Chapter 19

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.