As the fireworks display came to an end, the summer festival slowly wound down. Yet the town remained crowded, bustling with people reluctant to leave.
Shinobu tugged Yōsuke's sleeve, reluctant herself.
"Master, let's come again next year, okay?"
Smiling softly, Yōsuke nodded.
"Alright."
On the road back from the town, Shinobu—ever sharp in matters of medicine—noticed a man walking ahead.
"Master, Onee-sama, look at that man!" she said, pointing.
Yōsuke and Kanae both followed her gaze. The man's figure was gaunt, his face deathly pale.
Yōsuke immediately sensed it: a faint trace of demonic aura clung to the man. So faint it could be overlooked unless one was very careful. And yet—the man was no demon.
"What is it, Shinobu?" Kanae asked, puzzled.
"His complexion suggests severe blood loss," Shinobu explained, "but I can smell a strong stench of blood. With his condition, there's no way that scent could be coming from him."
As a physician, Shinobu excelled at diagnosis. A single glance told her enough.
Yōsuke confirmed her observation.
"You're right. He's carrying human blood."
"Human blood? For what purpose?" Kanae asked, frowning.
"Most likely… to feed a demon."
Both sisters gasped.
"A human feeding a demon?!"
Yōsuke nodded gravely.
"Yes. His body carries the faint scent of a demon as well. But speculation won't help us here. Let's follow and see for ourselves."
The man slipped away from the town, moving furtively, until he entered a ruined house.
Inside, Yōsuke wrinkled his nose.
"So that's it. He's been masking the demon's presence with wisteria flowers."
At the back of the ruined house, a figure lay bound tightly in heavy chains.
"Father, I've brought blood. You don't have to starve anymore."
The man pulled a blood-filled pouch from his coat and handed it over.
But his father, now a demon devoid of reason, didn't answer. He snatched the blood greedily and drank it down with trembling hands.
The man sank to the ground, watching the pitiful figure before him with eyes full of sorrow.
"Father… today was the fireworks festival," he murmured. "It should have been a day of joy. But I committed an unforgivable sin. I ambushed a woman, cut open her wrist, and drained her blood. I didn't kill her—but still, I am guilty beyond forgiveness."
When the demon finished drinking, it howled angrily, unsatisfied by the small offering.
"You're still hungry, Father? Please endure it a little longer… I don't have much blood left to give you. Tomorrow, I'll try my luck again in town."
As he struggled to rise on unsteady legs, he noticed Yōsuke and the sisters standing silently at the doorway.
Startled, he snatched up a shovel and glared.
"Who are you people?!"
Kanae's brow furrowed.
"Your father has completely become a mindless demon. You mustn't harm the innocent any further. The kindest choice now is to end his suffering."
"Lies!" the man roared, wild-eyed. "My father isn't a demon—he's just sick! The wisteria will cure him!"
Shinobu shook her head.
"No. Wisteria is poison to demons. It cannot heal him."
The man froze—then, frenzied, tore the flowers out by the roots, throwing them aside.
"Please," Kanae begged once more. "Let go. For both you and your father, that would be the best end."
"You know nothing!" he screamed. "My father is strong. If not for him, I would have been killed by the demon that attacked our home. He saved me from its jaws! He won't become a demon—he'll recover! I won't let him die! Never!"
He swung the shovel wildly, trying to drive them out.
But Yōsuke calmly reached out and pinched the shovel in his hand. The solid iron bent and twisted under his grip.
Terrified, the man dropped it, but still forced himself to stand between them and his father.
Expressionless, Yōsuke asked,
"Your father has eaten humans, hasn't he?"
He gestured toward the weapon lying at the demon's side.
"That's a Nichirin blade—a sword used by the Demon Slayer Corps. Which means your father has killed before, and what's more… he was once a Demon Slayer himself."
The sisters looked on in shock at the bound figure.
Trained slayers didn't fall so easily. If one had been killed here, then this demon must indeed have fed on humans.
The man clenched his teeth, his voice full of hatred.
"Yes… I killed him! I begged him on my knees not to hurt my father, but he wouldn't listen. He still tried to strike him down! So while his guard was down, I crushed his skull with the shovel!"
Kanae's heart sank.
"Do you really think this is what your father would have wanted?"
"He would understand me!" the man shouted, shaking with rage.
"Then let your father tell you himself," Yōsuke said coldly.
He strode forward step by step. The man raised his fists to strike, but Yōsuke only glanced at him. Overwhelmed by the sheer pressure of his presence, the man froze as though encased in concrete, unable to move.
At last, Yōsuke stood before the chained demon. The creature trembled under the crushing aura of the Demon King.
Reaching out, Yōsuke pressed a finger to its forehead, suppressing Muzan Kibutsuji's blood within it. Slowly, the demon regained clarity.
When reason returned, the father's expression twisted in grief.
"Shōta (OC)… no more. End this. I don't want to live as a demon. I don't want to burden you any longer."
"Never!" Shōta's eyes shone with fierce resolve. "I don't care what I must do. As long as it means you can live, I'll do anything!"
"But I cannot accept that, Shōta. If I had known that saving you would lead to this, it would have been better for us both to die that night.
Shōta, I taught you once—to be kind. To treat yourself kindly, and treat others kindly. Only then will the world show you kindness in return.
Because of me, you've abandoned your kindness. I only hope… you can find it again."
The father turned to Yōsuke.
"Please… grant me release. I don't want to bear this curse any longer. I don't want to keep living as a monster."
Silently, Yōsuke picked up the fallen Nichirin blade.
With one swift stroke, the father's suffering ended. His face softened into a look of peace as his body crumbled into ash.
Shōta stood frozen, staring at the empty space where his father had been.
"Your father was a great man," Yōsuke said quietly. "He faced a demon alone to protect you. But you betrayed his sacrifice—forcing your will upon him, turning his courage into regret."
Leaving those words behind, Yōsuke turned and led the sisters out of the ruined house.
Shōta collapsed to the ground. Memories of his father's lessons and gentle guidance came rushing back, and tears spilled from his eyes.
"Father… I was wrong. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I've disgraced you!"
His gaze fell on the Nichirin blade lying nearby.
"Having taken innocent lives, I no longer deserve to live. Father… forgive me. I can only atone with my death."
Clutching the sword, he plunged it into his abdomen. As life slipped away, he looked up—and saw his father once more.
His father reached out a hand.
"Shōta… as your father, I could never condemn you. I'll walk this path with you. Come, let us atone together."
Shōta took his father's hand, a peaceful smile on his face. Side by side, father and son left the world behind.
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