"Hiru, won't you really come back to Mount Sagiri with us?" Makomo walked down the mountain steps with his hands behind his back, tilting his head toward Hiru, who was following behind.
"Sensei would be delighted."
"No way. I have work to do. You three killed so many demons—I need to stock at least forty more here before the next assessment." Hiru waved the stack of report papers in his hand. "If you really want me to visit, just kill fewer."
"That won't do~" Makomo chuckled. "Sanemi and Kanae need to return to their trainers too, right?"
"Yes, I also want to share this good news with Teacher Mikazuki as soon as possible," Kanae smiled gently. "I'll come visit Urokodaki again later."
Hiru froze. "Hm? Mikazuki? Mikazuki Reima?"
"Hiru-kun, you know my teacher?"
"Well, we just parted ways not long ago..." Hiru nodded, rubbing his chin. "In that case, you must know that girl named Shinobu too, right?"
The smile in Kanae's eyes deepened. "Yes, she's my younger sister, two years my junior."
"If possible, please try to convince Shinobu to give up demon-slaying. I might not know any Breathing Styles, but I'm strong enough that, with a Bright Red Nichirin Sword, I can fight on par with Breathing Swordsmen," Hiru sighed. "But she's just too weak. She's eleven and still not as tall as I was at nine."
"I've tried persuading my sister too," Kanae murmured, lips tightening.
"But she always insists on fighting by my side. She secretly trains until her hands are covered in blisters, saying things like, 'I can definitely help if I just practice more.' All I want is for her to grow up safely…"
"My brother says the same thing, even though he'll never master a Breathing Style…" Sanemi's mood sank as well. He clawed at his hair in frustration.
"That stubborn little brat."
"Genya's still young. With practice, he might still make it…" Hiru folded his arms behind his head. "Look at me—I couldn't use a Breathing Style either, but I still became a Hashira, didn't I?"
"Shut up! You clueless Swordsman! Do you have any idea how much worrying an older brother has to do?!"
"Huh? What are you talking about, you bandit-faced idiot?! You think being a younger brother is easy?!"
Makomo watched the two start bickering again and couldn't help but laugh. "You two really get along well."
The worry on Kanae's face faded considerably. "Yeah, they seem like good friends."
"Next time, Kanae should bring little Shinobu to visit Mount Sagiri too. It'll be lively with everyone together."
"Sure, it's settled then. Oh, and can Tomioka-kun speak properly now?"
"Sabito's been teaching him. It seems to be working somewhat…"
The four of them chatted and joked their way down the mountain. After seeing the other three off, Hiru returned to the mountainside, picked up Hinaki and Nichika, and escorted them to the nearest Wisteria House.
"Following the Kakushi back won't be a problem, right?"
"Yes, we'll manage on our own."
"Thank you very much for taking care of us these past few days."
"Please don't worry about us."
"Please slay more demons."
"May your martial fortune flourish."*2
Hiru left, feeling uncomfortable all over.
...
The days that followed were peaceful beyond Hiru's expectations. He had assumed Muzan would use his influence to come after him, yet nothing happened. It was precisely this calm that left Hiru feeling restless.
Still, since Muzan wasn't coming for him, he was more than happy to be left alone. He returned to the area near Yoriichi's jurisdiction and immersed himself in demon-catching work.
What he didn't know was that Muzan had been entangled by another major problem and had no time to bother with him.
Muzan frowned at the young man blocking his path. "We shouldn't have any ties to each other anymore, should we?"
The youth wore a purple snake-patterned kimono. His features were handsome, and his speech was slow and measured. "Correct."
"Then what is this supposed to mean?" Muzan's pupils narrowed as he stared impatiently at the figure before him. "My mercy has limits, Kokushibo."
"I know." Kokushibo had reverted to his human form, flame-like markings crawling from his left temple down to his right neck. "I'm merely making a comparison." [Please recall Kokushibo's exasperating way of speaking.]
"Hm?"
"You needn't concern yourself," Kokushibo said, his left hand lightly stroking the scabbard. "Because as I am now, I won't be doing anything to you."
Muzan narrowed his eyes. "Are you threatening me?"
"Not at all," Kokushibo watched the bustling flow of traffic along the street, his expression calm, his thoughts unreadable. "I merely wish to see whether you will keep your promise."
"I don't recall making any promises to you."
"Is that truly what you believe?" Kokushibo's gaze shifted back to Muzan. After a moment he lowered his eyes. "…I understand."
"Then you should be leaving, shouldn't you?" Muzan's nails slowly lengthened. "Or did breaking free of my control make you think you can challenge me?"
"You are not skilled in martial arts." Kokushibo lifted his eyelids to look at Muzan again, his expression still serene. "Had I mastered the Bright Red Nichirin Sword when we first met, the result would surely have been different."
Muzan's face darkened in an instant. It was true that back then he had approached the encounter half in jest, holding back from fully demonizing himself—but he had indeed failed to bring Kokushibo down immediately.
In the end it was only when Kokushibo's stamina was exhausted that Muzan prevailed, and in the meantime he'd taken more than a few blows from the Nichirin Blade.
Precisely because of that, he had turned Kokushibo into a demon out of appreciation for his talent.
Having such a powerful subordinate should have been a delightful thing. Muzan had even helped sever the bonds that tied him to his human life.
Yet he hadn't expected that this man's two younger brothers would each prove more troublesome than the last, to the point that they had nearly cost him his life.
And the wound left by that man centuries ago still burned within him even now, forcing him to live in constant torment.
"I merely want him to witness a few things. So before that, I hope you won't interfere with me." Kokushibo turned and walked toward the crowd. "You know I simply prefer to act according to the rules. It's not that I fear crossing blades with you."
Watching Kokushibo's figure blend into the throng, Muzan's expression grew even darker.
He hadn't expected Kokushibo to still be able to locate him after returning his blood—and to have learned of his plans besides. Had he tampered with the blood he gave back?
Muzan's gaze stretched toward the distance. After a brief moment, he withdrew his eyes and stepped into the paper sliding door that had appeared abruptly behind him.
"Looks like I'll have to finish dealing with things here before I go looking for him…"