Chapter Text
⠀⠀⠀As the late evening dusk breaks over the Shinazugawa estate, the crickets play in a soft melody, calm and gentle as the breeze that washes over the lone form that departs from the estate.
⠀⠀⠀It is when she hears the shouting, she stops in her tracks, turning to wait beside a large tree that guards it’s entrance.
⠀⠀⠀When the shouting subsides, another figure crosses the engawa, fleeing the estate as he overflows with a strong emotion, powerful enough to be sensed from this far away.
⠀⠀⠀She abandons her post, standing beside a tree, to pass towards the entrance, standing in the middle of the road awaiting the one that comes towards her.
⠀⠀⠀His strides slow to a stop, 25 meters or so between them, and, he seems confused. Hesitant, even. Though, unwilling to approach.
⠀⠀⠀She cannot describe his form nor figure, only his presence. Overwhelming emotion boils over a small pot, far too familiar to a certain Hashira she’s met in passing and, even without her sight, she can ascertain exactly who he is.
⠀⠀⠀On the other hand, Genya has stopped in the middle of the road, a woman standing stark still some ways in front of him.
⠀⠀⠀She is strangely beautiful, wearing the uniform of a travelling temple priestess. A white kosode layered under a white hakui. All tucked into a long pair of red hakama pants. What struck him as the most odd, though, was the red fabric wrapped around her head, covering her eyes almost in the same sense as a blindfold.
⠀⠀⠀Still, she stands, in the middle of the road. She blocks Genya’s path with a soft smile and, for a moment, he wonders if she’s a demon.
⠀⠀⠀After a silence, she bows her head, taking a few strides to quickly close the gap between them, though she does not tilt her head to eye level with the boy’s shorter form. Offering him a friendly smile.
⠀⠀⠀“My apologies, I couldn’t help but notice you leaving the Shinazugawa estate. Of the wind Hashira?” She cocks her head carefully to the side, her brows knit together under the blindfold, “I’m travelling between two estates at the moment and I’m not supposed to travel alone at night. Could you accompany me, young man?”
⠀⠀⠀Initially, Genya is caught off guard by the lilt to her voice, soft and melodic. However, as typical of a Shinazugawa, she’s come to learn, he barks a response, “Seriously? How’d you even get here in the first place?”
⠀⠀⠀She chuckles softly, “I walked during the daylight.” Hiding her smile behind her hand before she adds, “I’m on my way to my home temple. I’ll promise payment.”
⠀⠀⠀Genya grunts at her lack of reaction, moving to stand beside her as she turns on her heel, a soft smile gracing her lips as she leads the way.
⠀⠀⠀After some time during the walk back, he’s not entirely sure why she needed him.
⠀⠀⠀No demons seemed to be along the way, no other travellers venture at night, and, come to think of it, if she’s blindfolded, how is she leading the way?
⠀⠀⠀Its a silly question for him to ask as they’re well over halfway through their journey. If she were secretly a demon in disguise, she would’ve killed him by now. Instead of killing him, she walks silently, her steps even and guided as if she’d walked this road a million times.
⠀⠀⠀It’s when the early dawn breaks that the two finally arrive at another building, this one a temple seemingly resting on the edge of a deep forest, not too far from a town but a bit higher in the mountain. It was dead silent in the early morning, not even the birds had awoken to beckon and call, yet.
⠀⠀⠀As they crossed the threshold, past the wall that protected the grounds and guided them into safety, movement began at the corner of Genya’s eyes. When he turned suddenly to look, he caught only the glimpse of cats. Several cats who slept in a pile, a couple of them waking up and stretching— one small one didn’t even hesitate to trot over to the woman before him, brushing against her ankle.
⠀⠀⠀“Ah, good morning, littlest one.” She chuckled softly, her hands reaching for the blindfold over her eyes as she softly tugged it down, over her face until it rest around her neck. Her head turned down as she stopped, stooping to scoop up the small cat within her arms, “Someone’s up early.”
⠀⠀⠀She turned to see Genya, for the first time, taking in the young boy’s form— the short hair, shorn closely around his head, sharp, yet, curious eyes, filled with an anger. A jagged scar runs across the right of his face, beginning on his cheek and ending on the opposite side of his nose. Young.
⠀⠀⠀She smiles softly to him, beckoning him to follow her as she lets the cat in her arms leap away, beginning to continue her walk into the temple-like estate.
⠀⠀⠀“You’re probably hungry, aren’t you? I’ll be making breakfast, soon, if you’ll stay.” She sweeps into a building, holding the door open for the young boy to follow, who simply grinds his teeth as he does.
⠀⠀⠀“Yeah, I guess. Who are you, exactly?” This boy is bold and brash, not unlike his brother. Though, they don’t share much of a resemblance, at first glance. She can see it within his face, though.
⠀⠀⠀She hums a soft song as she moves through this kitchen-like area, “A priestess of the temple.” Is her only reply. She grabs a small knife, beginning to chop carrots as she returns to her soft song.
⠀⠀⠀Genya has nothing to do, his hands unoccupied. So, he wanders the kitchen. Fruits and vegetables, all seasonal things. No meat. A collection of fresh bamboo shoots. He glances over his shoulder, “Are you a vegetarian?”
⠀⠀⠀“No,” she answers simply. While he waits for an explanation, she returns to her soft humming. No explanation.
⠀⠀⠀Another idle lap around the kitchen, having seen everything he can, he finds himself at the woman’s side. Still, she chops carrots. It’s a lot of carrots. He cocks his head, “Can I… do something?”
⠀⠀⠀“What ‘something’?” She asks, glancing down at him, a coy smile to her face.
⠀⠀⠀He huffs, “Can I… cut the carrots?” At the admission, she offers him the knife, stepping aside from her carrots.
⠀⠀⠀“If you could cut these, I’d appreciate the help.” She smiles softly as he takes the knife, “We’ll need a lot.”
⠀⠀⠀“Why?” He asks, already beginning to copy the movements she was doing before.
⠀⠀⠀The woman sweeps around the kitchen, now working on something else as she grabs a large bag of rice, “The less fortunate people of the town will need something to eat. And the lord of the temple is a large man— if we do not make enough for the people, he will go hungry. We cannot have him go hungry.”
⠀⠀⠀She dumps the large bag of rice into a pot, mixing in water and rinsing the rice as Genya falls silent. This woman speaks in a light, wondrous tone as if she were merely a woman in a fairytale. Which, to be honest, Genya can decide she’s pretty enough to be a woman in a fairytale. She doesn’t seem like a priestess, aside from her clothes.
⠀⠀⠀So, Genya cuts the carrots.
⠀⠀⠀The woman looks as if she floats around the kitchen, all sorts of tasks to be done as she easily walks from spot to spot. Something about the easy way she walks, the wide pants she wears flowing behind her, her hair done so simply and easily… something is far more strange about her.
⠀⠀⠀She doesn’t openly address Genya unless he says something first, except, of course, when she’s decided he’s cut enough carrots. Then she thanks him and asks if he’d like to cut the cucumber, too.
⠀⠀⠀So, Genya cuts the cucumbers.
⠀⠀⠀It takes him a little while to realize what she’s doing (while he cuts the cucumbers, because he has a hard time watching her and cutting the cucumbers at the same time) as she waltzes around the kitchen, humming to herself.
⠀⠀⠀She’s cooking rice in one pot. In another pot, she boils konbu, chops scallions and tofu and seaweed, and, when the soup base is done boiling, she adds it all to a large pot with miso paste. And, finally, she chops mushrooms and bamboo sprouts, lots of them. At a very quick pace.
⠀⠀⠀By the time Genya is done with the cucumbers, the rice is finished, the miso soup having cooled, and she wipes at her brow with the back of her hand, a happy sigh.
⠀⠀⠀“Wonderful job, Genya, thank you.” She offers him a bright smile, which, he shrugs in return to, turning away to hide the warmth of his cheeks. She opens a cabinet and begins pulling bowls out. Just a few, “The people of the town will be here soon and we’re already done!” She sets the bowls on the counter, grabbing a few pairs of chopsticks and some chirirenge— ceramic soup spoons— and tucks them into the pleats of her pants, presumably into pockets.
⠀⠀⠀“Why bother helping them? Do they pay you?” He asks, which, she simply shakes her head to. He’s sure she wont reply until she speaks up a moment later.
⠀⠀⠀“I help them because someone helped me. And, someday, they’ll help someone, too.” She glances towards him, shrugging softly, “You’ve helped me today! So, I’ll continue to help someone tomorrow. And they’ll help someone the day after tomorrow. And so on. And, if we all help eachother, the world is a better place.”
⠀⠀⠀He’s not sure if she’s smart or stupid.
⠀⠀⠀But he watches the woman (who is certainly smaller than his brother) lift a pot that is larger than he is and filled to the brim with rice, “Could you grab the vegetables for me? We need to take this out front.”
⠀⠀⠀So, Genya grabs the carrots and cucumbers he chopped, along with the other vegetables and bamboo that she set along side them on a wide board. He follows her out until she finds a wooden table, setting the pot of rice on it and saying, “I need to get the Miso soup, wait right here!” Before sweeping back inside.
⠀⠀⠀As he waits, he already sees the townsfolk coming up the mountainside to the temple. They draw nearer to his location, and, for a moment, he’s concerned they’ll steal the food. Should he get the priestess?
⠀⠀⠀Instead, they line up beside him. Each one carries three bowls. The man that lines up first looks Genya over curiously, his brow furrowed.
⠀⠀⠀“What?” Genya asks, a bit harshly.
⠀⠀⠀The man looks between his face and his hands, “Did you forget your bowls, son?” When Genya doesn’t answer, he offers a bowl to Genya, which Genya stares at. The old woman behind him takes notice.
⠀⠀⠀“Oh dear, did you forget your bowls?” She asks, and, in the same way, hands a bowl to the first man, who stacks it inside his own before another one comes up his way. Three bowls in the stack, and, judging from their movements, a fourth is making it’s way up the line to replace the man’s third bowl.
⠀⠀⠀At this moment, the priestess returns with the pot of soup, greeting everyone. Many chime back and greet her by a name. A name, Genya supposes, is her name. She sets the pot of Miso soup down and turns to the commotion in the line.
⠀⠀⠀Now, however, when she turns to Genya and the townspeople, the blindfold that rest around her neck is now set back around her eyes. She cocks her head, “Is something wrong, Mister Yu?”
⠀⠀⠀“It seems this boy has forgotten his bowls, my dear.” The old man informs her.
⠀⠀⠀Melodically, she laughs, “I see! Thank you all for your generosity, but this boy is helping me out today. His bowls are in the kitchen with mine.”
⠀⠀⠀People make noises of realization, nodding as the bowls get passed back to their original owners and the man at the front of the line— Mister Yu— smiles, “How generous! Such a wonderful young boy.”
⠀⠀⠀“Isn’t he just?” She smiles brightly, holding her hand out.
⠀⠀⠀The man hands her his first bowl, which she fills with rice and hands back. Next, he hands her his second bowl, which she fills with the chopped vegetables and hands back. And, finally, he hands her his third bowl, which she fills with miso soup, makes sure that he has set the second bowl carefully atop the first, and hands the third back to him. Once the man has the bowls of food, he thanks her profusely, steps out of line, and bows his head to the statue of the Buddha not too far away, and takes his leave.
⠀⠀⠀Genya watches the priestess repeat this process for every person in the line. He loses count, but, still, he’s impressed. And, at one point, he stands by the chopped vegetables and helps dish them out. People thank him profusely as they pass him by— people of all ages. Old men and women who cannot walk well without eachother’s help, young and single parents with their children beside them, even a few teenagers who seem to be alone.
⠀⠀⠀When the line dwindles down to the last few people, the woman dishes out larger portions, filling their bowls to the brims and offering them warm smiles, thanking them for their patience. They, in turn, thank her profusely.
⠀⠀⠀Once the line is emptied, the final people retreating down the mountain, she sighs softly. She tugs the blindfold down from her eyes, cringing softly at the morning sun in her eyes.
⠀⠀⠀“Thank you for your help, Genya.” The woman offers him the same warm smile she offers to the others, “You must be hungry! If you don’t mind, theres a few bowls sitting on the counter in the kitchen, could you get them? You can have as much food as you’d like.” She straightens the collar of her shirt, fixing her hair slightly as she tugs it out of the back of the blindfold, “I have to go wake the lord, but, I’ll meet you back here, okay?”
⠀⠀⠀He’s not sure why, but Genya finds himself nodding and agreeing, heading back for the kitchen to grab the nine wooden bowls that sit on the counter. The ones that the woman had pulled out earlier.
⠀⠀⠀When he returns, a stack of wooden bowls in either hand, he waits by the table for her. It feels wrong to get his own food without her here.
⠀⠀⠀After a few moments, she steps out of one of the larger buildings, her arm wrapped around that of a large man. A very large man. Possibly the largest man Genya has ever seen (even larger than his brother).
⠀⠀⠀The two walk slowly, steadily and she smiles softly as she sees Genya standing there, slipping her arm from the man’s and quickly closing the distance between them. She offers a hand for the bowls, “Sorry to keep you waiting!”
⠀⠀⠀“Oh,” The bigger man’s brow furrows, he stares straight ahead, “Are there those who haven’t eaten yet?”
⠀⠀⠀“No, everyone has gotten their food,” She assures him, nodding to Genya as he sets a bowl in her hand. She puts some rice into the first bowl as he sets the stack on the wooden table. Next, he hands her another bowl, which she dishes vegetables into. And, finally, he hands her the third bowl, which she ladles Miso soup into, “This boy came along to help me today.”
⠀⠀⠀“Oh? And who is this boy?” The man asks.
⠀⠀⠀Once Genya gets the third bowl in his free hand, the second bowl of vegetables stacked on top of the rice, he gets a good look at the large man. He’s very tall, muscular, and a peculiar scar runs across the length of his forehead. He wears a green happi covered in kanji that Genya takes a moment to glance over. A prayer? But, what stands out the most is the ojuzu beads around his neck and hands, held in prayer as he waits. It takes Genya a second glance to recognize the familiar uniform of the demon slayers— the black jacket and pants with a white belt, tapered at the bottom of the legs. His brother wears the same.
⠀⠀⠀Furthermore, from the man’s far off stare and the whiteness of his eyes, he comes to realize that the man is blind.
⠀⠀⠀Genya, having fallen silent as he stares, is nudged softly by the woman as she fills another bowl with rice. He clears his throat, “I’m Genya.. Uh— Shinazugawa Genya.”
⠀⠀⠀The man cocks his head, mouth tipping up softly at the corners, “Shinazugawa? A familiar name.”
⠀⠀⠀“I met him whilst exchanging a message,” She chuckles softly, now scooping vegetables into another bowl, “Genya walked me here and helped with breakfast, you know.”
⠀⠀⠀“Very kind of Genya.” The man nods his head.
⠀⠀⠀After she pours another bowl of Miso soup, she sets a hand on Genya’s shoulder, “Genya, this is Lord Himejima Gyomei of the temple and the estate. The hashira of stone breathing.”
⠀⠀⠀“I’ve asked you to stop calling me that title.” Himejima tuts, his hands out flat before him.
⠀⠀⠀“I know,” She chuckles softly, setting a bowl of rice in one palm, “Rice in this bowl. And this is cucumber, carrot, mushroom, and bamboo,” she sets the second bowl of vegetables beside the first, easily able to fit in the man’s large hand. Finally, she sets the bowl of soup in his opposite hand, “Miso. Fresh made.”
⠀⠀⠀“Shojin Ryori.” Himejima nods softly, “Good.”
⠀⠀⠀She begins fixing the final three bowls with whats left in the pots and on the cutting board, “As usual, Lord Himejima.” she chuckles softly, stacking the bowl of vegetables atop the rice and picking up the bowls in her own hands, “We’ll say our prayer and begin our meal.” She nudges Genya, again, motioning for him to follow her.
⠀⠀⠀The three of them move towards the statue of Buddha and, instead of nodding or saying a word and moving on, they stop there. She sets her bowls in front of the statue, moving to retrieve a couple small chabudai tables for them to eat on, bringing them back to the statue. Himejima waits patiently, and, so does Genya.
⠀⠀⠀When she returns with the tables, she sets one in front of Himejima and taps it a few times, Himejima setting his bowls down while she sets one in front of Genya and one between the two men, turning to grab her own bowls, setting them there.
⠀⠀⠀She moves around the table, sitting between the two men with her legs tucked under herself, her head bowed and hands clasped in front of her. Genya sees Himejima do the same and he follows suit.
⠀⠀⠀Himejima begins a soft prayer, a chant. She repeats and recites it alongside him. Genya stays quiet because, quite frankly, he doesn’t know these words.
⠀⠀⠀Once they’re done, she hands them each a pair of chopsticks and one of the renges from earlier, sighing softly. Himejima’s hand finds her shoulder, patting it softly as he nods to her.
⠀⠀⠀Genya notices the man waits until she takes the first bite of the food, then he begins to eat. Genya follows suit, though, he’s not too sure why.
⠀⠀⠀And as he begins to think to himself in the silence of the three of them eating, he asks himself… did he ever tell her his name?