Disclaimer:

I do not own nor claim all the rights to 鬼滅の刃 | Kimetsu no Yaiba | Demon Slayer; all rights are reserved to its respective creator, Koyoharu Gotōge. This is purely a work of fiction; names, characters, businesses, events, localities, and occurrences are all extrapolated from the author's writings and imagination or utilized in a fictitious manner. As such, any direct or indirect references to actual entities, dead or alive, or events do not, in any shape or form, resemble the opinions of the author.

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"..." = Dialogue

'...' = Internal monologues

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Sorry about this long-overdue update—and that it's not as long as my other chapters. I've literally had no free time since school's been keeping me hella busy.

As a result, I really have only the weekends to work on this.

This chapter was originally going to be longer. However, due to time constraints, I chose to cut it in half.

With that said, I'm going to make upcoming chapters shorter—but they will be just as meticulous as any other one.

But, I will try to update as often I can, so do be expecting that!

Also, just wanted to thank you guys for 100 views, cheers!

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Cold.

Unrelenting.

Merciless.

In the vastness of a great field, a stunning image of hay and tall grass enclosed this particular meadow. The late evening sunlight shone brilliantly as its majestic rays illuminated the locality with its galvanizing and illustrious blaze. The lush greenery and cultivated fields exuded an atmosphere of serenity and perpetual tranquility. 

With such a remarkable scenery, one would anticipate for the physical characteristics and ambiance of this particular vicinity to be reflected upon the hearts and minds of any individual who happens to situate themselves here. 

In other words, an evocation of peace and sobriety on behalf of this heath should intuitively facilitate such fervors within the wandering individual or the contemporary denizens.

However, on this particular occasion, no such feelings could be discerned by either the eyes or ears. 

Only the odor of rotting flesh, the scene of a myriad of corpses prostrated on the mud, and blood splattered along every blade of grass and every square meter of the floor could be perceived; they were the only identifiable facets of this dark reality.

Among the dead, a single man stood with vigor in the moor. He stood indignantly with a solemn posture; with malice towards none, but no pompous attitude displayed towards all. 

He stood, equipped with an unsheathed Katana on his right hand, bruises and lacerations protruding throughout his physique and a grim look on his face as he stared upon the endless streams of bodies that laid before him. 

He stood in silence as a requiem for the fallen heroes, but also a curse directed towards the sinners and the delusional. 

He stood in a position of strength and superiority, but he did not endorse such extravagant dispositions. He mourned, but he did not ask Kami-sama for forgiveness.

He simply stood because he was both the casualty and the aggressor, receiver of deceptions and deceiver of the innocent, both the victim and the murderer...

...

...

...

Shinobu smiled softly as she silently observed the unusual and intriguing sight of Giyuu's facial expression while he underwent a deep slumber. 

She was still unsure of what to make of Yui's departing statements; specifically, what she meant by realizing the true value of something only after you've lost it. 

Such a notion wasn't foreign to Shinobu—as the tragedies that struck her family time after time has seemed to solidify that fact—but she couldn't imagine it being applied now; long after all of her loved ones have already passed, long after the time she had any legitimate meaning to remain on this Earth... 

Or did she...?

A cloud of uncertainty hovered over her thoughts as she deliberated over what aspect of her life could possibly serve as a further impetus for her. 

Up until now, she always assumed that her drive was derived from her hatred of Douma—the wicked and abominable demon who stole the life of her older sister, Kanae. 

But, was that it? Is her whole life, so far, only defined by such rage? 

Shinobu assumed so. 

However, the time since her sister had passed seemed very morbid; being compelled to ascertain one's purpose on this Earth only through the notion of unbridled contempt does seem to be useful in achieving one's goal when it is made analogous with that feverish emotion, but it deprives one of everything else that should be cherished and thoroughly experienced in life.

In the duration since her sister's passing, Kocho Shinobu had done everything within her capabilities to propel herself to an efficacious fighter and contributor of the Corps—as evident by her present niche as a distinguished Hashira. 

Concurrently, though, she has refrained from indulging in the many pleasures and largesses bestowed upon the ecstatic and idealistic youth of Japan. At age 18, Shinobu—in a similar fashion to many of her peers and slayers alike—was a young woman whose mental age was four times her physical one. 

Trauma, loss, and the constant danger of losing one's life in the line of duty had the potential to accelerate the maturity of many unsuspected adolescents into the mindset of a cold, despondent middle-aged adult. 

Shinobu was no exception, and neither was Giyuu. It all appears to be disheartening; for a child to lose their innocence and become something one shouldn't even think of undertaking. 

But, alas, this is a tragic and unforgiving world where the forces of nature have the power to arbitrarily subject anyone to a state of misfortune and despair.

However, such tenuous conditions had drained all of the energy and life out of Shinobu—to a degree where she had grown very circumspect and mentally exhausted with the current state of affairs. As she conspicuously interpreted those nuanced feelings into her own words during the rooftop conversation with Tanjiro: 'But now, I'm a bit exhausted.'

Shinobu then sighed; now wasn't the time, she had other matters to tend to.

She promptly sat down next to Giyuu and reclined her back to the seat.

'I wonder how much longer until we arrive at Yokohama,' she thought, as recent developments had indicated that she had to revert to a period of boredom and utter lassitude in the absence of a captivating conversation.

'That discussion with Yui really helped pass the time, but now what? Taking another nap isn't a viable option after... what happened earlier... with Tomioka... Oh kami-sama, that was embarrassing. But good thing Tomioka wasn't awak—'

*Cough*

"... Ara-ara, are you awake Tomioka-san?" Shinobu asks irritatingly as she turns her head to face Giyuu—whose face was directed towards the window.

"... No..." he replies.

'This absolute idiot.'

"Oh? Is that so? So for how long were you in this imaginary, transcendent boundary between conscious wakefulness and lethargic slumber?"

"..."

"Would it help if I pulled out my dagger and stabbed you in the ribs?" she queries as a large vein emerged on her forehead.

"I was asleep," he answers.

"Until when exactly?" the tone of her voice was completely saturated with annoyance and exasperation.

"I don't know."

"Tomioka-san, how long were you awake?" she begins to prod him on the right arm with her index finger.

"I can't say for sure..."

'When is this man going to answer the damn question!'

She smiled maliciously, "I'm sorry Tomioka-san, I can't take that for an answer. So, please, do me a favor and tell me before I amputate you—after all, medicine is my profession."

"... I don't know."

"I guess there's no helping it. So, Tomioka-san, would like your ring finger chopped off, or your index finger?" Shinobu says sadistically, despite the supposed grin that serves to dissuade outsiders from perusing and harboring suspicions about the nature of this exchange—despite it being very much abnormal.

"Kocho-san, I don't think this is an appropriate time t—" before Giyuu could finish, Shinobu cuts him off.

"No, no, I think it's appropriate. Now, what's the verdict?"

"Verdict?" he says.

"Ring finger or index finger?" Shinobu smiles.

"... I'm not awake," he audaciously replies.

'This mother f—'

"Tomioka-san, you know it's disrespectful to treat someone like a complete fool—especially girls," the manifestation of multiple veins becomes apparent as Shinobu attempts to coherently communicate with a social hermit.

Giyuu sighs, and turns his waist—in a gesture of capitulation—to position his face and eyes so that they were looking down upon Shinobu's head.

"Oh my, I guess the great Water Pillar can sometimes read the situation, though I suppose that's only reserved for rare occasions," she says sarcastically.

Giyuu simply stared at her with a blank expression on his face, "I had been fully conscious long before you woke up."

"Ara-ara, is that correc—" Shinobu suddenly stopped.

She, of course, immediately recognized this enigmatic innuendo presented by Giyuu as being indicative of something she had hoped that he would've never witnessed himself. 

This refers to the fact that Shinobu unintentionally—but quite boldly—utilized Giyuu as a support structure for her body to lean on while the rudimentary cerebral mechanisms enter into a state of dormancy. 

With that said, Shinobu was in the erroneous belief that Giyuu had access to no such information or empirical evidence relating to this phenomenon. Such beliefs, though, were immediately repudiated as soon as Giyuu hinted that he had overseen such a scene due to his awakening serving as a direct antecedent to Shinobu's subsequent one.

"W-What did you just say?" Shinobu asked as her face had begun to heat up.

Giyuu, aware of his previous blunder with Shinobu back when they were traversing towards Oyakata-sama's residence, did his best to exonerate himself through a comprehensive and very formal explanation rather than some succinct platitudes, "I believe I woke up approximately 20 minutes before you did; in that time, I tried multiple times to regain what was my hitherto state of lethargy but to of no avail... So, I chose to save you from the debacle by emulating the tendencies inhibited by sleeping individuals. However... It seems as if I have failed to uphold that vocation."

'I think my mitigated efforts are going to pay off,' Giyuu prided himself with handling this conundrum with the utmost care and precision.

Unbeknownst to Giyuu, though, Shinobu's thoughts were completely incongruous to Giyuu's supposed postulations.

Her head was spinning with a plethora of thoughts on the implications of both this particular action—she had no such interactions with anyone else before—and the acknowledgment of such on behalf of the oblivious recipient. 

Then, images of her conversation with Yui and the emphasis on cherishing your loved ones along with her departing words came flowing back into Shinobu's head at the worst possible time. 

Shinobu's level of comfort and pride reached their respective limits.

In accordance to this spontaneous procedure, Shinobu's face undergoes a completely red-like coating as she struggles to process the notion that Giyuu was well-aware of her awkward gesticulations from earlier—he was quite informed from the start. 

She endeavors, with great effort, to overcome the insurmountable urge to break her composure and temporarily elude this uncomfortable circumstance for which she finds herself in.

'Tomioka-san knows, Tomioka-san knows, Tomioka-san knows,' her thoughts repeat over and over as this predicament has completely engrossed her mind into a condition of panic and disorderly desecration against her wishes and demands for repose.

"S-So, you saw m-me sleeping..." she muttered with a sheepish grin—unable to properly formulate words.

"Yes."

"On your right arm..."

"That is correct."

'I think it's working,' Giyuu conjectures... incorrectly.

"Tomioka-san..." with a face flushed with embarrassment, and a chest so tight that every sequence of breath required tremendous and indefatigable exertion, Shinobu speaks, "will you do me a favor?"

"Okay...?" he said in a mystified tone.

"Please jump out the window," she replies.

"............. Kocho-san, are you okay?" Giyuu inquires.

"Or do I have to do it myself?" said Shinobu.

"I don't think I should have to do it in the first place," said Giyuu.

"Just this once, please?"

"You're making it sound like it's standard practice..." Giyuu noted.

"I assumed there would be some kind of exception for someone like you," Shinobu countered.

"What kind of logic is that..." Giyuu frowns.

"It's a universal truth."

"I highly doubt that..."

"Well, I don't."

"And I do."

"Ara-ara, Tomioka-san, do you actually believe that your opinion matters at the moment?"

"I would seriously assume so, since you're asking me to hop, head-first, off a speeding train going at full speed," Giyuu rebukes.

"And is there any problem with that...?" Shinobu asks almost bashfully—utterly confusing Giyuu and his evaluation of Shinobu's intentions.

"... Kocho-san, are you fooling around?"

"No? Why would I be?"

"...... Are you okay...?"

"Yes?" Shinobu answers.

'This is getting quite ridiculous. I can't tell if she's being sarcastic or not...' Giyuu's thought processes enter into a state of confusion.

"Then why are you asking me to jump off a moving train," Giyuu blurted.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Why—... are you trying to kill me...?"

"I would prefer to do so, but I must take a more moderate approach to this," Shinobu brooded.

'Moderate approach? What 'moderate' approach?' Giyuu's eyes twitch at the prospect of such an insinuation.

"As things are now, you might as well be blunt and admit that you're trying to kill me," said Giyuu.

"Oh dear, why would you suspect such horrid notions to come out of me?"

"Because, Kocho-san, I do happen to vividly remember you hiding a knife within the confines of your footwear; a knife that nearly impaled my face during the Natagumo Mountain Incident," Giyuu rebuked.

'Knife? Natagumo? What is he talking abo—nevermind I remember now... How foolish of me...' Shinobu, recollecting her memories from that particular confrontation, immediately begins to regret all of her undertakings and ignominies that blemished her name and sullied her image in the eyes of Giyuu.

Even so, she still kept up the public facade and hid her emotions with a smiling face, "Not my fault that you broke protocol without informing me."

"I didn't? I thought I was articulate with my explanation," Giyuu tilted his head.

'What does this man think 'articulate' and 'explanation' means?!' Shinobu groaned internally.

"No, you didn't say anything other than, 'Two years ago..' without any context," said Shinobu.

"You were asking me why I was defending Kamado-san," Giyuu replied.

"And you gave a half-assed answer that expounded no additional information other than the already-established truth that you are an airhead," Shinobu countered, keeping the plastered smile despite the frustration that was building up within her.

"I was going to elaborate until you interrupted," said Giyuu.

"Elaborate? From an aloof man like you? You wish! This, right now, is probably the most I've heard come out of your mouth! So don't expect me to believe in your little fantasies," mocked Shinobu.

"Maybe it's because you have a short attention span," Giyuu attacked.

"Short attention span? Me? My, my, you don't know me well, Tomioka-san."

"You're right, I really have no clue what goes on in that head of yours," Giyuu answers.

'Look who's talking,' Shinobu thought with dismay.

"Well I'm glad that you don't, otherwise that would be a breach of privacy," said Shinobu.

"No... I'm saying that I have no means of determining what provokes you or not. I have no clue what ticks you off, so I repeatedly make the same mistakes over and over without realizing it," Giyuu's demeanor oversees a subtle, but an equally substantial shift.

Shinobu's eyes widen, and she nearly breaks her obligatory smile.

Taken aback by this response, Shinobu replies, "Do you...?"

"Yes, it seems all I do is unintentionally anger you or intentionally exacerbate a heated conversation into an argument. It's not convenient for either party—especially in the middle of a mission," Giyuu explains.

'Wow... I never knew he was self-conscious about that. I really don't know how to follow up on that...' Shinobu's cognitive processes came to a temporary halt as she allotted time to make sense of Giyuu's words.

For a good couple of seconds, no word was spoken, no sound contrived, as only the reverberation of the train and surrounding voices within the railway carriage were the primary sources of any discernible noise.

Finally, Shinobu spoke—though, it was more like a mutter, "... This is why nobody likes you, Tomioka-san..."

"I'm not disliked by people," Giyuu replied casually.

'So, is she gonna give me suggestions or what?'

Giyuu sighed, unable to fully understand just about anything that was going on, he turned his head away from Shinobu to look out the window again.

'I guess I'm just not compatible with people in general,' he pondered as the locomotive ploughed through the innumerable quantity of rice paddies, isolated buildings native to the countryside, dirt roads that permit the transportation of goods and people across the vast fields, and the wide array of trees and undergrowth that divulged its lush green complexion for the world and passengers to spectate and be allured at.

As Giyuu glanced out the window, he felt a shove that thrust itself upon his right shoulder. He turned his head; it was Shinobu. Her head was lounging on the upper half of Giyuu's arm where her temple rested upon his shoulder. Her face wasn't visible from Giyuu's perspective, but the distinct features and idiosyncrasies of her hair conspicuously bestowed its tantalizing sight upon Giyuu's eyes.

Her hair was shoulder-length and wavy; it was not too long, nor did it fit the description of being dubbed too short. Moreover, her hair—as it approaches the anterior segment of her face; the area situated around the temples—fades from a black cast into a tinge of dark purple before fully integrating into the iris-like coloring it fancies. 

Meanwhile, the posterior section of hair is styled into a "yakai-maki" coiffure and fastened with a white and purple butterfly ornament. Unlike the bangs that delve downwards to the neck level at the fringe of her facial region, she has an additional ear-length bang that diverged from the main chorus—it redirects its disposition away from the ones that head down to the neck level. 

These particular bangs are elevated slightly away from her head before falling to frame her face. Furthermore, on top of the split bangs with a bit of curvature, these strands of hair also harbor two thinner chin-length strands below them. It was one magnificent sight that alluded the eyes to closely inspect the unique and unorthodox facets pertinent to someone else's hair. 

Giyuu couldn't help but admire such a spectacle; it was beautiful and it was oddly nostalgic. It reminded him of his days with his elder sister. She was a lovely young lady that was just days away from getting married before... before that happened...

As the afternoon sunlight glistened through the fringes of the window frame and brilliantly shone its rays upon the two slayers, the purple amethyst color—which defined a certain portion of her hair—reacted with a sudden surge of photons by elucidating and emitting vibrant, enriching irradiation that captivated the attention and subservience of Giyuu's eyes to this spectacular display of art and beauty.

The joyous, yet painful memories of his sister left his heart confused and mind irrational.

"Kocho-san?" said Giyuu.

"Shut up, let me sleep," she said almost sternly—in reality, though, she was embarrassed to the point of no return and therefore hid her red face from Giyuu's field of view.

Giyuu looked at her with confusion, "You make no sense at times."

"Do you want me to throw you off this train?"

"I would rather not."

"Thought so," Shinobu huffed as she clung onto his forearm.

'Personality-wise, my sister's more considerate and less doting on the notion of teasing me... But, Kocho does resemble my sister. My sister was also beautiful.'

"You know..." Giyuu started.

"Hm? What is it?" Shinobu replied.

"... Actually, nevermind," he abruptly silenced himself.

"Why'd you even say anything in the first place..."

"Because..."

"Because?"

"... Nevermind..."

"Tomioka-san, you really are a piece of work aren't you?"

"I could say the same to you," Giyuu replies.

"... I guess you could say it for the both of us," Shinobu adds.

Tomioka, shifted his line of sight back to the view behind the window, "Indeed."

[Credit goes to the respective artist]

..

..

..

..

"Shinobu? Oii! Shinobuuuu! Moshi moshi?" someone called out.

"Wha..." I groan as I turn to my side.

"Wakey wakey! It's morning!" Kanae said excitedly.

"Five more minutes, Nee-san," I say with a muffled voice due to my head being situated deep within the perimeters of the pillow.

"That's what you said yesterday~" Kanae replied.

"I did not..." I said weakly.

"Sureeee," my older sister said.

I sigh, "What time is it?"

"Six~"

"......... I'm going back to sleep," I say nonchalantly.

"Whaaa? Whyyy?"

"I'm not a morning person, Nee-san. I usually wake up between 7 and 8," I say back.

"But you do have chores to take care of," she smiled.

"That... can be done later today," I said.

"And what about training?"

"Same thing, I can do it after the chores," I explain.

"And the medical bay?" she added.

I grumbled, "Okay fine, I'll get up."

"Yay! Now you'll have plenty of time to tend to all of your business AND more time for training!" Kanae said effusively.

"Nee-san, why are you so keen on seeing me train? You know that I don't have the physical strength to climb to the upper echelon of the Corps," I comment.

"Ara-ara, you're asking me why you have to train?"

"Yes...?"

"Because, Shinobu, it will be helpful in your efforts to climb the ranks!" Kanae exclaimed.

"Were you even listening..." I grimaced.

"In any case, if you want to succeed around here, you're going to have to work very hard! And, to do that, you need to be very punctual and effective with your time management skills~" Kanae explained.

I would espouse a querulous attitude as a means to chastise her, but she's got a point. It's been a few years since the two of us were admitted into the Demon Slayer Corps, and she's already the Flower Pillar of the Hashiras while I'm merely a Kanoe. Maybe it's because of my corporeal inadequacy, or maybe—as Nee-san puts it—my lack of willpower to do what needs to be done.

"Fine, I'll get up and complete all of the housework by noon," I acquiesce.

"And a training session in the evening?" Kanae queries.

I sigh, "Yeah, I will."

"Yay! Now, I have to attend a conference at Oyakata-sama's abode, so I'll leave the Butterfly Estate to you," she informs.

"Understood," I acknowledge.

Thus, I emerged from the precinct of the futon that enclosed me with a warm embrace. I then promptly stretched out my arms and yawned; I was still feeling languid from this unconventional morning schedule that primarily consisted of waking up early in the morning—something I wasn't exactly used to.

"Well, I'll be on my way then, have fun!" Kanae said as she left the room.

"Itterasshai," I simply responded.

As soon as Kanae left the room and slid the Shoji screen door shut, I let out a big sigh.

"I've got a long day ahead of me... I should plan it out," I say to myself as I begin folding my futon for storage in the nearby closet.

Within minutes, I undertake each of the necessary—and almost sacrosanct to some—procedures that are extensively utilized and assumed during the morning hours. From brushing my teeth to fixing my hair, and dressing in the appropriate apparel—the compulsory uniforms of the Demon slayer Corps—I was ready to make breakfast and tend to my preconceived image of what the day will most likely look like.

To my dismay, though, it seems a rigid structure for planning holds no room for arbitrary occurrences that demands more flexibility from an inelastic mechanism.

As I made my way down the staircase, I could hear my sister engaging in a colloquy in a manner of blithe and hospitable cordiality. I could not distinguish whomever she may be talking to; probably because it was only my sister who was speaking in the first place. Kanae, being conversant and highly skilled with the manipulation of formal and informal conversations—by controlling the flow of the discussion—was always the loquacious one.

This was no different.

"So, you've been dismissed by Oyakata-sama, Tomioka-san?" she inquires.

"Yes," the man simply replies.

Tomioka? That name sounds familiar...

As I approach the scene of this discussion, I eventually come to spot an older teenager with messy hair, bluish eyes, and a half-split Haori that was imbued with abnormal, geometric patterned squares of varying colors. 

He had a withered look on his face; as if that was the standard expression that constantly smothered his face. He doesn't seem friendly, but he certainly has the look of reliability written all over him.

The man and my sister were both standing nearby the Genkan—traditional Japanese entryway areas for a house, apartment, or building; something of a combination of a porch and a doormat. It is usually located inside the building directly in front of the door. The primary function of the genkan is for the removal of shoes before entering the main part of the house or building.

"Why were you forcibly excused for this meeting?" Kanae asks.

"Oyakata-sama recommended that it was in my best interest to seek medical attention and rest for my wounds," he answered plainly.

"Wounds? Oh dear, you're hurt?" Kanae said concerningly.

"Just some minor cuts, nothing too major. However, I must adhere to rules and regulations, and therefore must ask that the Butterfly Estate procure the necessary treatment for this minor debacle," he explains in a very punctilious manner.

"We can most definitely treat those wounds," Kanae said as she finally spots me, "ah Shinobu! Can you treat him while I'm away?"

Well, I suppose work starts early today.

"Yeah, sure," I complied.

"Great! Tomioka-san, this is my younger sister—Shinobu. Shinobu, this is Tomioka-san—the Water Hashira," Kanae introduces us.

Water Hashira? He's a Hashira? It's not every day that one of the great Hashiras is injured and requires medical treatment when they seldom even get a single scratch on them.

"Pleasure meeting you, Kocho Shinobu," He tilts his head slightly towards the ground and back up again as a greeting gesture.

I return the gesture, "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Water Hashira-sama."

"Oh! You can just call him 'Tomioka-san' as well," Kanae points out.

"Huh? But he's a Hashira! I'm too low ranked for tha—" I was about to protest.

"It's fine," The Water Hashira interjects. 

"See?" Kanae smiles.

"Alright then... Tomioka-san..." I say hesitantly. 

"I'll leave you to it, then. I'll see you later Shinobu, and I hope you undergo a smooth recovery, Tomioka-san," Kanae smiles.

"Okay... See you, Nee-san," I replied, anxiety building up at the thought of being left alone with someone as distinguished as a Hashira.

"Thank you," The Water Hashira bows slightly toward Kanae.

Kanae reciprocates the bow and takes her leave from the vicinity.

Now, there's just me and the Water Pillar—or, rather, Tomioka-san.

I should probably guide him to the medical infirmary.

"Follow me," I immediately state as I turn around and walk towards the designated locality.

Tomioka takes heed of my words and follows.

We soon arrive at Kanae's official workroom where bottles of medicine and other devices of similar nature conspicuously displayed themselves to the world atop a multitude of shelves adjacent to the east wall. Additionally, being the office of an incumbent Hashira, there were piles of scratch paper and documents reposing on top of various tables, desks, and even the floor.

"Sit here," I pull out a chair.

Tomioka complies and sits down. I notice that his posture seems a bit too... rigid.

"So, what's the problem?" I ask as I am perusing through some medicine.

"I have a slight scratch on my back," he replied.

"May I examine it?"

"Sure," he replied without a hint of emotion.

He's definitely weird.

He then disrobes his Haori and begins to unbutton his combat uniform as a means to unveil his wound. He carefully pulls his shirt down and discloses the sore spot to which he attributes the discomfort.

That's no mere scratch...

"Tomioka-san... how did this happen..." I say.

"One week ago, I began noticing a stinging sensation on my back. It progressively got worse to the point at which it incessantly bothered me. Why do you ask?" he expounds.

"This 'scratch' it which you refer to, is actually a large gash that should've been remedied MUCH earlier than now," I explain calmly.

However, I'm livid. He's supposedly a Hashira, but doesn't know one damn thing about medicine and tending wounds! One more week and an infection would have developed around the perforation and he would've died due to inflammation! He's lucky to have Oyakata-sama dismiss him AND have the medical expertise of the Butterfly Estate at his disposal!

"Gash? How big?" he asks.

"I can estimate about 20 centimeters in vertical length. Forgetting that, though, why didn't you refer to us earlier about this," I state.

"I only came under the orders of Oyakata-sama; I've never seen the need nor trouble of presenting myself to these grounds," he replies.

"You're telling me this is your first time here at the Butterfly Estate?" I inquire.

"That is correct."

I internally groan. There's a reason why Kanae and I have been entrusted with the reigns of this particular branch within the Demon Slayer Corps; every Slayer for whom have incurred injuries as a result of active duty service always seeks—no matter if it's extensive to a large degree or a simple medical check-up—treatment and appeal for rectification to the medical prowess of the staff and physicians alike. Therefore, the notion of not doing so was obviously unheard of and highly unlikely.

Yet, here I am, witnessing the Water Hashira informing me that he had never been induced to accrue consultation from experts on conciliatory measures to ameliorate any concerns regarding his physical state.

"Tomioka-san, if I may, that's the kind of behavior you'd undertake to get yourself killed. If you would have waited any longer, I highly believe that the cut would've worsened and subjected you to perpetual illness that would only incapacitate you from any further service to the Corps," I say bluntly.

"I apologize for my indiscretions," Tomioka mumbled.

"I'm not asking for apologies, just saying that you should look out for your body a bit more," I reply.

"I speculated that welcoming myself into this wonderful mansion after every mission would be intruding on my part to your private business. Even now, I can see that you had other plans for the morning before I came in between all that," he explained almost solemnly.

This guy... is seriously an idiot.

"That doesn't mean you allow a serious injury to be left to its own devices!" I almost shouted.

"..." he didn't reply.

I sigh, "Okay, at least it's a good thing you came today—even if it wasn't due to your own volition. But I want to make one thing clear: we don't 'welcome' people as if they're patrons of private businesses; we're public servants who are in no position to deny people the services they are in great need of. So, next time, please don't be so self-conscious."

Tomioka simply sat in silence before speaking, "I understand that."

"Then what's stopping you?" I catechized.

"... I usually don't talk to people," he replies.

Eh? What the hell does that mean?

"That's great and all, but sometimes you're going to have to talk to strangers," I said.

"I don't like talking to people," he elaborated.

"Well, neither do I," I rebuked.

"It's more complicated... I usually never talk to anyone, not to strangers, not to other slayers, and not with the other pillars," he explains.

This man... he doesn't even talk to his own colleagues? This goes beyond being just a social hermit.

"Well then, who do you talk to then? Got any friends? Families?" I query.

"No." he replied curtly.

"Oh... Sorry, forget I said anything," I said in an attempt to recoup the damage I might've incurred.

I think I asked too much of him...

"It's fine, many people here are orphans or have lost a loved one to demons—hence, why they're here," he said, but in such a way that exuded such a monotone and insipid demeanor that even I was left confounded by how accustomed he might've been to those words.

That itself is very accurate; plenty of slayers had enlisted not because of their altruistic propensities, but more so due to their underlying hatred and abhorrence of demons.

"That's... true," I say as images of my late parents enclose my mind into a permanent state of abstract dormancy.

"I'm assuming you also are one."

"Huh?" I snap out of my reverie.

"An orphan."

"Ah... indeed I am," I look down—painful memories aren't exactly pleasant.

"Pardon me for the sudden scrutiny," Tomioka said.

"Oh no, it's ok. I just... haven't had this conversation with anyone else before," I reply.

"Your sister?"

"Ah, Nee-san... She tries to keep the subject hidden from view; she's probably worried about how it would affect me. Heh, she still thinks I'm some 8-year-old crybaby who'll bawl out her eyes at the mention of her dead parents," I add.

"She doesn't—"

"Yeah, she hasn't mentioned their passing for years now," I finish his statement.

"... Are you troubled by it?" he asks another question.

"Not particularly, there's really no need for her to do so."

His impenetrable eyes and inscrutable countenance gave little away with respect to emotional expression; a very stoic man from the looks of it.

"So, no one ever mentions it?" he suddenly asks.

I was about to automatically answer, before realizing something, "Tomioka-san, I'd love to continue this little therapy session, but I believe there are some punctures on your back that ought to be properly addressed."

"Right..."

As I accumulated the necessary utensils and medical equipment required for the subsequent treatment, I spoke, "So... you don't have any friends?"

"..."

What's with that silence... Okay, to be fair, that was a dumb question.

"Disregard what I just sa—" I was about to finish.

"Indeed," Tomioka interrupted.

Huh, now he talks.

"And why's that?" I asked.

Tomioka took the liberty of not immediately replying—much to my annoyance—but did eventually relent, "An occupation with the ranks of the Demon Slayer Corps automatically categorizes your position as possibly the most dangerous task ever to be bestowed upon a meager human. The mortality rates only prove the caveats that exist with regard to the downsides of membership despite its benefactors. Therefore, it is frivolous to engage in bonding if the only thing waiting at the end of that line is an unnecessarily painful period."

He's not wrong... But there's just something wrong with that way of thinking; that you can't enjoy life because all good things will eventually end. So what? What's the point of avoiding being hurt when you're already hurt in the first place?

"Well, I can't say that I agree, Tomioka-san," I counter.

"That's fine. However, there's a reason why it is recommended to not have two members of your immediate family concurrently serving in a given period," he said, a clear reference to me and my sister.

"I am well aware of its implications, but my views on the matter still stand; it is more frivolous to discipline yourself to the death than it is to simply open up a little more," I lambasted.

"Then I suppose we adhere to different viewpoints on the matter," said Tomioka.

"It's not a matter of opinion, it's a matter of a willingness to take such risks," I replied.

"A willingness that can only be classified as being too risky."

"Quite the contrary, it should be a lack thereof that should be considered risky."

"And why's that?" Tomioka inquires.

"I believe that you're not truly living unless you experience some form of happiness; otherwise, redundant notions such as 'purpose' or 'destiny' only serve to delude you and nothing else," I explained.

"And what if it's a noble purpose?" Tomioka raises.

"That's not for you to decide, it's all subjective to one's opinions," I answered.

"That's only for the beneficiaries to determine that," said Tomioka.

"At the expense of your own livelihood?"

"If it's for a greater cause, yes."

"You act as if your life is worth less than a sack of manure," I lightly chide.

"..."

Is this man serious...?

"And I thought only a madman could think like that," I broaden the contents of my previous statement.

"If sacrificing my life serves a virtuous cause, then I'd gladly accept such a title."

"I must say, that's quite an ignorant comment," I reply.

"I could say the same for you," he riposted.

"How so? I think you might've hurt your eardrums, Tomioka-san," I say.

"..."

No response, huh.

Oh well, this conversation has completely diverted from the original topic at hand. Now, we're arguing over some philosophical points of contentions I rather not discuss at the moment—since, you know, I'm here to properly treat an aperture.

I sigh, "In any case, one thing is clear: you need to come over here more often."

"Since when did I agree to that," said Tomioka.

"You didn't, I did," I answered.

"I find that highly inconvenient," he replies.

"Well go cry me a river, cause if you dare not to attend the services of the Butterfly Estate following a dispatch or mission, then I will see fit to inform Oyakata-sama of your previous shenanigans and how you deliberately chose not to seek treatment," I berated.

"Following every mission?" Tomioka says with a look of confusion.

"Yes, as I cannot trust you to do so at the appropriate times. So, I might as well drag you here," I say back.

I pick up a piece of cloth and saturate it with a medical antiseptic with the intent of disinfecting the wound.

Tomioka lets out a small, but noticeable sigh that was neither too great nor too restrained, "You're quite stubborn."

"That's one way to put it."

I immediately slapped the cloth that was smeared with disinfectant onto the nucleus of the scratch situated on Tomioka's back.

Tomioka lets out a pusillanimous grunt as he recoils from the sudden surge of pain that was invoked as a result of the applied antiseptic.

"And don't ever think about playing hookey with the Butterfly Estate, oh-great Water Pillar," I retort as a means to invariably elicit a sense of urgency within Tomioka.

"You definitely aren't like the others," Tomioka says as he gradually becomes accustomed to the throbbing pain in his back.

"Oh? And why's that?"

"You're the only one other than Oyakata-sama whom I managed to have a decent conversation with; as, in most cases, I have discussions lasting from 1 to 5 seconds," he explains.

"Pfft—" I let out a laugh, "hahaha! What the heck! Watching you say something absolutely pathetic with a serious face is hilarious!"

"Well nevermind then," Tomioka said irritably.

"I'm sorry, haha," I say as I rebound from the laughter, "I just found it very intriguing."

"Intriguing? Why's that?"

"That out of all the slayers in the corps, I'm the only one who can actually have a conversation with you—even though I'm hardly extroverted myself," I explained.

"But you are certainly unique."

"Is that so? Even I cannot embellish myself with such compliments," I say jokingly.

"I say it with sincerity; you do strike me as an interesting individual," he nonchalantly replies.

Whoa... He's actually serious.

"Oh... I'm honored I guess," I said as I really had no idea how to respond to something that I had never encountered before.

"No, I must stand honored by your gestures, Kocho Shinobu. Not only have you treated my injuries, but you've also demonstrated an altruistic spirit of goodwill in your efforts to improve my health by inducing me to regularly visit the Butterfly Mansion—no matter how extreme the measures may seem," he said as he gave the most comprehensive bow possible from his irregular, seated posture.

"W-Why thank you..." I said timidly, completely baffled and embarrassed by this sudden show of gratitude from whom I initially perceived to be a cold, unyielding man.

"Also, in compliance with your orders, I will be present at the Estate following every mission—no matter how extensive it may be—for a minor check-up," he declares.

"That's... splendid," I said, still reeling from his previous pronouncements.

"I am at your service, Kocho-san," said Tomioka.

Tomioka-san... You're quite a reticent, but also a very quirky individual. He seems to genuinely interest me; from his elusive demeanor to his cordial poise while conferring with only me... Only me, huh? I wonder what he finds in me to be so fitting for an unorthodox move on his part—a conversation. 

I have a desire and a want to know why; that certainly isn't too much to ask, is it? But he certainly does surprise me, he's completely different from everyone else and I can't tell if that's particularly good or not. However, I am sure of one thing: I think I'll soon enjoy his presence...

..

..

..

..

"—cho-sa—"

"—ocho-san—"

"Kocho-san." a voice calls out.

I immediately arise from my slumber as I ask in a very lethargic manner, "Huh... what is it?"

I look to find Tomioka looking down upon me; and, almost instantly, I remember the contents of my little daydream along with events that unfolded earlier in the day. I feel the heat flushing my face as I desperately attempt to maintain equanimity.

"Tomioka-san..." I managed to get out.

"We've arrived," he informs.

..

..

The streets of 1910s Yokohama were the spitting image of a bustling city that exuded both the scene of progressive modernization and the continued maintenance of tradition within every facet of society. 

The former being evident by the presence and the development of 20th-century infrastructure—ranging from items such as an electric grid, automobiles, telephone lines, western-style skyscrapers, colonial-influenced structures, industrial plants, and many more—that acts as a prerequisite for admittance into modern-day society in both the physical and abstract sense. 

However, despite the enactment of measures guaranteeing Japan's standing as the industrial powerhouse of East Asia, tradition still lies within every aspect of culture and architecture to such a degree that one could hardly deny its sustained influence on both the people and the civilization it resides in.

Due to high population density, the streets were crowded with a myriad of pedestrians, local shops, cable cars, and the occasional—though extremely rare—automobile every now and then. 

Additionally, unlike Western buildings, Japanese structures were almost entirely made out of wood and maintained the orthodox practice with regards to the construction of traditional Japanese houses.

This combination and interrelation between old and new can be seen throughout Yokohama—and not just solely from architecture. 

For example, the pedestrians themselves are the epitome of such a dynamic relationship; as some can be seen wearing traditional Japanese clothing—better known as 'Kimono'—and others, particularly working men, fancy a standard, westernized business attire fitted with a formal suit, upscale sports jacket, dress pants, tie, business shirt, leather dress shoes, conservative leather accessories such as a briefcase or portfolio, and sometimes with the infrequent wrist watches showcasing an individual's level of opulence.

Dawn was approaching the city's landscape as the late summer sun's glimmer was due to settle beyond the horizon. However, for the two Hashiras, sunlight amounted to no use when acting as a determinant for their callous, dutiful commitments that beseeched them as acting Demon Slayers in the late twilight hours of this particular night.

..

..

As the two navigated their way around the pandemonium that engulfed this metropolis in every street corner and food stall, it dawned upon them that they had not considered one important aspect of every mission that should be taken into account: the duration. Whether a mission lasts for one day or one week, slayers are always expected to assess each given task with the worst-case scenario in mind. 

This, of course, includes the longevity of each succeeding mission they are assigned to. Meaning, they will have to appropriate a certain number of Yen to the purchasing of local hostels in which an overnight stay will be guaranteed within the vicinity in which their endeavors may as well occur.

"Kocho-san," Giyuu said.

"Yeah, I know. We have to find a place to lodge for the night," said Shinobu.

"That's the problem though," Giyuu replied, "there's been a massive influx of workers from rural areas into the cities as a result of the large-scale expansion in manufacturing thanks to the war."

"I thought you said you knew of no war at the train station...?" Shinobu questions suspiciously.

"My head was feeling hazy back then. I'm all okay now," Giyuu answers.

"You know, you really are a pain, Tomioka-san," Shinobu said irritatingly.

"Am I?"

"Yes, you are."

"I don't think I am," he said.

"Oh dear, did you hit your head, Tomioka-san?"

"If I did, I would be in critical condition right now."

"Exactly, you're already in critical condition as you are now," Shinobu giggles—though not the light-hearted kind.

Giyuu sighs, "Anyways, we should look elsewhere if we want to stay overnight."

"Housing shortages, right? All the hostels and lodges will be occupied by now," Shinobu finishes his statement.

"Indeed."

"Oh my, that's not good is it?"

"No, which is why aimlessly walking around the inner city won't help at all."

"Then I suppose we could head for the outer districts," Shinobu suggests.

"Okay," Giyuu acknowledges.

Thus, the two Hashiras embark on an extraordinary assignment: to find an inn that would enable them to remain within the locality of the designated area to which they've been commissioned to slay a troublesome demon. 

Otherwise, they would have to resort to subsistence means of caring for themselves; most notably, sleeping outside if they cannot hope to find a place to stay.

The search begins, and the two slayers must overcome their most crucial and difficult situation at hand. Hopes rang high at the beginning, as they assumed the outermost sections of the city hadn't been crowded yet by hordes of factory workers and military personnel. 

Although, there existed a hint of doubt and angst at their prospects; they are, after all, experienced fighters who have undergone numerous missions and exacting circumstances that stressed them to the point of mental trauma. 

Such is life within the Corps; you must always expect the worst and never remain optimistic—otherwise, you might find yourself using your Haori as a blanket and your sword like some bedtime teddy bear.

However, as seconds pass into minutes, and minutes pass into hours, the two begin to feel lethargic and disillusioned; if worst comes to shape, they will have to resort to such primitive measures—something they would very much not enjoy nor approve of on their end. 

Time was running out; the sun had already settled beyond the horizon and the Moon's illuminating light had overtly revealed itself to this primarily muted city—as most of its residents are either asleep or passed out drunk.

"Well, we tried everywhere," Shinobu said dishearteningly.

Giyuu scans the locality before spotting something, "We could ask someone."

"Someone?" Shinobu looks around to detect the object to which Giyuu is referring, only to find a relatively old man—somewhere in his 70s—with a Kiseru smoking pipe.

"Him?" she points.

"Yeah," Giyuu answers.

The two eventually approach him as a means to attain much-needed information.

"Excuse me, sir?" Shinobu asks.

The old man ignored the inquiry and continued blowing fumes of smoke from his pipe.

"Ano... sumimasen, are you listening?" Shinobu asks yet again.

No response.

"I don't think he's listening," Giyuu points out.

"Oh wow Tomioka-san, I never knew you had such a sharp eye," Shinobu comments quite sarcastically.

"I merely stated a fact," said Giyuu.

"A plainly obvious one, that is," Shinobu reprimands.

"A fact nevertheless."

"If you want to take matters into your own hands so badly, then be my guest," Shinobu replied.

"I never propounded anything of that sort," Giyuu counters.

"Oh really?"

"Yes," Giyuu said curtly.

"Ah, Hina-chan, is that you?" the old man calls out.

"Uh, no, this is someone else," Shinobu attempts to rationalize with the elder man,

"Look Hina-chan, I understand that our son might've doinked your third daughter, but please understand that they are young rascals like we were back in the day!" the old man elucidated with a deluded approach towards the receiving end of this conversation.

"What the hell..." Shinobu could only gawk at the stupidity of what she just heard and at the direction this conversation was going.

"..." Giyuu stood in silence as his method of overcoming stupidly atrocious situations is to keep quiet.

"I mean, I get that you wanted your daughter to marry some lawyer from Osaka, but you must understand that what we're witnessing is true love! Something that could only be considered a rarity back in our days—" the elderly man continued.

"Oh great, we're dealing with a senile old man," Shinobu groans.

"Should we go somewhere else," Giyuu suggests.

"I can second that motion," Shinobu agreed.

"—but still I must say that Seita-san was very bold in his efforts to court that lovely lady from Okinawa—" the background noise of the man's yapping incessantly continued.

But just as Shinobu and Giyuu were ready to abandon the vicinity in hopes of obtaining information on any alternative locations, they were approached by an elderly woman in her late 60s.

"Ah, and what's a lovely couple doing around these parts," she said as he carefully walked towards them.

"Oh no, you've got it all wrong; we're business partners," Shinobu smiles.

"Haha, I've heard a lot of things over the years, but this stands to be among the most humorous ones," she laughs.

"I must please ask you to take that seriously," Shinobu implores her.

"Ahah, apologies for my informalities. My name is Arata Fumiko, and that stupid old man is Yamashita Hayashi. I'm the landlord around here," Fumiko introduced herself.

But that last sentence piqued the interests of both Giyuu and Shinobu—since they were in dire need of a roof over their heads.

"Ah, it's okay. My name is Kocho Shinobu and this here is Tomioka Giyuu. You mentioned that you are the landlady for this surrounding locality?" Shinobu queries.

"I indeed am, why do you ask? You need a place to stay overnight?" she asks.

"Actually, yes, we've spent most of the day searching for one. Do you happen to have an opening?" Shinobu replies.

"Hmmm...." Fumiko allocated time to ponder the given question before speaking, "well, I would say no... But I do have one opening, though it's not one of my usual rooms—this room used to be owned by a permanent guest before he moved out. So, you won't be getting a hotel room or anything, but I believe it will suffice."

"Great! We'll take two!" Shinobu exclaimed.

The two Hashiras could now take out a big sigh of relief. Hours of travel, followed by meticulous foraging for a place to stay had engrossed all forms of lassitude upon them both physically and mentally. Weariness and the desire for at least a few hours of sleep and encroached upon their cognitive functions to such a degree that it was the only item available within the far reaches of their consciousness.

However, they were in for a surprise.

"Two? I don't think you heard me back there, I said ONE opening," Fumiko clarifies.

Shinobu's face remained stale, but Giyuu was—surprisingly—the first to react, "Could you please repeat that?"

"Huh, I didn't think it would be a problem for you love birds... But yeah, I only have one room available," she expounds.

A few seconds of stillness passed as the rattling of the wind and the distant activities within the large city miles away were the only conceivable sounds able to break through this quiescent atmosphere that engulfed and encompassed the ambiance and thought processes of all who partook in this exchange of words.

Finally, Shinobu, still smiling, procured the proper and appropriate reaction one should expect when confronted with such unbelievable and unmitigated developments:

".............. Eh?"