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Shinobu let out her fifth sigh of the morning, staring up at the ceiling as her injured leg rested atop two carefully stacked pillows, keeping it elevated.
The room smelled faintly of medicinal herbs, the familiar scent now clinging to everything around her.
She had survived the Final Selection.
The use of wisteria poison had proven incredibly effective—far more than she had dared to hope. Yet on the seventh day, during one last confrontation, she had run out of it. The demon had taken advantage of that moment of weakness, catching her off guard and crushing her leg with brutal force.
The dull ache that lingered was a constant reminder of her limits.
There was still so much left to refine, so many formulas to perfect, but knowing that her poisons worked—that they could truly protect her—felt like a reward in itself.
Even if that reward came with the price of being confined to her room, unable to step outside, while Aoi and Kanao took turns watching over her under Kanae’s strict instructions.
A soft knock echoed against the wooden frame of the sliding door.
Shinobu blinked, then carefully pushed herself upright, suppressing a hiss of discomfort as she shifted her weight.
“Come in,” she called, smoothing the edge of her blanket with one hand.
The door slid open with a gentle whisper. Aoi stepped inside, holding a tray that released faint trails of steam into the air. She moved cautiously, her shoulders slightly hunched, eyes fixed on the floor as if afraid to disturb the room.
Shinobu’s expression softened immediately.
“Aoi-chan! Did Nee-san finally allow you to help in the kitchen?” Shinobu said with a gentle smile, tilting her head slightly as she spoke.
The small girl with twin ponytails hesitated before slowly lifting her head, her fingers tightening around the edges of the tray.
Aoi was still very new to the Butterfly Estate—she had been rescued by Kanae during one of her many missions as a Hashira. Shinobu understood all too well that the girl hadn’t yet grown accustomed to her new life, to a place where she was safe and cared for.
“I–it was nothing, Shinobu-san!” Aoi replied quickly, shaking her head as if to dismiss the praise. “I insisted on helping Kochou-sama as thanks for everything you do for me.” She paused, her voice faltering as her gaze dropped back to the floor. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more help.”
Shinobu noticed the way Aoi’s shoulders curled inward and gently reached out, resting her hand atop the blanket.
“Don’t say that,” she said softly, her tone firming when she saw the girl lower her head again. “Nee-san, Kanao, and I all truly appreciate your help.”
Her smile softened as she met Aoi’s eyes.
“I’m really glad you decided to stay.”
The girl finally showed a small—almost imperceptible—smile, but for Shinobu, that alone felt like a victory.
“I’m glad I stayed too,” Aoi said quietly. “Everyone here is very kind.”
Shinobu smiled back before taking the bowl, which was still warm to the touch. The inviting steam from the soup curled upward, carrying a comforting aroma that filled her senses.
“Aoi, tell me,” Shinobu asked, her curiosity piqued, “is Kanae at the estate?”
“Yes,” Aoi replied, nodding. “Actually, that reminds me—that’s the other reason I came. Rengoku-sama and Kanroji-san are here. Kochou-sama was attending to them, but Kanroji-san wanted to come see you. I came to ask if you’d like me to let her in.”
Shinobu nearly choked on her spoonful of soup.
Mitsuri is here?
Her cheeks tinted a soft shade of red at the thought of seeing her again.
It had been months since her friend had last visited.
She must have been busy with her training and missions.
“A-ah—yes,” Shinobu said quickly, clearing her throat. “Tell her she can come in! That’s fine—no problem at all.”
Aoi raised an eyebrow, clearly confused, but accepted the answer without pressing further.
“Thank you, Aoi-chan.”
Less than a minute after the girl left the room, a familiar voice echoed down the hallway.
“Shinobu-chaaaaan!”
Her hair was just as colorful as Shinobu remembered.
The thought made her grimace at how foolish it sounded—it wasn’t as if that much time had passed since she’d last seen her, after all.
“Shinobu-chan, you’re okay!” Mitsuri exclaimed. “When Kochou-sama told me it was better to let you rest, I got really scared! I thought something terrible had happened to you—I’m so, so happy you’re alright!”
Shinobu watched as the pink-haired girl hurried over and knelt beside her bed, unshed tears shimmering in her eyes, making them gleam a soft emerald green.
She couldn’t help letting out an exasperated sigh at Mitsuri’s over-the-top concern, a smile tugging at her lips despite herself.
“Mitsuri-san, don’t exaggerate.”
“But I was really worried all day yesterday!” Mitsuri continued, her words tumbling over one another without pause. She gestured animatedly with her hands, shoulders rising and falling as if she’d only just run the entire way there. “Rengoku-san and Kochou-sama were exchanging information about their missions when your sister mentioned that you’d survived the Final Selection—but that you still hadn’t woken up!”
She clasped her hands together over the edge of the bed, leaning in closer.
“I kept thinking about you so much that I didn’t even notice when a low-ranking demon managed to hurt me. But don’t worry!” she added quickly, waving her hand as if brushing the incident aside. “In the end, Rengoku-san decided to bring me here to treat the wound, so everything worked out. I’m just—” her voice softened, eyes shining, “—really happy to see you.”
Shinobu stared at her for a moment, blinking slowly as she tried to sort through the flood of information.
“Mitsuri-san… I do appreciate your concern,” she said at last, her expression sharpening as she straightened slightly against the pillows. “But how could you allow yourself to get distracted like that? It could have ended much worse.”
Mitsuri flinched at the change in tone. She set both forearms on the mattress and rested her chin on them, deliberately avoiding Shinobu’s gaze. A faint blush crept from the tips of her ears down to her cheeks as she rocked gently from side to side.
Shinobu watched her closely—the hesitation, the averted eyes, the unusually quiet posture.
“…You let yourself get hurt on purpose just to come here, didn’t you?” Shinobu exclaimed, grabbing Mitsuri by the shoulders and giving her a firm shake.
“Eep!” Mitsuri let out a small yelp.
“It really wasn’t that deep!” she rushed to explain, hands flying up defensively. “I just made it sound worse so Rengoku-san would bring me here! I’m really, really sorry!”
Shinobu released her and pressed her palm to her forehead, exhaling a long, weary sigh through her nose.
Mitsuri looked up at her from the floor, lips pushed into a dramatic pout, emerald eyes peeking up apologetically.
“…You’re unbelievable,” Shinobu muttered, though there was unmistakable amusement woven into her words.
The moment Mitsuri realized she wasn’t actually in trouble, her face lit up, breaking into a radiant smile—wide, warm, and utterly sincere.
Shinobu couldn’t help but smile back, a soft laugh slipping from her lips as she shook her head and deliberately shifted the conversation elsewhere.
Shinobu shifted slightly, settling her back more comfortably against the pillows as she lifted the bowl with both hands. She blew gently over the surface before taking a sip, the warmth soothing as it slid down her throat.
“So…” she said after swallowing, her gaze drifting back to Mitsuri. “Tell me about your recent missions.”
Mitsuri immediately straightened, sitting cross-legged on the floor with her hands clasped in front of her, unable to hide her excitement.
“Oh! There were quite a few,” she began brightly. “Rengoku-san and I were first so during the day we helped the villagers harvest rice. They insisted on feeding us every meal—fresh grilled fish, miso soup, and the fluffiest rice I’ve ever had!”
Shinobu listened quietly, spoon moving at a slow, steady pace as she finished her soup.
“After that, we went north to Mount Shiramine,” Mitsuri continued, her hands moving as she spoke. “It was so cold! But halfway up the trail there was a tiny teahouse called Snowdrop Rest. They served hot soba with mountain vegetables and sweet red bean buns. We stopped there every single day.”
She giggled softly. “Rengoku-san said it was important to keep our strength up.”
Shinobu hummed, clearly amused, setting the empty bowl aside.
“And then there was Hanamachi, the town full of wisteria trellises,” Mitsuri added, eyes sparkling. “They had sakura mochi and honey-glazed dango. I tried to limit myself, but—”
“You didn’t,” Shinobu said dryly.
Mitsuri laughed. “Not even a little.”
They stayed like that for a while—Mitsuri animatedly describing forests, villages, and meals shared along the road, Shinobu relaxed as she listened, occasionally nodding or smiling faintly.
After a brief pause, Shinobu spoke again. “And where is the Flame Hashira?”
Mitsuri blinked, then tilted her head. “Oh! He should be around here. I think he was in the kitchen with your sister.”
Shinobu raised an eyebrow. “With Kanae?”
“Yes!” Mitsuri nodded. “Rengoku-san was insisting that everyone must eat abundantly to maintain peak strength. He kept saying things like, ‘A full stomach fuels a burning spirit!’ while your sister calmly reminded him that not everyone could handle five bowls of rice at once.”
Shinobu sighed, already imagining the scene.
Mitsuri lowered her voice, clearly amused. “At one point, Rengoku-san was giving a passionate speech about the importance of nutrition and proper breathing, while Kanae was trying to explain that soup doesn’t become more nutritious just because you shout encouragement at it.”
“…He shouted at the soup,” Shinobu concluded.
“Yes,” Mitsuri said solemnly. “And praised it afterward.”
A soft laugh escaped Shinobu before she could stop herself.
Mitsuri beamed, relieved to see her smile, as the quiet warmth of the room settled comfortably around them once more.
___________
Less than a month had passed during which Shinobu had had no choice but to stay in contact with Mitsuri solely through their crows, the short messages tied to their legs becoming a small routine she secretly looked forward to.
Her leg had healed well enough to walk without pain, though Kanae still insisted she rest more than Shinobu would have liked.
Once she was nearly fully recovered, the suggestion—and gentle insistence—of her older sister regarding her katana finally took root in her mind.
Her current blade, while reliable, no longer fully suited her developing fighting style or the delicate precision her poisons required.
That morning, Mitsuri arrived at the Butterfly Estate once again, as bright and overwhelming as ever, her arms laden with carefully wrapped sweets and a bouquet of fresh roses.
Shinobu had placed the flowers on her desk with uncharacteristic care, the soft fragrance lingering in the room long after Mitsuri had finished fussing over her.
Conversation flowed easily between them, drifting from recent missions to small, trivial things, until the subject of the Swordsmith Village resurfaced.
Shinobu mentioned it almost in passing—yet the moment the words left her mouth, Mitsuri’s eyes lit up.
By pure coincidence, she admitted, she had been planning to make the same journey for quite some time.
“So… it really is possible to go to the Swordsmith Village?” Shinobu asked again, her voice quieter this time as she adjusted her posture against the engawa’s wooden pillar.
“Yes,” Kanae replied with a gentle smile, her hands folded calmly in her lap as she looked at the two girls sitting across from her. “It’s a place meant only for Demon Slayers, of course, but it comes with very strict conditions.”
Mitsuri leaned forward slightly, her braids swaying with the movement, emerald eyes shining with curiosity.
“Wouldn’t that be dangerous?” she asked, concern softening her tone as she instinctively glanced at Shinobu’s injured leg.
Kanae chuckled softly. “There’s an extremely rigorous system to enter. Routes are changed constantly, and the Kakushi take several precautions along the way.” She tilted her head, reassuring. “I’ve only been there once myself, but I promise you—there’s no issue with the two of you going together. Especially now. Your swords need to be adjusted to suit your new breathing styles.”
Mitsuri and Shinobu exchanged a brief look. Shinobu’s violet eyes narrowed thoughtfully before she gave a small nod, while Mitsuri mirrored her a second later, smiling with quiet excitement.
“If you’re both in agreement,” Kanae continued, rising smoothly to her feet, “I’ll ask a pair of Kakushi who are already heading there to guide you. Is that what you want?”
Shinobu nodded, one hand bracing against the wall as she shifted her weight carefully. “Yes. I’d appreciate that.”
Mitsuri stood as well, bowing slightly with a bright smile. “Thank you so much, Kochou-sama!”
“Of course,” Kanae replied warmly. “I’ll make the arrangements.”
In the span of a heartbeat, she was already moving down the corridor, the soft sound of her steps fading as she went to summon her crow.
About half an hour later, the Butterfly Estate was quiet under the afternoon light. At the front gate, Shinobu and Mitsuri stood ready to depart.
Shinobu stared suspiciously at the dark cloth resting in her hands—the blindfold she was expected to wear. She pinched it between her fingers as if it might bite.
“…This is really necessary?” she muttered.
Before she could protest further, she turned her head—and froze.
Mitsuri was already settled cheerfully on the back of one of the Kakushi, holding on without a trace of fear, her expression positively glowing.
“Shinobu-chan! It’s not scary at all!” Mitsuri called out, waving slightly. “They’re very gentle!”
The Kakushi beside Shinobu waited patiently, posture perfectly still.
Shinobu sighed, closing her eyes for a moment before tying the blindfold in place. “Of course you’d already be ready,” she murmured under her breath.
Carefully, she allowed herself to be guided onto the Kakushi’s back, fingers tightening briefly around the fabric of their uniform.
There was no turning back now.
___________
From the moment the blindfold and ear coverings had been secured, Mitsuri lost all sense of time.
The world became nothing but motion without reference—only the steady rhythm of the Kakushi’s breathing beneath her, the soft thud of their footsteps against the ground, the brush of wind tugging at loose strands of her hair.
With her sight and hearing muted, time stretched and folded in on itself.
Minutes could have been hours; hours, mere moments. She trusted the route, trusted Kanae, trusted that Shinobu was being guided somewhere nearby along a different path.
Then—
A sharp, iron-heavy scent slipped past the cloth covering her face.
Blood.
Mitsuri’s body reacted before her thoughts could catch up. Her back went rigid, fingers curling tightly into the fabric of the Kakushi’s uniform as her heart skipped violently in her chest.
That smell didn’t belong here. Not on a protected route. Not this strong.
“P–please, stop!” she said at once, leaning forward despite herself. Her voice trembled, more with urgency than fear. “I’m so sorry, just—just for a moment!”
The Kakushi slowed, clearly startled by her sudden reaction.
Before they could ask what was wrong, Mitsuri carefully slipped her fingers beneath the blindfold and loosened it, lifting the cloth just enough to see. Guilt pricked at her chest as she removed it completely.
Cool night air rushed over her face.
Trees swayed gently under the moonlight. The path stretched on as it should have—quiet, empty, safe. And yet…
A scream tore through the night.
Female. Distant. Terrified.
Mitsuri’s breath caught painfully as she turned her head toward the sound. Beyond the treeline, faint, scattered lights glimmered in the distance—a small village tucked away in the dark. Too close.
Her nose wrinkled as the scent intensified.
“There’s blood…” she whispered, more to herself than anyone else. Her chest tightened, worry blooming fast and heavy. “It’s coming from that direction.”
She slid off the Kakushi’s back in a hurried but controlled movement, sandals touching the ground as her hand immediately went to the hilt of her katana. When she turned back, the Kakushi was already half-kneeling, panic evident in their posture.
“Kanroji-san, wait—!” they said in a hushed but urgent voice, glancing nervously toward the village. “We weren’t told of any activity in this area. If there’s a demon, we should report it. Please, let us escort you back—”
Mitsuri shook her head quickly, pink and green braids swaying with the motion.
“There isn’t time,” she said, her voice gentle but firm. She offered them an apologetic smile that did little to hide the worry in her eyes. “If someone’s screaming, then someone’s in danger right now.”
The Kakushi’s hands clenched into fists. “But you’re alone. And you’re supposed to be traveling under concealment—if something happens to you, we—”
“I’ll be careful,” Mitsuri promised, bowing slightly despite the urgency of the moment. “I swear. Please stay here and keep the route secure. If Shinobu passes by… tell her I’m sorry.”
The Kakushi hesitated, clearly distressed, shoulders tense as they struggled between duty and concern.
“Kanroji-san… please come back safely,” they said at last, voice tight.
Mitsuri’s smile softened, warm and earnest. “I will.”
With that, she turned toward the village, worry sharpening into resolve.
Her pace quickened into a run.
Mitsuri caught the scent of rain in the air at the very moment she finally reached what seemed to be the entrance of a village.
She tightened her grip around the hilt of her katana before following the trail of blood that, unfortunately, mingled with the smell of the first raindrops beginning to fall.
Just as the rain started to pour more heavily and Mitsuri had moved through several rows of houses, another scream pierced the air—far louder and much closer than before—letting the pink-haired girl know she was on the right path.
Mitsuri steeled herself before following the sound.
When she turned a corner, her breath caught as she came face to face with a demon, its hands pressed against its lips as if to amplify the echo.
The scream rang out again.
In that instant, Mitsuri understood—it had been the demon all along, imitating cries of terror.
A shiver ran down her spine, but she didn’t retreat. Instead, she pointed her katana directly at the demon, making her presence known.
“So it was you making those horrible pleas for help?” she snapped. “You should shut up already, or you’ll wake the villagers of this town!”
The demon turned to look at her with clear boredom before crouching once more and resuming its grotesque shrieks.
Mitsuri swallowed her indignation at being ignored and decided to attack at once.
Just as the tip of her blade was about to strike the demon’s neck, it vanished before her eyes—only to reappear a few meters ahead, letting out the same piercing, gut-wrenching scream.
The demon suddenly raised one hand, palm outward, in a gesture that almost looked… polite.
“Wait,” it said, its voice strangely calm, even gentle. “Please, stop.”
Mitsuri hesitated for half a heartbeat, surprised despite herself.
“I know I wouldn’t win against you,” the demon continued, tilting its head slightly. “You’re strong. I can tell. But there’s no need for this. Just ignore me and keep going on your way.” It smiled, thin and unsettling. “Someone weaker will pass through eventually. I can eat them without any trouble.”
For a moment, Mitsuri simply stared at it, stunned by the sheer absurdity of the request—and by the unsettling courtesy in its tone.
“…That’s horrible,” she said softly, her grip tightening on her katana. “I can’t let you do that.”
She stepped forward and swung her katana, her movements flowing into the beginnings of her Love Breathing.
Her blade traced wide, flexible arcs through the air, movements she had practiced countless times—
—but something was off.
The katana she carried wasn’t properly suited for her breathing style. Her attacks lacked the speed and reach she needed; each strike felt just a fraction too slow, too stiff, failing to fully connect.
The demon easily slipped back, its expression shifting from polite resignation to mild annoyance.
“I did warn you,” it muttered.
In a blur, it lunged forward, claws flashing toward her before abruptly retreating again, darting between the houses with unnatural speed. Roof tiles rattled, shadows twisted, and the demon vanished down a narrow path.
“Hey—wait!” Mitsuri called out, immediately giving chase.
She leapt over debris and sprinted through the tight streets, her sandals splashing against rain-soaked ground as the demon weaved effortlessly between buildings. Mitsuri followed without hesitation, heart pounding—not with fear, but with determination.
She couldn’t let it escape.
Not when innocent lives were so close.
As she turned sharply into another narrow street, Mitsuri nearly collided with someone coming from the opposite direction.
“Ah—!”
She moved on instinct, arms wrapping around the other person’s waist and pulling them back just in time. Their feet slid over the slick ground, mud splashing as the rain continued to fall steadily around them.
“M-Mitsuri-san?!” Shinobu gasped, clutching at Mitsuri’s haori as she regained her balance.
“Shinobu-chan?!” Mitsuri echoed, startled, holding her just a second longer to make sure she wouldn’t fall.
For a brief moment they stood far too close, rain pattering softly between them, before Shinobu gently but firmly stepped back.
“…You scared me,” Shinobu said, her voice lower now, the sharp edge softened by clear worry. “The Kakushi escorting you was standing frozen in the road. He was panicking. Of course I knew something was wrong.”
“I’m sorry,” Mitsuri said immediately, her expression earnest. “I smelled blood, and I heard someone screaming. I couldn’t just walk away.”
Shinobu exhaled slowly, eyes studying Mitsuri from head to toe as if checking for injuries. “You separated from your escort… took off your blindfold… and ran straight into a village alone.” She paused, then added more quietly, “You could have been hurt.”
Mitsuri’s shoulders relaxed a little at that. Despite the situation, she smiled—small but warm.
“I’m really glad you came,” she admitted. “I feel better knowing you’re here.”
Shinobu looked away, rain sliding down her lashes. “Someone had to make sure you didn’t do anything even more reckless,” she murmured, though the tension in her posture eased.
Mitsuri couldn’t help but laugh at the situation, a soft, breathless sound that slipped past her lips despite the rain pouring down on them.
After a few seconds, Shinobu let out a quiet chuckle of her own, shaking her head as if amused by herself.
By then, both of them were completely drenched, rainwater clinging to their hair and uniforms, droplets sliding down their faces and soaking into the fabric.
“Let’s find that demon and get out of here,” Shinobu said with firm resolve.
She raised one hand into a fist, her posture straight despite the mud beneath her feet. Mitsuri’s eyes lit up, and she quickly bumped her own fist against Shinobu’s, the contact light but full of shared determination.
“There are a lot of civilians around—we should hurry so no one gets hurt!” Mitsuri added as they started moving, her gaze sweeping over the darkened streets.
The mud squelched beneath their sandals, creeping up their stockings with every step, cold and heavy, but neither of them slowed down.
They ran from corner to corner, rain splashing around their ankles, their breathing steady and focused as they searched for any sign of movement.
For a moment, the village felt eerily silent—as if the demon had vanished entirely. Then, suddenly, a scream tore through the air from somewhere deeper within the streets.
Both of them froze for half a heartbeat before turning in unison, already knowing the direction.
Mitsuri’s chest tightened. She prayed with all her heart that it was only the demon’s cruel trick—another false cry meant to lure them closer—and not an innocent person who had been fooled.
“Mitsuri-san, go around the back—I’ll attack from the front!” Shinobu ordered sharply, already veering off in the opposite direction without hesitation.
“Got it!” Mitsuri replied at once, her grip tightening around her katana as she took off.
The demon emerged from the shadows with a crooked grin, rain sliding down its distorted features. Its eyes lingered on Shinobu, studying her with open interest.
“Well, well,” it crooned, voice slick and mocking. “You look weaker than the other one. That would make this a fair fight, wouldn’t it?”
Shinobu clicked her tongue sharply, irritation flashing across her face.
“Weaker? Please—my grandmother would hit harder than you,” she snapped back, her tone sharp and biting despite the danger.
Mitsuri, however, looked even more offended than Shinobu herself. Her brows furrowed, emerald eyes blazing.
“She is not weak!” she protested, gripping her katana tighter. “Not even close!”
The demon didn’t bother responding. Its grin widened—and in the next instant, it lunged.
Shinobu reacted immediately, twisting her body just in time as the demon’s claws slashed through the space where she had been a heartbeat earlier. Mud splashed violently as she slid back, sandals barely holding traction.
“Mitsuri—!” she began.
Mitsuri was already moving. She darted in from behind, swinging her blade in a wide arc, aiming for the demon’s neck—but it slipped away like smoke, its body bending at an unnatural angle.
The rain-soaked ground betrayed her then. Her foot skidded, the mud sucking at her sandals, and she stumbled forward with a startled gasp.
“Mitsuri!” Shinobu shouted.
In that split second, Shinobu moved without thinking.
She surged forward and drove her katana straight into the demon’s neck with all her strength.
There was a sharp crack—metal screaming in protest—as the blade pierced deep but failed to slice clean through.
The impact was so violent that the katana snapped near the hilt.
The demon froze… then burst into laughter.
“Hah! That tickles,” it mocked, claws twitching. “You couldn’t even decapitate me—what a shame.”
Shinobu didn’t answer. She immediately dropped the broken blade and grabbed Mitsuri, hauling her upright before she could fall fully into the mud.
“Are you hurt?” Shinobu asked urgently, hands gripping Mitsuri’s arms, her voice tight with worry rather than anger.
“I—I’m okay,” Mitsuri replied breathlessly, shaken but steadying herself. She looked at the broken katana, then back at Shinobu, guilt flashing across her face. “I’m sorry—I slipped—”
“Don’t,” Shinobu cut in firmly. “We’ll deal with that later.”
Behind them, the demon hissed in annoyance, tearing the broken blade from its neck as rain poured harder around them—because the fight wasn’t over yet.
Shinobu leaned in slightly, lowering her voice with unmistakable amusement as she nodded toward the demon’s neck.
“Give it a few minutes,” she murmured, lips curving into a smug smile. “That poison should be working its way through him right about now.”
She glanced down at what remained of her katana—little more than a ruined hilt—then tilted it subtly toward Mitsuri.
“Would you mind finishing the job for me?” she added lightly, as if asking for a small favor.
Mitsuri immediately understood. She stepped forward, planting her feet firmly despite the slick mud, her expression shifting from worry to focused determination.
Her eyes widened with fascination as she watched the demon stagger, its movements slowing unnaturally.
Dark purple veins crept along its neck and arms, its limbs trembling as strength rapidly drained from its body.
“W–What did you do to me…?” the demon rasped, panic finally creeping into its voice.
Mitsuri didn’t answer. She simply took a steady breath and raised her katana.
In a single, powerful motion—clean, precise, and overflowing with resolve—she struck.
The demon’s head separated from its body before it could even scream, its face frozen in stunned disbelief, as if it still couldn’t comprehend how it had lost.
As its body began to crumble away, Mitsuri shrugged lightly and pointed back at Shinobu with her thumb.
“Poison!” she said simply, a bright smile returning to her face.
The demon dissolved into ash beneath the rain, disappearing completely.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then, almost in unison, both girls let out long, relieved sighs.
The rain continued to fall around them, washing away the mud, the blood, and the last traces of the battle—leaving only the quiet and the steady sound of their breathing.
__________
“That was incredible! The demon was so slippery and fast that I couldn’t catch it in time—but Shinobu-chan is really smart and managed to create a poison that weakens them! Before long she’ll make one that kills them completely, I just know it—”
Shinobu listened from a short distance away as Mitsuri spoke animatedly with one of the Kakushi, her hands moving as much as her voice while she talked.
Between sentences, Mitsuri paused only long enough to take another generous bite from the plate piled high with food in front of her—the sixth or seventh plate by now, judging by the stack of empty dishes nearby.
Shinobu had finished eating quite some time ago, her own tray neatly pushed aside, but she hadn’t stood up. Instead, she remained seated, posture straight, quietly waiting for her friend so they could go to the hot springs together and then retire to their assigned room.
Mitsuri truly was sociable—Shinobu had learned that quickly. It only took a few minutes in her presence for Mitsuri to strike up warm, effortless conversations about everything and nothing with the Demon Slayers who passed by.
She laughed easily, listened earnestly, and reacted with such open enthusiasm that people naturally lingered longer than they meant to.
It was as if she carried her own soft glow, something comforting and impossible to overlook.
Shinobu herself didn’t participate much in the conversation, occasionally nodding or offering a brief, polite smile.
Still, every time Mitsuri mentioned her—every compliment spoken so sincerely and without hesitation—Shinobu felt her composure falter. She brought a hand to her mouth more than once, nearly choking on nothing but embarrassment, her ears burning as warmth spread across her cheeks.
She really doesn’t hold back, Shinobu thought, half-amused, half-overwhelmed.
Mitsuri had always been honest about what she thought of others; Shinobu had known that since the moment they met.
Even so, hearing such genuine praise directed at herself made her heart beat a little faster than she cared to admit.
Eventually, Mitsuri finished her final bowl of rice with a satisfied hum, setting it down carefully.
Shinobu, very much aware of the color flooding her face, turned slightly and pressed her cheek into the sleeve of the kimono the village had lent them because of the rain, grateful for the thin fabric hiding her expression.
“Shinobu-chan, I’m sorry for making you wait!!” Mitsuri said brightly, hopping to her feet with renewed energy. “We can go to the hot springs now! I really need to recover my good vibes after fighting such an annoying demon!”
Shinobu let out a quiet laugh, standing as well. She listened closely to every word, allowing Mitsuri to gently hook one of her arms around hers, the gesture natural and warm as they began walking side by side down the lantern-lit path.
“You were amazing back there too, you know,” Shinobu said softly.
“Huh?” Mitsuri blinked, tilting her head.
“If it hadn’t been for you, that demon would’ve finished me off,” Shinobu continued, her voice calm but sincere. “The poison I had wasn’t enough to kill it on its own… I’m really glad I fought alongside you.”
Mitsuri stopped short.
She stared at Shinobu for a second, emerald eyes wide, before a deep blush bloomed across her face—spreading from the tips of her ears all the way down to her cheeks. She released Shinobu’s arm just long enough to flap her hands uselessly near her face, trying to cool herself down.
“Shinobu-chan—!”
Shinobu halted as well, turning fully toward her.
Mitsuri stood there, fidgeting with her hands, cheeks flushed a vivid pink, eyes sparkling as if she were barely containing herself.
If Shinobu didn’t know better, she would have sworn little hearts were practically orbiting around her, radiating warmth and sincerity in every direction.
Shinobu watched with a small, fond smile as Mitsuri struggled to regain her composure, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, clearly bursting with things she wanted to say all at once.
“…You’re adorable when you get like this,” Shinobu murmured before she could stop herself—then blinked, realizing what she’d said.
Mitsuri’s blush deepened instantly, and the imaginary hearts might as well have doubled in number.
____________
They followed the narrow stone path downhill, their footsteps echoing softly against the damp rocks. Small lanterns lined the way, their warm glow reflected in the puddles left behind by the rain.
With every step, the sound of flowing water grew clearer, accompanied by the faint hiss of steam rising into the night air.
When the hot springs finally came into view, Shinobu slowed to a stop.
“…We’ll have to undress to enter,” she said, her tone calm but noticeably quieter than before.
Mitsuri blinked, then let out a small, flustered laugh, clasping her hands together in front of her chest.
“O–Oh! R-right… of course,” she replied, quickly turning her face away. Her cheeks were already glowing a soft pink.
Shinobu noticed immediately—and, to her own surprise, felt her own face grow warm in response. She looked down, focusing on carefully folding her kimono and placing it aside, trying to ignore the unfamiliar tightness in her chest.
This was new.
She had treated countless injured bodies, had shared rooms, had never once felt embarrassed like this.
Yet somehow, Mitsuri alone managed to pull this strange nervousness to the surface.
“…You don’t have to rush,” Shinobu said, clearing her throat lightly. “Take your time.”
Mitsuri nodded quickly.
“Y–Yes! I mean—thank you,” she said, smiling shyly. “I just didn’t expect to be this nervous.”
That earned a small, genuine laugh from Shinobu.
“…Neither did I.”
A moment later, they stepped into the hot spring, the warmth enveloping them instantly. Mitsuri let out a soft, relieved sound as she sank into the water.
“Ahh… this feels incredible,” she sighed. “I think all the tension finally caught up with me.”
Shinobu eased in beside her, shoulders relaxing as the heat soothed her muscles.
“It’s good for recovery,” she said gently. “Both physical… and mental.”
Mitsuri glanced at her, eyes bright even through the rising steam.
“I’m really glad you’re here with me, Shinobu-chan.”
The words made Shinobu pause. She looked away for a second, hiding the faint blush creeping across her cheeks.
“…I am too,” she admitted quietly.
They sat in comfortable silence for a few moments, the soft sound of water and night insects filling the space between them. Shinobu closed her eyes, realizing that the strange feeling in her chest hadn’t faded—but it no longer felt unpleasant.
If anything, it felt warm.
____________
After their bath, the two of them decided to stay awake a little longer, neither quite ready to let the quiet of the night slip away.
Mitsuri ended up lying sprawled on the floor of the room, one arm tucked behind her head while the other gestured animatedly as she explained to her friend the changes she wanted to make to her katana. Her voice grew brighter every time she mentioned how the blade would bend and move, and how Love Breathing flowed through each form, fluid and unpredictable, just like her emotions.
Shinobu sat cross-legged on the futon, the paper resting neatly in her hands. Her eyes traced every line and note with intense focus, brows knitting slightly as she took in the details.
“How is something like this even possible?” she murmured, clearly amazed. “What kind of swordsmith could transform a katana this way? It’s incredible.” There was genuine admiration in her tone, unguarded and sincere.
Mitsuri beamed at that. She rolled across the floor until she was closer, then propped her chin on both hands, elbows pressed to the tatami. Her feet kicked up and down behind her in a light, almost giddy rhythm, the faint swish of her socks brushing the floor.
“You really think so?” she asked, eyes sparkling. “I talked about this a bit with Rengoku-san. The swordsmith and I spent hours on this project, adjusting every little detail. I’m so happy with how it turned out!” She clenched one fist with determination. “No demon will stand a chance against us.”
The confidence in her voice was infectious.
Shinobu felt the corner of her lips lift into a soft smile before she even realized it.
“And what about you, Shinobu-chan?” Mitsuri added eagerly, pushing herself up onto her knees. “I want to see your design!”
Shinobu nodded, slipping a hand into the pocket of her kimono and pulling out a carefully folded sheet. She handed it over just as Mitsuri sprang to her feet, holding it up as if it were a treasure.
“Woow! It’s like the stinger of a bee!” Mitsuri said, tilting her head from side to side as she studied it. “Or maybe some kind of insect…”
“That’s the idea,” Shinobu replied, lying down beside her on the floor, one arm folded beneath her head. She leaned closer and pointed at the drawing with a single finger. “The poison will be installed in that tip, but it’ll be administered from the base. It allows for precision without sacrificing speed.”
As she spoke, her tone softened—calm, thoughtful, and just a little proud.
The two of them remained there, shoulder to shoulder.
Mitsuri hummed thoughtfully, eyes still fixed on the sketch, before glancing up at Shinobu with renewed curiosity.
“Hey, Shinobu-chan,” she said, her voice lighter but clearly interested, “have you decided if you’re going to engrave something on the lower part of the blade?”
Shinobu blinked, genuinely surprised by the question.
“Engrave… something?” She tilted her head slightly, then let out a small, amused laugh. “I hadn’t even thought about that.”