"Haruki."
His name hung in the night air between them. Both seemed to be waiting for the other to speak first, and when neither did, silence settled between them. They looked at each other—two people similar in their difficulty with expressing themselves.
Haruki studied the girl before him. Something about her resonated with him. Her purple eyes held a peculiar emptiness—not absence, but loss of something that should have been there. Emotion, perhaps. Or the ability to express it.
He wanted to understand.
Making a decision that surprised him, Haruki stepped forward and sat beside her under the eaves. Kanao's expression flickered with puzzlement, but she didn't move away. The night was still long, and somewhere in his developing understanding of social interaction, Haruki had learned that sitting together made conversation easier.
"Why do you flip a coin?" he asked.
Kanao's fingers traced the coin's edge. The question pulled her into memory—to when she'd first been taken in by the Kocho sisters. Back then, she'd given her new guardians quite a headache, particularly the younger one.
"Big sis! This girl will be the death of me!" A younger, more openly emotional Shinobu practically wailed to her older sister. "She does whatever she's told, like a doll! And if you don't tell her to eat, she won't eat at all! What am I supposed to do with her?"
"Oh my, oh my~" Kanae's voice was like warm honey. Her black hair adorned with green and pink butterfly ornaments, and she wore a rainbow-colored haori. Her purple eyes gleamed with tenderness as she looked at the little girl who couldn't make decisions.
"It's alright, Shinobu. Kanao is so cute anyway, isn't she?"
"Big Sister!" Shinobu's frustration had only grown at that non-answer.
Seeing Shinobu's rising frustration, Kanae had eventually relented. If she didn't then Shinobu would have sulked till she did anyway. So she knelt before Kanao, producing a coin and speaking in that voice like warm spring sunshine.
"Kanao, when you're alone and find it too hard to decide something, you can use this coin to help you choose." She'd pressed it into Kanao's palm. "But don't rely on it too much, okay? You have to become a grown-up girl who can make her own choices too, right?"
Watching Kanao now, Haruki saw her lost in that memory. Her usually unchanging expression had softened into something approaching a smile—faint, but genuine. It was clearly a good memory, something precious. He didn't interrupt, simply waiting with the patience he'd developed over weeks of entertaining the three younger girls at the mansion.
But the memory didn't stay warm.
Her older sister had died. Severely wounded on a mission against an upper moon , she'd bled out before help could arrive. By the time reinforcements reached the location, the demon had already fled to escape the coming sunrise, leaving only Shinobu to cradle Kanae's broken body in a pool of blood that seemed to spread endlessly across the ground.
From that day forward, everything had changed. Master Shinobu had gradually transformed, taking on more and more of her older sister's mannerisms—that constant gentle smile, that particular way of speaking, even small gestures and habits. The mementos Kanae left behind weren't many: the rainbow-colored haori that Shinobu now wore, the Flower Breathing techniques recorded in careful notes, and the green and pink butterfly hair ornaments.
Her big sister had died like that, and Kanao—who owed everything to her—couldn't even cry at her grave. She'd stood there dry-eyed and numb while everyone else wept, filled with self-loathing at her own inability to properly grieve.
Her older sister had always believed humans and demons could coexist peacefully. She'd felt sympathy for demons, recognizing they'd once been human too. At the time, Kanao hadn't understood.
But now, looking at Haruki waiting patiently without judgment—perhaps this demon really was different. Perhaps her older sister had seen something Kanao was only beginning to glimpse. For that cherished ideal, maybe she should try to understand.
"Aside from direct orders," Kanao said finally, "I make all my decisions using this coin."
Haruki absorbed this, frowning slightly. Using such a method—wasn't that too hasty? What if the coin led to choices she'd regret?
But then, who was he to judge? He'd stayed in that dilapidated house for who knew how long, making no decisions at all, simply existing without direction until Shinobu had found him. He had no right to criticize someone else's method of navigating the world.
So he just said what came to his mind.
"Maybe," he said slowly, "when you grow up more, you'll be able to make your own decisions. Without the coin."
Kanao's eyes widened slightly—a significant reaction for her. He'd said almost exactly what her older sister had said. Maybe this demon, like Kanae, was a gentle person. Something in her chest loosened, just a little. She clutched the coin tighter in her hand and since the coin had already decided for her, she found herself wanting to speak more.
"When I was little," she began, her voice taking on a distant quality, "I often used to go hungry and if my parents were in bad moods beatings will follow. At that time if I cried, I'd be beaten more severely. So I learned not to cry. Not to feel."
Haruki listened intently, not interrupting. He simply sat steadfastly beside her.
"Later, my family became poor, and I was sold to human traffickers. They put me in a leash." Her voice remained steady, factual. "I didn't care anymore. I couldn't."
"But then I met Master and Big sister. They saved me—bought me from the traffickers and set me free. They gave me a name, clothes, food, and a place to belong." Little warmth entered her voice. "They're both very good people. I respect them more than anyone."
Those dark, hopeless days had been transformed by those two lights. They'd reignited her hope for life and taught her what love was.
"When my older sister was seventeen, she died in battle during a mission. Master changed after that. She became more and more like big sister—her smile, her way of speaking, everything."
Her hands tightened in her lap. "Everyone cried at big sister's grave. But I... I couldn't. No matter how much I wanted to, the tears wouldn't come. I was afraid of crying, afraid of feeling that much."
Her eyes reddened with effort, but no tears fell. "I couldn't even do that much for her."
Haruki felt something twist in his chest. Shinobu's older sister had been killed by a demon? She'd never mentioned it. So that smile, that personality—it was an imitation of someone lost. A way of keeping her sister alive.
Her closest family had been killed by a demon, yet knowing what he was, Shinobu had protected him. Had shown him kindness.
Something dark washed through him. Disgust at himself, at what he was. Why had he become a demon? Had he chosen this? Or had it been forced upon him?
Haruki looked at the night sky. The moon was covered by clouds, making everything darker. Why should demons exist at all? Creatures that could only appear in darkness, causing others to lose their families and lives. What did they see when they looked at humans?
Anger rose in his chest—sharp and hot and unusual. Why did this make him so angry when he had no memories of such loss?
He closed his eyes, forcing his breathing steady, willing the anger to settle. Getting emotional wouldn't help Kanao.
When he opened his eyes, he thought of how Shinobu had patted his head, how it had made him feel comforted. The three girls would light up with happiness when he did the same, though he didn't fully understand why.
Maybe it would help Kanao too.
Slowly, Haruki extended his right hand and gently placed it on Kanao's head, stroking her hair with uncertain movements.
Kanao startled slightly at the unexpected touch, looking up at him with wide eyes. But his clear blue eyes held something calming—no pity, no judgment, just quiet understanding. Gradually, her breathing evened out and the tension left her shoulders.
When he saw she'd relaxed, Haruki withdrew his hand.
A new piece of information filed away: patting someone's head can make them feel better. Understood.
"Thank you," Kanao said softly.
"It's truly good that I met such people," Haruki said, meaning it. "I'm truly fortunate."
"Mm." Kanao nodded, something easing in her expression. "It's truly wonderful. To have been able to meet my older sisters."
She showed her first genuine smile since they'd met—small and tentative, but real. It resembled Shinobu's smile. It seems They both learned from the same source.
Their older sister must have had such a smile too. She must have been very gentle.
That figure appearing constantly in Haruki's fragmented thoughts—that person was probably important to him too. Had someone saved him once, given him kindness when he had nothing?
Were the voices in his dreams trying to remind him not to forget?
His desire to recover his memories intensified.
"Thank you for talking with me," Haruki said.
"It's alright,"
"I should go now."
"Have a safe journey."
Haruki nodded. Although some time was delayed, Haruki was very glad to have talked with Kanao. He walked out of the Butterfly Mansion, took a few last glances at the house and then left without looking back.
It was now deep night—the time when demons emerged. Having been cared for by Butterfly Mansion for weeks, and thinking of Shinobu's exhausted face, Haruki wanted to help ease her burden as much as possible. If he could eliminate even a few demons, that would be fewer for her to hunt.
At the same time, he wanted to see if there were any other demons in the same situation as him—demons who retained their humanity, who didn't want to kill. If such demons existed, he needed to find them. He needed to know he wasn't alone in this strange existence.