(Yes, the way the kimono is worn insinuates Shinobu is dead. No, she is not dead, this picture just matched the vibe)

The next day was a blur of tending wounds and collecting information. Crows flowed in and out of windows with updates, their feathers and shadows accompanying the morning rays of the unforgiving sun. The hashiras consulted their corvids and compared notes, setting up a makeshift planning space to discuss all that had happened and make changes as they heard of it. Luckily, there was a map of Japan that one swordsmith had handy and plenty of ink to make changes as needed.

The entire group had collected in a larger house that had been spared from the destruction as they tended to the worst of their wounds; namely Muichiro, Gyomei, and Tanjiro. Tanjiro had been taken to a doctor urgently, Zenitsu going with him and bringing the box that safely housed a sleeping Nezuko. Nezuko, whose hands were still clean of blood. Tanjiro's torso wounds and Nezuko's fatigue were terrible reminders of what could've so easily been. 

So was the smell of smoke that hung in the air and the lack of scorch marks.

Muichiro and Gyomei should've received the same treatment, but the pillars both resented such a statement - the youngest threatening to fight tooth and nail should anyone try to force him into care. Bandages and stitching would be done in the planning room - all else be damned. The Pillars of the Demon Slayer Corpse still had work to do. It took only half an hour, but their wounds were sutured to the best of anyone's present ability and that was all Muichiro would allow.

After that, it was only a game of waiting and responding. Their birds flew in for reconnaissance and bearing messages, their master's experience and knowledge filled in the rest. The news was a mixture of joy and grief, and so the morning also brought about a new wealth of tears. Kanae's crow was the most notable of such messages. It flew to Kyojuro, frazzled but sharing its report with a spirit that betrayed its emotions:

"The butterfly estate is destroyed in last night's attack! Eight slayers are dead. Forty live! Kanae, Shinobu, and Kanao Kocho send their regards. As does the Wind Pillar!"

That did make Kyojuro breathe a sigh of relief, along with other hashiras in the room. Doma still sat staunchly, yet fearfully, in the shadows. His children and Akaza were resting by his side. The other demon had yet to stir but had been lain carefully upon the oak floorboards. Inosuke had passed out, despite his best efforts, the effects of the battle catching up to him in a wave of exhaustion that few humans could fight. Inosuke was battered from his fight with Upper Three and, had fallen asleep albeit sitting against the wall. Miku should've been sleeping, weariness settling under her restless eyes - and perhaps she was resting in some way, sitting and leaning on her father's side. Her eyes were open. Her hands were clenched. She did not breathe and she did not blink.

"And... what of the other residents of the butterfly estate? Kotoha? Aoi? Kiyo?" Kyojuro asked the bird at the windowsill, knowingly.

"Alive." The crow's answer brought a sob to Doma's throat. The Flame hashira looked back and saw the demon holding his mouth, tears of relief pooling in his eyes. Miku hadn't stirred and the Flame Hashira began to suspect the girl was sleeping, simply resting with her eyes open. 

"Alive," Doma echoed gratefully. "Alive."

"And the demons?" Kyojuro inquired further: "Daki and Gyutaro?"

"Alive," nodded the crow.

Kyojuro smiled at the news and bowed: "Then send my regards to Kanae. Tell her that there are no further developments. Then, thank Kaname for his good work and expediency - tell him to rest his wings at the estate and keep an eye on things."

The crow clicked its beak in affirmance, rustling its feathers before it spoke again: "She wanted to thank the demon Doma and the child Mirakuru for the closure of Sumi Nakahara and Naho Takada. She sends condolences."

"As do we," Kyojuro breathed, looking back to the still child who slumbered by her father, the residue of her horrors washed away. She'd sobbed when she'd been asked to change clothes, clinging to the bloodied garbs wordlessly but desperately. 

Kyojuro looked back to the crow and saw it shift uneasily on its feet: "Miss Kiyo Terauchi has a message for Mirakuru Hashibira - she hopes 'Miku' is resting well, and is happy to hear she is alright. She also says she is sorry."

Doma looked up at that, his jaw tight just as Kyojuro's was.

"Thank you," the Flame Hashira nodded.

"We'll pass the message along," Mitsuri assured the crow. "Give Kanae our best. Tell her she's welcome to stay at my place!"

"Absolutely Kanroji," the bird cawed before flapping away into the sky.

The next crow to visit came from Giyu, asking for Tanjiro.

"I'm afraid the boy is resting right now, but we can take a message," Tengen reasoned.

"Oh... umm... alright. Master Urokodaki was attacked last night at... some... time..." the old crow tried to recall, completely oblivious to how his message sent a wave of shock through Kyojuro and Mitsuri.

"The retired water pillar?"Kyojuro demanded.

"Why!?" Mitsuri gawked.

"Wait - I'm here to say he is fine!" the crow cried wildly. "He's... he's fine! He sent us out to protect other retired pillars!"

"Others? Were others attacked?" Kyojuro demanded sharply.

"Uh..." the crow clicked its beak as it twisted its head as if trying to jog its memory. "Perhaps?"

"You've got to be kidding me," Tengen deadpanned. 

Obanai was far more ruthless with his insults: "Useless fucking messenger -"

"Ey! Ey! Ey! Respect your elders!" the crow reprimanded. "All's well! All's well! I... I think I can leave now."

"You may," Gyomei nodded.

The crow turned around, but stopped as it raised its wings; "WAIT - I need to see Tanjiro Kama... Kama..!"

"Kamado. As we told you, we will take the message for him," Kyojuro answered succinctly.

"Yes... but no. No, no, I need to - to see him, understand? Yes, yes I'm supposed to see him!"

Tengen rolled his eyes: "Why do you need to see Kamado?"

"To... To... to... Oh! To check on him! Tomioka asked! Very worried and all -"

"Oh!"Mitsuri gasped. "Of course! He's just a few houses down being treated. He was pretty badly wounded in the fight -"

"He'll live," Obanai stated firmly.

"But you tell Giyu that we're taking good care of him! We won't let him move a muscle until we can get him to Kanae!"

"We'll make sure the boy doesn't die in transport either!" Kyojuro assured.

"Badly injured and... will... die in transport?" the crow muttered breathed softly.

"No, dear God this thing is going to kill someone!" Tengen cried, jumping to his feet. "The boy's fine! He'll live! Tell Tomioka he's fine!"

"He's fine." The crow parroted.

"Kamado. Will. Live."

"Kamado will live." The old crow danced a bit happier at the thought. "Wonderful. I shall deliver the message!"

"Fucking -" Muichiro's curse was interrupted by Obanai.

"Should we just request a new crow for the idiot?"

"No." "Nooo!" Both Kyojuro and Mitsuri answered in tandem.

"Giyu loves his crow!"

"The crow serves us well. It would be a dishonor to him to relieve him of a sacred duty he hopes to die for."

Mitsuri nodded firmly: "And besides, he's trying his best!"

"His best is going to kill someone," Obanai reasoned.

"Then let that be Tomioka's choice," Gyomei stated firmly. "Thank you, Kanzaburo. Give the water pillar our best wishes."

The crow bowed, perhaps a bit ashamed. His feathers ruffled and it pulled a frown from Mitsuri and Kyojuro. The Love Pillar ran to the windowsill and grabbed the crow gently, hugging him to her cheek.

"You're a good messenger and Giyu loves you very much. Trust me, I know. Thank you for the message, it was important."

Kanzaburo clicked his beak before flapping out of Mitsuri's arms. "Thank you... I shall be off."

And off he flew to the right, before assumedly remembering where he was going and veering to the left. The hashira watched him go before Mitsuri turned to the room, hands on her hips and a frown on her face.

"Shame on all of you! Everyone helping out the corps is important and should be treated with respect!"

"He couldn't remember his message," Muichiro scorned, a darker look in his eyes as he held his empty shoulder.

Obanai only nodded: "Messing up that line of work gets slayers killed, and leads us right into traps, or delays reinforcements."

"Well, you didn't all need to be so mean about it," Mitsuri stayed firm. "Hasn't everyone been through enough?!"

And no one seemed to have an answer to that. Only thoughts.

The Master was dead, as was most of his family. The only survivors were Kiriya and Kanata: the heir and the youngest. The Butterfly estate lay destroyed. The swordsmith's village was in ruins. And now? Now, there had been word that older hashiras were attacked.

The very core of the demon slayers had been struck, and the list of casualties was only growing with the hour, black ink stains on the map before them pressing those thoughts to the forefront of their existence. Such facts settled in everyone's mind as Mitsuri turned back to the window and set her shoulders. She took a long breath, images of the carnage dancing in her mind as she cursed her inaptitude to properly tend to the dead... and avenge them. If she was crying, few noticed through their own misty eyes.

Kagaya... dead. Amane. Their children.

Tengen closed his eyes and leaned back, resting his head on his shoulder. Visages of a spring day with a much younger Ubuyashiki smiling at him - his eyes a soft violet, before time and cruelty had stolen his sight. Distantly, the sound pillar wondered if he'd ever thanked him for that day... and if it mattered. He wondered if his crow had made it to his wives yet... he wondered if they'd slept well last night. He wondered if they knew...

Kyojuro stood by the window, staring up at the sky. He could almost see Amane smiling, laughing in a familiar lilt. She'd been there when he'd first lost his hearing, laughing louder and teaching him basic signs as he recovered - back when he wasn't certain if he'd ever hear anything again.

Gyomei was stone-faced, the slash across his face hastily stitched by shaking hands. His tears flowed without remorse, likely stinging his wounds. His prayer beads clicked rhythmically as he prayed for the dead, the living, the tragedies, the heroes, and those left behind.

Muichiro stared into space, holding his missing arm, betraying nothing with his dry eyes but dangerous gaze. There was a war of a different caliber raging behind the youth's skull. Memories to be brushed off, dust to be dislodged, anger and hate to rekindle through years of forced amnesia and apathy. He remembered... and remembered... and remembered...

Obanai kept glancing at Mitsuri, an unfamiliar ache in his eyes as he stayed curled in his corner. His snake crept out from his shoulder and ran her tongue over the hashira's lashes, earning a gentle scratching and chasing the softest of tears from the man.

Doma only sat there, mindlessly pushing some hair out of Mirakuru's eyes, relieved they'd finally closed. She'd never slept with her eyes open before and it... bothered him. Inosuke's heart was a thing of warmth and comfort... as were Akaza's soft, steady breaths. The air reeked of death and smoke. The sunlight spilled through the window at the opposite end of the room, far enough away to make the demon relax, but close enough to remind him of how sunlight burned at demonic cells.

Close enough for terrible thoughts to trickle into his brain. Some of Muzan's more... taunting promises seared into his mind. This morning could've gone very... very differently.

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

There would be a hashira meeting in about a week. Long enough for Gyomei and Muichiro to become stable, along with buying time for any other wounded Kanae had to attend to. The two injured hashira were to rendevous at the Butterfly Estate which, though in shambles, was still the center of medicine with the Kocho sisters alive and alright.

Muichiro, Gyomei, and Tanjiro all needed to be ferried to the Estate, none of them in any state to walk on their own. Akaza hadn't stirred either. No one was certain he would except Inosuke and Tanjiro. Their positivity was... endearing.

Four wagons were put together, Tengen, Kyojuro, Mitsuri, and Doma all offering to pull their comrades as the corps were shorthanded and the surviving crews would be needed elsewhere, for clean-up and scavenging picking through far more desperate situations or helping to repair what the smiths had lost in the battle. It was decided that they would pull by weight, assorting the injured accordingly. Thus, they left the village as soon as the sun had set, Doma pulling Gyomei, Kyojuro following with Akaza, Mitsuri with the Kamados, and Tengen with Muichiro.

"This is ridiculous," Tengen objected for the seventeenth time as he pulled the lightest load.

"You lost the arm wrestle!" Misturi chimed, with the smallest of gloats. Nezuko's box was flung over her shoulder and Tanjiro was smiling in the wagon, his side wrapped tightly. Obanai beside the wagon, at Mitsuri's side, carrying nothing but his snake and sword. He'd offered to carry Nezuko's box but Mitsuri seemed happy to feel so useful and waved him off with a giggle, assuring him he'd be the group's protection, and that settled that.

Well... It didn't settle Tengen's wounded ego. Nothing would.

"Do you see the size of my arms? I can take the Kamado sister at least!" Tengen objected, flexing as he pulled the wagon with a single hand. "This kid weighs nothing! "

"Fuck you," Muichiro glared from where he sat, or... crouched, balancing on the side of the wagon like a perched bird.

"Sit back down! Doctor's orders!" Tengen snapped over his shoulder.

"I lost my arm, not a leg," Muichiro glowered hatefully but obeyed as he settled down. "I could walk."

"Best to rest for now!" Kyojuro called from ahead cheerfully. "Gather your strength young Tokito!"

Muichiro huffed but argued no further.

"Don't worry Mr. Tokito!" Tanjiro added hopefully, craning his neck to look behind him. "I'm sure you'll recover your strength soon! Don't worry, arm or no arm you'll be just as fearsome as you used to be!"

The boy was truly a beam of light in the dark road. Kyojuro nodded intensely: "Exactly young Kamado! Well said!"

"Oh great, there's two of them," Obanai hissed to Misturi who giggled at his eye-role. There was no bite in the Snake Hashira's words.

Zenitsu also smirked at that, walking at Tanjiro's side, still bruised but no worse off than anyone else. Inosuke led the group with Doma, Mirakuru asleep in his arms as he walked uncharacteristically quiet.

As the jabs continued, the demon turned a wary eye on his eldest.

"What's on your mind?" Doma asked him quietly.

Inosuke perked up, pulling his mask away from his face so Doma could see his heavy emerald eyes.

"Mom," the boy answered simply. "Daki and Gyutaro too."

The demon nodded, pulling the wagon over the bumpy portion of the road with ease. "As far as the crows say, they're alright."

"Yeah... but they're gonna be all upset."

"Upset?" Doma questioned.

"For losing Miku," he answered like it was obvious. "You know..."

No. Doma did not know. The thought hadn't even crossed his mind. Of course, now that it had, worry set about gnawing on his gut. Inosuke was right, they would be blaming themselves. Kotoha would be... oh dear...

"Mom's gonna blame herself for losing Miku, Daki's gonna blame herself, Gyutaro's gonna blame himself, Pink Ka-something's gonna blame herself, Purple Shino-something's gonna blame herself, and then there's the whole... well you know... The other two...  uh... Suma and... Na..hi? Was it Naho - fuck I am a shitty person -"

"You are not," Doma managed to correct that, at least.

"I am, and I'm shit with names."

"That doesn't mean you don't care."

"It should. Especially now that they're dead."

He was always a blunt one, but his lower tone hinted at the emotion there. That, and how he kept glancing at Miku as she slumbered in his arms.

"It's been a difficult day. Don't be too hard on yourself," the demon breathed with the one weight he couldn't lift resting in his throat.

"Fine: but you better do the same old man. This ain't your fault either."

To that, Doma laughed, weakly: "I'm afraid that's not how this works."

They walked on, Zenitsu and Tengen in some sort of heated debate that Mitsuri and Kyojuro were gently chuckling over. Tanjiro and Muichiro were talking from their wagons, each finding something to smile about. Gyomei seemed to have fallen asleep, ever ready even in rest, his ax and flail clenched in either hand.

A call stalled the group.

"Thank you!" a cry sounded out from behind them, and the group paused.

Everyone turned, Gyomei waking and sitting up as the other injured did so. Behind them stood a collection of swordsmiths standing at the gates of their home. They donned in their working clothes, sleeves rolled up to reveal their bruises and strains from either the fight or the rebuilding of the day. Tired bags sat under their eyes, but smiles graced their faces as they waved.

They were waving.

Laughing, grinning, calling, thanking them. Parents hoisted their children onto their shoulders and friends held each other close. Survivors clung to each other and cried their thanks to disgraced saviors. In the wake of the destruction, the decimation of their home that sat in the rubble behind them, there was an unstoppable joy in how they called to the slayers and the demons. 

Thank you, thank you, over and over again they laughed and cried to the stars.

Travel safe. Be safe. Thank you. We can never repay you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

Both Obanai and Muichiro lowered their heads, unable to face the crowd, but not quite looking away. Gyomei smiled, as did Zenitsu, though the hashira's was full of a strange serenity as he stared into space and seemed to breathe in the joyous calls. Tanjiro was crying, Mitsuri's eyes were lined with tears, and Tengen was waving slowly, juxtaposed by Kyojuro who was waving back heartily, laughing heartily with pure exuberance. Inosuke glanced back, finding something to smile about even if it was a heavy one.

Doma stared for a moment, letting everything and anything wash over him. The emotions, the empathy, the tragedies, and the strangest of all: the joy. The relief. 

We survived. They all seemed to say. We survived. And we'll live on. As will you.

Then Doma turned, and he took a breath, and he continued.

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

They made it to the Butterfly estate quickly in part thanks to Doma's speed and the hashira's strength. They had to pause when the sun came up, but the wisteria houses served as a shaded place of respite and recovery. It was a long journey, a trying journey, but finally, the estate came into view.

And oh was it a horrific sight.

The outskirts were in ruins, the shrubbery and trees ripped from their roots. Splinters and stones littered the walkways, lifetimes torn away in the span of a night. It had been almost two days since the attack, and yet Doma could still smell the death - the blood.

Daki had been all over the battlefield, he could smell her blood art clinging to some of the standing gates, the smallest slivers of torn ribbons visible where the sun never touched. The further they delved, the quieter the group became.

It was clear the demon slayers were... aching. They all showed it in different ways. Doma understood it - he felt it.

Anger. Grief. This had been a home, a truer home than all those before. He understood Gyomei's sorrowful scent and Muichiro's heavy breaths. He understood it when the handles of Mitsuri's wagon splintered under her grip. He understood Tengen's furious eyes and Kyojuro's pained ones.

This was supposed to be a... haven. No matter how volatile the world, how violent or virulent, this was a place of peace. This had always been a place of peace, even when injured slayers wailed and died, they did so knowing they were safe. Any death here had come at loving hands and sorrowful goodbyes. It had been... almost... heavenly.

There had been a sanctity there far more divine than anything Doma had come into contact with. A place of true belief and trust that now lay in ruins around them.

The garden was worse, the only remnants of the intruders lying in fallen nichirin swords and torn bits of cloth. Once bountiful gardens lay in utter disarray, every bloom squashed underfoot or strangled from Gyutaro's poison. It had been a fierce battle. It still felt like desperation hung in the air.

So much destruction. So much pain. Yet, with every step, Doma found himself consumed with only one thought. The walls were torn apart, the wooden pillars were splintered, and fallen ceiling tiles cracking under the wagon wheels as the group pressed forward, desperately straining to make out any sign of life in this mutilated corpse of an estate. Every collapsed room, every mountain of rubble, every hint of blood only pressed Doma on.

Kotoha. Kotoha. Kotoha.

Where was she? Where was everyone? How had she survived this? How had anyone survived this!? 

The trees were skeletons, branches torn away, and trunks splintered. The steps and walls of the front gate were nothing more than glorified rubble piles. Doma's chest grew tight as illogical panic began to ice in his breath.

She was fine. She was fine. The crow said she was fine. She had to be fine. She was -

"Dad," Inosuke's softness made Doma lurch forward, almost tripping over his numerous thoughts. He slowed, glancing back and realizing he'd nearly left the others in the dust. Tengen was catching up fast but Kyojuro and Mitsuri were slower.

What truly stalled Doma was Inosuke's eyes. Miku had not yet awoken, and Doma doubted she would for a while, but Inosuke seemed too awake. Too aware. He looked over the decimation before turning slowly to the demon, slightly out of breath from the expedient pace his father had mindlessly taken.

"That crow said she was okay, right?" Inosuke demanded after a moment, his eyes resting on a bloodstain hidden beneath a cave of rubble.

"Y... yes," Doma caught his wavering quickly, clearing his throat and nodding as surely as he could. "Yes... Yes."

"We know she is alive, Hashibira," Gyomei reasoned from where he sat in the wagon. "Stall your fears. You as well, Doma."

How did he sound so certain? Doma threw him a thankful smile, before remembering he definitely wouldn't see it.

"Where do you think everyone is? We're in the right place right?" Tengen called as he came to their side. "It would be so not-flashy if we were sent faulty directions!"

"Indeed," Gyomei pondered darkly. The bandages on his face and leg had been changed, but they were still lacking the finesse and expertise that Kanae and Shinobu had. The stitching on both Muichiro and Gyomei was haphazard at best and the boy had torn out two stitches in the trip alone. Going on much further without proper medical care was drifting into dangerous territory.

Before they could fret much further, the glorious call of a crow drew their attention. It was Kanae's crow, Kichita. She cried to the demon slayers below and swooped low to lead them further through the complex.

"Good a sign as any," Doma supposed, forcing himself to foster that hope.

They pressed forward a few moments more. Perhaps they should've called out, but they'd all learned long ago that to draw attention was to die. Even Inosuke seemed on edge, holding Mirakuru closer as he stared at the scratches carved into the remaining walls and ceilings.

Their steps echoed in the silence near painfully.

"Well... looks like Kocho won't need to ask for any more windows," Tengen supposed dryly as they passed a large hole in one of the walls.

"I'm sure that's exactly what she wants to hear," Muchiro scathed, causing the elder hashira to huff.

"Heavens forbid I try to lighten the mood."

Muichiro's eyes flashed darkly: "My mood's perfect."

Tengen rolled his eyes. "Clearly."

"Now, now, let's not ruin our spirits so close to the end of our journey!" Kyojuro laughed loudly, causing everyone to cringe.

"Would it kill you to be quiet!?" Obanai snarled.

"Sorry," Kyojuro supposed earnestly. "I was unaware that my volume was -"

Someone was running. Everyone heard it. Everyone knew what feet slamming against wood sounded like. Whoever it was, they were running, and fast. Hashiras reached for their sword, on instinct. Not Inosuke, Inosuke took a step forward, then another... and another.

A crow was calling, more people were running, one closer than the others.

By the time Inosuke had broken into a run, the scent slammed into Doma and he had gently placed the wagon on the ground before bolting leaving poor Inosuke in the wake of his superior speed.

They met at the corner and there wasn't even a moment to look at each other. They were in each other's arms, sobbing, laughing, gasping for breath as their knees gave out. She grabbed at his clothes and pulled in a desperate attempt to pull them even closer as they sat upon that sacred ground.

Doma felt joy explode in his chest as he held her close, nose buried in her hair and eyes blinded by the simple fact of alive. alive. She was alive. She was alright. 

It was true. The crow was right. His fears were alieved, his anxieties quelled. She was alright. It was only after they both pulled away that Doma's heart dropped and his body seized.

Her face was completely bandaged, her hair pinned beneath layers of gauze. One eye shone out as well as her smile, revealing light scratches that peppered her skin and the residue of splinters in her arms. She was bruised, her arms carried the marks of a fierce battle and her legs were badly battered.

He searched for words, but he had none. He searched for emotions, but he couldn't name them. He held the unharmed side of her face and stared into her crying eye. She cupped his face as a relieved sob bubbled up from her throat in a laugh.

She was hurt. She was alive. She was hurting. She was happy.

He... he was...

Inosuke was between them and Kotoha almost wailed. She cradled him in a way she hadn't done since he was a boy, rocking him as she gently held tightly to Mirakuru. As soon as she could she held that little girl to her chest and reached out to pull Doma even closer.

He was with her. He grabbed her and Inosuke to pull them together, hoping the span of his arms was enough for once to protect them. To shield them. 

Kotoha peppered Mirakuru's face with kisses, sobbing as she looked her over for injuries. When she was sure she had found none she tucked the sleeping girl into her shoulder and did the same to Inosuke.

"Oh, my baby," she breathed as she pressed their foreheads together, Inosuke laughing and crying all at once.

"Mom," Inosuke's voice held all the horror there needed to be. Yet Kotoha hushed him.

"No, no, no, it's okay. I'm okay. You're okay. She's okay... we're okay..."

"But Mom," Inosuke stared at her face and she only hiccuped through her smile, joy bursting from her as she pressed another kiss to her son's forehead.

"It's okay," she breathed. "It's okay."

Doma felt his ribs twist in his chest as he buried his head into her free shoulder. He could feel her heartbeat there, beating strong and true against his nose and echoing in his head. She was alive. She was hurt. He hadn't protected her. He had brought this upon her. He had left her.

She was alive.

A hand weaved into his hair and her weak chuckle was heaven's song to him.

"I'm okay," she breathed softly, her exhale fluttering over his skin. "You're okay... this is okay."

He couldn't speak. He couldn't do anything but hold. Hold her. Hold Inosuke. Hold Miku. Hold it all together as tears flowed from his eyes and ran cooly onto Kotoha's shoulders.

"You brought her home," Kotoha's voice broke as she hugged him even tighter. "You found her and brought her home."

Inosuke and Mirakuru were nestled between them now, pressed up against both figures but not uncomfortable yet. They sat there for a moment, warming each other in their presence and hiding their tears in one another's embrace.

When they pulled away, Doma realized he was nearly sobbing. He pulled back, covering his face with a hand, but keeping a firm hold on the sleeve of Kotoha's kimono. He couldn't let her go - he didn't dare. Mirakuru slept on, tucked into Kotoha's arm as she always had, far before she knew anything about demons or hell or horrors or death. Inosuke knelt at her side, a hand clenching her kimono and his eyes on the ground.

"I'm..." the words were there now. It was a fight to find them, but they were there. "I'm... so... I'm so sorry -"

"Don't," Kotoha pleaded, surging forward to gently grab his wrist. Her voice was a whisper because it had to be. She was rasping, the bandaging reaching down to her neck where a slight discoloration was forming: "Don't you dare. You brought them home."

His breath froze at the sight of fresh blood staining her gauze: "You're -"

"Lucky," she vowed through a rasped breath. "I'm so... so lucky you're okay. We're so lucky."

Her hand pulled his back to her so she could kiss his knuckles. In return her cradled her unharmed cheek, feeling himself break as she so easily leaned into the gesture.

"You're hurt," he broke as terribly as his voice did, his form shaking as he smelled it. The pain. The blood. The medicinal tang that stained Kotoha's presence.

He'd done this. He'd brought this to her. He always did. He always had. Now it had caught up to her. It had caught up to all of them. Inosuke, Kotoha, Miku, Akaza...

"You're alive," Kotoha sobbed in return, releasing his hand to pull Mirakuru and Inosuke closer. "You're all alive."

And it was true.

Gods be damned and Muzan be spited they were.

"KOTOHA!" Mitsuri was just a few feet away from the group, her hands covering her mouth as she looked at the woman, stuck between wanting to hug her and not daring to interrupt the tender moments. "Are you okay!?"

"Mitsuri!" Kotoha cried in joy.

Inosuke recognized the danger too late: "WAIT -"

The two women embraced, Inosuke caught between them. Miku was too, but the slumbering girl didn't seem to mind. Mitsuri squeezed, not too tightly, but tight enough to make Kotoha laugh weakly. The Love Hashira pulled away and stared at Kotoha seriously, kneeling before her.

"Did it get your eye? Your cheek? Your skull!? Is your throat okay, you sound kind of... hurt? Should you even be out of bed!? Oh, but you're okay!" Mitsuri spoke for all of them and gave Doma a moment to collect himself.

The family stood, Kotoha holding Miku in a manner that Doma knew well. She wasn't going to let her go any time soon. He pressed himself to her side, still clinging to her sleeve and unable to bring himself to let her go. She didn't seem to mind, not based on the way she intertwined a pinky with his. A quiet promise.

"Oh, you're okay," Kotoha smiled, the joy on her face nearing something beyond with a smile: "You're all okay!"

Kyojuro and Tengen both grinned brightly. Tanjiro and Zenitsu waved from the back.

"Hi Miss Hashibira!" "Hi Kotoha!"

But it was the next voice that caught everyone's attention. Kotoha wasn't the only one to come running

"Oh!" it was a thankful cry of realization that brought a smile to everyone's lips. Running around the corner was a flustered, tired, weary, but oh-so-alive Kanae.

She wore a protective kimono, reserved for surgeries, splattered with blood likely from the newest one. There were dark circles under her eyes but a pure grin as she ran towards the group, her eyes dancing over them all and sparking life back into her irises.

"Oh, everyone," she breathed as she reached Doma first. She gave Kotoha a critical look but didn't dare disturb the reunion.

 Then, she turned back to Doma, smiling and squeezing his shoulder before turning to Inosuke. She cupped his face silently in a thankful breath, leaning down to weakly breathe in relief before she studied Miku, pushing some wild bangs out of her serene sleepy face. 

"She's okay," Kotoha laughed, tears sting clinging to her lashes. Kanae could only smile weakly, before moving on. A shared but quiet jubilation there.

It was a silent sort of greeting, no one finding the words to say as the eldest Kocho sister went to each and every one of them, studying their wounds and grinning at their survival. She hugged Mitsuri who sniffled and hugged her back, it was short-lived, it had to be - there was work to do. Kanae moved on.

 She squeezed Gyomei's hands as she studied his legs, side, and face, humming thoughtfully before turning to the next wagon. She graced Tengen with a passing touch on his shoulder before fretting over Muichiro. He took it well, all things considered, and relaxed when she placed a hand on his head and smiled, weakly.

"I am glad we did not lose you," she praised.

Muichiro looked away, biting his lip and Kanae moved on.

She and Kyojuro fell into each other's embrace, light laughs on their lips as they squeezed one another. Kyojuro's laugh broke the spell of silence and everyone's chest seemed to warm.

"Oh Kyo, You're alive," Kanae thanked everything she could with that breath, the universe, the gods, any higher powers - any powers at all that allowed it to be so. 

Kyojuro only laughed and bear hugged her tighter: "As are you!"

They pulled away just in time for Misturi to crash into the three of them. Kanae held her close as they laughed all weakly. Mitsuri lifted Kanae up and wailed:

"Oh Kanae it was awful. All this is awful! I'm so happy you're okay but ohhh it's just awful!" Misturi was crying into Kanae's chest and Kanae was laughing with tears in the corner of her eyes as she hugged her friend and thanked everything in the universe.

"But we're alive," she breathed after a moment, pulling away from Mitsuri. "We're alive..."

A new solemn air took over as Kanae's eyes grew darker and she continued her doctorly duties. She ran a hand down the wagon Akaza slept in, her brow furrowing in worry but easing when she looked over and saw Tanjiro's smiling face.

"Kamado," she greeted.

"Hello, Miss Kocho!" Tanjiro greeted.

"Good to see you're still with us."

"Despite his best efforts," Zenitsu butted it quickly, Nezuko's box on his back. "He's got, like, seven holes in his chest! SEVEN!"

Tanjiro laughed, wincing at the action: "It's not too bad. And it's only four."

"NOT TOO BAD!" Zenitsu shrieked, once more making everyone flinch

Kanae gently pushed Tanjiro's clothing away to study the bandages and the gently red that pushed through.

"Mitsuri, take Tanjiro down the hall and into the further room on your left. I want to look at him immediately," Kanae ordered.

"Yes Ma'am!" Mitsuri giggled, picking her wagon back up and moving quickly, one wheel on what remained of the floor, and the other in the grass of the garden as that entire wall was gone. Obanai went to follow before Kanae grabbed his sleeve.

"It's good to see you alive too, Iguro," she smiled.

Obanai nodded solemnly: "You too, Kocho."

He went off and Kanae turned to the rest of the group: "I need Muichiro and Gyomei in the room next to where Tanjiro's going. Brace yourselves, I may have to redo some stitching."

"Figured," Muichiro supposed, jumping out of the cart.

Tengen gawked before puffing up in frustration: "Wha -excuse you! You are injured, get in the cart!"

"Mmmm, nah," Muichiro rolled his eyes and pressed onward, after Mitsuri.

"Oh, that little... Doma, I'm taking your cart. I'll take Gyomei then!" Tengen huffed, doing just that.

"I could also walk," Gyomei supposed.

"Absolutely not!" Kanae snapped, and that was that.

Tengen pulled the wagon after Mitsuri, pausing only as he passed Doma who blinked in concern: "Are you sure, Tengen?"

"Oh most certainly!" Tengen smiled proudly, lifting the handles. "I, more than anyone, know better than to disturb a reunion between a husband and wife!"

And with no further explanation, the Sound Pillar pressed onward leaving Doma to stand there for a moment and try to decipher what he was supposed to take away from the conversation. Kotoha leaned on his shoulder and he found all other thoughts fleeting as he relished her breathing.

"What about Akaza, Kanae," Kyojuro's voice pulled everyone's attention back to the last wagon.

The floral hashira was staring at the pale demon critically, sighing after a moment: "I don't have the faintest clue where to start with him. For now, take him to the South wing, we've boarded it up as best we can for the demons. Zenitsu, you go with him too and drop Nezuko off there. If you can, double-check the windows and the roof. Daki and Gyutaro have had no complaints, but I don't want a ray of sunshine to breach that wing."

"Alright!" Zenitsu nodded fiercely. "I shall make sure there is not a crack that would allow the wretched sun to harm Nezuko!!"

Everyone stared at him for a moment.

"Or... uh... you know... any of the other demons either," he finished shyly.

Kanae shook her head and Kyojuro barked a laugh before obeying the orders. He stopped just as Tengen had, and Kotoha drifted closer, the rest following her.

"Hello Kyojuro," Kotoha greeted warmly.

"Kotoha," the Flame Hashira grinned, endearingly loud. "I am pleased to see you on your feet! Though the crows failed to mention your... predicament."

"Oh, this?" Kotoha gestured to her face. "Just a little setback."

Doma eyed her nervously, he knew one of Kotoha's lies when he heard one.

She then looked over the wagon with furrowed brows. She leaned over the edge to place a hand on Akaza's forehead, fretting before gently reaching out to feel for a pulse: "What happened?"

"He fought bravely," Kyojuro praised. "But drained himself too much."

Doma nodded, finding words easier to come by now that the tidal wave of emotion had passed: "He held off Kokushibo for a while, and in the fight... he... was... well, he was decapitated."

Kotoha's eyes widened as she looked back to Doma desperately: "And he didn't -"

"He didn't," Doma nodded resolutely. "I... I don't know how... but he grew his head back. He... found a way to keep fighting."

Kotoha's worry slowly faded away as another relieved laugh choked her: "I should've known. Far too stubborn, Akaza, you're far too stubborn."

She gave him a passing smile before nodding to Kyojuro: "Sorry to stall you."

"No, no!" the hashira laugh. "On the contrary, I think he would be much amiss if you weren't allowed to see him. Besides, he seems stable enough, I doubt there is much need to rush anything. He'll return to us in time!"

The pillar must've seen the flashes of doubt on all of their faces because he laughed louder.

"Keep faith! As you said, he's far too stubborn," it was the quietest he'd ever been, but likely also the most earnest. 

With a passing smile and wave, the flame hashira pulled the wagon away. The group watched him and Zenitsu depart, leaving the family with Kanae.

"See you around Inosuke!" Zenitsu grinned.

Inosuke returned with a toothy smile and a wave: "Don't choke on any medicine Zenboku."

"Oh my god - you can't still not know my name. You said it! I know you said it!" Zenitsu's voice faded as he began to round the corner. "You can't fool me! I know you do it on purpose, Inosuke!"

Inosuke cackled as the yells tampered out, and the family turned to the last hashira in the hall with them.

Kanae looked at them with a familiar smile. "Now... Kotoha..."

"Yes, I know," Kotoha laughed weakly, holding her throat for a moment with a grimace. "But really, I had to."

"I know," Kanae supposed. "Now Doma, Inosuke, if you would so kindly escort Miss Hashibira back to her cot for her mandated bed rest."

Inosuke nodded firmly: "Will do!"

"Are you alright to walk? I can carry Miku," Doma immediately began to fret.

She laughed him off: "I can walk, and... I'd like her to stay with me for... for just a little bit."

"Well if you're going to carry her then I'm going to have to request that he carry you," Kanae scolded softly. "I don't want you doing anything strenuous."

"Kanae," Kotoha reprimanded gently, at least until she saw how hopeful Doma looked and how wickedly sly Kanae's grin was. "Oh, Kanae... you are a true menace."

"Perhaps," Kanae supposed wryly.

"Alright," Kotoha smiled, a small blush tinting her cheek: "Doma..."

There was no other word needed as she was swept off her feet and carried, safely cradled in Doma's arms. It was good, to hold her close. To have her laugh in his arms and feel her lungs against his forearms. To have her heart beating so close to his chest as she rested there, her injured side safely protected between his shoulder blade and arteries.

Inosuke was grinning as she walked by their side.

"Down the hall, make a left, then a right. Second door on your left," Kanae ordered simply. "Consult Shinobu if you get lost."

"Thank you, Kanae," Doma looked to the hashira meaningfully. 

"Yes," Kotoha concurred softly: "Thank you."

Kanae only shook her head solemnly.

"Do not thank me, either of you." And with that she was back to work, pulling on a new set of gloves. "Thank fate, or gods, or luck - whatever you believe in. I had no hand in it."

She left, knowing full well everyone in that building disagreed with her.

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

The funerals for Sumi and Naho were to come first, within the week. It was a chaotic frenzy of repairs and medical procedures, but the moments of planning such things were solemn, serious, and needed. Such things could not be postponed. Some things should not be postponed.

They feared Miku wouldn't awaken in time. They also feared she would. 

The funeral was in two days.

Doma fretted over it from Kotoha's bedside - and Miku's bedside. Kanae had allowed them to rest next to each other, in part because Kotoha's room was one of the few without windows, and also because Kotoha refused to let the girl out of her sight for the first day or so. Not that girl moved at all, Doma stood vigilant over their bedsides, hardly stirring unless someone called for him or Kanae tended to Kotoha.

Kotoha always remained still as the hashira carefully unwrapped the old bandages, a sterilized batch of new gause in the bowl next to her. Doma watched, as he always did, and he clenched his jaw, as he always would.

Kotoha's injury was not as superficial as she assured others. A gashing attack had torn her eye, cheek, jaw, and throat. She rasped because she'd been centimeters away from losing an artery, though her windpipe wasn't a great alternative. Even then, the damage to her throat was minimal - as minimal as near-arterial throat injuries could be. Her eye couldn't be saved, and there was a marring mess of stitches and gore hidden beneath her bandages

The first few times she'd asked him to step away.

"I'm told it's not too pretty," she warned him with a weak laugh. He'd grabbed her hand firmly, falling to his knees beside her bed with a fatal seriousness.

"Don't ask me to leave," he'd begged. "Ask me anything else..."

She'd thought about it, sorrow tinting her eye: "Then... could you look away?"

That, he could. And he did. For the first three days he did, until the night before when he'd sat next to her cot and listened to her breath hitch.

"What is it?" he asked, softly, worry chewing through his throat.

"Nothing," she lied from where she lay, croaking the words out.

He stood, wanting to reach out, but hesitating before he could initiate that touch on her shoulder. She sensed him, as she always had, and reached up to close that distance and pull his hand closer, trying to slow her breathing. 

He was there, he was always there, and he was always useless. He could lean over her, gently easing his way halfway on the accursedly small cot to hold her close and feel her warmth. It eased her trembling but did not stall her breaths.

"Is it the pain?" he asked.

She shook her head, wincing: "No... well... perhaps a little."

"What else?"

And she had laughed, well... scoffed and laughed. "It's not important, I promise. It's just late and I'm... thinking."

"Yes, I have heard of something known as 'thinking'," he tried to joke, and it worked. She sputtered and threw him a teasing glare.

"You may have invented the concept of overthinking, Doma."

"I... may struggle with such things, yes," he concurred, balancing on his knee so he could lay his head on her arm and stare at her in that familiar faux innocence. "But that just means I know when you're doing it."

"Oh, do you?" she taunted in a rasp.

"I do."

She sighed with a smile, looking across the room at those dark thoughts. He squeezed her hand just to try and chase such darkness away.

"Tell me," he urged. "Whatever you want to tell me, just..."

"I... of all the things to be worried about right now! " Kotoha scorned herself and Doma only smiled in response, urging her onward.

"I..." The words caught in her throat for a moment, and a cough only worsened her pain. It made Doma's heartache as she clung to him until the wave passed. When it departed, the shadows  returned to her eyes, and her voice was tight: "I fear I won't be able to sing anymore..."

Oh...

He'd pulled her hand closer and kissed it, leaning lovingly on her arm.

"It's stupid, isn't it," she seethed against herself and Doma found it easy to shake his head.

"No, no I don't think it is at all."

"I'm lucky to be alive."

"You're hurt."

"And worrying about... superficial things... like my voice and... my face."

"It's not so simple, love," he soothed. "It's never that simple."

They sat there for a moment, Kotoha's free hand starting to weave through Doma's hair, gently untangling his knots.

"It's how I met you..." it had been a weak confession, pulling Doma's eyes onto Kotoha's trembling lips. "It's all I had... before... you. It's what I've always had... and now... oh I have so much more, it - it shouldn't... it shouldn't even..."

Doma pulled himself forward, slowly, getting off his knees so he could lean closer to her face and press a kiss to her cheek, hanging there for a moment as the smell of tears and blood filled his senses. 

"I'm sorry." It was all he could say, all his existence seemed to be right now. "I'm so, so sorry."

"Do not," she'd almost growled. Clenching his hand tighter. "If you had been here, Miku never would've escaped that place. If you - if you hadn't been there and she'd been taken I... I can't bear to think of..."

He was on one knee again as she sat up, cupping her face as she tried to gather up her control. Doma could only hold on to what he could, pressing gently kissed on her knuckles as her form shook.

"I couldn't - I couldn't save her. I couldn't protect Inosuke from him and now..."

Doma was creeping up, disregarding Kanae's warnings as he maneuvered himself onto the cot, pulling Kotoha into his arms even if the medical bed strained beneath them.

"You always protected Inosuke, you always protected Mirakuru," he breathed in her ear as if it were a prayer. "If I cannot blame myself, neither can you. That's logical, isn't it?"

"Logic," Kotoha scorned again, covering her eyes as tears slipped past her fingers. 

"Please... please don't torment yourself."

They lay there for a moment, Kotoha leaning back on Doma's chest and listening to the rhythm of breathing she knew he was choosing to partake in.

"I just feel so..." she searched desperately for the word as she pulled her hand away. It seemed to catch in her throat and she bit down a curse. Doma squeezed her hand again.

I love you he wanted to say. He wanted to say it loud enough to drown out everything in her head. He wanted to keep saying it until all else was forgotten.

"Useless..." was the confession instead, and it carved through Doma's organs. "I feel so useless," Kotoha breathed.

"No, no," he denied. "You know that's not true. You created the wisteria concoction, you helped Daki and Gyutaro, you -"

"I just... feel it," she admitted weakly, before laughing. "It never bothered me much, before. I'm human. You're a demon. You, Akaza, Gyutaro, Daki... Miku... It never bothered me but now..."

"Now it does?" he guessed softly.

She shook her head, pulling their entwined hands to her chest: "No... no... but I can't help you. Not how you help me. I can't protect you all and that... that - I hate that."

Doma chuckled and nodded: "I know... I hate it too."

She chortled: "Yes... I suppose all those lectures I gave you about putting all that on your shoulders were misplaced."

"Not misplaced," he denied. "But maybe you should take your advice."

She let out a long sigh, her eye fluttering weakly with weariness: "What are we going to do, Love?"

He pulled her a bit closer and laughed into the crown of her head, weakly: "What we always do... I suppose."

She nodded and settled against him, closing her eye and taking her breath.

"I love you," he promised her.

Her eye opened slowly to glance up at him: "Even when I'm missing half my face?" she laughed in a half-joke. One Doma treated with full seriousness, kissing her head and squeezing her hand.

"Forever and always," he swore. 

She laughed weakly, something catching in her throat as she kissed his hand again.

"I love you too."

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

Miku woke up the next day, sixteen hours away from the formal funeral for Sumi and Naho. She'd awoken next to her mother, Doma hovering a few feet away, Inosuke grinning with all his teeth. She woke up, looked around, and cried when she threw herself into her Mother's arms and heard her laugh. She cried and sobbed and wailed, and then she was quiet. 

"He killed them," she whispered to Kotoha. There was rage there. Dangerous, poignant rage. And Kotoha could only hold her closer.

The funeral was... hard.

The graveyard was horrifying in its own right. Kanae was willing to change the time of the funeral, but Doma was quick to quell her. A resting place for demon slayers was better off not trodden on by demons. Especially when there were a likely few placed there by Doma's hands, brought to an untimely death by a cruel apathetic Upper Two.

But what he heard from Kotoha would haunt him for a long time. He'd known the casualties of demon slayer had been numerous, but he... he'd never had a true measurement of those proportions.

The funeral was in the afternoon. Kotoha, Miku, and Inosuke left to attend it despite Kotoha's mandated bed rest. There were many exceptions made for the public service. Many hashiras attended the ceremony, they were already present for the upcoming hashira meeting, and all were happy to stand in solidarity with the Kocho sisters. Even Gyomei and Muichiro attended, despite their wounds. Other slayers paid their respects to the young girls who had helped so many with more than just wounds. 

There would be a more intimate ceremony, reserved for Kiyo, Aoi, Kanaeo, Shinobu, and Kanae alone. They spent the night before ensuring there would be no pressing medical emergencies, giving instructions twofold as to what to do if something went wrong. Crows were on standby to pull them back to the mansion should something disastrous go wrong with the many injured.

Doma had offered to help, meagerly. He was... lacking in such skill departments, and the plethora of sunshine streaming in through the windows posed more than a minor issue, but he was willing to try.

Kanae had smiled and Shinobu had scoffed. 

So, there he was. Alone in an empty medical room, standing idly next to Kotoha and Miku's empty bedspreads. If he was a better person, he'd be praying for Sumi and Naho's souls. Then again, he wasn't sure such things existed. Souls, afterlife, god. If there were gods over this earth, they were unspeakably cruel to allow such monsters to kill such innocence.

They were cruel to have allowed him to suffocate such innocence. He sat down on the cot and allowed his mind to wander, which was a dangerous thing. The week had given him far too much time to think over the horrific night. How close he'd come to losing it all. How close he'd been to being a victim after so many years of being the perpetrator. The monster in the night. The demon.

Inosuke could've died - should've died. From the sound of it, the only reason he hadn't been reduced to fish corpses was Gyokko's prideful gloating followed by Obanai and Tengen's quick intervention. Mirakuru should've died, alongside Doma. Muzan should've been the expected victor, as always. Kotoha...

Kotoha could've died.

But they hadn't, and Muzan had technically lost? Well, not completely. The loss of Ubuyashiki was a foul taste in everyone's mouth. No one was ready to face that grief or consequence. It would arrive, soon. That hashira meeting would likely change the course of the corps. A hashira meeting he had been invited to.

Because that message had stunned him to his core. What did that mean? Was that a good sign, or a bad one? Was he suddenly ranked as highly as the hashira - a monster in a den of slayers? Or was he a responsible party?

It was his family that had turned Muzan's eyes to the corps so heavily. If they had stayed hidden, if they had continued to run, perhaps the Demon King would've kept his resources spread. Perhaps the slayers would've been safer - minor pests instead of pressing enemies. Perhaps the swordsmith village could've stayed safe, Kiriya and Kanata wouldn't be orphans, slayers would be alive, Gyomei wouldn't be deteriorating, Muichiro would have both his arms, Akaza would be awake -

"Uh...Mr... Doma?" 

The approach startled him. So lost in his thoughts he'd been blind and deaf to all life around him, including the yellow-clad slayer now perched at the doorway.

"Zenitsu?" The demon forced the words out, surprise tinting his tight throat. The boy was supposed to be at the funeral. Carefully, the ex-kizuki unclenched the blankets balled in his fists and forced the tension away from his spine and shoulders. "What are you doing here?"

There was something... off. Shadows slept underneath the boy's restless eyes and he looked as if he carried seven tons on his shoulders.

"I was wondering if you knew where I could find Miss Kocho's medicine stash?" It was a monotone request, tinted with exhaustion and reservation.

"Perhaps," Doma supposed, standing slowly. "Is everything alright?"

The boy shrugged: "Just... wondering. I, uh - " he cleared his throat " - just need something to sleep."

Doma slowly looked to the sunlight streaming in from down the hall a few safe feet away, and turned a critical eye to the boy: "You've been restless?"

He hadn't seen the boy much, but he'd been in higher spirits when they'd first gotten to the mansion. Was the scenario settling on him as heavy as it had settled on Doma? Or was this something else?

"Just a little," Zenitsu lied. Exhaustion leaked off his form like a foul stench. "And no one else here seems to know where the pills are being kept."

"Yes, well... most are at the funeral," Doma supposed critically. He was caught in a tug of war. He didn't actually know where Kanae would keep such medicine, but he could guess. Then again, sending a child to self-medicate felt just about as intelligent as asking Inosuke to show self-restraint. "Were you supposed to receive another dosage?"

The boy's eyes quickly shifted away and Doma felt his expression harden. If he could remember the boy's last name, he would've used it.

"Zenitsu -"'

"Thank you for your help," the boy cut him off quickly. "Sorry to bother you."

The boy quickly turned and left, leaving Doma to stride to the door and watch him depart. The child was smart, immediately turning to where the sunlight spilled in the window, where Doma could not follow.

"Whatever haunts you," Doma called, seeking desperately for any words that might be beneficial. Wishing desperately that he was anyone else. "Whatever it is... speak to someone about it, please."

Zenitsu paused, bathed in the afternoon sunlight he looked almost golden. He turned an eye back and put on a weak smile: "Have a good day."

And then he left, leaving Doma feeling useless and inadequate, as usual. Whatever was eating away at the boy was not a beast a demon could quell, likely. Perhaps he'd gently nudge Inosuke in the right direction - was that manipulation? That might be manipulation. He'd do it anyway.

He'd definitely tell Kanae, that was without question. She was better equipped to deal with this anyway. He was laughably pathetic at helping people - he couldn't even help himself. Or those who trusted him.

Knowingly, he looked up at the ceiling, where a cramped attic sat above them. Its residence had made no noise in the five days he'd been below them.

"They won't come out," Kotoha had sighed. "I think they feel guilty that I got hurt. They won't speak to me... maybe they'll speak to you."

Right. That was another issue.

Oh well, while on the topic of how useless he was with people, may as well give the siblings another shot.

He couldn't fix anything, but he'd probably put off trying long enough. It was a good time too. Kotoha was gone, and the mansion was mostly void of wanderers unless Zenitsu decided to come back around which was... less than likely now.

Carefully, he moved back into the side room, striding past the empty cots to the very back corner where a small door in the ceiling led him to his quarry. He'd opened it, plenty. He'd pulled down the ladder and called up to the two in the attic.

Daki and Gyutaro had not responded. Not even a whisper.

He could smell and sense them. They were there, just a few feet above his head. Everything else was an uncomfortable creep of silence. He'd never actually gone upstair, figuring the two needed space or time or something of the sort.

But maybe that was his own chest wanting such things.

Space. Time. Silence. Avoidance...

He pulled down the ladder and ascended it slowly, softly. He doubted that he'd startle them, but that didn't mean he wanted to invade their area so... crudely. His head poked through the door after ascending one rung, and there he stopped, staring inside at the shadowed area.

Well... mostly shadowed. He was a little horrified to see a portion of the roof torn away, sunlight spilling into the attic and souring half of the small space. Smaller cracks in the roof allowed small needles of sunlight to dot the space, a constant danger.

He didn't have to look for them or call. Ribbons covered every shadowed space, weaved between wooden beams and pulled taught to form what may have been considered a nest. Daki lay there, lounged on her stomach and mindlessly twisting one of her smaller ribbons in her finger. Gyutaro was behind her, back to Doma as he lounged on his sister's neck, silently tossing his sickle in the air and catching it as it came down.

They did not address him.

He climbed higher, daring to hoist himself into the space, hoping that the roof would handle his weight. He had to crouch seeing how low the tilted ceiling was, the top of his head scraping against the wooden panels. He didn't press forward, but stayed by the door and looked to the two younger demons.

They were very purposefully avoiding his gaze.

Alright, now to formulate some sort of assurance and comfort. He had to carefully navigate this and say something uplifting, but not too cheery -

"It's not your fault," he said instead. It felt right in the beginning, but in retrospect was not the smartest move.

Daki tensed, glancing at him firmly before shrugging.

"Okay."

Okay? What was he supposed to take away from that? He couldn't even start to guess what emotion was hiding under that monotone - was it monotone? - statement. He stood there, silent, desperately trying to think of what to say next.

"Um... do you wish to talk about it?" he grimaced.

Daki raised her eyebrows, acknowledging him finally. She raised her head and flashed a smile that he almost would've bought.

"Nothing to talk about," she shrugged with a familiar nonchalant smugness. She was scarily good at lying, Doma realized, because that sounded, felt, and smelled earnest. That... was so strange.

He looked to the scene around them and then back to her, with a critical glare: "You haven't moved, or spoken to anyone since I've returned."

"I moved," Daki defended. "And I spoke to Gyutaro!"

Her brother did not help her case by sitting there silently.

Okay... new approach. Doma grappled with his options (fighting the urge to just go back downstairs and wait for someone more capable to return) and found something a little bit more tangible.

"Kotoha is worried about you," he fished. 

That was... a poor choice.

Daki bristled, sneering before rolling over on her bed, her back to Doma. Wonderful, now he had two demons who wouldn't even look at him. This was... annoyingly hard.

He sat down and took a breath to cool his chest. Alright... alright... where could one take this conversation next? Getting frustrated seemed the wrong choice, even if it was bubbling under his skin. Getting demanding would have the opposite effect. They hadn't wanted to talk about Kotoha (Gyutaro didn't seem to want to talk at all). He could get sad, but he didn't actually feel sad, and faking it may be... in poor form.

How would Akaza deal with it? He'd be blunt, but he could be blunt because he was Akaza. His cruelties were kind because he was always earnest. Doma had been too deceptive for too long, being blung just felt... harsh.

How would Kotoha do it? She would wait, she would listen, and then she'd speak. But that was because people spoke to her, they trusted her because she had always proven to be trustworthy. Doma did not have that relationship with anyone. No one just sat down and confided in him, except perhaps Miku and Inosuke (then again Inosuke never felt the need for a confidante, if he needed to speak, he spoke).

That left... sitting still until one of them decided to talk. He would just sit there until one party got tired of it... But then again Daki and Gyutaro had been doing that for days. And the funeral wouldn't last all day. There was a time constraint.

Then what was he supposed to do!?

How was he supposed to fix this? What even was there to fix? He wanted Gyutaro and Daki to feel better but that was hypocritical coming from him? Why did Kotoha feel that he was the one to deal with this? He couldn't even deal with himself!

He looked back to the siblings and grappled with his options. They didn't seem to notice or care for his mental struggles at the moment. How was he supposed to bridge this gap when it seemed to grow by the moment? How was he supposed to soothe Daki and Gyutaro when they didn't want it?

Think, Doma, think. What worked? What opened the two up in the first place?

Desperation. A need to get away from Muzan.

But what made them more tense allies? When had they transitioned from an uneasy partnership to a familial bond - because that is what this was. They were family. Inosuke thought so, Miku thought so, Kotoha thought so, Doma -

Had Doma ever said so? Had Daki and Gyutaro ever said so? 

Maybe that was a worthy approach. Earnestness. Saying things that he figured everyone knew, but hadn't been said. Voicing the beast gnawing in his chest.

"I'm worried about you," he explained softly. 

Neither sibling stirred, but Doma found the words lessened the weight on his shoulders. He... he could do this at least. He hadn't always been honest, but he wanted to be.

So he continued: "I'm worried you're pulling away. Worried you think I'm mad or vengeful for what happened. I'm worried that something is hurting the two of you, and I am even more worried that I can't help. I am bad at this, all of this, and I don't know what to do to make it right."

"Make what right?" Daki sat up with a hiss, whirling to him. "What would you need to make right!?"

"Whatever this is," Doma managed clumsily. "Whatever... whatever has sent you into this... drull."

"We're fine! This is fine! Everything about us is fine!" Daki snarled, jumping to her feet and gesturing to the wrecked attic. "So stop worrying and go away!"

"I..." Doma grimaced. "I feel that's not the case -"

"Just shut up! Shut up! Go away! We don't want you here! We're happy here, nothing's wrong! Nothing!"

She stomped her foot and covered her ears, hissing and snarling as her ribbons fluctuated with her fury. The attic groaned under the strain of the ribbons, but neither Gyutaro nor Doma stirred.

"Daki -" Doma tried to soothe.

"No!" She hissed. "No! You don't get to pity me! You don't get to pity us! You don't get to do anything! Just shut up and go back where you belong and we'll stay up here!"

Doma tilted his head, confused: "Where... you belong?"

"Yes!"

"Why would you belong up here?"

"Because!" Daki heaved with a frantic wave of her hands. She took a step forward, forgetting about a loose beam of sunlight from a hole in the ceiling. It touched her outstretched hand and she flinched, pulling away with a hiss as she cradled her burned hand. 

Doma was on his feet instinctively, shying away when Daki stumbled back. Fear. There'd been fear in her scent for a moment. Gyutaro had stopped throwing his scythe in the air, gripping it closely instead.

Doma looked for words but found himself once more pathetically useless.

"Because." Daki echoed again, holding her healing hand to her chest and glaring at the wood at her feet.

Doma felt something eat at his heart. It was painful and raw and screamed at him as Daki turned away. So he took a step forward, and then another.

She did not flinch again but as he approached he could see her fighting to stand tall.

"I will not hurt you," he vowed. "I promise you, I will never hurt you."

They were close now, within arms reach, but Doma didn't dare cross that distance. He was fumbling again, seeking desperately for the right words to say.

He ended up affirming his vow: "I promise I'm not mad, and even if I was I would never -"

"Well maybe you should," Daki snapped suddenly. She looked away just as quickly, ill-concealed shame on her brow. Doma felt his systems pause, from his heart to his lungs.

"What?"

"Maybe..." she bit down another snarl as she turned away. "Maybe you should be mad."

"Why?" he asked near desperately.

"What do you mean why!?" Daki shrieked. "WHY!? We let Miku get taken! We almost lost to Upper Six! We got Kotoha hurt - bad! She could've died! You were gone and it was our job to take care of things. You fought fucking Kokushibo and we couldn't even stop some cheap replacement from wrecking everything!"

"That's hardly -"

"We fucked up!" She was crying now, her ribbons wrapping around her form so tightly they were starting to draw blood. "We fucked up bad! And Kotoha's gonna forgive us, and Miku's gonna forgive us, and Kanae's gonna forgive us but we still messed up!"

She took a step forward so she was in his space, glaring at him with slit pupils and bared fangs.

"We failed. We were so goddamn weak we couldn't keep your precious pets from getting hurt, and you're too busy playing nice demon to recognize it."

There was a flash of shock in Doma, then anger, but that was quickly quelled as he watched more tears stream down Daki's face. There was hurt here. A hurt he understood but couldn't word.

He moved slowly, opening his arms and slowly - slowly pulled her in. She could pull away, she could fight, she could leave.

She didn't. 

He wrapped his arms around her and held. He was crouching, which allowed her to bury her face in his shoulder. He held her close and tried to seek for the next best thing to do, the next best thing to say. The only thing he could think of were four words.

"You're alright," he breathed. "It's alright."

And Daki sobbed. She grabbed his robe and clenched it with her nails, as she tried to fight it, sniffling and straining to hide a wail bubbling from her throat. It didn't work. She wailed and hiccupped and sobbed in his arms.

"We almost killed her! We could've killed her!" She wailed. "We almost killed Kotoha!"

"No, no," Doma denied. "You saved her. You protected her -"

"She got hurt!"

"But she lived."

"You should be mad!"

"I am, but not at you."

"I'm mad!"

"As you should be," Doma laughed wearily. "They came after our family."

Our. She stilled for a moment before returning with more fury in her voice: "Mad at me!"

"I'm not."

"WHY!?"

"Because I am not him," Doma explained with a heavy breath. "You two did everything in your power and I know that. I know you. Kotoha knows."

"But..." Daki shook her head. Was her form shrinking? It was hard to tell.

"If she had died." Gyutaro's voice broke the silence and startled both of them. Daki pulled away and Doma looked to the other demon.

He was balancing a scythe on his fingertip now, the tip of the blade on his skin. His eyes were distant, his voice startling soft.

"If Miku had died, would you still forgive us? If Kotoha had, what then?" he demanded, darkly but so, so soft.

The words were... poison. They dug into Doma's frequent thoughts and reminded him of the many, many what-ifs he'd tormented himself with. What if. What if. What if.

"I would be ruined," Doma admitted weakly. "I would be... lost. But... no, if that had happened, I hope I would never blame you for it."

"Then you're a fool," Gyutaro spat with a glare. "And a liar."

"A fool, definitely," Doma concurred. "And I have been a liar. But not here, not now."

He crouched lower, trying to impose himself in the boy's peripheral. Daki was at his side, twisting a ribbon in hand as she watched.

"I could not hate you because you are important to me," Doma breathed. "You are not paid guards or subordinates. You are not things to be ordered around or guard dogs. You are Gyutaro and you are Daki: you are family."

Gyutaro's eyes widened and Daki's breath hitched.

"I don't know if I've said it before, but I've thought it for a long time," Doma breathed regretfully. "Losing you would be horrific, and I worried for you here just as I worried for Miku and Kotoha. You are important to me. And Kotoha."

Daki was crying again, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. Gyutaro had turned away, but his shoulders were trembling.

"I care for you two," Doma breathed. "Very much. So please don't torment yourself anymore."

They said nothing to him, Daki hiding her face as she turned away, her ribbons loosening their hold on her as she fought for controlled breaths.

"Please go," Daki pleaded.

And that request was clear, so Doma stood (as best he could with the low ceiling) and nodded: "Alright, thank you for listening."

And with that he made his way back to the ladder, throwing one last look back at the siblings. Daki had plopped down next to Gyutaro, silent, and yet there was a clear conversation between them. With a breath and a hope - that somehow he'd been enough - Doma retired back to his idleness to wait for the others to return.

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

Things were... less than great. 

Good news: Sanemi hadn't said anything mean to him the entire funeral service. Bad news: Sanemi hadn't said anything to him since that fateful night when they'd fought for their lives - when Kanae had broken them up.

Genya was equal parts relieved and gutted. They were so close, Sanemi was right there. They passed each other in the hall, at least until Kanae chased the elder back to bedrest. When he helped out with Kiyo, she was certain to handle Sanemi's room, but that didn't mean they didn't glimpse each other through the open door. 

So close, and yet further than ever. It probably would've killed him if he had too much time to think about it. Luckily, he didn't have much time to think - like, literally at all.

Gyomei had lost his foot, amputated to save the rest of the leg. He donned a thick scar across his face and there was this whole thing with his heart, apparently. Some sort of mark appeared and now his body was weakening, fast.

But Himejima-sensei was still Himejima-sensei.

"You did well," the eldest hashira praised as he lay in bed, and Genya hated how much those words made his heart warm. "I've just been told how you assisted in protecting the estate."

"By Kanae?"

"No, by Shinazugawa."

Oh. Ouch. Okay. No time to unpack all that. No thank you... Okay, maybe a little bit of time. Changing these bandages was going to take a minute.

"Was he... happy?" Genya asked nervously, tenderly wrapping the hashira's stub. "Or just... mad?"

The silence spoke bounds and he felt himself deflate again. Stupid. Why was he surprised? Honestly, kind of pathetic of him to still be disappointed.

"His opinions do not sway me, Genya. Your feats were incredible, and you're heart is pure. I am proud of your performance," the Stone Pillar stated simply, with a smile.

He did smile a little at that. That endorsement wasn't something he could shrug off.

"And he's been super helpful," Kiyo nodded softly as she watched Genya work. "He's... he's helped pick up a lot of the workload."

Both slayers' eyes darkened at the implications there. It was true; Genya had taken over a lot of Sumi and Naho's workload, the rest of it being picked up by the Kocho sisters, Aoi, and Kiyo. But, to be fair, he was one of the few not seriously injured. The other hashira were helping out where they could but they were... well... let's just saw Tengen's 'flamboyant' method of trying to cheer up patients had resulted in a permanent ban on participating in any and all medical assistance.

Shinobu's orders. No questions asked. Though Genya suspected it had something to do with the flash bangs that went off two days ago.

"I am glad to hear it, it is good to stay busy in times like this," Gyomei supposed. There was a change in the air, Genya could taste it. The hashira's muscles tensed, most prominently those of his forearms, and his heart skipped a beat for a moment. If it bothered him, the Stone Pillar did not show it. He cleared his throat and smiled serenely.

"Should I get Kanae?" Genya asked, snapping out of his concern to finish the bandaging.

"For what?" Kiyo asked critically, leaning over to admire the slayer's work. "It looks good."

Gyomei only nodded firmly: "If you would. But tell her it is not pressing."

Genya doubted that - his sensei had always been the 'suffer in silence' type and something had happened in that fight with Upper One. Something more than the missing leg, and deep scars on his face and side. But Genya said nothing. No need to make a big deal needlessly and worry people. Or betray Gyomei's trust. Or freak Kiyo out. 

Kiyo... She was already carrying too much. The funeral had been hardest for her. She'd cried and cried and then wiped her tears and went right back to work... as if nothing happened. She put on the bravest of faces and hadn't slacked when it came to changing bandages or caring for the injured, but Genya had a creeping suspicion she was about as put together as he was.

Which was not at all. 

Going through the motions, trying not to think, trying to stay away from uncomfortable situations: trying to stay sane. And if Genya was avoiding Sanemi then Kiyo was definitely avoiding the half-demon girl, Miku.

She asked Genya to take care of slayers down the hallway the demons stayed in. She was careful to go to bed early, far too grateful that Genya was willing to take the later night shifts. And - okay, Genya wasn't going to question it.

She did him a favor by changing Sanemi's bandages (because there was a real possibility Sanemi would kill him if he tried to do anything intimate) and he would bring Kotoha her dinner and say hi to Miku. It was totally fair. Totally healthy. Totally not concerning at all.

"I think rooms 4 and 5 need splints checked and medicine refilled. That one with the sinus infection might need a bowl of warm water too..." Kiyo pondered as they wandered out of Gyomei's room. 

"I can get the water going," Genya supposed.

Kiyo nodded, clearly still lost in thought: "Yeah. Poor slayer: getting the flu while she's struggling with a femur fracture. I can get room 4 then and start on the medicine for 5. I'll just have to grab more bandages from Kanae or Shinobu, and they should..."

The girl tampered off as they turned a corner and came face to face with Tengen Uzui and Mirakuru Hashibira.

Oh... shit.

All four parties froze, taking stock of the scene. To absolutely no one's surprise, Tengen was the first to recover.

"Ah! Shinazugawa's little brother! And Kiyo!" he greeted. "How flamboyant our paths should cross! I hear you're doing good work for our young Tokito-fellow. He says he's recovering very well thanks to your hard work!"

Muichiro was honestly Genya's favorite patient, he was surprisingly easy to talk to for a hashira. And it was clear he was going through some shit, which Genya could understand, so he needed someone to talk to and you know, it just kind of happened that they were... like... venting buddies? And he was actually looking forward to seeing him later but - FOCUS GENYA!

May the Buddha help him, he was actually stupid sometimes. Clinically. 

Kiyo was frozen and Miku didn't look much better either. They were just staring at each other: even Tengen noticed! 

Okay, keep calm, how to handle the situation. He looked to Tengen for any guidance but found the hashira looking between the girls, the epitome of confusion. Oh great, it was up to Genya to fix this? Kill him now.

"Uh... yeah. Um, thanks? Anyway - uh, Kiyo and I have to... uh... y'know. We've gotta... uh... do... medicine stuff. Yep. Yep. Okay. Bye!" He pressed onward feeling his face heat up in that absolute train wreck of an interaction. There were not enough prayers in the world to give him salvation from the embarrassment now flooding his system. The heavens themselves were probably crying into their palms, asking how they could create someone that idiotic.

If he just walked as fast as possible, no one would be able to catch him and this would be forgotten about. 100%. No one would think about it again. It wouldn't keep him up at night ever. Definitely not.

He passed Tengen quickly, Kiyo right on his heels. She kept her eyes on the floor and Genya only barely noticed Mirakuru looking at them. He was a little busy wishing he'd melt into a puddle, disappear, and never interact with anyone ever again.

By some miracle, he made it to an empty room without tripping and losing every shred of pride he had left, Kiyo right behind him. He put his head in his hands and groaned, hoping desperately that Kiyo would just move on and be a functioning member of the corps because one of them should be.

Kiyo, however, closed the door behind her, sat on the ground, and hid her head in her knees.

Oh fuck. Oh f u c k.

Shit. Shit shit shit shit double shit, fuck shit, fuck.

No. No no no. He didn't want to be the responsible adult anymore. Responsible... 16 year old? Whatever! He was done! He was bad at it! Very very bad at it! Like, hilariously horrifyingly bad -

"Why is it like this?" Kiyo demanded with a breath.

"Uhhhhhh..." And, okay, WHAT was he supposed to say to that? How do you even respond to that?

"I... I couldn't even... couldn't even talk to her!" Kiyo muffled her voice in her arms and hid a sniffle.

"Well... uh... talking's... hard," he managed. Again. Puddle him. Any time now. Just eviscerate him. It's okay, he's cool with it. Totally chill in fact. You'd be doing him a favor.

She was crying. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck -

Kiyo desperately wiped her eyes and seemed to seethe against herself: "She's my friend! And... and I... I can't..."

"Do you want to... uh... talk? I - I can get Kanae!" Please tell him to go get Kanae.

Kiyo shook her head: "No... no thank you."

FUCKKKKKKKKK.

He stood awkwardly by a side table, looking at the empty mattress behind him as he tried to look at something other than the crying girl he was supposed to be comforting again. It's not that he didn't want to help her, or didn't want to deal with it, but come on she should really find someone a little better at this stuff and not... well... HIM. Mr. horrifically-bad-at-everything-he-tries-including-but-not-limited-to-familial-and-platonic-relationships.

He had to try though... 'cause fuck it. What was the alternative? Leave her there?

"Well..." he rubbed his head to try and scratch a good thought out of his dumbass head. "How about you talk about what's... uh... bothering you?"

"It's nothing."

"Uh..." he turned and looked to her, hugging her knees.

She wiped her eyes and plunged her head back into her knees.

"I... can... try to keep you away from Miku. If she bothers you -"

"No!" Kiyo almost jumped to her feet, lip trembling as her fists shook. "No! No... no that's - that's not... I don't know!"

Genya flinched at the anger in that tone, but it seemed he didn't have to prompt her anymore. The girl threw her arms in the air and began to vent.

"I - I don't know! I want, I want to be her friend! We are friends! We - I... I want things to be like... like there were. But they're not. And every time I see her, I remember they're not! And they're not because - because Naho is... and Sumi... and - and I'm not. And Miku's not. And - and I don't know how to make it right! And every time I see her I just... I don't - I can't... I don't even... I just..."

She broke off in a frustrated cry and slammed a fist against the back of the door before curling in on herself again.

Genya had stood there for it all, an uncertain witness. He reached out, as if he was about to step forward, but then thought better of it and stayed put. He rubbed his arm and wet his lips, seeking something beneficial to say.

But he'd probably say something wrong. Make it worse. Hurt her feelings... He... he couldn't even fix his own relationships, how was he supposed to -

"I get it," he supposed with a grimace. "Yeah... and it does suck."

"I can't even talk to her," Kiyo hissed.

"Well... maybe not... now," he tried to soothe. "But... maybe you just need time."

"How much time!?"

"I don't know!"

"Is everything alright in there?"

Oh shit.

Both Kiyo and Genya looked to the door in a mixture of horror and regret. It was Shinobu. What were they supposed to do? Did this look bad? Slacking on the job or something? Oh shit was she going to be pissed Genya didn't get help for Kiyo? Was he -

Kiyo acted faster, jumping up and pulling the door open to reveal the younger Kocho sister.

"Kiyo," Shinobu breathed as she saw the young one's eyes.

"H... hi," Kiyo greeted shyly. 

Shinobu's eyes flashed over Kiyo's head to Genya's meager form. He gave a pathetic wave and a grimace.

"Hey," he managed.

Shinobu dissected the situation like it was a warzone. Then, after finding something she could cling to, she gently entered the space and softly closed the door behind her - not all the way - but just to keep the sound out.

"Alright," she breathed to the room. "Now, start at the beginning. What's going on?"

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

The hashira meeting was in two days. Gyomei had been barely cleared by Kanae, and there wasn't anything that could stop Muichiro. Repairs had also begun on the estate, those slayers and hashira who could move were diligently cleaning up the wreckage. Inosuke was among them, as was Doma when night fell.

Miku had begun her training with Tengen Uzui, right after the funeral.

"Nothing major!" Tengen had promised. "Just a bit of form practice."

"So soon?" Doma had breathed. Miku's expression spoke for itself.

"I want to learn," she had said. And oh, had there been such weight in those words. There was no spark of wonder in her eyes, just the dull edge of necessity.

But Kotoha had knelt down to cup the girl's face and nodded: "Will it take your mind off things?"

Miku had nodded.

"And we can talk later, alright?" Kotoha urged.

Miku had nodded once more, sternly.

And off she'd gone to the garden, to practice in the sunshine. She came back that night weary, tired, and quiet. They had not talked much that evening. She left the next morning with Inosuke, to pick up the training yard before she met with Tengen. That left Doma and Kotoha alone in their dark corner of the standing mansion, heavy in heart and mind.

"She's hurting," Doma recognized.

Kotoha only nodded, her expression tight.

Doma looked at her, pleadingly; "What do we do?"

"I don't know," Kotoha admitted weakly. "But... I think being there for her is the first step. At least, I hope it is."

Doma laughed, perhaps a bit ruefully, and sat on a separate cot, head in his hands as he lamented it all. His many, many failures. But then the attic door had popped open. Both looked to the corner of the room where a familiar ribbon was peeking out.

"Daki?" There was earnest hope in Kotoha's voice as her eye sparked with the glimpse of a smile.

The demon dropped down a moment later. She stood tall, raising her chin as she puckered her lips and began striding forward.

"Daki!" Kotoha laughed in joyful greeting.

"Daki," Doma greeted at the same time, in breathless surprise. "How have y-"

They were both silenced when the demon reached Kotoha's bedside and solemnly fell to her knees.

Kotoha was the first one to verbally question it: "Daki? What are you -"

"I'm sorry." It was strict and firm. Inarguable, when spilling from Daki's list. "I'm sorry, Kotoha."

"Oh..." Kotoha glanced at Doma, asking for some assistance. He shrugged helplessly. Kotoha shook her head and looked back to the girl: "Daki, there's nothing to -"

"I failed to protect you," Daki stated firmly. "I failed to protect Miku, I failed to protect the estate, and I failed to keep you safe."

"But -"

"You could have died," Daki hissed. "Because Gyutaro and I weren't able to handle it. I wasn't able to handle it. I hesitated. I... I was sloppy, and I know that. I was overwhelmed and I made mistakes, mistakes that could've left you and Miku dead."

"Daki, you -"

"I'm not done!" Daki snapped firmly. 

Gyutaro dropped down from the ceiling, but before either Doma or Kotoha could greet him, Daki continued, still bowing, on her knees.

"We, that is, Gyutaro and I, let you down."

"You did not," Kotoha denied.

"We did. Whether you admit it or not, we did. We had a job, and we failed. We..." The girl's voice broke for a moment, as did her confidence, she sat up and collected herself quickly. "It was our duty to protect you and Mirakuru, and because of us, we were taken by surprise, Miku was taken, and you got hurt."

Kotoha had stopped trying to interrupt and was merely listening, nodding solemnly as Gyutaro walked up to Daki's side.

"We know you forgive us," Gyutaro spoke in a rasp, bowing his head. "We... know..."

"And we think it's bullshit," Daki snipped almost... pompously? She raised her head and huffed, crossing her arms. "You never should've been put in any danger, not if we'd been smarter. And that replacement shouldn't have been a threat, not if we'd been on our game."

"We've grown complacent," Gyutaro agreed. "And that cost you."

A silence descended on them and only once it was clear that neither sibling was going to speak again did Kotoha speak.

"Alright," she supposed slowly. "But... I do forgive you. In fact, I don't think there's anything to forgive."

"But that's ridiculous!" Daki cried, throwing her hands in the air as her ribbons flared. "It's - it's stupid!"

Kotoha seemed to think carefully before speaking again: "What would you like me to say, then?"

"Reprimand us," Daki nodded simply. "Drop the kindness act. Drop the forgiveness. Be mad. Be furious. Be right."

"You want me to be mad?" Kotoha asked with a weak laugh.

Gyutaro was staring at the floor. Daki was puckering her lips as her ribbons danced.

"Well," Kotoha supposed. "I'm not. Not at you. And you can't exactly make me."

"Yes, I can!" Daki challenged. "I definitely can!"

"Then do so," Kotoha laughed. "Whatever you need to do. I'm just happy to see you two again. I was scared you'd stay up there forever."

"We will!" threatened Daki, pointing at Kotoha. "We'll stay up there forever!"

"Why!?" Doma asked incredulously. He was incredibly lost. He'd been lost before the conversation even got started.

Daki ignored him: "We'll do whatever we have to do! Whatever! Because you should be mad and you shouldn't forgive us so easily!" 

"Daki," Kotoha scolded softly. "Why on earth shouldn't I forgive you? You both fought so hard and so well. You did everything in your power -"

"And it wasn't enough," Gyutaro interjected darkly, his eyes glancing up to Kotoha's bandages before looking away. "So we weren't enough."

And to that, Kotoha scowled: "Now you two listen to me: none of this is your fault. None of this rests on your shoulders. It doesn't rest on anyone's shoulders! Not mine, not Doma's, not Miku's, not Kanae's, and not yours. It rests on Muzan and Muzan alone."

"We - " Gyutaro hissed, but Kotoha cut him off sharply.

"You two saved my life." There was no room for argument. "You two protected forty slayers from dying that night, you held off hundreds of demons at your own risk and did everything in your power to help. But even if you hadn't done all that, even if you hadn't been able to save all of that, I still wouldn't be mad at you."

Daki seemed to disagree vehemently: "But -"

"Even if I had died, I wouldn't have blamed you."

"No!" Gyutaro seethed.

"Even if things had turned awful, even if it had gotten worse. Even if hell itself split open. It wouldn't have been your fault."

"Yes! It would've!" Daki stomped her foot like a child throwing a tantrum.

"Why? Because you couldn't handle it all? By that reasoning, I'm even more to blame."

"No!" It seemed to be all Gyutaro could say at the moment.

"You did everything in your power to help. That is all anyone can ask of you, to do all you can, no matter the outcome."

"But you don't know that!" Daki cried. "How could you know we did our best!? You got hurt! Miku got taken! Everything was destroyed!"

"Everything?" Kotoha supposed, gesturing to the walls around her. "I don't think so."

"That's - that's..." Daki growled and began to pace the room. "That's not fair! You're not fair!"

"How is this not fair?" Kotoha laughed incredulously, her breath hitching in a pained gasp that made everyone nearly rush to her side. She waved them off, taking a long breath before shaking her head and continuing, quieter now: "I think it's very fair."

But the damage was done. Daki and Gyutaro's eyes were wide and their hands were trembling. Doma was fighting every urge he had to reach out for Kotoha's hand and beg her to rest her voice lest she rip a stitch. But he didn't.

"It's..." Daki looked away, balling her hands into fists. "It's just not fair."

Doma began to smell blood.

"Daki... look at me. You too Gyutaro," Kotoha ordered gently, it was more a request, one the two obeyed earnestly. The woman sat up, raising her head and managing a weak smile.

"It's... it's not fair," Daki breathed, her lip beginning to quiver.

"You two have done nothing wrong. There is nothing I could blame you for. Nothing to apologize for. Except for this hatred you have for yourselves. I cannot hate you, I cannot blame you. Daki, Gyutaro, I love you both. I know you did everything you could and -"

She broke off as Daki tried to stifle a sob.

"Daki?" Kotoha breathed.

"It's not fair," Daki shook her head again, covering her mouth and squeezing her eyes shut.

"Daki -"

"It's not fair. It's not fair!"

"Come here," Kotoha urged, opening her arms.

"It's not fair. It's not - not... not fair..."

"What's not fair," Kotoha beckoned, and slowly, Daki stepped forward. They clasped hands, Daki's eyes streaming with tears as she sniffled.

"You..." Daki admitted with a hiccup. "It's not fair."

Kotoha only squeezed the girl's hands tighter. "Tell me."

With a choke and a sob, Daki threw herself into Kotoha. She began to shrink, slowly at first, but exponentially faster, her ribbons shifting to meet her form. Suddenly she was not the demon they'd all grown to know. She was a thirteen-year-old, sobbing on Kotoha's shoulder and holding on as if her life depended on it.

"It's not fair!" Daki wailed, her voice cracking. It was juvenile, sharper, riddled with the unpolished vocals of youth. "You're so good and kind and - and good. And you get hurt! You get hurt and we can stop it! You - you - it's not fair!"

"Oh," Kotoha breathed, struck either by the words or by how small Daki had just gotten in her arms. "Oh... Daki..."

Gyutaro seemed frozen, staring at the scene with wide eyes and a tremble in his form. Kotoha looked at him, a silent request that he step forward in her eyes. A request he either didn't recognize or ignored.

She turned back to the little one in her arms, whose ribbons were now so big they were disproportionate to the child.

"Daki, you're right. It's not fair," she concurred. "But it's also not your fault."

"But why you!? Why Miku!? Why can't it be anybody else? I don't care about anyone else! I care about you!" This was a tantrum then, a sobbing fit that was reminiscent to a young Inosuke not so long ago.

Kotoha seemed to have the same thought, laughing weakly as she tucked some of the girl's wild strands of hair behind her ear.

"Well... maybe the universe knows I'm tough enough to take it," Kotoha supposed.

"That's not fair!" Daki cried. "It's not fair! I hate it! I hate it!"

"You're allowed to hate it, just don't hate yourself for it -"

"But I hate it! I hate... I..." she broke into sobs again and Kotoha pulled the girl fully onto the bed so they could curl into a full hug.

"I'm okay, Daki. You're okay."

"I thought you were gonna die!" Daki wailed. "And - and it was gonna be my fault!"

"Our fault," Gyutaro breathed.

"And then I realized I'd never see you again a-and I'd - I'd never hug you again and -and I'd - it - it was going to be so cold again. I - I never, never want to be like that again!" Daki hiccupped. 

"But it's okay," Kotoha tried to soothe. "I'm okay."

"But you almost weren't!"

"But I am."

"But you weren't and me and Gyutaro we -" Suddenly Daki cut herself off, choking on whatever she was going to say next and pulling herself close to Kotoha once more.

"Daki?"

"Just don't go," Daki begged, muffled in Kotoha's arms. "Please don't go."

Kotoha nodded, breathing her promise: "Okay. I won't. I won't, Daki."

Then, she turned her eye back to Gyutaro. He seemed to curl away, wanting to retreat and yet fall forward. With one hand around Daki, Kotoha extended the other one.

"And you, Gyutaro?" she asked.

Slowly, but eventually, Gyutaro stepped forward to stare at the hand. He took a breath and then made his confession.

"It was always Daki and me. Always. Even when... our Mom wasn't... it was always just us. It was always supposed to be just us. But now... now it's not. It's... it's you... and... you." He looked from Kotoha and then, almost shyly, glanced to Doma. "It's... more than just us and... and we can't... we can't keep... you."

"We can't get retries," Daki hiccupped. "No redoes. Just 'dead' and then 'gone'. All gone. Forever!"

"And that doesn't seem to bother you," Gyutaro accused, balling his hands into fists. "It doesn't seem to bother anyone."

"Of course, it bothers us," Doma interjected. "What would make you think otherwise?"

"She would've died and you wouldn't have killed us for it." Gyutaro looked at him as if that was a condemnation. "You wouldn't have. Miku could have died and I think you two would've forgiven us for it."

"Of course, we would've -" Doma began.

"Why?" Gyutaro hissed.

Doma gawked: "Because!"

"Why!? If you failed to protect Daki, I would've killed you!"

"No, you wouldn't have."

"You're right - because you wouldn't let her die!"

Gyutaro realized he'd snarled and, meekly, retreated back to his space, averting his eyes. Doma stood there for a moment, uncertain how to proceed.

Kotoha, however, seemed to be thinking carefully as Daki began to dry her eyes.

"Loss is always scary," she supposed finally. "And the thought of it can make us do very, very silly things."

"It's not silly," Daki began to defend.

"No," Kotoha concurred. "It's not. I'm sorry I scared you. I'm sorry I wasn't strong enough to protect you and I'm sorry you weren't strong enough to emerge unscathed. That's not your fault though. That's not anyone's fault."

Daki sniffled before making a correction: "'Cept Muzy."

"Yes, except for Muzan," Kotoha concurred with a small smile. She sighed as she looked back up to Gyutaro. "Don't put blame on your shoulders, both of you. You're only children, and that weight is far too heavy."

Gyutaro stiffened at that.

"We're not children," he corrected.

"Yes, you are," Kotoha smiled warmly. "I may not know much about demons or gods or any of that, but I know people. And I know you, Gyutaro. It's okay. It is not a crime to be a child."

His eyes were watering.

"And you've been brave, and you've been hard on yourself, and you've been stuck in a body that won't change, not in a way that matters. And you've been like that for a long time, I'm sure. But you're still a child."

"I'm... I'm not - " he began.

"You are," she assured.

"I'm a demon."

"And a boy."

"I'm a monster."

"You're Gyutaro," Kotoha urged with a smile. "You're our boy."

The dam broke. Gyutaro's knees seemed to give out from under him as a sob crashed through his lips.

"Doma!" Kotoha cried, and he was there, catching Gyutaro before he could crumple. The younger demon was... ruined, it seemed. His entire body shook as he tried to wipe his eyes and catch the breaths he didn't need. 

"Come here, come here," Kotoha pleaded and they all did. Doma held the boy because he... he couldn't seem to let him go. Gyutaro was shrinking in his arms or his image was. Suddenly he was a sixteen-year-old boy in the snow, begging Doma to save his sister. No matter what, no matter how, just please - please -

He'd been so cruel. He'd condemned them to this. He'd done this.

"I'm sorry," he breathed, but he doubted they heard him. They were too busy holding each other, holding Kotoha, holding him.

"I've got you, I've got you," Kotoha kept saying. But the words were not what mattered.

I love you. Over and over again it was breathed and promised and vowed through those gentle holdings and tender hands. I love you.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," Doma felt tears flood his eyes and each one was another promise. I love you.

The only ones actually saying it were Daki and Gyutaro, crying as they hadn't in years, holding figures they'd never had.

"I love you! I love you so much! I love you more than anything! I love you!" Daki wailed it loud, crying into Kotoha's arm. "Don't go. Don't ever go. Please. I love you!"

Gyutaro's was a softer confession, breathed once as he held tightly to them all. It sent a shiver down his spine and threatened to shatter him apart, but he said it, and it was treasured. I love you.

I love you.

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

There was... much to be fixed.

Much that couldn't be fixed. Would never be fixed.

Bones? Bruises? Muscle strains? Punctured organs? Fixable, usually. Diagnosable, treatable, or at the least, an answer to the pain.

Everything else? Absolutely dog shit.

Shinobu was so tired that she couldn't even be angry sometimes. She was just tired. Day in, day out, injury in, recovery out. The walls were torn down, the roof was caving in, the medicinal supplies were low, the crows were weary, the garden was in ruins, their sisters were dead, and she'd just dropped a clean kimono into a puddle of mud

It was the smallest things that could reduce you to tears. It really was. The smallest, silliest things. She picked up the kimono, rushed to a nearby safe spot, broke down, cried her eyes out, picked herself up, and put the kimono back in the dirty clothes bin to pretend it never happened. She fucking hated that kimono anyway.

So much. So much and there was no brake in sight. The funeral had been yesterday, and Kanae's meeting was tomorrow. They'd discuss what would happen now that Kagaya was dead. Now that the Butterfly estate was in ruins. Now that the swordsmith village was compromised. Now that Muzan had shown many of his cards.

Kanae was... struggling. She hid it, because of course she did, but Shinobu hadn't seen her sleep in a week. She must've... at some point. But she was up when exhaustion took Shinobu and she was up before the sun rose. Aoi was similar, though Shinobu tried vainly to get her to bed at some reasonable hour. The girl was insistent on doing everything in her power to assist others.

Kanao was... confused. She was trying her best, assisting the clean-up and repair crews as best she could. She had no expertise in medicine, she was always better suited for fieldwork. She was aching from Naho and Sumi, that much was obvious, but she'd always been a quiet girl, especially when she thought a situation more important than her feelings (which was any time there was anything to distract Kanae or Shinobu). And the worst part was, Shinobu couldn't address her grief - not really. Not in any way that mattered.

Just like she couldn't help Kiyo. Kiyo... Shinobu had found her in a back room, crying to Genya. The girl was more than aching, she was mourning her best friends, crumbling under the unfair expectations Shinobu had placed on those young girls. Her survivor's guilt was so palpable, it left a foul taste in Shinobu's mouth. Kiyo hated herself. She hated Miku for surviving.  She hated herself for thinking such things. She adored Miku. She was ten! Ten. She was carrying the lives of so many slayers on her shoulders, trying to ignore the ones she'd lost. She was a little girl doing more than anyone should ever ask of any person, and yet Shinobu had asked it of her.

She had made Kiyo, Sumi, and Naho her apprentices. She had taken them in. And now? Now she had failed all of them. Kiyo the most, it seemed. Kanae was addressing it. Kanae was giving Kiyo the next few days off. Kanae was navigating the situation better than Shinobu could. Kanae had taught her calming mechanisms and given her a journal. Kanae had encouraged her to write and talk and breathe and grieve.

Shinobu... Shinobu could not. And yet... for some reason...

"I think you should talk to her," Tengen urged.

"What?" she scowled.

"I'm telling you, she reminds me of you - to a freakish degree, actually," the sound pillar reasoned. "All angry and serious. Kanae agrees with me."

"Kanae - Kanae okayed this?" Shinobu, for the life of her, could not reason with her sister sometimes.

"She said it was a good idea. Said you might be able to get through to her," Tengen supposed. "Kotoha would appreciate it, I ran it by her."

"Why me? I'm busy!" Shinobu scoffed, gesturing to the sheets she had yet to clean, the medicine she had left to organize, and the seven other things she had yet to even remember.

"Well... because you're Shinobu?" Tengen winced. "If anyone knows what to do with angry grief, it's probably you."

"It's probably Kanae," Shinobu retorted sharply as she turned to leave. "She's the one who deals with me."

Tengen nodded, smoothly intercepting Shinobu once more: "Yesss, but... it might help to have a more... personal approach?"

Her face fell in disbelief: "I am not comforting."

"Oh no, I totally agree. You are one of the least flamboyant sources of comfort I know, but the girl needs something constructive. She needs someone to show her constructive anger. I know no one else more fit to the task than you."

Shinobu's eyes narrowed: "Flattery will get you nowhere."

"Fine, but Shinobu, I am serious," Tengen sighed. "Mirakuru is angry, and I haven't been able to help. No one has. She picks up her training sword, does the moves, breaks something, and asks to train until her arms want to fall off."

"Such is the beginning of most slayers," Shinobu supposed. 

"Kocho..."

"I am not going to be helpful!" Shinobu hissed. "I'm not! I don't do that!"

"Then... at least tell her how you did it."

"Did what?"

"Healed. Maybe she'll believe you more than me."

And for a moment, Shinobu stared at Tengen in a mixture of fury and disbelief. It melted quickly though, especially when she saw the earnestness in his eyes. Then she scoffed and tossed the sheets halfheartedly into the basket.

"Where is she?" 

Tengen pointed behind him: "The training grounds, or at least the area we picked up around it. Do you want support?"

"Oh no, you've done enough," Shinobu scowled, pushing past him. 

"Ouch," Tengen feigned hurt, or maybe he truly was. She didn't really care.

She cared about a lot of things, Kanae said that was half the reason she was so angry. And make no mistake she cared about the little girl she happened upon, hacking into the air with hate it didn't deserve. But that didn't mean she could fix anything.

"Mirakuru," she called, perhaps a bit shorter than she meant to sound. The girl paused her swings and looked over.

"Hi," she greeted, there was no smile. "Is something wrong?"

"No," Shinobu supposed after a moment. She walked over with a critical eye: "How is sound breathing going so far?"

The girl shrugged: "Too early to tell, I think. I'll get it though."

"Will you?"

"Yes." That was definitely a snap, one the girl's shoulders tensed for.

"Good," Shinobu supposed. "Very good."

Mirakuru resumed her exercises, some sort of rhythmic step and swing to align her breathing with her heart rate. It already looked more natural than her attempt at insect breathing. After a moment, the girl paused and looked at her.

"Did Mom send you or something?"

"No."

"Do you... need something?"

"No."

"Then... why..."

"I came to check on you," Shinobu shrugged. "See how you were coming along."

"I'm fine," Miku answered simply. She resumed again and Shinobu hated how familiar that tone sounded.

Two could play that game: "Are you?" she challenged.

Miku froze, straightening up after a moment and turning to Shinobu with a withering glare.

"Did Dad send you?"

When had Doma become Dad? Hadn't he been Papa?

"No," Shinobu answered curtly.

"Well, I'm fine."

"Are you?"

"Yes!" 

"Really?" Shinobu stared at her, unimpressed.

"I'm fine! I'm getting stronger! I'm getting better! That's good, isn't it?" Miku challenged.

"Sure," Shinobu supposed. "As long as you're not opening up your wounds."

"I'm healed," the girl scathed.

"Are you?"

Mirakuru growled, forcing herself to resume her exercises again. As if that would tune Shinobu out.

"You're still emotionally turbulent," she reasoned. "You won't learn until you're in the right headspace."

"I'm in the right headspace. I'm gonna learn so I can kill demons. That's the headspace, right!? That's the whole point! Learn, kill, and win."

"That's hardly where you're at."

"You don't know!"

"I do."

"I'm fine!"

"You're grieving. You're angry -"

"Yes!" It was a snarl as the girl threw her training sword to the ground and whirled to the hashira. "Yes! And everyone keeps saying that's a bad thing but I'm angry! He - he came after our home! He hurt my family! He killed Naho and Sumi! He -"

The words caught in her throat and she forced them away with a growl.

"I'm going to be angry and I'm going to stay angry! You can't change that! I'm going to learn so that I win. I'm going to learn so he never hurts me or anyone ever again! So I'll stay angry!!"

With that, the girl stomped over to a pile of rubble and sat down, facing away from Shinobu as she seethed and likely tried to hide her tears. Shinobu took a breath and clenched her jaw.

They'd gotten to this point faster than expected. Now came the part where she had to do something about it. That... that was the tricky part.

It would have to start somewhere. Somewhere earnest.

"At least tell her how you did it"

"Did what?"

"Healed."

"It's okay to be angry." It started as a soft confession from the elder as she sat next to the girl: "It's alright to hate him. To feel so much fury all you want to do is hurt... Do not hurt yourself. It's too easy to take out that anger on ourselves. A slayer's life is dedicated to hunting monsters and saving people. You mustn't forget that last part." 

Shinobu murmured she sat, staring into the girl's multicolored eyes which were hiding tears. They sat there for a moment, leaning on the rubble of their old home, staring up at the aging afternoon sky.

"I want to make him hurt..." the young girl murmured, cold rage etched under her fangs. "I want to make him pay. He  - he killed - "

"I know. I want to hurt him too," Shinobu nodded, her tone soft, but cold and sharp as nichirin. "I want to make them all pay. I'm also angry... I am... very angry." She took a breath, slowly, finding a smile somewhere to plaster on; "Your brother's right when he calls me 'the grumpy purple one'."

Miku didn't smile at that and Shinobu mourned for a moment. This must be how Kanae felt after their parent's death after Shinobu herself changed. This must be what it is to watch innocence die.

"Mirakuru," Shinobu murmured, the girl sat a bit taller at her name. "You can be whoever you want, but be certain - absolutely certain - it's what you truly want."

The girl looked puzzled by that. 

"What I'm saying is," Shinobu tried once again, wishing for a moment she had Kanae's gift with words... "Don't let Muzan take your happiness from you. Don't let the demons steal your humanity too."

Miku looked down and clenched her jaw.

"I..." she started. "I don't know how to stop."

"How to stop?"

"How to stop being hurt."

"Oh." Shinobu sat back as her chest ached. 

"How do I stop being angry then? How do I make it go away?" Miku demanded, tears pooling in her eyes as her tone tightened. "I know I'm sad and angry and it's hurting people. I yelled at Mom. I snapped at Inosuke. Kiyo won't even look at me! But - but I can't just stop! How do I stop?"

The young girl gripped her head and leaned forward into her knees to try and hide her tears.

"...You... can't," Shinobu confessed, reaching out to support the girl with a warm hand on her shoulder. "I... I don't think we can stop being angry. I am not telling you to stop being angry. I am not telling you to stop being hurt. You cannot stop that."

"I want to be happy, but every time - I just... Naho and Sumi can't play anymore, they can't smile anymore, they can't... can't anything anymore because they're dead and I'm alive and that's not fair!"

"That needs to stop," Shinobu interjected softly."Sumi and Naho would never blame you. They would never be jealous that you survived and they did not. It was not your fault. It was not in your control."

"But -"

"If you had died," Shinobu took a breath and braced herself. What a hypocrite she was. "If you had been the one to die, would you have blamed Sumi and Naho for surviving?"

There was a long, silent moment, broken only by Miku's soft breaths that were starting to become heavier.

"No..." the child murmured after a long moment.  "No... I would be happy... but they didn't -"

"And you did," Shinobu smiled. "You did survive. They'd be happy, I know it. I miss them, Miku, I do... I miss them and I wish they had survived. I wish they were here so that I could hold them and tell them everything I should've... but it's not your fault you survived, it's not your burden either"

"But it -" her voice broke as she shattered into sobs. Shinobu rushed forward, trying to pick up the pieces as she held the girl, her own heart breaking. "It's not fair!" Miku sobbed. "It's not fair!!"

"It's not, I know it's not," Shinobu nodded, rocking the girl just like Kanae used to rock her. "I know it's not."

"I miss them! I miss them and if it wasn't for me -"

"They never would've played tag," Shinobu breathed. "They never would've gotten to play hide and seek in the trees. Miku, they lived and died. I don't think they'd regret how it happened."

"But I do!" Miku wailed, banging her fist against Shinobu's chest. The tsuguko knew well enough that the half-demon could've hit a lot harder if she wanted to. The child was being gentle with her and that in itself felt like a tragedy. Miku should be allowed to scream and wail and thrash with all her strength, but she was too strong and too controlled. Too grown. Shinobu felt tears come to her eyes.

"I know you do, I know you do... this will heal. I promise this will heal. It has to heal. It will heal!"

"It's my fault! He wanted me! He came for me!"

"It's not, I swear to you it's not."

They sat there for too long, holding each other, crying as Shinobu the hypocrite told the girl everything Kanae had been trying to tell her. They sat there as Shinobu soothed a heart as angry as hers. They sat there and Miku cried until she couldn't cry anymore.

"I have an idea," Shinobu murmured softly as those sobs turned into dry sniffles. It could be a terrible idea... but it was all she had. "Let's go see them."

Miku looked up, her eyes still watering but her gaze growing firm.

Then they left, hand in hand, and walked. They walked for a long while until they reached that sacred spot and found those daunting stones. The sun was warm, the grass was soft, and the burials were quiet. Then they sat at Sumi and Naho's new graves in matched utter silence.

The wind rustled the grass, and the bugs sang to the summer day. Minutes turned into an hour which nearly turned into a second one.

"I learned to jump-twist today..." The admission came softly and somehow Shinobu knew it wasn't meant for her. Miku continued; "You were right, Naho, Sensei Uzui is really weird."

It turned into a second hour, then a third as Miku caught the girls up on everything they'd missed. She cried, understandably a few times, words catching in her throat and melting into blubbering 'I miss you's and 'I'm sorry's' which Shinobu responded to by rubbing the girl's back in the only soothing gesture she could manage, her own eyes tearing up as she thought of those lovely girls who were so eager to help, so happy to smile, so young to have lost so much... But eventually, Miku's tears ran dry once more and her words ran out. Then they stood, and Miku took Shinobu's hand again, looking up at her through red eyes and a quivering lip.

"Do you think we could come back again?" she murmured.

"Of course," Shinobu could hardly breathe through her clenched throat. "We can come as often as you'd like."

Miku looked back to the graves and nodded. "Thank you..."

And Shinobu wanted to fall to her knees and say 'no... no, thank you', because late that night, when the crickets were loud and the wind was colder she too went back to that gravesite, sat down in front of dozens of graves and told them each a little about what they'd missed. Some were old friends. Some were people she'd arrived a little too late for. Some were those who had spent their final moments in her arms.

She told them about how things had changed, how she had survived, how she'd grown; how she had figured out to kill demons even though she wasn't as strong as she wished she could be. She told them about Kanae, and how she'd become a Hashira, about Kanao and how far she'd come. She told them about how there were demons in the butterfly estate now, and estate they were going to rebuild, and how they had successfully held off Muzan. She told them and found her heart bleeding in ways she hadn't allowed it to.

Finally, when she settled down in front of a small memorial she and her sister had set up more than a decade ago, she told her parents about the little girl whom she was going to help. And somehow, she knew they were smiling.

Because there had to be a way to heal.

(*Crawls into view* 20,000 words bby. We LIVE by the word count and we DIE by the word count. *Crawls back into my cave*

Kanae: *held together with 10 pounds of duck tape and 20 years of elder sister trauma* Hiiii, how are you??? I'm fineeee. Yes. I'm put together. Why do you ask? Would you like assistance? NO? Wrong answer. I'm here to help. I'm always here to help.

Sanemi: Jesus Christ will you sit down and relax

Kanae: NO! BECAUSE, UNLIKE SOME PEOPLE, SANEMI, I CANNOT DISREGARD MY RESPONSIBILITIES AND THROW THEM TO THE WIND IN THE HOPES THAT THEY'LL MAGICALLY FIND A BETTER LIFE WITHOUT ME YOU LIL PIECE OF SHIT THAT I LOVE BUT ACTUALLY DESPISE RN.

Sanemi: y'know what. So fair queen. I'm gonna go sit in my room now. So sorry.

Shinobu: *Held together with 5 pounds of duck tape, 20 glasses of pure spite, a shot of expresso, and enough hate to fuel the Starship Enterprise* Fuck him up sis. Fuck him up. Not like that tho. No actual fucking. I might kill something. 

Shinobu: If I see ANYONE doing something stupid, I'm either gonna decapitate Muzan or stab Tengen, and only ONE of those bastards is within stabbing range.

Tengen: Please everyone, for the love of GOD don't do something stupid. Please.

Tengen: *Drops a flashbang on accident*

Tengen: Oh fuck. *gets stabbed*

Genya: "Hi welcome to Denny's, would you like Depression? Too bad, I took it all."

Muichiro: HA, same tho. Besties?

Genya: BESTIES! I'd give you a double high five... but... you know...

Mui: I take it back. I take it back so fast. Get the fuck out.

Genya: Okay. :(

Doma: Hi guys!

Gyutaro and Daki: Hi... we're... um... we're not having a good time.

Doma: Oh so fair and true. But I do have good news!

Daki and Gyutaro: What?

Doma: We're adopting you.

Doma: Right now actually

Doma: Like it happened. Already. While we were having this conversation.

Doma: Kotoha already signed the papers

Kotoha: *shuffles papers menacingly*

Doma: Now you are legally obligated to call me Dad. I am your Father. I birthed you, in fact.

Zenitsu: I am no longer having fun. I'm actually having an offscreen character arc you'll see in a chapter or so. Sucks to suck, but it sucks more to have a bitch-ass brother who defects to the demon side and gets your fucking sensei to commit seppuku to atone. If anyone needs me, I'll be sharpening my sword, contemplating murder, and fist-fighting my insomnia.

Zenitsu: I'll never sleep again, actually

Nezuko: *sleeping peacefully* Sucks to suck I guess

Akaza: *Also having the best sleep of his life* Literally could not relate

Nezuko: F's in the chat

Akaza: Sleep is good

Nezuko: Sleep is life

Anyway, thanks for reading everyone! Hope you're having a great day/night!)