The setting sun spilled golden light across the forest path.
The air carried the scent of soil and fresh grass.
It should have been a pleasant journey—
if not for the heart-rending wails echoing through the woods.
"U-um… B-Boss… could you slow down a bit…?"
Zenitsu staggered along under a mountain of luggage—most of it Inosuke's.
His face was pale, his legs shaking like sieves.
"I really can't go on anymore… That boar-masked uncle might've run away, but I'm still terrified!
What if he comes back with a whole herd of real wild boars for revenge?!
Wild boars are vicious! They gore people!"
Walking at the very front, Inosuke lazily waved his green iron fan.
He didn't even bother turning his head.
"Revenge? That knockoff who tried to copy me?"
Inosuke stopped and turned around.
"And blondie—when that uncle ran away earlier, some mud splashed onto my shoe."
He pointed at the tip of his wooden sandal, where an almost invisible speck of mud clung.
"This cleaning fee, plus emotional distress damages, now get added to your tab—since we didn't catch him."
"WHAT?!"
Zenitsu's eyes nearly popped out.
"Why does that get charged to me?!
I'm not his relative!
I was scared too!
And why is there even a cleaning fee?!"
"Because you're Sidekick Number Two."
Inosuke casually held up two fingers.
"This isn't just about money.
It's about the creditor's mood.
Keep whining and I'll throw you out here to feed the wolves, then use your belongings to pay off the debt."
"WAAAAH!!
Tanjiro! Did you hear that?!
Is that even something a human would say?!"
Zenitsu clung to Tanjiro's leg, sobbing uncontrollably.
"He's a demon!
A demon wearing human skin!
I want to go home! I want my grandpa!"
Tanjiro, carrying Nezuko's box, sighed helplessly and played peacemaker, wearing an awkward but polite smile.
"Alright, alright, Zenitsu…
Inosuke-kun is just… um… very financially minded."
Tanjiro sniffed the air. With his keen sense of smell, he could detect the emotion clinging to Inosuke.
Despite all his threats, Inosuke's fan had been deliberately swatting away mosquitoes the whole time—
not a single insect had bitten Zenitsu.
"And besides…"
Tanjiro pointed ahead.
"I smell wisteria flowers. Not far now—there should be a place where we can rest."
"Wisteria?"
Inosuke's ears twitched. His absolute hearing caught the faint chime of wind bells in the distance.
"Tch. Finally here, huh?"
He snapped his fan shut and tapped it against his palm.
"That ugly crow finally told the truth.
If that place doesn't have tempura and hot baths,
I'm stewing it and feeding it to Nezuko for nutrition."
Inside the box, Nezuko seemed to hear her name.
"Mm?"
She made a small sound, as if agreeing.
"See? Even Sidekick Number Three is hungry."
Inosuke kicked Zenitsu in the butt.
"Run, blondie!
If you let my Number Three get skinny, I'll slice you up and feed you to her!"
"Noooo!
I don't taste good! I'm all fat!
And why is the thing in the box Number Three while I'm Number Two?!
Why is its rank higher than mine?!
What is that thing anyway?!"
Demon Slayer Corps Headquarters — The Butterfly Estate
Shinobu Kocho knelt at a low table, holding a report just delivered by a Kasugai Crow.
Her purple eyes—usually smiling—were stiff, a vein twitching at her temple.
"Um… Tomioka-san?"
She turned toward Giyu Tomioka, who stood silently in the corner, doing his best impression of a decorative pillar.
"..."
"Please don't ignore me," Shinobu said sweetly.
"This report says a strange new recruit appeared in the northwest.
He uses an ice-like Breathing style and carries… iron fans."
Her voice dropped noticeably colder at the words iron fans.
"I hear you've met him, Tomioka-san?
Could you describe what kind of fan it was?"
Giyu was silent for a long time. Finally, he turned his emotionless eyes toward her and spoke a single word:
"…Gold."
"Eh?"
Shinobu blinked.
"The report says green."
Giyu thought for a moment, then corrected himself.
"The fan was green.
The person was gold."
Shinobu's smile was starting to crack.
"Tomioka-san… are you speaking in riddles?
I'm asking about the fan's design—whether it showed traces of an ice-type Blood Demon Art.
This is very important."
Giyu frowned, clearly struggling to organize his thoughts.
He recalled the snowy night.
That arrogant kid.
The blizzard of ice.
Finally, he looked at Shinobu with grave seriousness and waved both hands in a messy swinging motion.
"Whoosh. Whoosh.
…Very noisy person."
Shinobu: "..."
Her teacup cracked with a sharp click.
"Tomioka-san," she said, taking a deep breath.
"Do you mean that when he swings the fan, it creates wind—and that he's very loud?"
Giyu nodded, wearing a faintly relieved expression, as if to say You finally get it.
To Shinobu, it looked suspiciously smug.
"Also," Giyu added after a pause,
"He said…"
He hesitated, as if the words were too ridiculous.
"That I'm expressionless."
Shinobu burst out laughing—this time genuinely.
"Oh my. Then he's quite perceptive."
Her gaze quickly sharpened again.
"If you won't elaborate, I'll go confirm it myself.
Hmph. Ice, fans—if he's unrelated to that demon, I'll write my name backwards."
Giyu watched her storm off, baffled.
He thought he'd explained things pretty clearly.
That boy's techniques were strange, yes—but he was human.
A loud, money-loving human.
Why did Shinobu look even angrier now?
"…I wasn't disliked."
Giyu muttered quietly as he turned and left the Butterfly Estate, stepping past a shattered teacup.
Eternal Paradise Cult — Rear Mountain Villa
Kotoha sat beneath the corridor, needle and thread in hand, sewing a slightly oversized haori.
It was winter clothing for Inosuke.
She knew he had a miraculous constitution and didn't fear the cold, but to a mother, there's always a cold called "Mom thinks you're cold."
"Kotoha-chan~"
A syrupy voice rang out.
Like an affectionate giant cat, Doma hung upside down from the ceiling without a sound.
His beautiful face dangled right in front of her, long icy hair brushing her nose.
"Making clothes for our Inosuke again?"
He flipped down gracefully, resting his chin on her shoulder and wrapping his arms around her waist, his tone tinged with playful jealousy.
"So unfair.
I want clothes made by Kotoha-chan too.
I'm sick of this Cult Leader outfit.
I want to wear something like Inosuke's—
matching parent-child outfits."
Kotoha, long used to his sudden closeness, smiled gently.
"You're much taller, my lord. There isn't enough fabric."
Her needle never stopped.
"Next time I'll go to the storeroom and pick something better for you."
"Really? That's wonderful!"
Doma happily nuzzled her cheek, then proudly pulled a crumpled letter from his sleeve.
"Look! Our good son wrote to us!
Sato just brought it back from the post station.
Seems like something interesting happened!"
They leaned together and unfolded the letter.
True to Inosuke's style, there were no greetings, no pleasantries.
Just an extremely wild stick-figure drawing.
One stick figure with a boar mask was kneeling and crying, labeled Ugly Bastard.
Another, holding two massive blades and labeled Me, stood triumphantly on its head.
Off to the side, two trembling stick figures—Tanjiro and Zenitsu—held signs reading Big Brother Is Awesome.
At the very bottom, scrawled in messy handwriting:
Dad, ran into an idiot wearing a boar mask trying to copy me.
I yelled at him until he cried.
Ugly and poor.
Also: that blond eats way too much. Travel funds insufficient.
Wire me 500 gold plates.
—Inosuke
Kotoha covered her mouth, worried.
"Oh dear… this child… why is he bullying people again?
And asking for so much money… won't he learn bad habits?"
"HAHAHAHAHA!"
Doma laughed until tears nearly fell.
Pointing at the boar-headed stick figure, his eyes overflowed with twisted pride and love.
"That's my Inosuke!"
"Kotoha, look how proud we should be!
He defeated an imitator and crushed him spiritually—
that's the talent of a ruler!"
He folded the letter reverently and tucked it against his chest.
"If our son upheld his dignity out there, how could I, as his father, be stingy?"
Doma stood and called out:
"Sato!"
"Yes, my lord."
The butler appeared like a ghost.
"Send Inosuke one thousand—no, two thousand gold plates."
Doma waved grandly.
"Tell him money is no issue.
As long as he brings me more interesting stories, I don't mind emptying the entire cult."
"Yes!"
After everything was arranged, Doma sat back beside Kotoha, watching her sew.
He gently twined a lock of her hair around his pale fingers, a rare, unreadable emotion flickering in his rainbow eyes.
"You know, Kotoha…"
His voice was low, strangely tender.
"It's nice, having you both.
I used to think eternal life was boring, humans were boring—just piles of meat."
"But now…
watching Inosuke causing a ruckus out there,
watching you sewing clothes here…"
"This game called family…
is far more interesting than being Cult Leader."
He leaned down and inhaled deeply at her neck, breathing in her human warmth.
"To preserve this happiness…
I wouldn't hesitate to freeze the entire world."
Kotoha's hand trembled. The needle pricked her finger, a bead of red blood welling up.
Doma's eyes darkened. Before she could react, he caught her hand and placed the finger in his mouth.
"Don't waste it…"
"This, too… is the taste of family."
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