At night, two figures walked slowly through the streets, their stomachs round and full after a gluttonous feast. Thus ended their first day in Asakusa.
"Yohan, there's just so much good food here," Mitsuri Kanroji sighed dreamily, rubbing her belly. Despite how full she was, she couldn't stop thinking about all the snacks she hadn't gotten to try yet.
If it weren't for Yohan tugging her back toward the inn with the excuse that it was far too late, she might've happily eaten until sunrise.
"Alright, Mitsuri," Yohan said gently. "Let's rest for tonight. We can always explore more tomorrow. Finding Tamayo isn't going to be a one-day thing anyway."
"So don't be sad, okay?" He couldn't stand the way she pouted with those teary eyes and quivering lips—it hit him right in the heart.
And just like that, he made a promise: for the next few days, he would take her sightseeing and give her as much Asakusa as she could handle.
"Yay!" Mitsuri grinned, throwing up a peace sign in triumph. Her dramatic cuteness always worked—she knew Yohan couldn't resist her. He was a total softie, and she was going to enjoy every second of it.
The two of them found a small inn to stay the night. From then on, their days were split: daylight for fun, food, and sightseeing; Nightfall for quietly combing the city in search of Tamayo. Since she was a demon, there was a better chance of tracking her down after dark.
===
"Did you find it yet?"
"Almost... just a little more."
"I'm getting closer to their scent."
In the darkness, a pale man with an eyeball embedded in his palm turned to speak to the young girl beside him. Her traditional speech and porcelain features stood in stark contrast to the malicious energy radiating from her.
The two were Susamaru and Yahaba—demons dispatched by Muzan Kibutsuji to hunt down the traitor Tamayo.
…
The days passed in a blur of laughter, neon lights, savory aromas, and hushed footsteps in moonlit alleys. Every morning, Yohan and Mitsuri wandered the vibrant streets of Asakusa—eating, shopping, and soaking in the local culture. And every evening, they searched.
They searched every quiet lane and empty corner, hoping for a sign, a trail, a whisper of the woman they were trying to find.
"Yohan, are you sure Tamayo's here in Asakusa?" Mitsuri asked, frustration creeping into her voice. "We haven't found a single trace."
"Uhh... I think so," Yohan replied, a bit sheepish. "I mean, probably."
He scratched his head. "She should be. But Tamayo has a demon companion named Yushiro. His Blood Demon Art is tied to vision—illusions, barriers. It's likely they're hiding under some kind of visual cloak. That's why we can't find them."
The truth was, even Yohan wasn't so certain anymore. Asakusa was huge. Without a concrete lead, all they could do was hope their human presence would draw Tamayo's attention… or that they'd catch her when she stepped out.
"Okay, I get it," Mitsuri said, smiling sweetly. "But in exchange, you have to keep playing with me in the mornings."
Yohan's lips twitched. At first, he thought tagging along with her would be a nice change of pace. But the sheer energy Mitsuri poured into shopping, exploring, and bouncing from place to place had worn him down quickly.
Still… he couldn't say no to her.
He nodded in surrender.
Mitsuri beamed—two more days of winning! She was just about to reward him with a kiss on the cheek when—
BOOM!
A deafening explosion split the night sky.
"Something's up!"
Yohan and Mitsuri immediately dashed toward the direction of the blast.
In that moment, deep within Asakusa, the Blood Demon Art barrier concealing Tamayo's residence collapsed. The protective charms clinging to the walls disintegrated, fluttering to the ground.
"Heehee, we've got you now," Susamaru laughed wickedly.
"Impressive work, Yahaba," she added, tossing one of her deadly temari balls into the air.
Beside her, Yahaba stood with his eyes still shut, his hand raised, the eye embedded in his palm glowing faintly.
Before them stood a house, once invisible, now surrounded by blooming cherry trees. The "fugitive" was inside.
"Allow me to celebrate our discovery," Susamaru sneered, hurling a temari at the building. It smashed into the structure like a cannonball, sending debris flying in all directions.
"Susamaru! Watch it! Don't get my clothes dirty!" Yahaba scolded.
"Tch. Clean freak," Susamaru scoffed. She caught her temari as it flew back to her hand and hurled it again with manic glee.
"Destroy it! Smash it all! This is so much fun!"
As the house caved under the barrage, two figures stepped out from the wreckage—Tamayo and Yushiro.
Susamaru grinned, eyes alight with sadistic pleasure. "So you're the 'fugitive' Master spoke of?"
"How dare you defy Master. Do you have a death wish?"
She raised her temari again, ready to strike.
"Stop!" Yahaba's voice cut through the air. "Don't forget our mission. We're to bring her back alive."
"Tch."
Reluctantly, Susamaru lowered her arm.
"Come with us quietly, 'fugitive,' or I'll drag you back in pieces," she threatened, bouncing the ball in her hands with a sharp smack.
"Lady Tamayo, please run. I'll hold them off!" Yushiro said urgently, though blood already stained his shoulder.
"No, Yushiro. You can't fight them alone."
Tamayo's voice was calm, but her eyes were sharp. She knew these two weren't ordinary demons—they were Muzan's enforcers, sent to retrieve her personally.
Yushiro might've been a demon she created herself, but he lacked the experience, the power. And escape… escape was impossible now.
They'd have to fight.
So this is it, she thought. I won't get to see Muzan's downfall with my own eyes.
But that didn't frighten her.
She had lived for over a century with the weight of her sins—turned into a demon by Muzan's deceit, driven by bloodlust, forced to slaughter her own husband and child in a frenzy she couldn't control.
She had been grieving ever since.
She didn't fear death. For her, it was part of atonement.
But Muzan Kibutsuji—the monster who ruined her life—he didn't deserve to live.
If she was going to hell… she'd make sure he burned there with her.