Chapter 39

In a world that grapples with the existence of demons, supernatural creatures with the power to carve earth, shape mountains and level civilizations, to be born a human could be considered unfathomably tragic. But, as if the winds of creation took pity on the writhing, fragile figures that crawled on fours before learning to walk, they made demons superior in every capacity except one. The depth of sentiment arising from human bonds is something demons will never be able to match.

You have witnessed your share of powerful emotions from your time in this world. The strength derived from the tenderness of a husband toward his wife, the care of a parent for their child, the love of sibling and sibling, the respect and admiration between kin of different blood.

Familial love is one that you are most familiar with. You know how wonderful it feels as someone who has received and given it in equal measure. To be cherished, protected, beloved, and to cherish, protect and love your family for merely existing.

But as with anything human, there exists a duality. Admiration can transform into envy, yearning into apathy, and love into indifference. The deeper the emotion, the more dangerous it becomes to the target of the emotion and the people around them. Something with which you are intimately familiar with. And yet, for all your experience… you still had not managed to predict this turn of events.

You are grateful for your relentless optimism, but it certainly rears its head in in times where logical cynicism would aid you far better.

"Two… three… four. That's four times too many for me to write it off as a coincidence!" You lower the hand which you'd been using to count the number of times Shinobu has found herself suddenly 'occupied' over the last week. The first time it occurred was, of course, when Kanao had leveraged on your goodwill and chased you away.

Thinking back to the day your awaited date with Shinobu fell through, you can't help but fall into a dark mood. "I don't know if I ought to be furious that I got played by a child, or disappointed that she continues to dislike me despite my all my attempts to get her on good side…" You cover your face, rubbing your temple in an attempt to banish your annoyance. "Shinobu, forgive me for saying this, but your little sister has officially ticked me off!"

The rational part of you understands what Kanao has done is simply returning the favour for your casual intrusions in her daily life. But you're only human, and the petty side of you can't hold back from pointing out that her revenge is entirely too unfair. You have never once purposely hijacked her time with Shinobu or went as far as to physically separate them to steal Shinobu's time for yourself.

Your hand clenches into a fist as you struggle against your foul mood. Instead of giving into the urge to clutch your head and yell in frustration, you redirect your focus instead into piling the empty bowls back onto the tray. The relief at the inane action is shortlived, because your mind jumps to how you had chosen to eat lunch in your room today rather than at the dining hall.

After yesterday's attempt at spending time with Shinobu failed again thanks to Kanao's machinations, you wanted to spare yourself from the annoyance you doubtless would have felt upon seeing Kanao.

It has less to do with the chance that you would blow your top at the sight of her, and more to do with your shame at being annoyed at her to begin with. Despite getting riled by her schemes, you cannot ignore the reasoning behind Kanao's actions– that she only acts the way she does because she has Shinobu's interests in mind. Kanao's approach is questionable, but with her rough childhood, she deserves a certain degree of leeway… is what you're constantly trying to remind yourself.

As the saying often goes, it is easier to preach something than to apply it. It would be difficult to forgive yourself for being a hypocrite.

You trundle into the hallway with the dish laden tray in your hands. An odd rattling noise arises when you steer the door shut with your foot, and your forehead immediately wrinkles in a deep frown. "One problem after another," you take in an aggrieved breath. "The gods seem to be intent on testing my patience."

In any other season, you would have simply ignored it. But Winter was looming, and if you put off fixing it now, you would be stuck with the problem until the first blooming of flowers. You are fairly confident your door wouldn't collapse or break into pieces during mid-winter, but it would be better to have the mansion's groundskeeper come take a look, just in case the rattling was indicative of a deeper issue.

Drawing on your past experiences, you know to be safe than sorry in regards to the wintery season. During the first snow season by yourself, you had nearly frozen to death because you put off fixing the missing shingles on your roof. It was a lucky thing your neighbours took pity on your situation and helped with a quick patch job.

That thought knocks the breath out of your lungs. Wow… has it already been a year since you last stayed at your family home? Between the chaos of demon slaying missions, courting Shinobu and dealing with Kanao, that fact would have passed by you completely. The realization that this won't be your first Winter alone is staggering.

Winter was a season you typically spent isolated in the house you grew up in, one of the Kuroshio's ancestral homes left to you by the main family branch. Not out of love, or even pity, but out of fear. You suppose you can understand their point of view, given what happened in that house.

No matter how steeped in history a house is, it will never be seen as anything but a bringer of misfortune if the majority of its former occupants had perished within it by unnatural, cruel means.

You lower your gaze to the dirty plates and bowls carried atop the tray. "How surreal," you mutter. "So, it's already been five years." Your words carry with it a familiar stab of pain. Mayu would have been fifteen now if she were alive. Five years has dulled the memory of her sweet-cheeked face, and you can barely recall how she would smile when you snuck her an extra stick of dango after a long day of hauling rice sacks.

Your chest gives another painful throb. You force your thoughts in a lighter direction. "Come to think of it," you say to yourself, "I've stayed in this mansion longer than I have anywhere else. Hmm… should I ask Shinobu about paying a boarding fee of some sort?"

If your hands were free, you would raise them to scratch your cheek. "I've been having my personal letters sent to this address as well… I definitely need to ask if she is fine with that arrangement the next time I see her."

Caught up in your musings, you run straight into someone when you turn the corner. Your surprised yell echoes in tandem with the clunk clunk of dishes falling to the ground. None of them shatter, much to your relief. You steady yourself on reflex, your feet digging into the floor before you can go sprawling. It sends you several steps back, and you look up, apologetic.

"That was my fault, I wasn't looking where I was headed. Are you…?" You find yourself trailing off at a loss for words. It isn't because your near fall had accidentally something loose in your head, or that the other party had gotten knocked on their ass. No, the root of your speechlessness is due to the horrendously contorted face you find yourself staring straight into. Contorted, not by the vicious claws of demon in a life-or-death battle, or an unfortunate freak accident, but by his own design.

The man you had run into sports a clean-shaven face, with naturally angular features speaking of a certain pedigree from either the samurai or scholar type families. In all, he should have been the picturesque image of an affable young man. The ugly scowl he wears, however, completely ruins it.

If the urge to spit cutting remarks had not been trained out of you at an early age, you would have been unhesitant to tell him that his face resembled the mug of an unwashed, unloved street dog who just witnessed his food getting stolen.

When you take notice of the two other men behind him, wearing equally aggrandizing scowls, you feel tension coiling in the pit of your stomach. Not so much to be uncomfortable, but enough that your senses become sharp enough to detect the hidden aggression in their stances and the tautness in their arms and shoulders.

Looking at the way they position themselves, though, reminds you of the way thugs flank their leader in order to instill fear into their target. You've met colourful characters like this over the years, the rough and tumble types any merchant could find by simply throwing a stone into a populated town. You've dealt with your share of them, and it is your experience and demon trained senses that inform you these men standing before you are about cause a world of trouble.

"You weren't looking where you were headed?" The man you had run into takes a step into your personal space and jabs a finger against your chest. "You're doing me a disservice by treating me like a fool. I know you did that on purpose, Kuroshio-san."

The fastest way to deal with thugs is to make them think they're winning. So, despite the simmering annoyance in your gut, you put on a guileless expression and say what he is obviously desperate to hear. "So, you're saying I planned it?"

He sneers like you've just insulted his ancestors. Anyone else would have bought into his rage, but the flicker of glee you catch in green eyes tells you that he's putting on one hell of a farce. "I did not. You, however, have just admitted it." His gaze dips to the tray you're holding. Remarkably, an empty teacup still remains standing.

"Fellows," he says, turning his head to catch the eyes of the men behind him. "Kuroshio-san is crass enough to boast about his brazen attempt to harm me. A Tsuchinoto, plotting to bring down Tsuchinoe. What kind of justice should I pass down onto him?"

You withhold the urge to snort. Men like Fuji are outliers in that they have spent years holding absolute power in their longstanding families, and their arrogance, while nauseating, is dutifully learned from those who teach them. In a way, you cannot completely hold their arrogance against them.

But the man before you, flaunting a status that holds no weight outside the Demon Slayer Corps, is different. Flamboyant with a flair for words, yet strung together without delicacy. An over measured sense of pride not based on his family background, but of being a higher rank. Laughably, he even gets that wrong, because you know with certainty that he would not have picked this fight if he knew you both now stood at the same rank.

You stare at him, fighting the urge not to laugh at his uppity face. It is harder than it looks, but you manage somehow. You don't want to give your humour away, because after all, jokes are funnier when you're the only one privy to them.

"If it was Kocho-sama, I am certain she wouldn't bother dispensing justice on someone so beneath her," one of the men behind their leader says. Hearing an idiot speak Shinobu's name makes you twitch. "You definitely need not bother."

The man pulls his finger back. "That might be true…" The three pairs of eyes that bore into you are overflowing with maliciousness. You're vaguely impressed that they managed to keep their hostility in check to ensnare you in their worthless trap. "But as I thought, I can't leave this crime unpunished. It would set a precedent for cretins like him."

It's still too long for him to pull his finger back. He insulted and accused Ryuu 3 times, then turned back to his fellows and insulted him another 2 to three times. I would have him pull his finger back, when he turns his head to address his "fellows"

Without warning, he lashes out with his open palm and slaps the tray out of your hands. It clatters onto the hardwood floor along with the other crockery. The teacup smashes into pieces, scattering jagged pieces of clay across the hallway.

"That, I believe, will do for an appropriate punishment," he says with a sniff. "A worthy judgement for an insignificant fool like you who thinks the favour of a beautiful flower can be bought."

A mixture of amusement and anger swirls in the pit of your stomach. You can't decide whether to laugh at their pathetic idea of a punishment or give them a thorough tongue lashing for the crass description that obviously refers to Shinobu. And why is he saying you bought her affections? If he was referring to how you entered the mansion in the first place, then he either had a very unreliable informant, or was simply spouting nonsense to please himself.

A slight tremor passes through your hands as you contemplate grabbing the rude man by the scruff of his neck and slamming him into the wall. It would be so, so easy. The man had a fair bit of muscle on his frame, but nothing comparable to yours.

In the end, you decide against it when the three men exchange smirks, not even bothering to hide their pleasure at your humiliation. Giving into their lame trickery is what they desperately want. If you harm them, they would undoubtedly take it up with the higher ups, and it would be hard to prove your innocence with your words against theirs. Superiority in numbers is useful that way.

You take in a deep breath and allow the growing silence to lengthen. When it's clear that you're refusing to go along with their scheme, they puff up their chests like overbearing house cats.

"Coward," the green-eyed man spits. He tries to shove you bodily as he walks past, but you barely give him an inch before holding your ground. He doesn't try anything after that, only making sure to exchange disdainful looks with the men behind him.

Once they have gone out of sight, an explosive sigh swells in your lungs and escapes your gritted teeth in a hiss. "Where are these prideful fools coming from? Did they congregate in this mansion for the sole purpose of strutting about?"

You set your hands on your hips and look around for the items that had unceremoniously smacked out of your grasp. You bend down to pick up the bowl nearest to your feet, then turn around to find the tray. You barely avoid bumping into a looming figure. You jerk backwards, thinking it is the same bunch of slayers from earlier.

It is not. The black and white flap covering the lower half of the man's face is an instant identifier. You push up from your awkward crouch to smile at him. "Good afternoon."

"And to you, Kuroshio-sama." His voice sounds vaguely familiar. As you straighten up, moving to give him more space, you finally manage to place him as the man who was mann ing the gate when you returned from your date with Shinobu. His stoic tone of voice was identical to the one you'd heard. It wasn't that he was particularly memorable, but it helped that the events of that entire day were deeply embedded in your mind. "Here are your things," he says, handing over the tray and bowls he seems to have picked up without you noticing. "As for the mess," he taps his feet near a particularly large clay shard, "I will have it cleared immediately."

Your first instinct is to ask if the teacup can be salvaged. But, a second glance at the shattered remains tells you that the pieces are too tiny for even the most masterful of artisans to put back together, and you swallow your question. You give him a grateful smile instead. "How should I address you?"

"I do not…" He scans your face. You keep your expression earnest to show your sincerity. "I am Ikeda, Kuroshio-sama," he finally says, giving you a short bow.

"Thank you, Ikeda-san," you say. You are glad he told you his name. You don't feel like you've thanked someone properly unless you address them personally. "It's not an exaggeration to say that you've lightened my mood. It might be due to the weather, but I feel like many people seem to hold something against me these days." Ikeda's face remains impassive, but he nods at your words. "Well, I won't disturb you with any more of my worthless theories. Again, I appreciate your help. If you need help with any other matters, I hope I may be able to provide some assistance."

You turn to walk away. It's a shame a simple trip to the kitchen turned out this way, but at least it did not end on a rotten note.

"Kuroshio-san," the man calls. You pause and swivel to face him. "How well do you consider your memory to be?" You blink at the innocent, if odd question. "I think it fares decently," you reply.

"If gauged by that standard, mine is exceptional. It is a great aid for gatekeeping and keeping track of important events," Ikeda says. "I recall that the men from earlier are temporary visitors, here for their prearranged health checks." His stoic mask cracks, a hint of displeasure showing through.

I was responsible for inspecting the gifts that they brought along for Kocho-sama."

"Hah!" Due to the tray in your hands, you lack the means to slap your knee at the hilarity. It turns out, the mystery is no mystery at all! You give the kakushi a short bow. "Thank you, Ikeda-san. Your memory is indeed exceptional."

"It is nothing. Take care, Kuroshio-sama."

You reach the kitchen without additional unwanted excitement. When you enter, carefully winding around the busy kitchen staff, you're surprised not to see Aoi. She had passed you lunch earlier, and kitchen shifts did not end until the day was over. You want to thank Aoi for letting you have lunch in your room, she had bended the rules by allowing you to take the food back considering you weren't injured or requiring bedrest.

At the other end of the kitchen, surrounded by large washbasins piled with bowls, plates and utensils, you hand over your own dirty crockery to the woman seated in the middle. As she pulls her arms out of the basin, soap bubbles up to her elbows, you ask if Aoi had stepped out for lunch. You receive an unexpected answer.

"Aoi-chan got let off early. She had a stomach ache, so she left early to catch a bit of rest." The woman dumps the bowls into a large wooden washbasin and starts wiping down the tray. "Ah, but she did say she'd come help serve dinner if she feels better. You can try checking in later."

The woman's smile carried a hint of indulgence. You feel an odd pang looking at her slightly plump and wizened face. You recognize her, of course, from your various trips to the kitchen across the months you spent here. She always smiled kindly, her voice gentle and calming. If you were brave, you would describe it as bordering on motherly.

"I understand," you tell her, smiling back uneasily. The sudden rush of nostalgia is making your stomach twist into knots. "Thanks for letting me know." The woman nods and goes back to cleaning. Quickly, you backtrack and make a swift exit from the kitchen.

Walking down the halls, you feel oddly unbalanced. The events occurring today seem keen on testing your limits. You had gotten up on the wrong side of the bed today and the earlier clash with Shinobu's three admirers hadn't helped either. Talking with Ikeda eased your discomfort somewhat, but after your encounter with the kind lady in the kitchen, your world hasn't stopped feeling off kilter, like something somewhere has snapped out of place.

It is a maddening feeling of being aware that something is wrong, but not knowing what.

Your absentminded deliberation ends up with your body moving by reflex alone, and as a result, you don't realize you've headed to Shinobu's favourite haunt until you smell the faint aroma of Wisteria. By the time your mind catches up, you're already standing a little ways off to the entrance of her laboratory.

Your head snaps to the left, then to the right. You speed up the pace, reaching the next turn of the hallway and check behind it for a tiny girl with fiery eyes. No one is there. You tense up, suddenly excited. Could it be true, you think? Is today, finally the day you get to meet Shinobu without any annoying interferences or interruptions?

You start walking back to the door, then stagger to a halt. The hallway is empty, and you know logically that Kanao can't phase through walls, but you still find yourself standing in the middle of the hall, waiting with bated breath. This situation feels too good to be true. What if she saw you and headed inside already? She had appeared out of thin air multiple times in the past, there was no reason it wouldn't happen again.

It's pathetic, really, that you still this paranoid about her. You just want to talk to Shinobu… yet, here you are, acting as if you're just two breaths away from fending off an invisible assassin.

You gather your courage. You are about to stride toward Shinobu's lab, head held high, when the wooden doors abruptly slide open. You immediately back dart behind the corner, not sure whether to peek out or stay hidden. You are confused as to why you're hiding until you hear a familiar voice.

"The apothecary didn't have those ingredients during my last trip, so I had no choice but to write down the names of several other shops you can try checking in with. If you have trouble recognizing whether what they're selling are the ones I want, it's fine not to buy them. These are for my personal experiments. They aren't so important that you need to get swindled to get them. Alright, Kanao?"

Shinobu's voice is as sweet and genteel as ever. The corners of your lips rise steadily as she talks, but the name at the end makes your body shrivel up. The warmth blossoming within your chest is rudely smothered, replaced by a strangled chokehold around your heart. You stay frozen for a moment, then bravely peek out from behind your corner cover with some resignation. When you see the gangly form of one Kanao Tsuyuri, your resignation turns into discontentment. How has she always remained ten steps ahead of you this entire time?

"Yes, Master. I'll find them."

Your heart leaps into your throat when Kanao appears to turn in your direction. Oh buddha, is she coming here?

"Before you leave, ask for Aoi to accompany you. The village isn't far, but I won't feel at ease if any of you go by yourselves."

"I understand." Kanao's voice sounds significantly softer than before, and you dare to let out a silent but harried breath. Good, Kanao was headed for the kitchen. With it situated in the other direction, there is no way she would bump into you.

"Take care, Kanao, and return safely." Shinobu says.

You hear the door slide shut, and the next time you peek around the corner, you see Kanao's back steadily growing further away.

Hey… doesn't this mean that the perfect opportunity has finally presented itself? Your grin is so wide that your face begins to hurt. Kanao should be gone for quite some time, and you and Shinobu will have plenty of time to yourselves.

But, wait. Are the continued interruptions that you've experienced for this past week going to repeat themselves, once she returns? You can't fathom that Kanao would suddenly let up, not when she has been so successful at it. This opportunity is like lightning in a bottle, something that no one could have predicted. Not even Kanao!

Your shoulders tense up, rising in frustration until they've almost touched your ears. "When is this going to end?" Your words come out strangled through your gritted teeth. "Hah, what am I saying? It won't stop until Kanao–"

Kanao. Right, of course! With her finally not glued to Shinobu's side, this is the best chance you had for both of you to speak your minds.

Throwing a final glance at Shinobu's door, you make your decision. It is unfortunate that a sacrifice has to be made, but if this goes to plan, you won't have to fear Kanao's instigations any longer.

Sliding your hands into your sleeves, you set off at a swift pace, taking take off in the direction of your room. You have an outing to dress for and you can't be late.

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Story edits as of Dec 2021:

- Dialogue in chapter 9 regarding Aoi has been altered. As of this current chapter, she has yet to participate in the Final Selection.

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