“Um, I just wanted to go inside first, since the sun is about to—” Hiru swallowed the rest of his words under the group’s heavy, intimidating gazes. Slowly, he stepped back behind Yoriichi. “Forget I said anything.”
“Go ahead. I’ll join you soon.” Yoriichi turned his eyes from the faintly brightening horizon back to the four swordsn before him. “Everyone, I have no intention of fighting. I swear on my life—Hiru has never eaten a human. I will continue to watch over him and make sure he never does. When I slay the Demon King, I’ll take him with to hell.”
Oborozuki watched as Hiru, upon receiving permission, ran straight into the house. His sword lowered slightly. “But you cannot prove he won’t suddenly attack. After witnessing so many demons, I find it hard to believe one could retain its sanity.”
“If we can avoid a fight, I can convince Hiru to cooperate with your inspection. But in return, I hope you’ll accept his existence.” Yoriichi had no desire to clash with the swordsn of the Demon Slayer Corps. These warriors were precious—people capable of battling demons. If they were injured because of him, more demons would only rise unchecked. “If we continue fighting each other, it will only end in mutual loss—and humanity will pay the price.”
“Mr. Oborozuki! Don’t listen to him—he’s clearly been—”
Oborozuki turned toward the scar-covered swordsman. “Mr. Yato, what kind of person do you believe Mr. Yoriichi is?”
The rest of Yato’s words seed to catch in his throat, and no sound ca out.
“Mr. Oborozuki, you’re not seriously thinking of trusting a demon, are you?” The short-haired swordsman’s tone was full of disbelief.
“Mr. Iwayuki, I’m not trusting the demon,” Oborozuki said calmly. “I’m choosing to believe in Mr. Yoriichi. Besides, it’s clear that the man who beca a demon hasn’t lost his reason. I’m willing to give him a chance.” He sheathed his sword. “Mr. Rengoku, what do you think?”
“...I also want to believe in Mr. Yoriichi.” Rengoku lowered his head, his sword drooping loosely in his hand, but then he straightened suddenly, voice booming again. “Of course! Fighting one’s own teacher—it’s sothing no man could bring himself to do! To lack even the conviction as a demon-slaying swordsman—how utterly shaful!”
“Seriously… Hey, Mr. Iwayuki, don’t tell you’re thinking of letting the demon off too?”
Iwayuki sheathed his sword. “I was simply considering that it’s dayti now, and the demon has gone inside the house. He has nowhere to run. Since that’s the case, it wouldn’t hurt to take a little ti to verify things. If he truly can’t control himself, then we can cut him down when the ti cos.”
“You three really—ha, fine.” Yato reluctantly sheathed his blade as well. “Anyway, if we really fought, the four of us together probably couldn’t beat Mr. Yoriichi.”
“Thank you,” Yoriichi said, bowing deeply, his gratitude sincere.
“This is the first ti I’ve seen Mr. Yoriichi so resolute,” Oborozuki sighed. “I’m glad you’ve found your path, but since you’re protecting a demon, I can’t say I feel entirely happy about it.”
“My apologies.” Yoriichi sheathed his sword and opened the door. “Please, co in.”
Inside, the house was clean and bright—nothing like what they’d imagined from soone harboring a demon.
“Brother, are you finished talking?”
Almost at once, the four swordsn reached for their hilts, their eyes darting toward the staircase. There stood Hiru, gazing down at them curiously.
“Yes. They said they’d like to test you. If you pass, maybe soday I’ll be able to take you out into the world openly.” Yoriichi climbed the stairs first, nodding to the four below. “Hiru, this is a rare opportunity. You—”
“I refuse.”
Yoriichi froze, staring in surprise at his younger brother, who was now blocking his way. “Hiru?”
“I said I refuse.” Hiru looked directly at Yoriichi before turning his stubborn gaze toward the four swordsn below. “Why should I cooperate with them in the first place?”
“Hiru, don’t be unreasonable.”
“No.” Hiru turned away, his voice tight with anger that only grew as the tense atmosphere eased. “They never intended to talk to , did they? They ca here to kill . I absolutely refuse to cooperate.”
Yoriichi sighed, watching his once-ek brother now standing defiant. “Hiru…”
“If you want my cooperation, show so sincerity.” Hiru knew how childish he sounded, but with his stomach empty and his mood sour, a violent irritation festered in him. If he didn’t find a way to vent it, he might do sothing foolish. “You don’t ask soone for help and co empty-handed.”
Sensing Hiru’s anxiety and mistrust, Yoriichi exhaled quietly. “Then what do you want, Hiru?”
“Strawberry daifuku.” Hiru crossed his arms. “Bring strawberry daifuku today, and I’ll consider cooperating.”
Yoriichi sighed again. He had promised Hiru that treat, but with other swordsn present, he couldn’t just leave him alone, nor could he send them to buy it—what if they laced it with Wisteria? Touching it was harmless, but eating it could be another matter entirely.
“If you agree to cooperate, I can make strawberry daifuku for you later,” Oborozuki said, stepping up the stairs with deliberate calm. “It may not be the right ti, but before I beca a Demon Slayer, I ran a confectionery shop. I can buy the ingredients and make them myself.”
Yoriichi relaxed slightly at that—at least it was a workable solution, and he could even learn the recipe.
Hiru, however, stared at Oborozuki with faintly gray-tinted eyes before turning away. “I’m not bargaining. This is a basic demand. Bring the strawberry daifuku first.”
“Hey! You demon, don’t push your—ow! What the—Mr. Rengoku, why’d you hit ?!” Yato clutched his stomach, glaring at him.
“Hahaha! Now that I think about it, we really were quite rude!” Rengoku withdrew his hand, laughing heartily. “How shaful—showing up without even a gift! Mr. Oborozuki, will making daifuku take long?”
“Not at all. If we have the ingredients, about an hour should be enough…”
“Then let’s make so daifuku right now!” Rengoku declared, folding his arms proudly. “After all, Mr. Demon here has been enduring hunger while we talk!”
“Then I’ll go buy the ingredients,” Iwayuki sighed. “Mr. Oborozuki, what do you need?”
“Glutinous rice flour, red bean paste, and strawberries will do. If there’s no rice flour, glutinous rice works too. Mr. Yoriichi should have sugar and utensils at ho. I’ll start preparing.”
“Yes, everything’s here. I’ll show you the way.”
Hiru watched as Yoriichi led the blue-haired swordsman out. With nothing else to do, he sat on the stairs, staring straight at the two who remained.
“Mr. Demon! Let’s talk!”
Hiru turned his head. “I don’t want to talk to you, Mr. Owl.”
Rengoku: “Owl… owl?”
Yato glanced at Rengoku, whose face had gone blank, and couldn’t suppress a snicker. “You know what? He’s kind of right.”
“Well then!” Rengoku quickly recovered, voice bright again. “Why doesn’t Mr. Demon want to talk to this humble owl?”
“Because my na is Hiru, not ‘Mr. Demon.’ And demons don’t converse with Demon Slayers.” Hiru blinked slowly, subtly rolling his eyes. This swordsman doesn’t seem all that bright.
“My apologies! I am Rengoku Tetsushiro, a Demon Slayer!” Rengoku announced with his usual booming voice. “It’s an honor to et you! And your na is?”
Hiru clamped his hands over his ears, puffing out his cheeks in exasperation. Despite himself, he couldn’t quite dislike the man’s cheerful energy—if only he could lower his voice a bit.
“Tsugikuni Hiru. That’s my na. As for my occupation…” Hiru pursed his lips. “Let’s just say I’m an odd fellow with a strange eating disorder.”
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