Rustle.
When the eyes are closed, the world reveals itself through sound. Every whisper of wind and snap of a dry leaf echoed in Yoizumi's ears with agonizing clarity. He could feel the poison—liquid death—surging through his veins, claiming his body inch by inch. Crimson stained his lips, yet despite the lethal nature of the toxin, there was no pain.
He lay there in the silence, golden hair dancing across his forehead in the breeze, hands folded peacefully over his stomach. He looked like a soul at rest; had it not been for the grisly wound in his chest, one might have thought he was merely sleeping.
Time lost its meaning.
Then, Yoizumi's eyes snapped open. He was back in the dilapidated shack. Sitting up, he pulled aside his tattered grey kimono. The puncture wound over his heart had vanished. Even the burning tingle of the poison was gone.
"?"
The memory of that blade remained vivid. The pain of the strike had carried a searing quality, like a concentrated burst of the sun's fire—entirely different from the dull ache of a stone's scratch. If Shinobu Kocho is a professional hunter of demons, he realized, then her blade must be special. Perhaps only the sun and those specific steel edges could truly grant a demon the mercy of death.
He was a creature that could not die.
A flicker of bewilderment crossed his usually vacant expression. He had resolved to die, yet death had rejected him. What now? Should he remain here and wait for the dawn to incinerate him?
No. A deep, subconscious instinct clawed at his mind, telling him he couldn't end here. There was someone he had to find.
But who?
He looked up at the moon. The night was still young. He decided to walk.
Choosing a path at random, Yoizumi began to follow it toward the horizon. The forest was dense and oppressive, but through his demonic eyes, the pitch-black woods were as clear as day.
Eventually, the trees gave way to a vast, open clearing—a sea of flowers swaying under the stars. Even in the dead of night, butterflies lingered here. Yoizumi extended a single finger, and a beautiful purple butterfly descended, resting upon his tip.
She is so much like that girl, Shinobu Kocho, he thought.
Just as he found himself mesmerized by the delicate wings, a piercing scream shattered the tranquility of the night. The birds took flight in a frantic blur; the butterfly vanished. Yoizumi turned toward the source of the cry and, after a moment's hesitation, moved toward the sound.
Back at the Butterfly Mansion, a young girl with black hair tied in twin tails and sharp blue eyes rushed to the entrance.
"Shinobu-sama, welcome back. Thank you for your hard work on the mission," Aoi Kanzaki said, bowing.
Shinobu nodded gracefully. "You've worked hard as well, Aoi."
"It's nothing! I'm only doing what I can. It's... it's all I'm capable of," Aoi replied, her head drooping slightly. Her parents had been slaughtered by demons, leading her to join the Demon Slayer Corps. But after passing the Final Selection, the paralyzing fear of death had anchored her to the safety of the Butterfly Mansion.
"Aoi, don't speak like that," Shinobu said, her voice a soothing balm. "The Butterfly Mansion runs smoothly because of your help. You are doing a wonderful job."
"Shinobu-sama... I will keep trying my best!"
"My, my. But don't overdo it. You need to rest too."
"Yes, Shinobu-sama."
Retiring to her private quarters, Shinobu knelt at her desk. The image of the golden-haired, blue-eyed boy who had accepted his death without a fight flickered in her mind. She let out a long, weary sigh.
"Sister... I just can't do it. Perhaps Mr. Yoizumi was the kind of demon you said we could get along with, but..."
She gripped her butterfly-patterned haori, the veins on her forehead bulging with suppressed emotion.
"The moment I think of those wretched creatures, I can't stay calm. Am I still so immature, Sister?"
"Deep breaths... I must stay focused."
She closed her eyes, regulating her breathing until her heart rate settled. Suddenly, a black Kasugai Crow cut through the night, landing on a branch outside her window. It opened its beak and shrieked.
"CAW! MOUNTAIN FOREST TO THE EAST! DEMON SIGHTING! DEPART IMMEDIATELY!"
A new mission. Shinobu opened her eyes and reached for her Nichirin Blade. She slipped out of the room, her footsteps light and ethereal as she raced toward the eastern woods, her crow, En, guiding the way from above.
As Yoizumi approached the source of the scream, a scent began to waft through the air. It was a fragrance so rich and intoxicating that it grew stronger with every step. He hadn't eaten since he first "awoke." Though a persistent hollowness lived in his gut, he had felt no desire for food—until now. The scent made his mouth water involuntarily.
He reached a small clearing and saw them.
It was a demon—tall, with ash-white skin and a single ivory horn protruding from its forehead. It held a woman by the throat. Yoizumi realized instantly that the heavenly scent was coming from her. He felt a wave of dizziness wash over him.
The demon hadn't noticed him yet. It was too preoccupied with the woman, looking at the gashes on her skin with greedy eyes.
"What a waste," the demon hissed. "So much blood spilled on the ground. But to stumble upon a Marechi... what incredible luck!"
The monster's mouth split into a grotesque, jagged grin, and its grip tightened, causing the woman to let out a strangled wail.
"Devouring a single Rare Blood is worth fifty ordinary humans. Just the scent of this blood is making me drunk..."
The demon dragged a sharp claw across the woman's arm. Saliva dripped from its jaws. It lunged to take the first bite—but its teeth snapped on empty air.
Blinking at its empty palm, the demon roared in a fury. "Who is it?! Who dares steal my food?!"
It spun around to see Yoizumi standing a short distance away, the unconscious woman cradled in his arms. The demon's face contorted into a mask of rage.
"You little brat! You think you can snatch a meal from my plate? You're tired of living, aren't you?!"
The demon lunged, its razor-sharp claws aimed directly at Yoizumi's face. Yoizumi leaped backward, dodging the strike with ease. He looked down at the woman in his arms, his eyes fixed on the crimson flow from her wounded arm.
Eat her. Eat her now! a voice screamed in his head.
His hand moved of its own accord, lifting the woman's bleeding arm toward his face. His jaw began to unhinge.
"That's wonderful! Our Yoizumi is so amazing!"
A gentle woman's voice rang out in his mind, sudden and clear. Yoizumi froze.
"Don't you think... I'm doing something wrong?" his inner child whispered.
"How could I? You haven't done anything wrong, Yoizumi. Quite the opposite—you're protecting someone, aren't you? You're a hero!"
"What is a hero?"
A woman whose face remained a soft blur smiled down at him, her hand reaching out to stroke his hair with infinite tenderness.
"A hero is someone who risks everything to protect others. I hope you can become someone like that, Yoizumi. But... you must cherish yourself, too. If you get hurt, I'll be very sad."
Was this his memory? Who was she?
The sound of that voice acted like cold water on a fever. The fog of hunger lifted. He looked at the woman in his arms—if he had been a second later, he would have become the very monster Shinobu Kocho despised.
Can I be a hero? he wondered. I don't know. But at the very least, I won't be an ugly monster.
He lowered the woman gently onto the grass.
The single-horned demon was charging again, screaming, "That's my prey, you brat!"
Yoizumi reached down and gripped a thick, heavy wooden branch from the forest floor. He didn't know if he could win, but he knew one thing for certain.
"I have to protect people."