Chapter 11

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."