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"Spread the sheet over the tatami mats like this. Be careful not to wrinkle it, this silk cost me more than you did."
Inosuke watched with mild boredom as the lady of the house pulled some fabric from a bundle on the floor. The silk was blood-red in color and shimmered golden under the candle-light. She fanned the sheet out across the mats with care, then turned back to Inosuke and fixed him with an expectant glare.
"Once this room's been made presentable, you are to head downstairs to the kitchen and fetch a tray of sake. Our customers will be here soon, so try to be quick. Understood?"
Inosuke bowed awkwardly and stayed like that until the woman was gone. Once her steps had receded, he moved back to the hallway and peeked outside to make sure no one else was around, then slid the doors shut.
"Let the old hag do it herself," he grumbled to himself. Inosuke crossed the room, pulled aside the wide linen blinds, opened one of the windows and hopped onto the frame. From there, he pulled himself up the side of the building. "Not about to play maid."
As soon as he reached the roof, he dropped down onto the cool tiles and sprawled out his limbs, sighing.
The red light district bustled noisily below, narrow streets overflowing with a river of bodies that shuffled past each other to get to wherever they intended to go. Vendors called out to sell their wares, people bumped into each other and laughter spilled out into the cold air from inside the buildings.
It was all so... fast. Inosuke couldn't fathom how anyone could keep up with the pace of this strange place. He missed the woods, where time held little significance and there weren't many things reminding him that it passed at all. He missed the earth, the fresh air, the quiet... everything that was so jarringly absent from this place.
A slight rumble under his fingertips snapped Inosuke out of his thoughts. Someone was scaling the side of the building, sending little vibrations through the tiles. Instinctively, Inosuke reached for his swords, only to find the spaces at his sides empty.
He cursed and jumped to his feet, preparing to defend himself bare-handed. "Come up here and I'll beat you to a pulp, whoever you are!"
"It's just me, Inosuke!"
Inosuke's shoulders sagged with relief when he heard that familiar voice. Not long after, Tanjirou's powdered face peeked over the edge of the roof. As soon as he saw Inosuke, his eyes lit up. He pushed himself over the edge, stood up and quickly made his way over.
A basket was tucked under his arm and, as he moved, he seemed to be struggling with the length of his kimono. Overall, with his painted cheeks, sloppy lipstick and tied-up hair, he made for an amusing sight. Inosuke was glad the lady of his house decided to wipe that stuff off his face, otherwise he would still look just as ridiculous as Tanjirou.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you, but I saw you from down there and thought you might like a bit of company."
"No one startles me, Monjirou," Inosuke huffed, sat back down and returned his attention to the going-ons in the streets below.
"Well, I'm sorry anyway." Tanjirou took a seat next to Inosuke, basket wedged between his legs so it wouldn't tumble off the roof. "You know, I was at the market just now. It's funny, really, since the lady didn't even ask me to get anything."
Inosuke didn't respond, but he was listening. He enjoyed hearing Tanjirou talk. His voice was... pleasant. Calming.
"It's just that I finished my chores so quickly, she didn't have anything else for me to do. Ah, also..."
Tanjirou began digging through the contents of his basket. After a moment, he lifted out a little bundle of paper. As soon as he unwrapped it, a sweet scent wafted through the air. Inosuke, struck equally by curiosity and hunger, glanced over.
"I bought some Anpan. Fresh out of the oven, too, so they're still steaming. I was going to hand them out to the girls when I got back, but now that I'm here we might as well share them, right?"
Inosuke's stomach grumbled at the sight of the fresh, warm bread, so he wasted no time in snatching one of the buns up. He shoved the whole thing into his mouth with two generous bites. The paste inside tasted sweet and the bread gave it that savoury, fluffy touch.
Inosuke enjoyed these kinds of treats more than he would like to admit, since he never had anything of the sort back on his mountain.
"These are good," Inosuke mumbled while chewing. "Thanks, Monjirou."
"No problem," Tanjirou replied, shifting his weight onto one arm while grabbing one bun for himself and handing another one off to Inosuke. "Food always tastes better shared, doesn't it?"
Inosuke only shrugged and continued eating. He didn't know about that concept as a whole, but eating with Tanjirou was always nice.
They sat like that for a while. The silence between them was comfortable while they indulged in another Anpan or two, watching the spasms of red and orange light dance all around the entertainment district.
Chewing on the last bite of his bean-paste bun, Inosuke pondered whether or not to speak up about the thing that'd been bothering him all day. Unsure of himself, he glanced over at Tanjirou. The light from below cast a warm glow on his his face, and Inosuke was particularly struck by the fiery color of his hair and eyes.
Tanjirou seemed to notice Inosuke's eyes on him. "Everything alright?"
Inosuke quickly snapped his head in a different direction, fixing his eyes on a roof in the distance. His face burned with emberassment and he suddenly wished for his mask.
"I don't know," Inosuke admitted after a pause. "I don't... I don't feel like this whole thing is going anywhere. And if it is... If we find that demon, what if we're not up for the challenge? What if..."
Inosuke trailed off, stumped. It felt strange, saying all that. Confessing his doubts, his fears, aloud. But Tanjirou didn't say anything about how pathetic showing vulnerability was, he only picked up on the thought Inosuke had left hanging.
"What if this ends the same way as our mission with Kyojurou? It won't."
Kyojurou. They hadn't known him very well at first, but forging bonds came as naturally to the flame hashira as breathing. Without a hint of history between them, Inosuke had begun looking up to him. In a better world, all three of them would've become his Tsugoku. Trained under him, grown stronger, risen to the rank of hashira themselves...
But this wasn't that world.
Kyojurou was dead.
If only Inosuke had done more, fought harder, maybe then, somehow, he might've...
"Inosuke." Tanjirou's voice was gentle. His hand moved up to rest on Inosuke's shoulder, prying him from his thoughts. "No matter what happens, this time will be different."
The district below them was slowly quieting down. People began heading home once the sky turned from a midnight black to a softly gleaming blue. With the start of a new day, lights were being turned off and doors slammed shut.
"This time will be different," Tanjirou declared, and the sun seemed to light up in agreement.