The next few days at the base carried a strange sort of quiet.
Tomioka Giyu spent most of his time training in the courtyard.
During the day, he practiced Water Breathing. By dusk, he would stand alone before the sunset, repeating the basic movements of Hinokami Kagura.
His progress was fast. Though he still couldn't summon that golden blade glow like the original Sun Breathing, his movements had become smoother, and his breathing rhythm was starting to feel right.
Kocho Shinobu stayed indoors—changing Suzuki Jiro's bandages, reading by the window, or sometimes grinding herbs for medicine.
She didn't talk much, and Giyu wasn't the talkative type either. The two of them existed in a kind of peaceful, wordless coexistence.
There was always a distance between them.
When Giyu returned from training, he would find a cup of warm water waiting on the table.
When Shinobu looked up from her book, she would notice that the snow in the courtyard had already been swept clean—without ever seeing him do it.
They rarely met each other's eyes, and their conversations were short—simple words like "The medicine's ready" or "Thank you." Yet somehow, an unspoken understanding began to take root between them.
Shinobu could sense Giyu's gentleness—not deliberate or charming, but clumsy, hidden in small details.
When she was grinding herbs, he would quietly block the draft from the window.
When she was reading, he would lower the noise of his sword practice.
Those small gestures made her realize that the cold, stoic Water Hashira wasn't as unreachable as she'd thought.
That afternoon, Shinobu lifted a bamboo basket.
"I'm going to the back mountain to gather herbs. Suzuki-kun's bandages need changing," she said to Giyu, who was polishing his Nichirin Sword.
"I'll go with you," Giyu said, setting the sword aside and standing up.
"No need, Tomioka-sama."
Shinobu shook her head. "The mountain's not far. I'll be back soon. It's just a few common herbs—nothing dangerous."
She waved the small trowel in her hand with a faint smile. "I have tools. If anything happens, I can handle it."
Giyu looked at her, wanting to argue, but she had already opened the door. Turning back, she waved lightly. "I'll be back soon!"
The door closed softly, leaving him standing alone in the quiet room.
He frowned slightly. Something uneasy stirred in his chest, but he sat down again and continued polishing the blade.
The path up the back mountain wasn't difficult, though the snow hadn't completely melted and some spots were slippery.
Shinobu walked carefully, eyes scanning the undergrowth for the herbs she needed.
Her movements were practiced—it was clear she'd done this often.
As she bent down to pick a violet-colored herb, a low, mocking laugh came from behind her.
"Oh my, what's a cute little girl like you doing out here all alone? Aren't you afraid of running into bad people?"
Shinobu's body froze. She spun around.
A man stood not far behind her, dressed in a tattered kimono. His skin was pale, his eyes gleaming red with hunger and lust.
A demon!
Her heart jumped violently. She gripped the small trowel tighter.
It looked like an ordinary stray demon—nothing special—but the malice radiating from him was enough to chill her to the bone.
"Don't come any closer!"
Her voice trembled slightly, though she forced herself to stay calm.
She'd learned the basics of breathing techniques but had almost no combat experience. Worse, she didn't have a Nichirin Sword—only a tool for digging herbs.
"Hehehe…"
The demon grinned and stepped forward slowly.
"Don't be scared, pretty girl. Come with me, and I'll make sure you're… well taken care of."
His greedy gaze slid over her from head to toe, disgusting and vile.
Shinobu knew she wasn't a match for him. She turned and ran.
Her breathing instantly shifted into basic rhythmic breathing, lightening her steps—but the demon was faster.
Within a few strides, he was behind her, deliberately keeping his distance, laughing mockingly.
"Go on, keep running… Let's see how far you get."
"Your scent must be sweet… much better than those rotten old men I ate before."
His filthy words struck at her nerves like a whip.
Her stamina was draining fast, her breathing breaking apart. The snow grew deeper underfoot, slowing her even more.
Fear surged like a wave, nearly drowning her thoughts.
She wasn't afraid of pain, or exhaustion, or grueling training—but this… this naked, disgusting malice left her trembling with helpless dread.
Just as her foot slipped and she nearly fell, the demon lunged, clawed hand reaching toward her back.
"Got you!"
Shinobu shut her eyes in despair.
But the pain never came.
Instead, there was the sharp ring of a blade—and the demon's terrified scream.
"Water Breathing, First Form: Water Surface Slash!"
The low, familiar voice cut through the wind—cold, composed, filled with killing intent.
Shinobu's eyes flew open.
Tomioka Giyu stood behind her, his dark-blue haori rippling in the wind, his Nichirin Sword stained black with demon blood.
The demon lay in the snow, its head severed, its eyes frozen wide in disbelief and fear.
All the strength drained from Shinobu's body. Her knees gave way.
Giyu stepped forward quickly, hand outstretched to catch her—
But froze halfway.
Instead of taking his hand, Shinobu suddenly threw herself against him, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist.
Her face buried in his chest, her shoulders trembled violently as muffled sobs escaped between broken breaths.
"Uu… I was so scared… really scared… Thank you… thank you for coming…"
Her voice was thick with tears—part relief, part terror, all real.
Giyu went rigid, arms suspended awkwardly in the air.
The girl in his arms was light, trembling, fragile—like something that could shatter if he moved even slightly.
The faint floral scent from her hair lingered at the tip of his nose, mixed with a trace of sweat and the chill of snow.
He had never been this close to anyone before—especially not to a girl.
But as he looked at Kocho Shinobu trembling in his arms, the awkwardness inside him slowly gave way to something else—something he couldn't quite name.
After a brief hesitation, Giyu slowly raised his hand and placed it gently on her head, patting it in a stiff, unsure motion.
"It's over," he said softly. "You're safe now."
Shinobu cried for a while, her shaking gradually calming as the fear ebbed away.
Only then did she realize what she was doing.
She was holding Tomioka Giyu—the quiet, stoic Water Hashira—tightly in her arms.
His chest was firm, his heartbeat steady even through the layers of cloth.
His hand still rested awkwardly on her head, the touch clumsy but oddly comforting.
Heat rushed to her face so fast it burned.
She pulled away like she'd been shocked, jumping back two steps. Her head hung low, fingers twisting at the edge of her clothes, her ears red enough to drip blood.
"S-sorry! Tomioka-sama! I… I didn't mean to—"
Her words stumbled over each other, her heart pounding as she wished she could disappear into the ground.
She had just been so scared—her mind went blank and she'd acted without thinking.
Giyu watched her flustered expression, and the stiffness in his chest melted a little.
He lowered his hand back into his sleeve, face calm as ever, though his ears felt slightly warm.
"It's fine," he said, keeping his tone as steady as possible. "I'm just glad you're alright."
Silence fell again.
Both of them kept their heads down, neither knowing what to say. Only the wind brushing through the treetops and the distant chirp of birds filled the air.
In the snow nearby, the demon's body was already rotting away—an ugly contrast to the quiet awkwardness between them.
"L-let's head back," Shinobu finally whispered, her voice small as a mosquito's.
"Yeah," Giyu replied with a nod.
They walked side by side on the path back, a not-too-close, not-too-far distance between them.
Neither spoke, and the air felt heavy with unspoken tension.
Shinobu sneaked a glance at his profile every now and then. He still looked calm and unreadable, which only made her more nervous.
Did he think she was strange? Or rude?
Giyu, meanwhile, was lost in his own thoughts.
The reason he had rushed to the mountain wasn't chance. During training, a sudden sharp unease had pierced his chest—as if he were about to lose something precious.
Without thinking, he had followed that feeling, running straight into the forest… and finding her there.
He didn't know why he could sense her danger so clearly—or why it mattered so much.
When they returned to the base, Suzuki Jiro was awake, sitting by the door in the sunlight.
The moment he saw them—Shinobu's red eyes and the blood on Giyu's clothes—he jumped up in alarm.
"Tomioka-sama! Shinobu-san! Are you both alright?"
"We're fine," Giyu said evenly.
Shinobu just shook her head, keeping quiet as she walked quickly past him into the house.
By sunset, she had finished packing her things. She walked up to Giyu, her expression composed again.
"Tomioka-sama, my work here is done. Suzuki-kun is recovering well, so I'll return to Butterfly Mansion now."
"Alright," Giyu said. "I'll walk you out."
"No need, Tomioka-sama."
She waved her hands quickly, her face heating again at the memory of that moment earlier.
"The path's easy. I know the way."
Giyu didn't press her, only nodded.
Shinobu turned toward the door, her hand pausing on the handle. After a moment of hesitation, she turned back.
The sunset light softened her features, a faint blush still on her cheeks, but her eyes steady and serious.
"Tomioka-sama," she said, "please… be careful. You're a Hashira. Many people depend on you."
Something in his chest stirred. He met her gaze and nodded. "You too. Stay safe."
Shinobu blinked in mild surprise at his reply, then smiled faintly—a small, almost invisible smile. She nodded once, opened the door, and stepped outside.
The door closed softly behind her, shutting out the light.
Giyu stood there for a while, staring at the empty doorway. His palm still seemed to remember the soft feel of her hair under his hand.
He walked to the window and watched as her figure grew smaller, disappearing down the snowy path.
That strange unease from before had faded—leaving behind something quieter, gentler, that he couldn't quite explain.
Turning away, he picked up his Nichirin Sword and stepped into the courtyard.
The sunset burned bright, stretching his shadow long across the snow.
He drew in a deep breath, settling into the stance for Water Breathing.
Training had to continue. The road to strength was still long.
Yet somewhere deep inside, something had quietly changed.