CHAPTER FIVE: FITTING CAGE

❝ Wear their crown, sit on their throne. ❞

"𝖄𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 person is." The man towered over her, his gaze sharp enough to cut through her. Yet, (name) maintained her calm smile, unshaken.

His confusion grew as he observed the two of them, discomfort evident on his face.

"Wow, who is this person?" he asked, his voice betraying his uncertainty. "You two look... a lot—"

He paused and sniffed the air.

His eyes widened with realization.

In an instant—Swing!

A sword came down toward her head, but (name) swiftly tilted her head to the side, narrowly avoiding it, her hair brushing against the blade and shielding her face.

She glanced at the sword and then met his eyes.

"Uzui?" Shinobu murmured, her voice barely audible.

The man huffed, his glare colder and sharper than his sword. "Why do you smell like blood?"

Shinobu turned to (name), her stance shifting slightly as she subtly prepared herself—an automatic reaction, though she hadn't fully expected this.

(name), unfazed by the sudden tension, sighed, still wearing that ever-present smile. She had only intended to connect with them and possibly find the person with the demon sister. But, she thought, maybe this was just another step in the adventure.

"Oh... Do I...?" (name) scratched her head nervously, trying to sound casual. "Don't be alarmed! It took me quite some time to get here, and I had to grab a few chickens along the way to keep myself... comfortable. Or maybe those chickens were yours..."

She laughed lightly, though it came out more awkwardly than reassuring.

"There were dozens of them, so it's probably likely..." she trailed off, hoping her explanation would sound believable.

"No, we don't have chickens," Uzui replied flatly, unsheathing his sword with lightning speed and then resheathing it with a resigned sigh. "What's her purpose here, Shinobu? Is she from one of the families?"

"She mentioned wanting to learn more about our work here," Shinobu replied, though her gaze remained scrutinizing. Despite her calm demeanor, she was sizing (name) up, and only Himura could detect it.

"An interview--!" (name) smiled sheepishly, her cheeks puffing up as she grinned. "An interview? I'm an author, and I want to know all about your work! See, I've published a few books, but I want to step it up a notch."

The two Hashiras exchanged a pointed glance, their heads turning slightly as if engaging in a silent conversation. Shinobu's smile faltered, growing colder.

Shinobu finally spoke, her voice steady. "Do you know the 'boy' who brought you here?"

"No, I just asked for directions..." (name) scratched her jaw, her suspicions confirmed. They were already questioning her intentions.

Uzui's eyes sharpened, and he adjusted the blade resting on his shoulder. Despite its size, the ease with which he handled it suggested it was far lighter to him than it would be for an ordinary person.

"If we suspected you to be a demon, you'd be dead already," he said, his voice cold. "My blade would be at your neck, and we wouldn't want that. It wouldn't be... flamboyant."

"B-But I'm not...?" (name) stammered, her nervousness slipping through.

"And about demons! You've fought some of the strongest ones, right? Especially one of the Twelve Kizuki? Can you tell me about your experiences? Your scars, emotions, opinions, terrifying encounters—"

"Enough," Uzui interrupted, clearly exhausted. He scratched his head, and Shinobu patted his shoulder gently, trying to ease his irritation.

The two Hashiras turned toward each other, then back to (name), their eyes sharp with suspicion.

They don't trust me at all, (name) thought, her own sweat starting to bead on her forehead.

The sound of birds flying overhead, their wings rustling in the wind, was the only noise that broke the stillness, followed by a loud "caw!" as they settled near the bamboo design, their owner not far behind.

Shinobu finally broke the silence, her expression unreadable. "I apologize, but now that you know our base, it's impossible to let you leave without interviewing you."

"Base?" (name) asked, her confusion evident.

"This..." Uzui extended his hand briefly, before dropping it back to his side with a sour look, as though showing something to Shinobu. "This place isn't worth my time."

Shinobu nodded, her gaze still focused on (name), but the tension between them remained palpable.

Shinobu took a moment to scrutinize (name) again. She appeared ordinary, but Shinobu knew there was something about her—something hidden behind her calm demeanor. (name) couldn't harm Ubuyashiki, not with her outward appearance. However, her intentions were unclear, and that uncertainty was what made Shinobu and Uzui wary of her presence.

"Come with us," Shinobu finally said, her voice laced with a mix of command and curiosity.

(name) simply smiled and followed them, unfazed by the tension in the air, as if it didn't bother her in the least.

As they entered the Ubuyashiki estate, (name) couldn't help but feel a sense of awe. The scenery was unlike anything she'd seen before—peaceful, calming, yet the dim light that seeped in from within barely illuminated the space. But with her training under the moonlight, she had learned to adjust to low visibility. She managed to keep pace with Shinobu and Uzui, though they likely underestimated her abilities, thinking she was far below their level.

(name) could hardly blame them. She did, after all, look like a wolf in sheep's clothing.

When they arrived at the door, Shinobu knocked. It slid open to reveal two people, both shorter than (name), which struck her as odd. The children standing before her seemed out of place, their presence in this serious environment raising a quiet question in her mind. She couldn't shake the thought of the children who kept appearing in her view.

"Pardon our intrusion, but we came with important news," Uzui said, his tone formal yet casual.

"We know he may be resting, but this cannot wait," Shinobu added.

The twins before her looked like a living embodiment of the yin and yang symbol, their features balanced and harmonious. But (name) wasn't fooled. She could clearly see the resemblance between the girl and a boy—likely Ubuyashiki's children. The boy had disguised himself well, hiding his masculinity in a way that could only be intentional. And she knew the reason why they'd done that.

The twins' eyes, though identical, reminded her of the color of wisteria. The same familiar hue she'd seen in their mother's eyes.

"Please be patient," the girl said, her voice soft yet assertive. "We will call him shortly."

Uzui grabbed (name) by the collar and moved her away from the entrance, pushing her gently but firmly onto the rocky pebbles beneath her feet.

The door opened again, this time to reveal an adult Ubuyashiki. His appearance was calm, yet his eyes twinkled with an interest that didn't go unnoticed by (name). She had been expecting someone important, but there was a sense of familiarity in his expression that she couldn't place.

"Sir," the two Hashiras greeted, bowing respectfully as (name) followed suit.

"This is a surprise," Ubuyashiki responded, his voice laced with a mix of curiosity and amusement.

"We apologize for interrupting your rest," Shinobu added, her voice softening.

"No need to apologize," he replied, his gaze shifting to (name). "And who is this?"

"My name is (name) (last name), at your service, sir," she said with a smile, bowing slightly.

Ubuyashiki's figure flinched ever so slightly at the sound of her voice, though he tried to mask it. It was a subtle reaction, one (name) noted, but he quickly regained his composure.

"She's said to be a writer, interested in our work. Possibly for reference material," Shinobu explained, her voice steady.

"But we're wondering how she found our most important base," she added, her tone sharpening just a fraction.

(name) remained quiet, her smile still in place as the scrutiny from both Hashiras and Ubuyashiki deepened.

"I see."

No, you don't, (name) thought irritably.

"Tamayo sent me, Ubuyashiki-san," she added, her voice calm, but with an edge that didn't go unnoticed.

Their eyes shot to her, wide with surprise.

"How dare you speak to Ubuyashiki-sama like that, you unflamboyant--!" Uzui's voice broke off as he tried to contain his shock, but was cut short.

Why?

The one with power, Ubuyashiki, raised his hand, signaling for silence. A moment of command passed.

Pawn, I see. (name) mused inwardly.

"Let us talk in private," Ubuyashiki said, his tone authoritative, leaving no room for objection.

The Hashiras froze at his words, their tension palpable.

"But sir—" Shinobu started, but Ubuyashiki's sharp look cut her off.

"I will be fine," he insisted.

He turned to (name) and nodded, walking toward his humble abode with a calm demeanor, while the two Hashiras lingered, unsure of what to do next. Shinobu simply walked away, composed, like a soldier on a mission. Uzui, however, approached (name) with a cold, predatory gaze.

"Do anything funny, and you'll be digging your own grave," he threatened, his fingers tightening on her kimono collar before releasing her and walking off with a final, dismissive gesture. He probably wouldn't be far, but it was clear he didn't trust her.

Once they were out of the room, (name) allowed a wide, Cheshire-like grin to spread across her face.

The atmosphere in the inner house was thick with the fragrance of wisteria, stronger than it had been outside. She could almost taste it in the air, enveloping everything.

"Have you visited Tamayo while I was gone?" (name) asked, her voice low as she observed the candle's flame flicker and dance, casting elongated shadows that shifted in sync.

Before her stood Ubuyashiki, calm, unbothered by her presence yet knowing exactly what she sought.

"I haven't. Things have been steady. Nothing's changed," he replied, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"I can see that," (name) sighed, a trace of disappointment crossing her features. "It's a pity, though. I take no sides."

"I know that," Ubuyashiki responded, his voice thoughtful. "But why? Why not take the light?"

"The light is not what it seems," (name) said cryptically, her eyes sharpening as she continued, "The darkness may cover the truth, but the light is blinding."

"Aren't you a fan of the truth?" he asked, his expression unreadable.

"This conversation sickens me, you know that?" (name) snapped, her head whipping toward him with a look of irritation, but there was something almost playful in her devilish smile. "You're getting old, I can sense it. The words spilling out of your mouth show it. You're becoming close-minded, just like the old geezers who only spew their own opinions, thinking the world revolves around them. Only their benefits matter."

She stepped closer to him, her presence commanding, yet her tone softening with each word. Ubuyashiki, despite his seemingly ageless appearance, seemed smaller now in her gaze. His pale skin and smooth features remained, but his eyes—those eyes that had seen generations of demon slayers—had grown soft and weary.

"But you would know about being selfish, right, brother?" she murmured, her voice dripping with mock sweetness as she leaned in, her gaze locking onto his.

It was undeniable— (name) had cast aside all her masks, leaving only her true self exposed.

But she stepped back for a moment, the silence enveloping her. The shadow held its breath, but so did the light. They always followed each other, after all. One couldn't move without the other.

She wished she could capture every breath she exhaled. It was beyond her control, something uncharacteristic of her nature. She wanted to slap herself, to rid herself of this vulnerability.

Her world felt like it was caving in, and all she could see was red. This was one of those moments where her instinct had let it happen.

She hated feeling vulnerable. And because of that old man, she couldn't maintain her usual composure.

"I understand what you mean," Ubuyashiki said. "But will it benefit you to keep walking on such a thin line?"

"There's an infinite line between good and bad," (name) replied, her tone sharp. "But between imagination and reality? There's logic. That's the real deal. Even though I'm a ghoul, I'm still bound by reality. And reality—what will be, will always be." She paused, smirking slightly. "Que sera sera, brother. So don't feed me that good and bad nonsense. We're all the same. You should know that by now."

Her smile remained, but inside, the years weighed heavily on her. It had been so long since she'd seen him, and now, looking at him, she saw the change—his eyes were paler, his bone structure more refined. To think that this man was younger than her was almost unfathomable.

(name) fell into silence, then snapped out of it. "What is it to you?"

Ubuyashiki continued, his voice steady. "What's your reason for being here? I assume you didn't come just to visit."

"I came to find the whereabouts of a demon slayer with a demon sister," (name) raised an eyebrow. "Did you let them live?"

"I trust them."

"Interesting," she nodded. "Then will you tell me where they are?"

"Depends on your intention."

"Didn't you say I'm an old friend?" (name) pressed. "What's different now? Was that all a lie?"

His eyes reflected the shadows in the background, but his response came quickly, without hesitation. "He's currently with the Flame Hashira."

That was all she needed to hear.

She recognized the careful, measured answers. Ubuyashiki's patience was unnerving, and she couldn't understand how he held onto it. But to her, breaking it was a tempting challenge. The problem was, he was aware of that too.

(name) stood up, preparing to leave, but just before she did, Ubuyashiki spoke again.

"You're not all gone. Stop convincing yourself otherwise."

The door opened to reveal Uzui, who was already waiting outside. His arms were crossed, and his eyes held a judgmental gleam. Shinobu was nowhere to be found. (name)'s gaze shifted back to his, soft yet knowing.

Uzui stepped closer, still with his arms crossed. "What did you two talk about?"

"That depends on Ubuyashiki-san," (name) replied smoothly. "If he wants to keep it private or not. By the way, my name is Sen Takatsuki. Nice to meet you. You are quite the bedazzling fellow."

"Tengen Uzui," he said, his tone stern, but he accepted her handshake. "You're not exactly flamboyant, but I assume you and Master have met before. I look forward to being acquainted."

"Oh?" (name) asked with a playful smile, her amusement almost slipping through. "And why do you assume that?"

Uzui paused, thinking for a moment. "I could tell by the way Master flinched when he heard your voice."

"Well, seen," (name) replied, noting his sharpness. Not a dumbass after all, she thought. Although he seemed all vanity, without much depth.

She glanced around the area, considering her next words. "Say, do you know where that pretty girl ran off to?"

"Oh, Shinobu? She's probably off to tend to the sick," Uzui said, pointing over his shoulder, likely toward her clinic. (name)'s curiosity was piqued, and she wondered if walking in that direction would eventually lead her there.

"I would've loved to spend the morning talking with her about my interests," (name) mused aloud. "I'm sure she would've entertained me with stories from her time as a demon slayer. It's rare to see a girl on the front lines these days..."

(name)'s smile remained steady, but inwardly, she felt the walls of her composure begin to shift. There was something deeply unsettling about the sharpness in Tengen's eyes when the crow landed on his shoulder. That darkened aura—so familiar, yet foreign—stirred something inside her, like a long-buried memory rising to the surface.

The old pain. The brightness of a smile that's now long extinguished.

She couldn't help but think, Ubuyashiki was wrong about me. There was more to her story than he could see.

Tengen's quip about Shinobu sparked a mischievous grin, but it was fleeting. What had been lighthearted banter in the moment suddenly felt hollow, a brief distraction from the weight of her thoughts. When he spoke of his wives, the shift in his demeanor didn't go unnoticed. (name) watched him leave with a certain heaviness in her chest, and her eyes followed him until he disappeared from view. She wasn't sure why she felt so affected, but the knowledge of Tengen's loss was like an unexpected blow.

She murmured her condolences softly, though she knew it wasn't for her to speak of. And with that, she made her way out of the wisteria-filled path, a quiet hum in her throat. She had been lingering long enough; there were other matters at hand.

To reveal herself as a ghoul...

Her mind lingered on that thought as she walked, the words haunting her. It was not the right time, nor the right place. And the people here—despite the brightness they were still learning to navigate—were not ready for such truths.

Her gaze shifted to the home of Rengoku. The fire Hashira. A bitter sigh escaped her lips. She'd known of his fate, of the storms he'd weathered. And as much as she had wished he'd moved forward, she knew that in some ways, he hadn't. Not completely. She was here now, and it was a time for her to reckon with her past.

(name) entered the home of Rengoku, the familiar sound of her slippers clicking against the wooden floor. She knocked on the door, and waited.

The door opened to reveal the man she had expected. And there, in his eyes, was that unmistakable sorrow—the weight of a flame that had dimmed, but still clung to life.

"Why are you here? Are you just going to spit on my flame?" he asked, his voice rough, tinged with anger, pain, and something else she couldn't quite place.

"No, but honestly, you need to take a bath," (name) said with a playful smile, though the words carried a weight that mirrored his pain.

She watched as the recognition slowly clicked into place on his face, the moment stretching between them. His eyes widened, and for just a second, he looked like he had seen a ghost. (name)'s chuckle was soft, almost gentle. It wasn't the reaction she had been expecting, but it amused her nonetheless. His hair, the color of fire, caught her attention, but it was his wife's eyes that held her captive—the wisdom, the stubbornness. She wondered if he'd once held that same fire.

"Yutsuko?" he asked, disbelief still in his voice.

"You know it," she replied, her voice low, steady.

The silence that followed stretched thick between them. (name)'s watched as he processed, then turned and walked away, clearly no longer interested in holding the facade. "Come in," he finally said, his voice resigned.

(name) stepped inside, but her heart wasn't light. There was still a story to unravel here—her story, his, and the tangled threads that connected them all.

The quiet murmuring grew louder, snapping both (name) and Shinjuro from their intense exchange. (name)'s smile remained, but the tension in the room was palpable, thick with the unspoken history between them. The air between her and Shinjuro crackled with a strange mixture of old animosities and forgotten bonds—together, yet distant, much like the flames that had burned so brightly before dying out.

Shinjuro grunted, shifting uncomfortably as he set his sake down with a thud. The relaxed, almost careless demeanor he had carried with him moments before seemed to fall away. His gaze, sharp and laced with bitterness, drifted toward the door.

"You haven't changed a bit," he muttered under his breath, more to himself than to her.

(name) didn't respond immediately. She had never expected him to change. He was always the one clinging to his past, his grief—a self-imposed prison built of regrets and sorrow. It was a fitting cage for someone so set on destruction. But the hint of vulnerability beneath his defiance hadn't gone unnoticed. And maybe, just maybe, that was the piece she needed.

As the murmurs outside grew clearer, she felt an inexplicable tug in her chest. Is it them? she thought, her mind wandering back to the news she had heard—a demon slayer and his sister, a bloodied pair against the chaos of their world. But her presence here was more than curiosity. It always had been.

She stepped closer to Shinjuro, her voice low but laced with that knowing edge. "You know, Shinjuro," she began, her red eyes glinting, "you can only hide for so long. No matter how much you drown yourself in the bottle or the past. The truth is—it's always waiting for you. And one day, you're going to have to face it."

His grip on the sake tightened, the bottle creaking under the pressure. But he said nothing. His silence was his answer.

(name) didn't push further. She knew the weight of silence better than most, understood how it could settle like an unwelcome guest, lingering until it became unbearable.

Finally, after a moment of quiet reflection, she broke the stillness with a nonchalant shrug. "But I didn't come here to lecture you on life, Shinjuro. I'm here for a different reason. Kyojuro's death isn't just a passing thought for me. It's something that ties us together, whether you like it or not." Her voice softened, though it still carried an edge. "His legacy isn't just in his flames; it's in the choices we make after he's gone."

The tension in the room seemed to shift, but just as quickly, the distant voices outside grew louder. Someone was approaching, footsteps hurried against the ground, bringing with them a sense of urgency.

Shinjuro snapped out of his stupor, his eyes flickering toward the door. "Seems like we have company," he muttered, standing up abruptly. His hands were no longer steady, and his posture was that of a man torn between action and apathy.

(name) didn't move. She simply stood there, watching the man who had once been her ally—her adversary. The dark energy around her seemed to pulse and ebb with the shifting emotions in the room, a silent reminder of her true nature.

"Just don't make this a waste of my time," she said, her voice sharp and decisive as she stared at the door. The murmuring grew louder still, and the air around them seemed to thicken with anticipation.

"Come on then," Shinjuro growled. "Let's see who it is."

As they moved toward the door, (name)'s eyes glinted with something darker, something sharper. Whoever was on the other side of that door might just become the next piece in her grand scheme. And this time, no one would stop her.