained. “But maybe you’d be better off if you gave up the sword.”

Shinobu shook her head. Tears ran down the sides of her face, painting twisted trails of regret that burned the skin it touched.

If only she’d arrived earlier, ran faster. Maybe this situation could have been avoided if she had insisted on coming along, even if it meant defying orders. Considering these what-ifs should have felt painful, but it paled in comparison to what her sister was going through.

“I just want you to obtain happiness like any normal girl would, and live until you turn really old.” Kanae’s fingers spasmed in a mimicry of her usual, gentle stroking. Shinobu heard her lungs contract and expand with a horrible pitched whine, then deflate like a waterskin with a large, ripped hole. “That’s… enough for me…”

“No!” Shinobu snapped. A pulsating anger, the fury of a thousand suns, turned her blood into flowing streams of hellfire. “No, I won’t ever quit!”

This stupid, tiny body which lacked the strength to cut off a demon’s head couldn’t even do something simple as saving Kanae. Shinobu’s grip on her sister’s hand tightened as she cursed herself into oblivion. She felt her mouth forming words, but it was a vague sensation which drowned under the horrifying fear of Kanae’s impending doom.  

“Shinobu…”

And then, she uttered single sentence that would be imprinted in her mind, a line that would resurface in her weaker moments, a soundtrack that played like a record in her dreams and nightmares.

“Kanae nee-san,” Shinobu bit out. “I can’t live a normal life after someone did this to you!”

From the remorseful look in Kanae’s lovely eyes, both sisters knew what she’d said was a promise. It didn’t matter if Kanae accepted it, but all the same, Shinobu would have lived bound by those words until the very end.

In light of this, Kanae knew there wasn’t much of a choice but to let her younger sister tighten the noose around her own neck. Staring up at Shinobu, her breaths coming out in heavy pants, Kanae finally told her.

“It was a demon with blood stains on the top of his head…”

Shinobu cradled her older sister, listening intently as the sun wrenched itself inch by inch into the brightening sky.  By the time the first rays of light hit them, Kanae was gone. And so, too, had Shinobu.

Shinobu set down the wet cloth she’d used to wipe her face and picked up her comb. It was a lovely object made of jade, a coming of age present her sister had given her years ago. The eye catching dark green colour would turn a dazzling light green when it caught light.

Shinobu ran the comb through her hair, tugging errant strands into obedience. She went through the motions, staring at her reflection in the mirror. The face staring back was older, but somehow, more delicate and fragile than when she was younger and baby-faced.

At least smiling, even when forced, Shinobu decided, helped to maintain the firmness of one’s face. It was unfortunate it didn't change how she felt on the inside, but that wasn’t something she cared about any longer. Like her appearance, the harsh and jagged corners of her old personality had been smoothed to fit her ever-present mask.  

Shinobu reached for the jewellery box sequestered at the corner of her vanity. Taking out her hairpin, she weighed it, balancing the winged decoration on the tip of her finger. Looking at it made unease prick at her, reminding her of the stark memory she’d dreamt up last night. She hesitated to name the feeling as betrayal, and yet…

Shinobu drew in a deep, cleansing breath. No, she would not think about this.

Shaking off her the clouds that settled over her, she set out to do her hair. The weight of the butterfly kanzashi was comforting, almost like how Kanae had used to pat her head whenever she stewed on a particularly difficult medicinal recipe. That thought evoked a genuine smile from Shinobu, though it disappeared when she caught sight of her reflection again.

This was one of those days, then. Shinobu stretched a hand to the mirror, wondering where Kanae began and ended. If she were a normal girl, unfettered by the maliciousness of this world, she would gladly spend the day sulking in the confines of her room and dedicate herself to forgetting. She wasn’t. She was the Insect Pillar of the Demon Slayer Corps, and she could do no such thing.

Shinobu glanced out of the square-grilled window, where the sun was just only rising. The dawning of a new day. She pushed herself off the seat and tested her smile until her reflection no longer looked like she was experiencing a conniption. When that was done, she pressed a hand over her stomach to silence its faint gurgling. Shinobu didn’t pay it much heed: it was normal reaction the morning after ingesting that concoction. Making sure everything was in order, she glided soundlessly across the room and stepped out.

She immediately found herself tackled. Shinobu bore the heavy, insistent weight with an easy smile and maintained her stance. “Oh dear, please excuse me.”

The kakushi who had run into her made a noise of pure fright. It would have been worrying if it wasn’t normal behaviour for those who worked here. “My sincerest apologies, Kocho-sama!” The woman leaped back, dropping to her knees to perform a deep bow. “It was completely my fault for being so careless!”

“Don’t worry, I know it was an accident. You’re in a rush, I take it new patients have arrived?”

The woman nodded hastily and stood when Shinobu gestured at her to do so. “Yes, Kocho-sama, three new slayers waiting in the wards right now. Kanzaki-san has already started cleaning the wounds of the one who was most heavily injured. It would be too hard on her to take care of all three in succession, so I’m going around to rope another kakushi into helping.”

“This is good timing,” Shinobu said. “I was just about to head over to help.” When the female kakushi gave another bow, spinning on her heel to return from where she came, Shinobu flashed forward and caught her wrist. “I am relieving you of your current duty. You must be tired after staying up the entire night, so please go to your room and rest.”

The woman slouched in embarrassment, hanging her head. It was rare for kakushi to commit a blunder, and running clumsily into someone definitely counted as a grievous error. She must’ve been exhausted to slip up, and in front of a high-ranking superior like herself.

Shinobu gave her shoulder a light pat. “You’re only human,” she asserted. “You deserve a break.”

“Thank you, Kocho-sama…”

Shinobu watched the kakushi slink away, unable to help but her bemused smile. She wouldn’t begrudge anyone for showing weakness. In this world, demons were the only ones incapable of something so simple. It was a matter of trade-offs, she supposed, because though humans would never have the invincibility of a demon, neither would a demon be capable of collaborating with another.

Shinobu tread the hallway in the direction of the ward. When she stepped inside the high ceilinged room, it was to a flurry of activity. Aoi was manoeuvring someone into the bed, her twin tails lightly swaying as she grunted from the exertion of shouldering a weight twice her own. The man’s upper half was bare and what looked to be fresh bandages were beginning to soak through with red. Two similarly stripped down slayers, sporting bruises and fresh cuts on their arms and face, waited quietly on a bench nearby.

Sumi and Kiyo weren’t up yet, leaving only Naho to tend to the remaining patients. Men and women in varying states rested in the individual beds in the mansion’s main ward, sufficiently large enough to accommodate anywhere between five to twenty people at once. The recovering patients alternated between sitting cross legged on their mattress or laying on their backs, but all were silent as they watched Aoi work expertly, their eyes sunken and shadowed.

Shinobu watched Aoi calm the bleeding man in a firm but coaxing voice as she cut away his bandages to check his wound. Naho meanwhile, bustled about with fluttering footsteps, clearing bedside tables of rubbish and checking if the medicine bowls were emptied.

Her girls’ faces were neutrally set, the only signs of exhaustion from their all-nighter visible as ringed eyebags. They had come a long way from when they’d first started assisting her. She could still remember how panicked and frazzled they were at the sight of a wound, how frequently they winced at their clumsy stitching. It was a common sight those days to see them bowing, apologizing profusely at the drop of a hat, or shrivelling at the scolding of slayers with bad attitudes.

Shinobu hoped Kanae was watching. Would her sister be proud at how far they had come? Or saddened that their childhoods had been tarnished so quickly?

Around different points of the room, candleholders housed tiny, dancing flames. The room was too dimly lit, Shinobu decided. She’d have to relight them before she started her work.

“Girls,” Shinobu called softly. Heads swivelled toward her. There was relieved joy in the gazes of Aoi and Naho, and awe in the patients, who were almost always uncomfortably keyed into her presence. “I’m here to help. Shall I get started?”

Their girlish voices resounded in a cry of, “Thank you, Shinobu-sama!”

Shinobu resurfaced from her state of flow hours later, coaxed by the golden glow of light spilling through the ward’s upper grilled windows. It dyed half the room in a pleasing colour and soaked it in a gentle heat, the slight warmth refreshing in this season’s cold weather.

However sparse, the sunlight brought about a good side effect, brightening the moods of the recovering patients. It was times like this which showcased the glaring difference between demons and humans. Creatures like them would never be able to glean such enjoyment from the sun, and humans would never be able to match them in prowling under the cover of night.

Shinobu lifted her head, watched drifting motes of dust settle on top of the medicine cabinet. Light reflected off the glass panels, casting a rainbow hue on the walls. A wave of melancholy smashed into her when she briefly caught a glimpse of her tired reflection

Another Autumn would pass without Kanae. Her favourite season had never been the same… not after her sister had gone to heaven. Shinobu lightly picked her hangnail and suppressed a sigh.

It wasn’t that spending it with Kanao and the rest wasn’t enjoyable– on the contrary, she was very much looking forward to when work slowed enough to afford her girls time to play around. It meant Aoi would insist on putting out the giant futon, already beaten and aired, where they would spend hours lazing under its warm duvet, legs brushing as they snacked and giggled over stories and gossip picked up from the nearby town.

Shinobu treasured the bond with her butterfly girls, but it was just different with Kanae. Without her older sister, there could be no playful cuddling, mock fights over stealing sips of each other’s tea, chomping messily on rice crackers while complaining loudly about the sheer volume of work that awaited them once work resumed.

As with the smiles she wore, mothering everyone in her mansion meant she’d erected a line she could never cross. Acting spoilt, like she’d done with Kanae, was simply impossible without subverting her position among them.

Shinobu silently refilled a patient’s medicine bowl with his last dosage. She mentally noted to block out a time in the next few days to remove his stitches. There was definitely a shortage of Slayers on the field with how many injured were staying here. If his wounds had healed, he could resume his duties and alleviate the burden of those who were still fighting.

“T-Thank you, Kocho-sama,” the man simpered as he received the bowl with eager hands. Shinobu smiled and dipped her head. She placidly noted the blush that crawled up his neck, then returned to the medicine cabinet where the mess from this morning’s harried procedures awaited her.

Yellowed bandages were piled with broken syringes to be thrown, and the bitter scents of creams and medicine mixtures had mixed into a nearly eyewatering stench.  Shinobu pursed her lips. This was the part she liked the least. It was unfortunate the next batch of kakushi had yet to arrive for ward duty. Leaving this for them to clean up would be throwing her weight around, so she resigned herself to the arduous task of tidying up and disinfecting the surfaces.

Shinobu glanced at the western timepiece, a square block of flattened metal which hung ticking above the doorway. Noting the time, she quickened her movements. Her special patient should be up by now for his next prescription of medicine, and it wouldn’t do to be late. She breezed through clean-up and when her helpers arrived, hurried to pick up the required drugs from the infirmary.

In the end… Shinobu needn’t have worried.

Sliding the door shut, Shinobu eyed the sole occupant of the room with a flash of amusement. “He must have been more exhausted then he let on. Well, given the state he returned in… I shouldn’t be surprised.”

Unaware of her analytical gaze, Ryuu Kuroshio dozed on his futon, dead to the world. His blanket was bunched between his hands, clutched against his chest like a shield. His exposed ankles trembled as cool air trickled in from the gaps in the open window, and Shinobu shook her head. He must’ve opened it sometime after she had left.

“Stubborn,” Shinobu muttered, then winced as the peaceful silence of the room was punctured by a particularly heavy exhale.

She slid the door shut behind her and stepped deeper inside. She set the metal tray down on the knee high table, a beautiful piece of craftsmanship like a sore thumb amidst the plainness of the room, careful to prevent the liquid from sloshing out of the bowl.

This room was among the few which Kanae had converted into private wards for fellow Pillars. It wasn’t officially mandated and was one of her sister’s whimsies, but Shinobu remembered agreeing to it when it’d been proposed. In hindsight, she had been right to go along. Now that she was one of them, Shinobu knew the prickly natures of the other Pillars warranted isolating them for treatment.

Shinobu gazed around the room, shaking her head at the slight peels in wallpaper, the yellowing edges where paper paste had long dissolved. She knew Kanae had done it with good intentions, but only Shinazugawa had ever deigned to stay in the mansion for longer than several days. Pillars were stubborn, some nearly fanatical in desire to be alone. It wasn’t surprising they preferred licking their wounds in their own territories. It was unfortunate how rarely these rooms saw use.

Shinobu kept her footsteps light as she treaded the tatami, crossing the room to kneel beside Ryuu’s futon. Her hand swept her patterned haori out from under her when she sat, gazing quietly at him. Her attention shifted from the bandages on his shoulder– white gauze peeking out from his top.

Recalling the condition of that wound, Shinobu’s expression grew thunderous. If he hadn’t killed the demon she would have tracked it down to deliver it a dose of slow acting death.

When Ryuu shifted, his body turning on its side to face her, Shinobu’s gaze inadvertently drifted to his lips. She blanched as her heartbeat quickened, thumping so loudly it was almost as if the vibrations had travelled down to her fingertips.

“How have you gotten me to react like this, I wonder…” she said, her voice dropping to a confused whisper. She pressed the back of her hand to her cheeks, and removed it when she had confirmed they were flushed with warmth.

Shinobu could still recall that moment he’d peered at her, his eyes tinting grey-blue in the wane light of the infirmary. The anxiety in them lent him a strange fragility, and her hand had moved without her knowing, reaching out to stroke his face. By the time she felt his skin beneath her fingertips, it’d been too late. She hadn’t wanted to let him go.

Thinking on that moment now, Shinobu marvelled at how little control she exerted over her impulses. But she didn’t regret it. Ryuu had looked like he would fold into himself and disappear if she did nothing, and that was one thing Shinobu refused to let happen. How many people had been lost because she’d done nothing?

Her other hand hovered over his head. The urge to thread her fingers through his hair was almost overwhelming. The singular reason she hadn’t given in was the etiquette her parents had drilled into her, lessons from when her life’s difficulties were skewed towards what kimono to wear and what book to read that day.

The voices of one of her teachers, a severe looking woman who her mother hadn’t really liked, rang out.

“To touch someone, especially a man, is a violation of the code of conduct for a woman. Never should you do it, not even when you’re knocking on death’s door.”

Shinobu’s hand stilled. Slowly, it began to retreat. Then Kanae’s face appeared in her mind’s eye and she stalled the movement of her arm, before forcing it forward.

That’s right. How could she have forgotten?

What use was there to care how life outside of the Corps? She had already skirted many of its rules. Adding another to her list was even easier than poisoning a demon to death.

Her fingers sank into Ryuu’s dark chestnut coloured hair. Her first thought was that it was softer than it looked. Pointless, given she’d already discovered this when she caught his lips for their second kiss. Today was different from yesterday, however, in that she had a better awareness to appreciate its wavy texture.

Shinobu took her time now, carding his fringe with the gentlest of movements. It was soft indeed, feeling closer to waxed string than threads of silk. As she continued to tousle his hair, her embarrassment was replaced by a strange sort of contentment.

She should pull back before he woke up, else, what could she say to defend herself without appearing like a silly, lovelorn woman?

Shinobu was confident she wasn’t. In love with Ryuu, that was. That was a word too strong and heavy with implications, and the breadth of the emotion she felt was closer to like than any kind of definition of love she knew of.

This fact was surprising in itself. If someone had posed a question now, about her feelings for him, she would admit without fudging words that she liked him. She was fond of him, in a way which she hadn’t felt before this, not even with the few men she’d appreciated for their looks and personality. She’d realized it that night, when Ryuu’s careless words struck her like a raging tidal wave smashing rock.

And given how she had pined after him after he’d left… Shinobu grimaced. The Insect Pillar, reduced to a confused pile of hormones. The demons she’d sent to hell would be aghast.

The head beneath her hands stirred. Ryuu grunted, the sound thickened by the roughness of sleep. Shinobu looked down, unable to stop the smile from pulling at her mouth. He was waking up.

Chapter Text

Shinobu had wanted to leave her fingers tangled in Ryuu’s hair to see how he would react. It was unfortunate, then, that he rolled over to lay on his back as he clawed his way into consciousness. Shinobu’s hand retreated, settling back in her lap. Her fingers curled, itching with disappointment.   

“Hn–” Ryuu’s body tensed and gradually unwound itself once his sleep fogged mind made sense of his location. A yawn slipped out of his mouth, and Shinobu caught his wince when he lifted his hand in reflex. He abandoned the motion to cover his mouth, muttering, “Ow... that goddamn hurts.”

“Does it still?” Ryuu went comically frozen. His neck creaked when his head whipped to face her. “Good afternoon. I was starting to wonder when you would wake up.” Shinobu noted how she sounded more affectionate than she’d planned. It couldn’t be helped, the open embarrassment on his face was too satisfying not to react to. 

Ryuu jerked upright. “Shinobu! How long were you sitting here?” A wide eyed look crossed his face. “Not that I’m unhappy to see you. It’s just… it must have been boring, sitting here, watching me sleep.”

Shinobu’s head dipped, and she stared at the hand on her lap. “Not at all,” she said, watching her fingers curl. “I was able to keep myself occupied. I didn’t mind waiting if it mean you’d have more rest.”

“That’s– that’s good.” 

There was disbelief in his voice, and Shinobu bemoaned how he’d unwittingly ruined her chance to tease him. “How are you feeling? Are your injuries giving you trouble aside from slight aches?” 

At his lack of a response, Shinobu lifted her head to look at him. Laughter bubbled out of her at what she saw, Ryuu scrambling to make himself presentable. He was raking his fingers through his hair in misguided attempts to flatten his bedhead, and frantically pulled on the overlapping cloth of his jinbei top to cover the v-shaped window that showed off a sliver of bare skin. The way he tried not to look at her as he groomed himself simply made her more amused.   

Why he was reacting as if she had walked into him naked, Shinobu had no idea. She wouldn’t voice it, but she found herself tickled with endearment. Clearing her throat, she called, “Ryuu-san? Hellooo, Ryuu-san?” 

His panicked motions stopped short. “Yes, Shinobu?” He coughed awkwardly into one hand. “I mean, yes, Shinobu-san?” One of his hands was splayed on top of his knee, while the other was curled into a fist that rested outside his thigh, twitching at intervals. Ryuu had just woken up, and already he was overthinking things. She was going to have to rectify that. 

“There is no reason to panic, Ryuu-san. I don’t judge my patients for waking up looking half-delirious since it is not something they can control,” she said. 
When his mouth curved in a mock scowl, Shinobu reached over and placed her hand atop his. She smiled unabashedly at how he jolted. “Though out of everyone I’ve laid eyes on, I’ll admit you’re the most adorable.” 

Ryuu sputtered wordlessly for several seconds, then stared at their combined hands. “Do you tease everyone like this or am I the exception?” he asked, his expression conflicted.  

Shinobu pulled back, noting the disappointment that crossed his face when she let go of him. “I wouldn’t do this if I did not enjoy it.” She shuffled closer, moving until their bodies were a finger’s width apart. The hesitance in his frame melted away when she leaned gently against his arm, bearing her weight on his good shoulder. “And it’s not like I would do the same for just anyone.”  

“Oh… and here I was, thinking it’s the norm for you to kiss your patients,” he replied. 

Shinobu tilted her head to glare up at him, noting how his previous bashfulness had been replaced by an air of mischief. He grinned at her, his one eyebrow raised. 

Damn. She’d played right into his hands. Shinobu rolled her eyes, grudgingly acquiescing to his victory. Without looking, she returned her hand to its position on top of his. “How sly. You’re full of surprises, Ryuu-san.” 

“This merchant will gladly accept your compliment.” He trembled with suppressed laughter. She huffed and wriggled her fingers, squirming them to fit snugly into the small valleys between his own. She heard his breathing stutter, followed by a sharp intake of air. He obviously hadn’t expected her to act so bold. 

Shinobu inwardly giggled. That had been an opening jab, he hadn’t seen anything yet. Feeling his weight shift, she took the opportunity to speak. “Well, mister merchant. Wouldn’t you agree that it’s time we dropped the honorifics?” When Ryuu didn’t immediately answer, she continued, “Considering what we did, continuing to observe formalities seems a little ridiculous. I’d prefer if you stopped acting distant and call me by my first name.” 

Shinobu felt a spark of anticipation as she concluded her words. Thinking about her name rolling off his tongue, she found herself strangely pleased. Maintaining this level of intimacy between them was fine with her.

“Before that, Shinobu-san. There is something I want to clarify.” 

Shinobu blinked, baffled by his lukewarm response. Hmm? This reaction, mild and controlled, had completely upended her expectations. She thought he would jump at the chance, acknowledge her request with an energetic exclamation. 

Shinobu had a premonition she wasn’t going to like what came next. “I’m listening.” 

“I won’t mince words,” he said. “I want to clarify what is happening between us.”  

“What for?” Shinobu winced at her hasty reply. It was too swift, too careless for such a loaded question. Not to mention how rude it was to Ryuu, who had likely deliberated over bringing it up in the first place. She hadn’t meant to react so harshly, and her guilt worsened when Ryuu continued to speak, pacing his words as if she hadn’t just spit on his good intentions. 

“I’m not demanding you agree to talk to me, but as you said, given what we did, it’s inevitable for the relationship between us to change. Changed in what way, I’m not sure, but I want to reaffirm my feelings. I wasn’t lying when I said I adored you, and I’d admit… I thought you felt the same.” Because she had coaxed him into kissing her, was left unspoken. “But then. The way you acted before you left…”

Aside from the brief stumble over the mention of what they shared in the infirmary, his words flowed easily and without a hint of an accusation.
 
“To be blunt about it,” Ryuu said when she remained silent. “You were obviously upset. Shinobu-san, it’s not that I wish to make you uncomfortable by bringing the matter up again… it’s just, ignoring it will simply make things worse further down the line, especially when I know it involves me.”

Shinobu shifted uncomfortably in the heavy silence that had dropped over them. This was a side of Ryuu she hadn’t seen before, not when he typically acted friendly, but deferential in her presence. He displayed a cutting determination to find an answer, and it was a stark contrast with her memory of him reluctantly praising Fuji’s pitiful advantages over him. 

“I know you mean well,” Shinobu answered softly. “But what if I said talking about it is unnecessary?” Though her words did not confirm or deny, she knew he would catch her meaning.  

“I don’t want to assume, which is why I decided to ask.” Ryuu jutted his chin towards their clasped hands. “My first thought after you left was that you regretted what happened. But then I woke up to you flirting, rather blatantly if I might add.” When he sighed, she felt his entire body deflate. “Shinobu-san… can we talk about this? Openly and honestly?” 

Shinobu recalled yesterday’s events. After she had brought him to this private room, she’d left him to change into his sleepwear before going off to prepare a sleeping drought. When she returned, she’d made him get into the futon and drink the concoction to get some rest. As she watched his throat bob, choking down the bitter mixture, her promise to Kanae had come rushing back. 

And with it, came an overwhelming rush of betrayal. 

Thinking about her sister, Shinobu’s stomach churned. Last night’s nightmare, a fragment of memory she’d wished never happened, seized the opportunity to resurface. She gently shoved away from Ryuu, relieving his shoulder of her weight and moving back until she was far enough to see the entirety of his face. 

Ryuu gazed back, his expression patient. Shinobu could tell it wasn’t an act. He was devoid of the usual signs of restraint she’d learned to pick out in men who tried, and had ultimately failed, to impress her. He didn’t attempt to project a vision of a saint or someone all-knowing. He simply waited, sitting there as he watched her gather her thoughts together. 

Shinobu couldn’t help but marvel at his relaxed slant to his jaw, and how the defined features of his face, that held the same potential for severity as Tomioka or Shinazugawa, was pleasurably softened by a well-mannered smile. That was the most dangerous aspect, his smile. It wasn’t overly exuberant and was polite enough not to cross the line into manufactured eagerness, exuding charming friendliness that put anyone who looked at him at ease. 

Shinobu knew it was true she liked him– she wouldn’t have encouraged him to kiss her otherwise. She’d even gone as far as to initiate the second, and it had been a test of discipline not to steal a third. But when she’d thought of Kanae, lying broken and bleeding for a world who didn’t deserve her, Shinobu had been dragged back to reality.

They were Demon Slayers. Pursuing the normalcy of civilian life, relishing in the intimacy of a relationship and the things it brought– that was impossible. In the face of this realization, Shinobu had ran. Ryuu had watched with confusion as she abruptly declared she was exhausted and fled the room with a promise to return the next day. 

After that, she’d stayed cooped up in the room trying to convince herself that their kiss meant nothing, simply an exchange of saliva, a moment lost to lust in the face of a potential mate. Shinobu had studied the human body extensively, something like giving in to her hormonal impulses made for a suitable explanation. Then Aoi and the girls returned, and she busied herself with her regular duties until she retired to bed. 

Despite sitting a slight distance from him, Shinobu’s hand stayed intertwined with his. Ryuu was silent as he watched her, his eyes gleaming in the faint sunlight that spilled through the gap in the window beside him. Shinobu traced the contours of his face, wandering past the bridge of his nose until her eyes reached the curves outlining his lips. 

They had been slightly swollen after separating from their second kiss. She recalled the dazed look in his eyes, how she thumbed the lipstick mark she’d left at the corner of his mouth. Indeed, kissing him was not cause for grief. 

Shinobu heaved a sigh. She’d been silent for long enough, and he deserved an answer even if it was an incomplete one. “Let’s talk, then. I agree that this isn’t something we can avoid forever.” She hesitated, then added. “I used to know how to be unflinchingly honest. I’ve fallen out of touch with that skill in recent years, due to certain circumstances. I hope that you’ll bear with me if I can’t tell you the exact nature of my thoughts.”

They would frighten you, Shinobu didn’t say. A mind like hers, fixated on revenge… the things it could conjure up would kill the daydreams of anyone who coveted her. 

“Everyone is entitled to their own secrets. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. That you’re willing to try to speak your mind is more than enough for me,” Ryuu said. 

In the wake of the silence that followed, he cleared his throat and spoke up again. “The main issue I wanted to address is how we should approach this. Our… our relationship.” His calm expression warped into something mortified. “Please stop me if you think I’m crossing any lines. I want to be truthful, not indelicate.” 

“Your words won’t hurt me.” Shinobu tossed him a look. “Although… hm, it feels as if you’ve done this before. Have you broken many hearts, Ryuu-san?” 

“I hate to disappoint you, but no.” Ryuu’s face resembled the tomatoes Aoi had grown in the backyard in early this Summer. “I haven’t… I mean, I’m completely new to this sort of thing. Moonlighting as a Slayer while running multiple businesses leaves me with little time for myself.” 

“What do you mean, ‘this sort of thing’?” The tension in her shoulders drained when she felt how his hand had grown slick with sweat. “You should be more specific or risk leaving me with wrong ideas.”

Ryuu glared at her. It wasn’t very intimidating. Battling with flesh eating demons who could warp their features into grotesque abominations made withstanding his sulk hilariously easy, not to mention the amount of blood and ruined flesh she handled on a daily basis. 

“Well?” Shinobu continued to feign ignorance. “I would appreciate if you clarified what you meant.”  

Ryuu slumped. “Romance. I was referring to romance, Shinobu-san.” His head hung low, though it perked when she gave his hand a squeeze. She ignored the tingling that shot up her arm when he squeezed back. “You are the first woman I’ve… you know.” 

“I’m glad to hear that. Similarly, my suitors have never gotten as far as you have,” Shinobu winked.

“That aside,” Ryuu hastened to change the subject. “I want to know… are you open to accepting my courtship? This isn’t a formal proposal that will lead to marriage, so please don’t misunderstand. I’m not arrogant enough to lock you in an agreement.” Shinobu could read the self-deprecation in the smile he directed at her. “The lifespan of Slayers are known to be quite short, after all.”

“That is putting it mildly,” Shinobu said. “We could die at a moment’s notice. In that case, there’s no reason to pursue something as sanctimonious as marriage, don’t you agree? There is nothing wrong with living by oneself. We enter this world alone, and we will leave it the same way.”

“I’m surprised. I didn’t take you for such a cynic, Shinobu-san.”

“You don’t know me very well, Ryuu.” At his surprised look, she gave him a grim smile. “Work in the Corps as long as I have, and you will eventually come to think the same.” Shinobu shrugged. Kanae had always been the optimistic one. She had always been the overcast cloud heavy with rain. 

“My stance might change, but it also might not.”

“My, my. You’re obstinate. I don’t quite understand. Isn’t it a waste of time to court me when you could be spending your precious time on better, more worthy things?”

“I recall a certain someone saying wanting and needing someone aren’t mutually exclusive.” Ryuu’s eyes curved into crescents when she let out a muted sigh of exasperation, mixed with embarrassment. She’d spouted plenty of nonsense in the heat of the moment, but it wasn’t as if she could take them back. “I agree with her. You are someone I want, Shinobu.” His cheeks pinked. “What do… what do you think about me?” 

“I like you.” Shinobu was gratified by the way his eyes blew wide at her statement. “But I am not confident in our chances.” His elated expression was immediately marred by a wince. “I spoke too hastily before and neglected to take into account how our differences might eventually open a rift between us. As the Insect Pillar, I have responsibilities and goals of my own, and I don’t doubt you have yours, too.”

Shinobu wondered why was she so adamant to turn him away after the trouble she’d gone through to reveal his heart to her. Perhaps… Shinobu’s heart thundered. Perhaps it was because she’d finally realized, that once she took this step… there would be no going back. 

“Thinking about those things now is pointless. It’s inevitable to run into obstacles. The most important things is… are you willing to try?” Ryuu asked, cutting straight into the heart of the issue. Shinobu’s free hand fisted her haori, rumpling the silky, waterproof material. 

“I…”

“I was afraid of being a burden. I still am, and I’m frightened of many things, including my less than stellar ability to do battle with demons,” he said. “But you opened my eyes. Even if it wasn’t your intention, you helped me realize it was acceptable to feel that way.” Ryuu drew his hand out of hers, then brought both together to engulf her tiny hand. “We have time to change. To grow. I don’t know what will happen between us, if this turns out to be a mistake or not, but...” 

He was leaning in, Shinobu distantly realized. “But?”

“But I want to try, anyway.” 

Ryuu’s face stopped just a breath away, hovering above hers. Her heart thumped. Her breaths turned erratic. Her pulse jumped as she stared into his clear and hopeful eyes. His voice held the same strength from when he spoke about the victory of a human. That when Slayers continued to live, even under the shadow of demons, they had undoubtedly won. Living to the fullest could not be considered anything other than victory.  

Shinobu thought of the recipes hidden in the secret compartment of her vanity and the latest piece she’d drafted. Last night’s concoction had been probably been absorbed by the lining of her stomach by now, each pulse of her heart transmitting wisteria-laden toxins through her bloodstream. Death thrived in her veins. 

Shinobu looked at Ryuu, bursting with life. 

Could she… could she maybe share in some of that optimism herself?

Shinobu’s body made the decision for her. She closed the distance and kissed him, his familiar warmth pressed solidly against her mouth. The feeling quieted the voice in the back of her mind, warning her of the gravest mistake she was about to make in this lifetime. 

“Alright,” she said. “We can try. Court me however you want, Ryuu.”

Ryuu beamed. Instead of pulling back completely or diving in to capture her lips for another kiss, he gently rested his forehead against hers. He didn’t need to speak for her to know what he was feeling. And for once, the smile on her lips was an accurate reflection of what she felt on the inside.