Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Look like a girl, but i think like a guy. Not ladylike behave like a slime. Easy to be sleaze when you got a filthy minds 

– «girls» marina and the diamonds

August 1914 

Shinobu was the youngest daughter of the eldest daughter of the youngest son.  

Her mother, Camellia Kocho, was the kindest soul in the world. She could be gentle, but when circumstances demanded, she’d turn into a concrete wall, unyielding, shielding her family from any harm.  

Aki Kocho was fiercely intelligent. Fresh out of university, he’d been offered a position at Oxford, where he spent years lecturing before returning to Japan. There, he met Camellia, and they built a life together. Now, he headed the surgical department at Tokyo Central Hospital.  

Kanae? She’d give you the shirt off her back, or her last pair of pants. Every boy on the street dreamed of marrying her; every girl burned with envy until Kanae steamrolled them with kindness, leaving them dazed and disarmed.  

Shinobu herself? Well… words failed her. How could you possibly cram enough adjectives into one sentence?  

There was one word to capture her essence: Sarcasm (capital S essential). Not an emotion you understand, one you feel.  Sarcasm was a beautiful thing. Even when you couldn’t insult someone outright, you could wrap bitter truth in nonsense, forbidden and sweet.  

Her actions weren't just inappropriate for a woman; they shattered every concept of normality. But she never aspired to conform to society's archetype of a respectable lady. People might have called her insane, but Shinobu had the impression that they labeled as such anything that didn't fit their own rigid, preconceived notions. Insanity isn't an emotion. It's a severe psychological disorder: convulsions, hallucinations with a clear consciousness, suicide attempts. Shinobu knew she was born in the wrong era. A woman wasn't supposed to have character, pursue knowledge, or wear fucking trousers. The only thing that kept her warm was the understanding that this wouldn't last forever. That one day, such behavior would inspire admiration.

And furthermore, Shinobu never knew what it was to be enough. Did it mean leaving a pleasant emotional aura in your wake, bestowing it generously upon every passerby, as Camellia did? Perhaps one must, following Kanae's prototype, possess a vast heart and an overflowing current of kindness that runs through a nature woven by God's perfect design. Or perhaps it is to remind people of the very purpose for which they were given the ability to Be; to remind them of the sheer volume of knowledge they can hold within themselves and share with those around them, much in the image of Aki. Is one meant to inspire joy in people merely by one's face? Shinobu did not consider herself a devotee of Aphrodite, for the goddess had clearly denied her that particular passion. To be sufficient. It was something she would never achieve, forever surrounded by people so perfect in their very nature.

As much as Shinobu craved attention (and she did), one truth had crystallized early: people were idiots. Most of them. Fine, not, all but close enough!  

Conversations with peers were torture. Worse than exhausting, like scrubbing her brain with a toothbrush. 

“Well? What do you think?” Kanae turned the floral arrangement toward her.  

“Mm… lovely,” Shinobu drawled, flashing a smile.  

Kanae crafted vibrant bouquets. Their parents displayed each one, praising her talent endlessly. Shinobu was happy for her sister, flowers were Kanae’s element.  

Shinobu? She’d craved knowledge since infancy. Every science had claimed her soul, from intricate biological systems to the nuances of psychology and pedagogy.  

“Want to take a walk with Mom?” Kanae asked.  

Shinobu’s gaze drifted around the room: pale wallpaper, shelves of blossoms, pots beneath sunlit windows, bright curtains. It always smelled divine here, warmth pooling wherever sunlight fell.  

“I’ll finish reading instead.” Shinobu rose slowly from her knees and left.  

Her bedroom door opened, revealing her sanctuary. Bookshelves devoured every wall, arching over doors, stacked double-deep with rear titles propped for visibility. Her mattress nestled in a hollow carved into one cabinet. Books colonized her desk, bed, and beyond.  

Scientific fiction crowded the first shelf; medical texts loomed nearby.  

Perfect. It lacked the warmth of the rest of the house, especially Kanae’s room, but it was hers. Cool even in summer. Permanently dim. Uncompromisingly private. However much she loved her family, she needed solitude. A full day among people drained her.  

“Dad, finished with the prescription?” Shinobu called, stepping out.  

“Almost,” Aki replied.  

She’d always been his mirror: violet eyes, sharp features. Kanae resembled their mother, in spirit and face.  

“Weren’t we going to the park?” Kanae emerged.  

“Plenty of time,” Shinobu snapped.  

“We can,” Camellia interjected, halting the spat before it began. “Try the pie first. Strawberry.”  

She set down a tray, its aroma irresistible. Strawberries were rare here, but Shinobu adored them. Outside, dusk bled crimson into the room.  

Shinobu had helped bake it. She knew it would be perfect.  

Years later, she’d remember this house. By then, she’d speak to none of them. Exhaustion would crush her as horror shattered her spirit. She’d stand alone, buckling under responsibility she never chose. Joy would come only in fleeting moments with Giyu, tangled attempts to understand him, and cigarettes.  

Himejima would say much, harsh and kind, leaving scars she never expected. If only someone had known more that day… perhaps the chaos could’ve been avoided.  

Long before flowers withered and winter came.  

Before earning colleagues’ respect. Before policing Tanjiro’s training, teaching Inosuke manners, and stopping Zenitsu from stealing sweets.  

Before five children, orphaned, nearly her age, landed in her care.  

But now, she sat with living parents. Before Giyu Tomioka called her "ineffable." Before Sanemi Shinazugawa sneered "crazy." Before tending to demon slayers who took her care for granted.  

“Mom, I’ll help.” Shinobu took the sponge.  

“My diligent girl,” Camellia smiled. “Cinema tomorrow?”  

August 24th — Kanae’s birthday — demanded celebration plans.  

“Yes,” Aki said, catching Shinobu’s stare. “The three of us will have fun. And Shinobu don’t glare. You’re banned from premieres. Five fire trucks? Really?”  

“That damned guard,” she grumbled. If her eighteen-year-old self heard this now, she’d laugh, loud and genuine, for the first time in ages. By then, movies would be her lifeline, burying relentless thoughts under cheap tropes that faded to white noise.  

“You’d leave her alone?!” Camellia’s voice turned arctic.  

“No, listen—we’d see the film without her, but we’d spend the day—”  

“Not another word.”  

Aki surrendered.  

Shinobu smirked.  

***

August 24, 1914 

Last time Shinobu mixed hydrogen peroxide and acetone, she’d brewed unstable explosives, demolishing half a ladies’ restroom mid-film. She wasn’t welcome there anymore.  

Aki quickly put a mask of some mythical creature on her, so that the security guards would let them in. Thanks to this, Shinobu was able to wander around the park and reach the cinema with peace of mind.

“Twenty minutes till showtime. Time for a walk?” Aki beamed, smoothing his hair.  

Shinobu noticed the strange behavior of other people, so she broke away from her family and decided to find out what was going on. Everyone was anxiously discussing the newspaper news, and she needed to get a copy.

“Goddammit, no!” A woman hurled hers into trash.  

She wasn't going to pick through the trash, even out of curiosity. A large man walked past her. He cursed loudly at a newspaper, tore it in his hands, and threw it at his feet. Shinobu grimaced. No matter how terrible the news in the newspaper was, it wasn't a reason to litter on the street. And in the middle of a central park, no less! She was upset that she couldn't read the newspaper anymore, but she picked up the torn pieces of paper from the pavement, trying to make sense of them, but there was nothing but broken letters. She threw them in the same trash can as the loud woman earlier, and then she continued on her way.

Walking a little further into the park, she once again witnessed a very unusual reaction from people. Shinobu always had pocket money given to her by her parents for her academic achievements, so all she had to do was go into the store and request a newspaper.

“Everyone’s asking today, but no surprise! When I read—”  

“Rude or not, could you shut up? I prefer primary sources.” Ignoring his outrage, she stepped outside and read:  

EMPIRE OF JAPAN DECLARES WAR ON GERMANY!  

Recent developments indicate... 

Before she could react, her father snatched the paper.  

“Do you know how long we searched?” he hissed.  

“Japan’s attacking Germany? Why?” Stunned, she glanced at Kanae, now pale.  

“Today’s news isn’t pleasant,” Aki said grimly. “War has begun.”  

***

Details were scarce. No one would discuss it, least of all with her. Shinobu hated being dismissed for her age. Nine wasn’t that young. Kanae had just turned twelve, yet even she wasn’t taken seriously.  

Was there anyone who would? Probably not.  

Haruko, an old family friend, visited. Her father spoke with him for two hours. From what she-definitely-didn’t-eavesdrop, he lamented his life: failing marriage, work troubles, sick kids, standard midlife misery.  

“What did he want? To complain?” she asked, emerging later.  

“I’ll supply his medicine. Get him a hospital job. Might help. Though convincing him to see our chief physician…” Aki pulled on his coat.  

“Need me? I’ll take leave,” Camellia offered.  

“Since you’re leaving… Why is this our problem?” Shinobu pressed. Everyone had troubles. His weren’t special.  

Aki fixed her with a steel gaze.  

“Shinobu, if another buckles under their burden, carry half of it. If someone grieves, grieve with them. If they’re in trouble, share it.”  

Ugh. She’d heard this speech forever. Usually, it washed over her, but her father’s piercing stare sharpened her focus. Help others… She had to retort. Couldn’t l

et him win.  

“He doesn’t even know your name. Calls you ‘Kocho’ after seven years. But you know best.”  

Aki slammed the door.  

Chapter Text

Remember me when I am gone away,

Gone far away into the silent land;  

When you can no more hold me by the hand,  

Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay.  

Remember me when no more day by day

You tell me of our future that you planned:  

Only remember me; you understand  

It will be late to counsel then or pray.  

— "Remember" by Christina Rossett

August 27, 1914

"A letter from the hospital." Aki scanned the paper, brow furrowing. "Splendid. They want me treating wounded if Japan dives into this slaughter."  

"Congratulations! It’s not like we have spare surgeons lying around—oh, wait. We don’t." Shinobu scowled.  

"You’ll freeze your face like that if you keep it up," Camellia warned.  

Shinobu knew it was nonsense, but who cared?  

"Maybe you’ll stop dragging me to society events then," she snipped.  

"If this workload piles up, it’ll kill me," Aki muttered—earning a kick from his wife.  

"And who would I sass?" Shinobu shot back.  

Aki laughed. Soft, but genuine.  

"Samusa’s getting married. Invited us to the ceremony Monday..."  

Her parents started discussing the details of the upcoming event. They would give money as always. Because, well... It wasn't like they were rich, but they were damn close. As strange as it may sound, right after their engagement, they bought a small house, but not far from the center of Tokyo. They loved the city, but for some reason, they didn't want to live in a big and spacious house. Shinobu didn't complain - she loved living here, as the place was cozy in itself.

Instead of a luxurious life, the Kochos chose a free one. They didn't look at the prices in stores, and even when dining in expensive restaurants, they started by looking at the menu on the left side instead of the right. They could go on vacation or visit museums whenever they wanted.

"Samusa—your med school friend?" Shinobu cut in.  

"Yes. Visited us a few times," Aki said.  

"Must be a fine college. Accepts girls..."  

"Minimum age: thirteen."  

"Program’s short—just four years."  

"Too soon to worry."  

"Beautiful campus too. Arches, marble columns—"  

"How d’you know the—" Aki’s eyes flew open. "You applied, didn’t you?"  

"I tested early. Still can’t enroll for four years." Shinobu’s smile was brittle.  

Her parents stared, unreadable. Her father rose slowly. Shinobu swallowed. Camellia pulled bills from her purse and handed them to Aki.  

"Told you she’d outmaneuver us," he said.  

"I didn’t think she’d pick her future *this* young!"  

"Did Dad win?" Kanae asked, drifting in.  

"You knew?!" Shinobu hated being this predictable.  

"I’d have bet too, but parents vetoed it." Kanae smiled.  

Warmth flooded the room. Camellia hugged Kanae’s shoulders; sunlight streamed through the windows.  

"But Shinobu," Aki’s voice sharpened, "I’m not pleased with what you did."  

Her smile died. Why now?  

"What’s there to be pleased about?"  

"You went to my college! Applied without telling us!"  

"So? Nothing happened!"  

"We’re your parents! We deserve to know! You’re still a child!"  

"I’m not a baby! I decide what’s right!" Shinobu screamed, then stormed out before he could retort.  

Such a perfect moment. Ruined. Why does he always do this?  

She collapsed onto her mattress, grabbing the nearest book. Riling her up was easy—but she hated it.  

They’d make up tomorrow. They always did. All they needed was time.  

***  

Shinobu didn’t know fear could be this animal. She couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, only watch. Watch as the thing burst into their home. Watch it seize her father as he lunged, unarmed, to shield them. She saw Camellia screaming RUN — but where? Shinobu and Kanae huddled in a corner, unable to look away or close their eyes as they watched the demon tear Aki's body apart. They watched as it devoured a still-living Camelia. Kanae screamed, but Shinobu didn't. She couldn't. Although, perhaps, a part of her mind was screaming, screaming, and screaming without stopping. It was as if she was deafened by the internal cries. The other part was listening and trying to find a solution, if I may say so. Her mind was racing through the possibilities of what she could do. Kanae wrapped her arms around Shinobu in a panic, trying to protect her somehow. Even knowing that she was likely to die, Kanae held her. Shinobu had the impression that her heart was no longer beating, but vibrating. The room had turned into a bloody mess. The demon was doing something strange to her mother, probably eating, but there were crimson pools of blood under their bodies — the remains of their bodies —and splattered all over the walls, ceiling, and tables and chairs, and on the books.

Then a man with a hand-axe and spiked chain exploded through the ruined doorway. He split the demon’s skull, and it crumbled to ash.  

After pure terror. After losing everything. After the worst night imaginable...  

Life just went on.  

Men in black uniforms — kakushi, she’d learn later — entered. Took statements from the demon slayer (who’d already fled, green haori vanishing). Began bagging bodies.  

"We can still help them," Shinobu said. Her voice was calm. Too calm.  

"W-we can’t," Kanae trembled.  

Shinobu whirled, ready to scream, but stopped. Won’t bring them back.  

Shinobu turned around and was about to yell at her. No. It wouldn't help. It wouldn't bring their parents back.
An unbearable weight began to grow in her chest, and she was about to lose it, but not yet. Right now, she was just staring at the chaos that had taken over their home. Her parents had always forbidden her from using these "unappropriate" words, but now, no one could punish her for using them. It made you want to laugh and cry at the same time.

Shinobu was left alone with Kanae.

Chapter Text

Grief – is the response to the loss of something deemed important, particularly to the death of a person to whom or animal to which a bond or affection was formed. Although conventionally focused on the emotional response to loss, grief also has physical, cognitive, behavioral, social, cultural, spiritual and philosophical dimensions. While the terms are often used interchangeably, bereavement refers to the state of loss, while grief is the reaction to that loss.

***

September, 1914

Shinobu did not exist these days. All she did was lie on her bed and stare at the ceiling. Her eyes now constantly ached from the salt of the tears that flowed of their own accord: starting, then stopping. She had completely stopped caring for the needs of her body, and Kanae had to literally pour water into her. Food was out of the question. She had lost almost three kilograms, which was really bad, given her terribly fragile and small build.

"Mr. Yamato will take us," Kanae said tenderly as she approached Shinobu. "Right after the ceremony... the burial ceremony..."

A knife seemed to twist in Shinobu's stomach. This couldn't be true. It all seemed unreal. Something that should happen to other people, but certainly not to her. She had, no, they had plans. They had the right to live their lives, so why did someone think they could take that away from them?

No! No! No!

Shinobu couldn't help but be angry. However selfish it sounded, she couldn't understand: why their house? Why their family? There were so many houses in the whole district, so many people, but only they were dealt this fate.

She managed to turn away from such thoughts in time. Shinobu was in no state to be glad that others were spared such pain. It was both so good and so bad. Bad because it made her remember what had happened a few days ago.

"And then what?" Shinobu asked sharply.

Kanae turned to her with a puzzled look on her face.

"What do you mean?"

"After we watched our parents get torn apart right in front of us, we just go back to a normal life? Like, go to school, do homework, find the love of our lives. What kind of nonsense is that?"

Kanae was silent. She was clearly trying to find the right words.

"What else is left for us?"

A chuckle escaped Shinobu.

"You know."

Kanae knew. The Kakushi had helped them pull themselves together and even calm down, and then began asking about their closest relatives to send them to their house. Yamato Kocho was a cousin of Aki Kocho, with whom they hadn't spoken for ten years, but upon hearing the terrible news of what had happened, he agreed to take them in.

Shinobu knew nothing about this man. Not even the reason for the brothers' quarrel.

The Kakushi had also told them about the work of a Demon Slayer. Girls were accepted. That was good.

"I... I don't want anyone else to go through the same thing," Kanae suddenly said.

Shinobu looked up at her, then immediately turned her gaze to the window. A young family with an infant in their arms was walking down the street. The mother was saying something cheerfully to her husband, who was smiling from ear to ear. Shinobu imagined that family being killed by a demon. She felt sick.

"Then you understand, we must join the ranks of the Slayers."

Kanae wasn't as sure as Shinobu. She needed time to think about what had been said, and Shinobu gave it to her.

"We'll learn to cut off their heads and pass the selection," Shinobu tried to smile, but at that moment something happened that almost made her vomit: Kanae looked her up and down with an appraising gaze. She didn't believe Shinobu could do it. After all, she had always been smaller than the other children and of a very petite build.

Kanae didn't believe in her. Even knowing her all her life, even knowing about her passion for solving unsolvable problems, she didn't believe in her like she always had.

"I can't let you join the Demon Slayer Corps, but I couldn't live knowing someone is suffering at the hands of a demon at this very moment. And I know you couldn't live like that either," Kanae said her line in a monotone voice. "And I just don't know what to do."

Shinobu was silent. She knew that with desire, you could do anything. More precisely, with sufficient ingenuity. So what if she couldn't cut off demons' heads? Intelligence is, first and foremost, the ability to solve complex problems. And this was one of them.

"You can't decide for me," Shinobu turned away from Kanae.

"Yes, I can't."

Kanae knew. Such a perceptive and, most importantly, understanding person. Even if she told her wayward sister that a Slayer's work was dangerous, that Shinobu could die, nothing would change. An older sister should always take care of the younger one, and Kanae was managing.

"I keep thinking that this can happen and is happening to other families. To other people," Kanae knelt before Shinobu, running her hands through her disheveled strands down to the roots. "I want to help them."

Kanae wanted to become a Slayer because she wanted to save people. Shinobu wanted to become a Slayer because she wanted to kill demons. Both were worthy reasons.

"Let's join the ranks of the Slayers," said Shinobu.

"Let's," Kanae answered after a short pause.

Shinobu stood before an estate of impressive size. Yamato Kocho clearly did not strive for modesty. Say what you will, but this family wasn't shy about showing others they had money. He looked like the most stereotypical representative of Japan's wealthy population. Black hair slicked to the side, an expensive kimono, a stern gaze.

"Hello, Kanae and Shinobu, please come inside. I will show you to your rooms," Yamato led them through a flower garden that Kanae examined with pleasure.

There was no sense of the familial coziness that had been in the Kocho family. Yamato's words seemed addressed to prestigious guests, but not to close relatives.

Shinobu got a room at the very end of the house. There wasn't a single book in it, alas.

"Even here, your room looks fresher than all the places in the house," Shinobu lay dejectedly on her sister's bed, burying her head in the pillow.

"It's really nice here," Kanae lay down next to her.

They lay like that for a very long time, each thinking their own thoughts. And those thoughts were still the same for both of them.

Shinobu appeared at the joint funeral of her parents. Almost all their acquaintances and relatives came too, and, to her surprise, the place was packed to capacity.

She got so tired of everyone's attempts to talk to her that she inconspicuously moved to the very back row. Kanae sat alone in the front and even gave a very long speech about their parents. She spoke for both of them anyway, so Shinobu remained at the very back until the very end.

For half a month, not a day had passed, and not a day would pass, when she wouldn't think about Aki and Camellia Kocho. She looked at the dishes and remembered how the three of them washed them with her mother. She looked at the chemistry textbooks and remembered how she and her father solved problems from them. Everything around her reminded her of what she had lost.

She had no chance to forget about it and live a normal life. Someone might say that she had never lived a normal life, but it all depends on what you consider normal.

And, as always happens, Shinobu simply got fed up. At four in the morning, she sneaked into Kanae's room and woke her up.

"What... What is it?" she asked sleepily.

"It's time for us to go," Shinobu gave her sister a slight shake.

Kanae looked at her sternly.

"We can't just leave like this, Shinobu."

"I..." Shinobu's voice was unusually broken. "I can't be here anymore."

She wanted to say the word "stay," but couldn't. Kanae couldn't bear such a look from her sister, who almost always had either a serious or a calm expression on her face.

"Okay. Of course we'll go."

Chapter Text

September 17, 1914 

"Are you sure he lives here?" Kanae and Shinobu hesitated at the entrance to the house.

"The Kakushi couldn't have lied to us," Kanae raised her hand and prepared to knock on the door.

"Who knows," said Shinobu. "You don't actually have to raise your hand to knock on the door, by the way. I wonder: where did that habit come from for all people?"

"That's not important right now," Kanae knocked softly. "Is this the home of Mr. Himejima Gyomei?"

A man stood before them, about two meters tall and nearly as wide.

"Please forgive us for taking the liberty of coming here!" Kanae bowed deeply. "My name is Kocho Kanae, and this is my younger sister, Shinobu."

Shinobu tensed up a little because she didn't know if she should bow deeply too? For some reason, it seemed unnatural to her. In the end, she decided to just incline her head slightly.

"Someone from the Kakushi squad told us. Mr. Himejima, you extended a helping hand to us and defeated that vile demon, but we never thanked you properly, and I deeply apologize for that! I am sincerely grateful to you for saving us... I am especially grateful for saving my younger sister!"

Kanae spoke in her velvety, incrediblе tender voice. Shinobu liked listening to her, even though between the two of them, it was almost always Shinobu who did the talking.

"Thank you for saving my older sister!" said (or perhaps shouted) Shinobu.

"The rites for our deceased parents have already been held... their bodies were almost undamaged, so they were buried properly... All thanks to you, Mr. Himejima!"

Himejima listened with a frown. "He probably suspects we didn't just come here to say thank you," went through Shinobu's thoughts.

"It was nothing special. After all, killing demons is my job."

Actually, his tone was very cold. Even too cold. As if they had done something bad to him.

"Oh, yes. The Kakushi also told us about the Demon Slayers!" Kanae spoke very nervously. She looked at Shinobu and gave a slight nod; receiving a positive answer, she continued: "Actually, we came here because we have a request..."

"Please, teach me and my sister how to kill demons!" Shinobu interrupted her older sister. "Please, teach us how to cut off the heads of those demons!"

Kanae... Oh god, she wasn't ready. Her heart was completely filled with sadness and deep grief. Shinobu inside felt only rage and hatred. Which of the two was worse—she couldn't say. Carrying not only the grief of losing her parents but also a burning inner anger was unbearable. And something had to be done with it.

After Shinobu's speech, Himejima didn't even bother to answer and simply... Walked away.

The girls looked at each other in complete bewilderment.

"I guess it's not meant to be..." Kanae headed for the door.

"He'll think so too. We'll wait until he agrees."

"But he already refused!"

"What a shame!" Shinobu said sarcastically.

***

After a while, Himejima came out to chop some firewood but felt that Shinobu was already busy with the process.

"You're still here?" he threw out roughly.

"Of course. You still haven't agreed to teach us how to kill demons!" Shinobu said angrily.

The sound of splitting wood rang out. The axe was hellishly heavy for her, but Shinobu couldn't just stop.

"I'll take care of the firewood, and my sister can take care of the laundry and cleaning. If it's alright, we were also thinking of washing your kimono! Don't forget to change into it later!"

Since they planned to be here until the end, they might as well help him. This house lacked a woman's touch. And besides, Shinobu loved to work and also loved to dump the most unpleasant part, like laundry, on Kanae.

"I don't recall asking the two of you to help me," said Himejima, clearly displeased. "Go home before it gets dark."

"But we don't have a home..." Shinobu said stubbornly. "We lost everything and abandoned everything we had left, so we have nothing to hold onto anymore. I only have my sister..."

Finishing speaking, she continued chopping wood, but the axe almost overbalanced her.

"Give that here!" Himejima snatched the axe from Shinobu's hands.

"Aim for the core and chop downward."

An extremely clear sound echoed in the yard.

"But, Uncle, you can't see! How did you know where to aim?" asked Shinobu. She had read in books that people with visual impairments developed their other senses to the limit, but this case wasn't like the ones in medical journals.

"I'm not old enough yet to be called 'uncle'."

Well... Shinobu wouldn't say that.

"Then, Mr. Himejima," her serious tone was adorable. "Is that wound on your forehead from a demon? Does it still hurt?"

Shinobu had read "Scar Neuralgia" by... well, there was a scientist known for his work on the physiology of vision, but his research on nerve conduction helped explain why damaged nerves in scars sometimes send spontaneous pain impulses.

"Just go home!" he ignored Shinobu's questions and said in an icy tone: "The two of you couldn't kill a demon..."

Shinobu wouldn't be so sure. But he said it in a tone that suggested they couldn't do it because of their gender.

"What? Aren't there girls in this organization? That Kakushi person told us everything, so don't think you can fool me!"

"Fine, there are girls, but there are far fewer of them than men, and most of them can't pass the Final Selection."

"What's the Final Selection? Is it some kind of test? Don't worry, my sister and I are good with problems..."

"It's not a school test... Even though it's difficult now, sooner or later you will forget all this. Just be normal girls and live a happy life. Find a man you like, start a family, and live until you grow old..."

How easily he says it. As if she can really choose a good life and a happy life.

"How can I forget!"

Shinobu shouted this with such volume that a multitude of birds flew off the trees.

"I saw my parents killed right before my eyes, understand?! Living a normal life is happiness?! Lying to myself and pretending it's all forgotten— is that happiness?! I don't want that kind of happiness! That's like pretending to be dead!"

"A Demon Slayer's life is a path of blood, and it's a hard path. Do you think your deceased parents would have wished for their daughters to choose such a future?"

"Well, at this point, no one will ever know what my parents wanted!"

Shinobu was drawing air into her lungs while Himejima couldn't answer her. She decided to pester him while he was in a stupor.

"Then, Mr. Himejima, can you live like that? After your loved ones are killed, can you just move on as if nothing happened? Why did you join the Demon Slayer Association? Why did you become a Slayer?!"

To hell with it. Shinobu no longer saw any point in saying or proving anything to him; no adult understood her, so she just walked away with quick steps towards the house. Behind her, Mr. Himejima's shouts could be heard, but she no longer cared. She was too tired from all these days.

***

Shinobu returned in the evening, having gathered various kinds of mushrooms and vegetables in the forest on her way back.

"I'm here!" she laid everything out on the table. "Meant to say, dinner is served! Aren't I just lovely?"

Himejima frowned distrustfully and kept glancing at his crow.

"I washed the rice," Kanae approached her with a bowl of clean rice. "Is it okay that we're using his food?"

"If he doesn't want to teach us, let him pay for it."

"Well, you know, Shinobu, that's kind of... Well, like... Not nice."

Shinobu wasn't particularly bothered by that.

"Mr. Himejima," she called. "Dinner is ready!"

"Sorry, we took the liberty of using your rice, miso, and other products," added Kanae, feeling embarrassed, but it was too late to apologize now.

Himejima picked up a plate of food.

"This is delicious!" Trying the soup, Gyomei unintentionally uttered these words.

"Shinobu made it," Kanae replied joyfully. "She cooks well; she used to gather all sorts of plants in our yard, imitate healers, and pretend to create medicines! Once she even managed to make one!"

"Well, Sis is still better than me," Shinobu said somewhat rudely. Being praised so openly made her uncomfortable. "Sis is the main beauty of our town. She can play the koto, arrange flowers, brew tea! There's nothing she doesn't know! The boys in town are crazy about her!"

"Shinobu, that's enough," Kanae gave her a slight nudge with her elbow.

"But what I'm saying is true!"

"Alright already, Shinobu..."

"Seriously! Mr. Himejima, are there any dishes you prefer?"

"Fried eggs? Stewed vegetables? Or tempura? Shinobu and I can make them tomorrow."

***

Dark. The air thickens, saturated with something heavy, sticky, as if the darkness itself is pouring into the lungs. Somewhere in the distance, a whisper. Otherworldly, without words, but she understands it.

The shadows don't move as they should. They stream down the walls, merge in the corners, forming outlines... of something. It's watching. Waiting.

Then the smell. Coppery, warm, disgustingly familiar. The floor is slippery. The walls are pulsating.

It's here.

Not a face, but a hint of a face, too long, too many teeth. They're not just sharp, they're crooked, as if they grew wrong, in agony. It's smiling. Or does it just seem that way?

And then screams. But not her own. Others'. There are too many of them. They cut off.

Shinobu moved closer. A middle-aged woman was screaming in agony from the pain this entity was inflicting on her. She was beating her hands on the floor and moaning. It was her mother.

Oh no. This woman... Her legs are torn off, and her whole body is covered in blood. Something black is flowing from her eyes, and she's crawling... Crawling right towards Shinobu. Shinobu gets to her feet but can't run, just weakly moving her legs, she barely manages to move a couple of meters. But from the other side, her father approaches. His body is just as mutilated as her mother's.

Shinobu screams, but no sound comes from her mouth. Oh god, oh god...

"Shinobu! It's okay, everything is fine now!"

"No-o-o-o!!" She can scream! What happiness.

"Shinobu! Shinobu!" Kanae tried to calm her down and hugged her tightly.

"Demons...! The demon... Mom... Dad... They were..." She wanted to explain the reason for her nightmares, but she had the feeling she was still in the dream.

"Shinobu... Shinobu..."

Shinobu realized that almost her entire pillow was wet. The sounds she was making were like she was vomiting blood. How awful.

Himejima was nervously peeking in their direction.

***

Three days later, during which Shinobu and Kanae were adamant about not going home and waiting for Himejima to finally agree to train them, it finally happened.

Just not quite as they expected.

"Follow me," Himejima said after breakfast and led them to the backyard of the house.

There was a huge boulder there that Himejima used for training. The boulder was almost the size of a grown man; in the eyes of the young sisters, it might have seemed like a small mountain. In Shinobu's case, it was a huge mountain.

"If you pass the test I am about to give you, I will introduce you to the 'trainers' who teach Demon Slayers."

"Really?" Shinobu asked in a piercing tone.

Kanae, feeling confused, asked:

"May I ask... what is a 'Slayer Trainer'?"

"Well, obviously it's a person who trains slayers, it's clear from the name..." went through Shinobu's thoughts, but she didn't say it out loud.

"It means exactly that. They are people who teach swordsmen. There are several 'trainers,' and they live in different places. They use their own methods to train swordsmen. Most of them were originally skilled warriors but are now forced to retire... for various reasons, so they put all their effort into raising successors. As long as you train under such a person and pass the 'Final Selection' on Mount Fujikasane, you can officially receive the position of Demon Slayer in the Demon Slayer Association."

"Huh? Mr. Himejima won't train us himself?" A note of dissatisfaction was heard in Shinobu's voice.

She had been sure until the last moment that Himejima would take on their training himself.

"I have my own business to attend to—going on missions... And I also have to train myself, so I have no time for others."

"But you're already so strong, and you still need training?"

Kanae interrupted her surprised sister and replied:

"I understand! When we successfully pass this test, please direct us to the right trainer!"

"But you will have to train under different masters..."

"What? Really?.." The anxiety and fear of the two girls—especially Shinobu—hung in the air.

However, she quickly pulled herself together.

"Kanae?"

"It's fine."

After Shinobu called her sister in a voice full of determination, Kanae immediately nodded.

"We will survive the 'Final Selection' and meet again!"

Himejima closed his eyes and placed one hand on the boulder. He felt the rough, cold surface of the stone with his palm.

"What you need to do for the test... is simply move this boulder. If you can move it... I will acknowledge that you are worthy of becoming swordsmen."

Shinobu instantly lost all her determination, energy, and readiness to do anything. She knew that Himejima understood how absurd this task was. He knows it.

The most offensive thing was that he gave them hope and showed that he agreed to train them, and then immediately gave them an impossible task.

Himejima didn't want to refuse outright so his conscience wouldn't torment him later, so in this sneaky way, he simply absolved himself of all responsibility and shifted it onto the girls.

It was just vile.

Kanae couldn't find the words, so of course, Shinobu spoke up:

"Hey! Are you out of your mind? How is that possible? Tell me, who can even do that?!"

"I can drag it one chō."

(One chō is approximately 109.9 meters.)

"But you don't count! After all, you're as big as a bear! But we can't possibly do that!"

Turning to Shinobu, who was angry again, Himejima lowered his voice and said:

"Do you think they'll let you pass just because you can't do something?"

"What?"

"If you can't do it, someone will die. Someone who needs protection will be killed. In that situation, can you still make excuses?"

Himejima's words made Shinobu quiet down and fall silent.

"It doesn't matter whether you can do it or not. Even if you can't, you still have to force yourself. Regardless of whether there is a limit to your strength, regardless of what you have to sacrifice... you must stake all your strength and just do it!" Himejima's tone was extremely stern. "That's what it means to take responsibility for other people's lives and become a Demon Slayer. If you can't do that, then go home."

Himejima walked away.

"I think he's right about something," Kanae moved closer to her.

Shinobu choked on indignation.

"Oh, how dramatic!" said Shinobu, raising an eyebrow. "'It doesn't matter if you can or not, just do it!' that's not motivation, that's a rejection of rational planning. If I jump into a chasm without a rope, shouting 'I must!', I'll be splattered on the rocks, and who will be better off for it? He says, 'Stake all your strength,' but if my strength is objectively insufficient, then blind, suicidal persistence is not heroism, it's stupidity. Responsibility for others' lives is first and foremost about calculation, not a sacrificial impulse. And yes, 'if you can't — leave' is a false dichotomy. Between 'giving up' and 'throwing yourself on the grenade' there is a third option: become stronger. If a task exceeds my current capabilities, the rational choice is not to blindly rush into battle but to find a way to increase my chances. Because in the real world, the one who wins isn't the one who shouts 'I must!' the loudest, but the one who distributes their strength more wisely. Even if I force myself to move this rock, I'll more likely give myself a hernia."

Kanae looked... Scared.

"Yes, I think you're both right about something."

Shinobu made a displeased sound.

"Since he shifted the responsibility onto us in such a sneaky way and was rude to boot, I'm not going to be a noble warrior. We'll respond in kind."

When Gyomei went to tell the sisters he was leaving, they were still standing in front of the boulder, thinking about how to move it.

"Please be careful! You must return safe and sound!" Kanae inclined her head.

Himejima reminded them again and again that if they wanted to stay in the house, they must light wisteria incense at night.

"Thank you! We will definitely do that!" then Kanae said in a somewhat strange tone: "I wish you luck in battle..."

Shinobu, however, said nothing. She was angry with him. Damn angry. First, he presents himself as a good and honest man, and then he acts like this. Although she wasn't just angry, she was... disappointed. That terrible feeling. Broken expectations.

"Let's just move it already."

Well then. It was time for them to begin.

***

Himejima returned from his mission and, with an incredibly surprised look on his face, headed towards them.

Shinobu barely got to her feet. She was just so — So terribly — tired. Her arms hurt and burned as if from fire. They were covered in blood. Her clothes were slightly torn and covered in dirt. Her body ached, sending pulses to different parts.

"Ah, Mr. Himejima... Welcome back!" she said in a tired tone.

Next to her, Kanae uncertainly stood up, and, just as before Himejima left on his mission, she inclined her head and greeted him:

"Welcome back. How wonderful that you returned unharmed."

Shinobu saw that Himejima noticed the boulder's position had changed. She exchanged a glance with Kanae and smiled at her.

And she also terribly wanted to just scream in Himejima's face:

IN YOUR FACE! IN YOUR FACE! IN YOUR FACE!

But she restrained herself.

"A lever..." said Himejima.

"Correct!"

First, they dug a sufficiently deep hole under the boulder, then inserted a rod, which became the fulcrum, and after that, they placed a round log next to the boulder to use as a support.

Using the principle of the lever, even if the sisters didn't have such great strength, they were still able to move such a large stone.

"You... you thought of this yourselves?"

"Didn't I say it before? My sister and I have our brains in the right place!" Shinobu declared in a satisfied tone. "However... sigh... we failed several times."

Shinobu placed her hands on top of Himejima's hands.

"So? What do you say?"

Shinobu wanted to rejoice and shout with happiness, but after Himejima didn't answer, exhaustion washed over her.

No matter how much she wanted to be rude to him or something else, she understood that even if they did everything that came to his mind, he could simply refuse them. Everything was in his hands and depended on his decision. He had already let them down once, and if they were a bit dumber, they'd be walking home right now.

So what's stopping him from doing it again? Maybe he won't hide behind the fact that he supposedly gave them a chance to prove themselves and will just kick them out of the house.

"Mr. Himejima didn't say we couldn't use a lever."

She was already prepared for life to knock the ground out from under her feet once more.

"Well... a promise is a promise."

So far, so good.

"Exactly!"

Himejima placed his hand on the girl's head.

"I acknowledge you, children."

As soon as he finished speaking, Shinobu relaxed her small body, which had clearly been tense.

"Really?"

"Yes..."

"So... You will help us meet a trainer?"

"I will direct both of you to the most respected and wise masters."

After Himejima made his promise, Shinobu shouted in delight:

"That's great!"

Kanae sighed with relief. Shinobu hugged him, and Himejima, surprised, opened his eyes wide but smiled.

"Kanae, Shinobu... you both did well."

It was the first time he had addressed them by name. Shinobu blushed at the remark, while Kanae smiled calmly. The next morning, the girls went to their respective tutors.

Chapter Text

September 20, 1914

When Shinobu stepped into her mentor’s estate, she knew instantly this was no ordinary man.  

Where a training dojo should’ve been stood rows of two-person student desks. Dead center at the front sat the teacher’s podium, backed by a deep blue chalkboard.  

"Well… not what I expected, but I suppose it makes sense", she mused. After seeing Himejima’s dwelling, she’d already pieced together a rough idea of a demon slayer’s lifestyle.  

She reread the letter Himejima had sent that morning delivered, to her horror, by a talking crow. She made a mental note to revisit that later.  

Dear Shinobu,  

I asked an acquaintance to pen this, as you know I cannot write myself. Your mentor is Jubey Akira. Be polite. Please. I’ve never met him personally, but his reputation as an instructor precedes him.  

Wishing you success and the best of luck. May you pass the Final Selection.  

Sincerely,  

Himejima Gyomei. 

Yes, she was surprised a blind man could send a letter. Still, at least he hadn’t forgotten her. That was… nice.  

"God, what are you doing here?" A displeased voice called down from above.  

"Huh?" She whipped around irritably and found herself face-to-chest with a tall blond, green eyes narrowed.  

"I was told to greet the new student. I expected someone… more standard for a slayer."  

"My deepest apologies for shattering your expectations," she snipped sarcastically.  

"Let’s not start. I’m Takumi Renji. I know who you are."  

"Charmed. And what are you doing here?"  

"My family’s hunted demons for generations. Becoming a slayer’s inevitable."  

"How lovely."  

So entire bloodlines specialize in this? Raising children just to send them to die, that’s what these families are. 

The lanky boy gestured toward a door on the right (an office?) and strode forward. Shinobu followed.  

"Takumi, leave us," said a middle-aged man with his back to them. His private room was… impressive.  

Books— sо many books — lined the walls. A rack displayed katana of various styles beside a chessboard. Newspaper clippings plastered the windows, drowning the room in gloom.  

"Sit," Jubey motioned to a chair against the wall. As she settled, he continued, "I’ll share the fundamentals about these creatures. Demons are carnivores who consume human flesh. Sunlight is lethal, confining them to the night. They possess immense strength and rapid regeneration, rendering ordinary weapons useless. Those who’ve eaten many humans develop Blood Demon Arts — unique magical abilities. Humans become demons by ingesting the blood of Kibutsuji Muzan, the first and strongest demon. Even slayers can turn. I once knew a man fought alongside him for months only to see him become one of those monstrosities days later. He too manifested a Blood Demon Art."  

Shinobu stayed silent, grasping for words before finally forcing out, "I’m almost afraid to ask… but what do these ‘Arts’ look like?"  

"Yesterday, I encountered a demon that spat massive fireballs."  

Jubey turned to see Shinobu’s stunned expression, then she erupted.  

"How can such vampiric entities exist? Why humans? Everything they gain from us proteins, fats, carbs, they could get from regular food! Groceries exist! No need to devour people! Why this obsession with us?! Blood Demon Arts?  Are you serious? Doesn’t that defy basic physics? Take conservation of energy: energy can’t be created or destroyed, only transformed. Where’d he get the energy without fuel combustion or an electric field? And Newton’s first law: objects at rest stay at rest; objects in motion stay in motion unless acted upon. How’d he curve fireballs midair with no external force? Absurd! Newton’s third law? For every action, an equal reaction! Cannons recoil when fired. Rockets push exhaust downward. Flamethrowers require bracing! Why didn’t his head snap off? If no recoil affected him, it should’ve affected space, but nothing happened! Don’t get me started on thermodynamics! Summoning fire from nowhere reduces entropy in a closed system! And you’re telling me all this: breaking fundamental laws of physics, of cosmic order stems from eating human macronutrients they already possess? Demons look vaguely human, albeit mutated. They have proteins, carbs, fats, iron, calcium. Plus, we carry microbes and waste! Where’d their superhuman traits come from? Regeneration that conjures muscle, blood, and bone from nothing? Sunlight kills them, so they’re nocturnal. But moonlight is reflected sunlight! Why doesn’t that kill them? This feels like the Mandela Effect - mass hallucination. Maybe demons aren’t real… God, that’d be wonderful. They keep shattering my worldview, fueling this awful derealization. And Muzan… turning others via his blood? Blood! A transport system for oxygen and nutrients! Red blood cells carry hemoglobin to bind O₂ and CO₂. Blood removes waste, regulates temperature, maintains homeostasis, provides structural support! And Muzan’s blood just… rewrites biology? To create monsters that kill more humans? My father would roll in his grave. Regenerating a head requires energy rivaling a thermonuclear blast. Humans lack such power sources. How does he instantly rewrite DNA? HIV takes months to alter genomes. Demonization requires dissolving and rebuilding every cell, flawlessly re-encoding 25,000 genes while reshaping bones, brains, muscles, organs! That demands a dedicated synthesizing organ. Muzan’s blood can’t be universal. It must: destroy human cells; build demonic ones; control tissue growth, fangs, claws, etc. But blood isn’t an organ factory! Foreign blood usually causes rejection. So either this is nonsense, or Muzan’s blood is literal magic. Then why do humans still exist? This should spread like an epidemic, exponential growth where new cases multiply daily. More infected → faster spread. I just… can’t fathom it…"  

Jubey stared, jaw slack. Her tirade left him speechless save for:  

"Wow… That’s a first."  

***  

He promised answers during class with his other students. She agreed (as if she had a choice).  

Shinobu missed Himejima. She’d long imagined he would train her, and again, reality crushed her expectations.  

She arrived early, plucking William Morris’ "The Well at the World’s End", the first fantasy novel ever written, from a shelf. When she’d first heard of it, she’d dismissed it as myth, like the Norse tales she occasionally read.  

Shinobu would never admit that among gods like Thor, Odin, Heimdall, and Frigg, she favored Loki. His cunning and mischief drew her in. He wasn’t purely good, but frankly, she didn’t care. He was clever and witty, so if anyone dared judge her choice, that was their problem.  

The room gradually filled with… students? Some wore formal attire, others slayer uniforms, a few in training kimono. Apparently, some graduates still attended their teacher’s lessons.  

Jubey entered.  

"Welcome to Critical Thinking. You know how I value analyzing information, scrutinizing its reliability, logic, and validity. We won’t blindly accept or reject ideas. We’ll dissect them: seek evidence, evaluate arguments, form conclusions. Today, our new student Shinobu Kocho voiced her… thoughts on the absurdity of demons’ existence. Despite witnessing them firsthand, she made no effort to answer her own questions."  

Every eye turned to Shinobu. Some smirking, others gloating. She felt no shame, she never did, and met Jubey’s gaze defiantly. He smiled back, short black hair framing his smug face.  

"Today’s topic is—" He turned to the board, writing in flawless, bold script:  

SUNLIGHT: WHY IT HEALS AND HARMS 

"The most elegant handwriting I’ve ever seen", Shinobu noted.  

Jubey faced them.  

"It’s about ultraviolet radiation. The sun emits intense UV. Even after atmospheric filtering, the ozone layer, enough reaches Earth to damage DNA, cause mutations, and destroy organic compounds. That kills demons. The moon reflects just 3-12% of sunlight, its UV component absorbed by lunar regolith and scattered in space." He spoke slowly, each word a hammerblow: You never considered this, did you? Shinobu stared, transfixed. "Earth receives negligible lunar UV, thousands of times less than solar. Of course, this is unverified. The fools running the Demon Slayer Corps can’t even spell, let alone grasp elementary science. If demons ‘fear’ UV, sunlight kills them while moonlight doesn’t… because its UV dose is too weak."  

Shinobu applauded. She couldn’t help it. Takumi shot her a odd look, then joined in. Like dominoes, the room erupted in clapping.  

Jubey continued.  

"The only way to kill a demon is beheading with a Nichirin blade. Swordsmen train for years to pass Final Selection and join the Corps. But naturally—" He eyed Shinobu pointedly, "—this varies by individual."  

Her confidence evaporated. Everyone here thought she’d fail Final Selection, let alone hunt demons regularly. Even when she’d entered, Takumi Renji had nearly laughed at Himejima sending her to Jubey Akira.  

"Why only Nichirin blades?" Shinobu raised her hand like in school.  

"The ore is mined from sun-drenched mountains. Saturation with solar energy is what forges demon-slaying swords."  

"Will you focus on Breathing Techniques?" asked a boy to her right.  

"I’ll teach you to think. It’s time to stop breeding idiots. You won’t be mission fodder. You’ll be analytical. And I’ll ensure it."

Chapter Text

December 18, 1914  

***

Dear Shinobu,  

Being apart feels lonelier than I imagined. It’s strange spending so much time without family, without hearing your voice or seeing your face. I miss you terribly.  

My teacher is wonderful, a former Hashira! Himejima truly came through. Each day starts with a long run around the village, followed by endless drills. He insists physical conditioning is paramount for a slayer.  

I hope your training goes well and you’re staying healthy.  

With love,  

Kanae Kochо 

***

***

Kanae,  

Glad you have a decent teacher, but rest assured, mine’s superior. True, he never made Hashira, but crucially, he has a brain (a rare trait, metaphorically speaking).  

No tedious focus on brute strength here. Akira Jūbei prioritizes strategy, a policy I fully endorse.  

How are your social prospects? Mine are… neutral. Jubei teaches civilians who won’t join the Corps but want demon knowledge. "Forewarned is forearmed!" as he says.  

Best,  

Shinobu Kocho

***

***

Dearest Shinobu,  

Another month apart, and I see this life more clearly. Many students come to my master… but few return. Sometimes I wonder: Is this right?

Nine-year-old girls should play in sandboxes, not plot demon extermination. It grieves me that our world demands this.  

Stay safe,  

Kanae Kocho 

***

***

Kanae, must you regress? I’m torn between fury at your naivety and irritation at your sudden "wisdom." You’re twelve. Don’t posture like my elder. You deserved a normal life too, yet here we are.  

"Poor demons"? We watched them tear our parents apart! Your compassion will destroy you. I thought you’d accepted your path, a demon slayer can’t pity those abominations.  

Shinobu Kocho

***  

Had she been older, Shinobu might’ve fallen for Akira Jubei. When demons didn’t occupy her thoughts, he did.  

Jūbei was brilliant. Gloriously so. Even her father had seemed foolish at times, though perhaps that was just parenthood.  

He rarely drilled physical prowess. Instead, he taught strategy, critical thinking, a perfect match for her mind.  

Yet Shinobu felt… unwell. Not ill, but wrong.  

She’d never carried such hatred. It was exhausting. A leaden weight. Daily lectures about demons resurrected images of her parents’ slaughter.  

And the nightmares persisted. Relentless. Sleep had always eluded her, even at home, warm and safe. Too hot, too cold, too much. Yet the dreams found her anyway. Precise. Vicious.  

She clung to mornings. Jūbei’s lessons made living bearable.  

***

"Today’s topic," Jūbei turned to the chalkboard:  

Why Demons Consume Humans 

Shinobu nearly whistled, why restrain herself?  

"Thank you, Miss Kocho, for your… enthusiasm. You’re not alone." Takumi sat beside her today. Progress.  

"Demonic abilities - accelerated regeneration, abnormal physiology, demand immense nutrients. Proteins for tissue repair. Fats for energy and cell membranes. Glycogen for rapid fuel. Et cetera."  

Shinobu pondered. Jubei claimed demons sensed fear. Was adrenaline, cortisol from adrenal glands, a delicacy? Did terror heighten their feast?  

"Biologically, demons are parasites. They extract human resources like predators… or leeches."  

Leeches, definitely.  

"How do demons reproduce?" Takumi whispered, derailing her focus.  

Annoying.  

"You know turning requires Muzan’s blood."  

"Not that," Takumi’s brow lifted suggestively.  

Gods. Shinobu had read… inappropriate texts.  

"Likely depends on their… physical adaptations."  

"Maybe they do it weirdly?" Rei chimed in.  

"Define ‘weirdly’?" asked Takumi.  

"Like… men with men?"  

"Blasphemy," Takumi hissed too loudly. "Against nature!"  

"I saw male macaques kiss at the zoo. Nature disagrees," Shinobu countered.  

"Such creatures decrease the population—"  

"They stabilize it. Now quiet."  

"KOCHO!" Jubei’s voice cracked like a whip.  

"Damn it." Shinobu pinched her nose.  

"Front and center!"  

She trudged to the board, dreading his next move.  

"Since distraction amuses you… a test." He faced the class. "Who here is the most dangerous future slayer?"  

Names flew, mostly Takumi’s. Shinobu braced.  

"What if I said… she stands before me?" Jubei gestured to her.  

Snickers erupted. A girl barely over a meter tall, a threat?  

"Shinobu. An opponent stands before you. How do you prevail?"  

She paused.  

"Depends on the opponent. Say… a middle-aged man. I’d assess his height, weight, combat tells, psychological triggers, blind spots. Then…" Her voice turned clinical. "Stun him first. Strike the larynx, weakest point. When he’s incapacitated… finish the strangulation."  

Silence.  

"Do you grasp why she’s the most dangerous here?" Jubei’s gaze swept the room. No one spoke.  

"Shinobu," he softened—almost sadly. "Where did I say ‘kill him’? He was merely an opponent."  

"I—" She faltered. "You implied combat. I optimized efficiency—"  

"Self-justification. You set murder as your baseline." His words hung, sharp as knives. "Studying weaknesses is wise… but if they overpower you, avoid engagement. If you *must* strike first, be certain of their intent—lest you become a tyrant. Or a fool."  

"No plan survives contact. If facts contradict your model, adapt the model. If you fight… always have an exit strategy."  

Chapter Text

January 3, 1914

***

Dearest Shinobu,

An eternity has passed since we last met! How I miss you... Each day I push myself beyond limits to meet our master's demands. My body aches endlessly, and my hands still rebel against the sword's weight.

I've never liked weapons.

They say demon slayer training takes about a year. Sometimes longer. Six months have already slipped by! The end must be near.

Yours always,  

Kanae

***

***

Dear Kanae,

All goes splendidly here! My studies with our teacher continue. I'll admit, I expected worse, but it's been surprisingly pleasant.

I train, though not as intensely as you. Many older students here - I suspect they'll attempt Final Selection soon. Grip your sword tighter!

Warmly,  

Shinobu

***

***

My dear Shinobu,

Whenever I grasp my sword, Mother's words about weapons return to me. She despised them so... I fear I betray her memory by wielding this katana for killing. I'm just... uncertain.

Kanae

***

***

Kanae!

What absolute nonsense!

We've had this conversation a hundred times! Demons aren't human! How can you pity those monsters? Remember, Mother was merely human and could be wrong. Her death didn't sanctify her words. And she stood in a different place than we do. Don't forget our oath to each other - 

we must honor it.

Shinobu.

***

When practical training began, Shinobu immediately found herself at the bottom. Expected, yet still... stung.

Nearly all of Jūbei Akira's students were boys - most grown men, all towering over her. Her height, her build, her very bones conspired against her. 

Takumi Renji sat alone atop the victor's mountain, far outpacing the others. Poor dear. 

The class revered him, and he basked in their admiration. 

She made little effort to befriend anyone - perhaps she should have.

***

"Miss Kocho..." Gods! Such formality! "What does it mean to be a demon slayer?" Jubei Akira's voice carried theatrical weight.

"To the best of my understanding as one not yet inducted..." Shinobu paused. "I believe it involves rescuing civilians from attacks and raiding demon nests. After all, sometimes demons occupy homes or dark spaces to wait out daylight."

"An apt observation, yet you miss the core truth." Jubei's gaze sharpened. "Slayers don't save people - they kill demons. That is our prime directive. Because a slayer's life is war. Do you know the current state of global affairs?"

"The Great War has begun," a student called out.

"Correct. Japan is now embroiled, and even market prices wound our people. Though worse may come." Jubei's voice dropped. "But remember - this is only the beginning. A slayer's life is war. From the moment you join the Corps until your dying breath - you are at war. Every year, every month, every second. Even those rare souls who survive to old age without encountering an Upper Moon continue living as soldiers. They know - while they sleep safely, others die fighting demons. So they train successors, desperate to aid the cause."

The class sat in rare silence. Jūbei commanded attention effortlessly.

"Countless conflicts rage as we speak. The Anti-Pisarist Rebellion in Dagestan. Ecuador's civil war. The Lysva Uprising. The Phocaea massacre. Japan's first naval clash with German forces in the Pacific... All within recent months." He sighed. "I didn't expend every favor and connection I possess just to hear daily death tolls."

Shinobu reevaluated her teacher. A man with no formal education, never officially enlisted - yet his intelligence network spanned continents. This was the art of persuasion made manifest.

"But a slayer's life isn't just hearing of deaths. It's witnessing them daily." Suddenly Jubei looked decades older.

War. To Shinobu, it had always been abstraction. She'd read histories brimming with glorious battles, studied soldiers' memoirs analyzing frontline horrors. Intellectual exercises, all. Read, considered, forgotten.

Yet Jubei spoke truth. War hadn't come to her through newsprint - it had smashed into her life when her parents died. That night, half-consciously, she'd chosen the Corps. And sealed her fate.

"Understand war before joining the Corps," Jubei's gaze swept the room, lingering on Shinobu. "Those not committed to becoming slayers - leave now."

Over half the class departed in a scrape of chairs. Fewer than ten remained.

"Excellent. I'll contact associates with apprentices. For you... I've prepared specialized training."

Shinobu leaned forward, elbows on desk.

"We will hold competitions. - battlе across varied terrain to master warfare's artistry."

Holy hell.

"This week we'll elect a commanding officer to name their battalion. The victor may claim any reward."

That would be Shinobu.

Chapter Text

January 7, 1915

"So, what do you make of all this?" Renji swung his legs from his perch atop the tree. 

Shinobu had climbed slightly lower — just because she felt like it. 

"I think there's method to his madness," she said after a pause. "Jubei understands the art of war better than most."

They would soon be pitted against each other in mock armies, battling fellow aspiring slayers. Unorthodox, but after everything she'd witnessed, little could surprise Shinobu anymore. 

Jubei Akira was eccentric enough to defy all predictions. At least he explained the demon world's rules clearly. 

Renji spoke of his family's training—years of isolation on mountains where many perished in their first real battle. The Final Selection on Mount Fujikasane was, in Shinobu's estimation, the world's most idiotic institution. 

The Demon Slayer Corps pursued extermination at any cost, breeding training methods that bordered on brutality. Zenkoshi Renji, Takumi's late father and former instructor, had employed backbreaking trials: running with boulders, sparring to unconsciousness, training through extreme cold and starvation. Most mentors followed similar regimens. Kanae had such a teacher. Of course she called him kind—Kanae would call a rabid dog affectionate. 

Shinobu was nine. She might have endured the same, were it not for Himejima's intervention. Children suffered hazing while mentors turned blind eyes to abuse. 

At Final Selection, thirty might enter while only a handful emerged. The survival rate hovered at five percent. In all the Corps' history, no leader had ever reconsidered this meat grinder. 

Everything hinged on subjective assessments from mentors who simply declared: "I deem them ready." One former Hashira, Urokodaki, had lost every student sent to the mountain. Yet he kept training new recruits for slaughter. Rumor spoke of a demon there—one far beyond novice slayers' capabilities. No aptitude tests existed. Worse still, anyone could attempt the trial untrained. Takumi told her of a fool who stumbled upon the Selection, assumed himself genius incarnate, and arrived with just a katana. He died screaming. The Corps monitored nothing, letting nature cull the weak. 

"This is how true warriors are forged," Takumi had said. 

*"And how many die before their first real mission?"* Shinobu thought bitterly. 

Rather than sending recruits into demon-infested mountains, controlled trials could assess skills without such waste. Survival often depended on luck—avoiding stronger demons entirely. 

This wasn't selection. It was sacrificial filtration. 

The Corps knowingly spent lives to sift out "the strongest." 

And the horror? Everyone accepted this as normal. When Shinobu polled classmates about the Selection, none shared her outrage. Only she questioned why—after a thousand years—no humane alternatives existed. 

The Demon Slayer Corps employed inhuman methods to defeat inhuman foes. 

Did "higher purpose" justify such cruelty?

***

"I've written to fellow slayers. Their students arrive in days. Our first battle commences on the 15th." 

Jubei rocked his chair, staring at the ceiling. Today, teaching seemed to bore him. 

"I'll appoint our army's general." 

The class stirred. Eight would participate—all committed to becoming slayers. Who would lead them? 

Jubei's piercing gaze swept the room... and landed on Shinobu. No.  

"Shinobu Kochō. Step forward." He gestured to the podium. 

The classroom erupted. Even non-combatants shouted protests, waving indignant hands. 

Discomfort prickled Shinobu's skin as she walked through the uproar. 

"I chose Shinobu for her analytical mind. She alone might secure us second place." 

Turning to him, she murmured, "Such outrage." 

Secretly, she thrilled at this. Jubei Akira, of all students, had noticed her. The unexpected honor left her giddy. 

A glare from Akira silenced the room. 

"Shinobu," he spoke for her ears alone, "against demons, you'll rely solely on intellect and strategy. Unlike most slayers, strength won't save you. This is your chance to hone that edge." 

She knew. Her physique might never reach even mediocrity. Strategy was her only weapon. 

She still didn't know how to behead demons. Her strikes lacked force, though Jūbei admitted her form surpassed every boy's—hands steady, movements precise. But bamboo training dummies remained uncut. She trusted time would bridge the gap. 

"Understand, if you fail here, they'll never forgive you." 

"They'll beat me to death with wooden katanas. Yes, I know." For no reason, she smiled. 

Jubei smirked and turned back to the class. 

***

Days later, slayers and their students arrived. Three teams of eigh, Jubei had balanced the numbers carefully. 

Team One, led by "Ruthless" Rentaro Kaito, lived up to their uninspired name. 

Team Two, under Hayate Hibaru, chose "Werewolves", marginally better, Shinobu conceded. 

Takumi and others begged her for a worthy team name. Not too flashy, not too convoluted. She obliged. 

On January 10, 1915, the world gained: 

The Legion of Transgressive Alchemists, Entropy's Voice for Nonconformist Sphinxes

Chapter Text

January 15, 1915, 12:07 PM

Each team captain was issued a unique uniform set, unlike their soldiers, who received the most standard camouflage jumpsuits.

The General of the Merciless, Rentaro Kaito, had requested that his emblem be a multitude of katanas piercing a demon. Shinobu hadn't forgotten to mention how clichéd and trite that was, but she secretly envied Rentaro to the point of pain.

The General of the Werewolves, Hayate Hibaru, took as his emblem the face of a wolf with an atom held in its teeth.

Then there was Shinobu. And she took an atom as her emblem.

Actually, that idiot took a positively charged atomic nucleus, while hers was a negatively charged atom. Well, that's a minor detail. For Hayate. For Shinobu, it's unforgivable, so it was easier for her to think his idea had nothing to do with hers.

The Legion of Transgressive Alchemists, Posited by the Entropic Voice of Nonconformist Sphinxes, was abbreviated to "LTVNS," which was still difficult for some to remember. Fortunately, she didn't know what they were called behind her back, and so she prepared for the upcoming battle with a clear conscience.

All the generals of the opposing sides found themselves on one level, where, for now, no one stood out. The battle would take place on an open section of the plains, where students not participating in the battles sat on either side of the designated area.

All opponents would be able to see each other unimpeded, and in the end, the battle consisted of an ordinary melee. Hayate had not only chosen patches on the jumpsuits like everyone else but had also hung colored ribbons on his soldiers to recognize them from a distance. Apparently, he wasn't concerned that these ribbons could easily fall into the hands of the other team generals.

And right now, war would break out between them.

Shinobu stood on a very large clearing, shifting from foot to foot. She was the youngest not only in her legion but in the entire Jubei's artel. Piles of snow lay around, reminding everyone that it was the middle of winter. Running would be difficult.

Shinobu looked back at the soldiers of LTVNS. Takumi was poking the mud with a wooden katana. She wanted to break into such a wide smile that if she did, she would surely split her lips. He had ended up under her command. Takumi was obliged to serve her.

Ha-ha!

But she had made him her chief advisor anyway. After all, he was good and had spent a lot of time in Jubei's classes.

Five minutes until start. Jubei approached a point equidistant from each legion and loudly repeated the words he had said a little earlier:

"THE BATTLE WILL BEGIN IN A FEW MINUTES! EACH TEAM MUST DESTROY THE OTHER WITHOUT FALLING THEMSELVES! NO RULES! THE MAIN THING IS NOT TO STRIKE BLOWS INCOMPATIBLE WITH LIFE. USE ONLY PERMITTED TECHNIQUES!"

Jubei left the battlefield. All teams prepared. The clearing was large, so Shinobu could only see the blurred silhouettes of the Werewolves team (thanks to the ribbons), who were currently marching in place, following all their leader's instructions, and she couldn't really make out even the outlines of the Merciless.

LTVNS had small purple elements on their uniforms because it was winter anyway, and camouflage didn't make much sense.

Taking out soldiers from another team was only possible by a strike to the back of the head, which temporarily stunned people (a strike to the back of the head doesn't knock a person out in real life, if it does, it only means the person has a serious head injury), after which the person was obliged to leave the battlefield themselves.

Hinata—a guy with hair as white as snow—was holding his katana with trembling hands. Shinobu rolled her eyes. This guy was too cowardly; he was afraid of everything. And he wanted to be a demon slayer. Amazing.

"So, what's our tactic?" asked Takumi in a demonstratively bored tone.

"Keep our distance, attack carefully," replied Shinobu.

"And that's our strategy? Maybe we should just surrender to them right away so we don't embarrass ourselves with a general like you?" Kazuki smirked mockingly.

God, what an annoying cretin he was! He was one of those people who had shouted the loudest in anger when Shinobu was appointed general.

"Maybe I should prescribe something for you right away, Kazuki? So we don't embarrass ourselves with a subordinate like you," Shinobu retorted just as cheekily, emphasizing the last word.

Takumi snorted into his hand.

"Damn Shinobu, can't do a damn thing on your own, but puts on airs like who knows what," Kazuki shoved her shoulder (which almost sent her flying) and angrily trudged away.

"Idiot," exhaled Takumi, clearly displeased.

She didn't know the exact strategy herself. The General of the Merciless could either attack the Werewolves and then try to break her forces, or attack her immediately. The General of the Werewolves would notice this and might side with the Merciless. The smaller team would lose a greater number of soldiers if they even managed to escape an attack by two armies at once. So she was afraid to act without information.

"The Werewolves clearly want to attack you," Takumi circled her a few times.

"Or, he wants to break the Merciless' front and then fight us in a fair duel," replied Shinobu.

Although in a battle, they could lose their soldiers, and then the fight wouldn't be equal.

"We'll play it by ear."

***

Five minutes passed. They didn't have a set time limit for the battle, it would end when everyone was down, but no one wanted to drag it out.

Shinobu dropped to her stomach and moved forward, gesturing the way for her soldiers. Over a few days of training, she had managed to drill the basics into them: protect your comrades' backs and trust them with yours, follow all instructions.

"Takumi and I will crawl forward to scout out our enemies' plans. You must stay on alert! Advance slowly behind us!"

Shinobu didn't know exactly about the tactics chosen by the other generals. Hayate was clearly against her. But would he want to attack first? As for Rentaro, she knew nothing. They hadn't been introduced to each other, and all the future slayers were staying in the nearby village.

They crawled on their elbows, staying as close to the ground as possible. Shinobu could already see that the soldiers of the Merciless had split into two parts. Rentaro wanted to attack two teams at once. But what was the point? If four people attacked eight, the smaller team would suffer greater losses.

Shinobu looked back at her soldiers. They were quietly crawling about ten meters behind her.

A sharp sound rang out a hundred meters from LTVNS: a Merciless soldier pounced on a Werewolf soldier. A magnificent battle began between them. The Werewolf was a user of Thunder Breathing and was striking with incredible speed at the Merciless soldier, who, apparently, didn't know any Breathing Style at all.

Shinobu pulled herself away from watching the duel in time, turning to her soldiers.

"The Merciless army has split into two parts! One has already clashed with the Werewolves, so we'll have to fight the second part," Shinobu said, not loudly but not quietly either.

They had to prepare. The Merciless army would attack them soon.

Five Werewolves had already joined the fight, striking the four Merciless soldiers. Three were standing aside, just watching.

Suddenly, from behind, from the forest, the second part of the Merciless soldiers jumped out at them. Oh, fuck. The Merciless hadn't split into two parts to attack two armies at once. In the middle, they changed direction and attacked the Werewolf legion. Shinobu exhaled nervously. The main thing was that it wasn't them.

The Werewolf army lost three soldiers. The Merciless army lost four. Shinobu still had a full legion.

It was time to act.

LTVNS attacked the Merciless army, but instead of waiting for the end of the duel and fighting the weakened army, the Werewolf legion also joined the battle.

Hayate, side by side with his chief strategist, fought against Takumi, who had extensive experience in Water Breathing, taught by Jubei. Even two against one couldn't defeat him.

Hinata was wrestling in the hands of some Werewolf, but Shinobu didn't pay attention to it because the General of the Merciless was already flying at her.

"Come here, Kocho!" shouted Rentaro and lunged at her shin.

"Damn it!" Rentaro groaned as a precise strike from Shinobu hit him in the side. It didn't resemble any technique, it was more like something from fencing. "Who even fights like that?!"

"Guess," Shinobu said coldly, delivering a thrust to his solar plexus.

Rentaro doubled over in pain and at the same moment received a blow to the back of his head.

Hayate and his strategist set upon the LTVNS legion. The two of them were delivering strong blows to the heads, and Shinobu wanted to scream. The strategist was good, Hayate clearly hadn't appointed him to that position for nothing. They seemed to be friends.

The LTVNS legion suddenly began to lose ground under the pressure of the Werewolves. Apparently, they had decided to overwhelm her with numbers.

"We need to retreat!" shouted Takumi, grabbing Shinobu's hand.

Her soldiers were falling one after another, and she imagined that if this were a real fight, they would already be dead. She felt sick, so she tried to remind herself as quickly as possible that this was just a show.

***

Having moved twenty meters away from the enemies, she surveyed the soldiers surrounding her on all sides. Takumi, breathing heavily, lay on the ground. Someone was bent over, hands on knees; someone had squatted down. Six soldiers remained. She had lost two in that skirmish. All the Werewolves were standing far from them.

Damn.

Her hands burned as if from fire, and her clothes were completely soaked from the snow. It was cold, and her whole body ached. The icy air entered her heated lungs and burned.

"Hey, Hinata, give me some water," Takumi extended a hand.

Hinata was sitting with his back to them and was completely covered in snow, so his already white hair became even lighter. Shinobu approached them to discuss strategy. She wasn't ashamed that she had wanted Hinata to be the one to fall in the duele, after all, their army had lost valuable soldiers.

And suddenly the world slowed down. Hinata reached not for the water bottle on his belt but for his katana. He made a sharp strike right at her, and only thanks to her excellent reflexes did Shinobu manage to dodge. But, unfortunately, the blow hit Takumi right in the face.

What the hell?!

Takumi collapsed to the ground.

Oh! It wasn't Hinata!

"Idiots," the Werewolf soldier was dressed in their uniform.

The Werewolf had shapeshifted into an LTVNS soldier. Ironic.

She looked back at Hayate, who was currently holding a tied-up Hinata. During the fight, they had grabbed Hinata, put Werewolf identification ribbons on him so Shinobu wouldn't be suspicious of one soldier missing from their ranks, and then sent a Werewolf to them, having removed his ribbons. He was also a blond, but with slightly more straw-colored hair. Because of the snow, this wasn't visible.

They had taken out the fake Hinata. But the Werewolves had taken her chief advisor from her. And Hinata.

Shinobu had four soldiers left.

"They sent one of theirs to us?! Where's Hinata?!" came a voice from the army.

"We need to target the weakest army now," Shinobu turned to the enemies, who had grouped up and were approaching them. "Motherfucker!"

They considered her the weakest. After the appearance of the Werewolf, the LTVNS legion was still bewildered, trying to comprehend what had happened.

Hayate stood next to his chief strategist. The Werewolf Legion and the Merciless Legion were already close to the LTVNS legion.

"What are your orders?" asked one of her subordinates.

Two armies were coming at them. Too few soldiers to fight back.

Although the two armies had chosen her as their target, they still kept their distance from each other. The LTVNS legion began to retreat in different directions on Shinobu's orders.

Hayate turned to his strategist, smiling. Apparently, everything was going according to plan for them. As soon as he turned back, the Strategist delivered a precise blow to the back of the Werewolf General's head.

The Strategist had betrayed Hayate.

"Bingo!" shouted Shinobu, throwing her hands up.

The eliminated soldiers were watching the battle from outside the designated territory.

Chaos ensued. The Werewolves couldn't understand why their soldier had betrayed his general. The Merciless were left without a commander back in the previous duel, so they were just trying to figure out what to do. After all, they had no general.

In the end, both teams concluded that Shinobu was to blame for everything. The Strategist successfully switched to her side, and the Werewolves lost two at once.

The two teams rushed at one, and the next moment, every soldier of the Werewolf and Merciless teams fell into handmade wolf pits.

Silence fell, and only inside Shinobu, everything was screaming with happiness. Jubei had repeated several times: "NO RULES!"—so Shinobu had squeezed the maximum out of that.

On the night of January 13-14, she made a long journey to the village where the arriving demon slayers were staying. She found the only slayer who had joined the Corps not for a noble goal but to feed his family and offered him a huge sum of money. The condition was his betrayal of his general. The Strategist agreed.

No one had forbidden traitors.

On the night of January 14-15, Shinobu spent several hours digging deep pits for future enemies. They were deep enough that one couldn't get out but those who fell in wouldn't receive serious injuries. During the battle, when she shouted the command to retreat, Shinobu deliberately led her soldiers to the right place, in front of which the pits were. Through manipulation, she led the enemies where she needed them.

And they lost.

After everyone realized what was happening, the remaining soldiers shouted for joy. Jubei and his students—the non-future-slayers—also ran over to her.

Shinobu was lifted above their heads and began to be tossed into the air. Even Takumi was jumping up and down like a little child.

She had won. Shinobu had won. And she was so—so terribly—happy.

Chapter Text

 It's been a long time since I rock and rolled,     It's been a long time since I did the Stroll.     Ooh, let me get it back, let me get it back.      Let me get it back, baby, where I come from.

—«Rock'n'roll» Led Zeppelin 

May 17, 1916 

Kanae had passed the final selection. Actually, it had been a long time. So much time had passed, but it was too fast for Shinobu to keep up with. It had been a year since her victory in the war, and she had celebrated two birthdays. She was now eleven years old. It seemed like an incredible amount of time.

***  

«Dear Shinobu! 

I've completed one of the most challenging tasks I've ever had! I was injured by a demon, so I'm currently staying in a special hospital for demon slayers. 

I'm currently staying with Sanemi Shinazugawa! I told you about him earlier when we were training together with our mentor! 

He's a good guy, and he even reminds me of you! 

How are your training progress?

Your sister»

***  

Shinobu smirked.  

«Good guy, kind of reminds me of you.»

Hah.

Had Kanae learned to tease? That wasn’t like her.  

***  

Dear Kanae,

Everything’s fine here. We’ve moved to practical training, and lately, I can barely walk without pain. How are your injuries? Hope they’re not too serious and you recover quickly!

I’ve been trying to improve my physical conditioning.

Recently, Jubei, Takumi, and I went to a football match. God knows why. The whole point is guys running around kicking a ball into a net. Riveting. Though team sports are interesting, I guess. I enjoyed it. But Jūbei and Takumi spent three hours arguing about it on the way back. Awful! Turns out they supported rival teams, and my head was pounding by the end.

Your sister,

Shinobu

***  

***  

Dear Shinobu,

Yes, I know what football is! Father and I used to watch matches when you were too little. I’ve been thinking about your training. I know you excel in pharmaceuticals and medical texts, and I remember our promise to save people. But aren’t doctors heroes too? We could open a hospital, treat the wounded. I’d return from missions to see you in a white coat! How wonderful!

Tell me what you think.

Love,

Kanae

***  

Shinobu crumpled the letter, but didn’t throw it away. She knew why Kanae wanted a hospital.  

Because Shinobu was helpless.  

Kanae believed she’d never kill demons. That she’d remain weak, a useless orphan girl.  

She didn’t reply.  

Shinobu managed to get through the first six months without Kanae only thanks to the surprise of her beautiful teacher, Jubei Akira. He was a ray of light among the entire organization of demon slayers, because he had such a rare thing as a brain. He conducted theoretical lessons to explain the possibility of demons, and provided the youth with basic knowledge that could be useful to everyone: how to buy an estate, how to remove poison from a wound, and more. These were truly useful skills, with careful warnings about what not to do.

But then theory ended.  

After the war games, Jubei revealed himself as just another drill tyrant, with one difference: he understood biology. He knew when to rest, how to prevent burnout, what meals fueled growing bodies.  

***  

"Ten times better than my father," Takumi muttered, poking his breakfast with a fork.  

"No fiber in the mornings?" Shinobu asked, equally exhausted.  

Takumi smirked.  

"No. He had a… unique perspective on rest, Miss Virtuoso."

Shinobu grimaced.  

She’d earned that nickname days ago. During a sweltering training session, she’d sparred against a boy who — after months — still couldn’t master basics she’d grasped instantly. She ended up taping his hands to his katana.  

Amusing.

"He also worked us nonstop," Takumi continued. "Once threw us off a cliff into a lake."

"Why aren’t you buried in your backyard?" Shinobu asked, horrified.  

"Luck."

They ate in the classroom, Takumi hated it; Shinobu didn’t care.  

"We’re both off today, so I suggest—" She cut herself off, spotting a familiar figure across the room. "—we get revenge on Kazuki."  

Takumi lazily turned his head.  

Kazuki — green-eyed, dark-haired, perpetually disheveled — was acne-riddled despite Jūbei’s strict diet.  

"God," Takumi groaned. "You’re still on that?"

Kazuki had opposed Shinobu at every turn. Her very existence enraged him. Even after her war-game victory, he’d spread rumors she’d *slept with a girl from the Ruthless legion* to sabotage their general.  

Shinobu’s first reaction: "We’re both girls!"  

Then: "I’m nine! I couldn’t even if I wanted to!"

Finally: "Kazuki, are you insane?!"

She’d been too stunned to confront him then, but not now. 

"Everyone knows he’s an idiot," Takumi said.  

"He still deserves payback." She didn’t mention Kazuki’s latest taunt, how he’d cornered her between drills, spewing vitriol until she nearly strangled him.  

"For something that happened last year?"

"Better late than never."

Takumi shook his head.  

***  

After bribing one of Kazuki’s "friends" (he had no real ones), Shinobu acquired his belongings.  

"What’s the plan?" Takumi asked, unenthused.  

"Watch." She dumped Kazuki’s bag clothes, ink, shampoo. "Ohhh yes." 

"What? You’re gonna ink his clothes?"

"Too basic, monsieur." She grinned. "We’re making Kazuki bald."

Simple. Shinobu would brew a proper depilatory concoction. Kazuki — bereft of his "perfect hair" — would look like the fool he was.  

"What?! How?"  

"Easy. Lace his shampoo. Results in days."

"With what?!"

"Trust me."

***  

May 20, 1916  

Kazuki was fine. No changes. Not even discoloration. Shinobu glared from across the room.  

"Wow. Shocking," Takumi mocked.  

"What’s he talking about?" Hinata asked, inexplicably beside them.  

"Nothing."

"Did something happen?"

"No."

"Are you in trouble?"

"Piss off."

Shinobu wasn’t in the mood. The failed prank loomed over her, and Takumi’s jabs didn’t help.  

"So there was this one time..." Hinata launched into another "fascinating" anecdote. 

He always made everything about himself. Even when others shared struggles, he hijacked the conversation, demanding sympathy, for what? He’d never lost anyone. Never faced demons. Never witnessed death.  

Shinobu couldn’t even look at him, so she kept staring at Kazuki.  

"—then he fell into a sewer! Ever happen to you, Shinobu?"

"No."

"Really?! That’s crazy!"

"Imagine that."

"Whoa—Kochо’s in love with me!" Kazuki’s voice cut through the room.  

"What?"

While distracted by Hinata, Kazuki had approached.  

"See how she’s staring?" He grinned at his friend (the traitor who’d handed over his things).  

"Totally," the boy agreed.  

"Kazuki, even your mother wouldn’t look at you. What hope do you have?" Shinobu retorted.  

The idea of Kazuki being anything but repulsive was laughable.  

"Hear that—" He stepped closer.  

"We heard." Takumi stood, gripping Kazuki’s arm. "Now fuck off."  

"Kochо, leash your girlfriend." Kazuki yanked free.  

"Nah. Watching you whine is fun."

A crowd gathered, some eager for a fight, others ready to fetch Jūbei.  

"Says the girl who can’t even cut bamboo?" Kazuki sneered.  

"No. Says the girl who can do… this." She pointed finger-guns at him and "fired."  

Kazuki flinched.  

"The hell was that?" He laughed.  

"This."

As Kazuki jerked back, his hair began falling out.  

"What the—?!" He touched his head, a mistake.  

Clumps of hair came away in his hands, littering his shoulders and face.  

Shinobu and Takumi burst out laughing. The crowd gaped. Kazuki stared at his hands, then at Shinobu, then bolted.  

"I thought it failed."  

"Nope." Takumi wheezed, pounding her shoulder.  

"How did you—?"  

"Was that magic? You just shot him and his hair fell out!"

Questions and accusations flew.  

"That’s impossible!"  

"You’re a witch!"

Chapter Text

Hòpe — is a positively charged emotion that arises during the tense anticipation of a desired outcome, carrying the possibility of its fulfillment. It is a philosophical, religious, and cultural concept tied to the human experience of this emotional process.  

May 20, 1916

Thud, clang, crash-bang, splat, wham, whoosh, squish, boom, tick, clink, dzing.

She still hadn’t reached the required level of physical conditioning. Cutting through objects was unbearably difficult. Takumi, for example, could already split a boulder in half with a single strike. All she had left were bamboo shutters. And as for what to do about it, she had no idea.  

Jubei had taught her the Total Concentration Breathing technique a couple of months ago, and ever since, she’d been trying to maintain it constantly. It was excruciatingly hard. Sometimes, it felt like her eardrums were about to burst or her lungs were atrophying, forcing Shinobu to her knees, begging for it to stop. But even that could be endured.  

Saturating her body with enough oxygen had helped her progress in training, but it still hadn’t yielded significant results. The only thing she could think of was to ask Jubei. He had to know how to solve this problem.  

"No clue."  

"What?!"  

"I warned Himejima you wouldn’t be able to decapitate demons. He agreed with me but said you’d keep trying anyway. And even if I kicked you out, you’d probably do something stupid."  

A pang of betrayal shot through Shinobu. Even after proving to Himejima that she could do the impossible, moving a massive boulder with sheer willpower, he still didn’t believe in her. Amazing.  

"If we were at a dead end either way, why even keep me here?" Shinobu asked after a long silence.  

"To keep an eye on you and stop you in time," Akira replied instantly.  

Shinobu exhaled wearily. The last three years of struggle now seemed utterly meaningless. So much suffering — for nothing. She’d held onto hope that constant training would make her body grow, that her strength would increase, but even that wasn’t enough. To kill demons, she needed more. Her petite frame, once considered charming, even endearing, had become a curse in her line of work, evoking pity instead of respect. Sometimes, it was unbearable. The only saving grace was that her circle remained unchanged.  

"So, there’s absolutely no other way?"  

"Either decapitate them or burn them in sunlight."  

"What if I tie them up and wait till morning?" Shinobu suggested, hope creeping into her voice.  

"No good. Demons have too wide a range of magic. Ropes are impractical and unsafe," Jubei shut her down.  

"What about wisteria? The demon at Final Selection can’t leave the mountain because of it."  

"Well… if you’re holding wisteria, they’ll just avoid you. But that kinda defeats the purpose of being a slayer."  

"Can I kill them with it?"  

"You’ll throw pouches of wisteria at them? Doubt it’ll do more than piss them off or give them allergies."  

Shinobu left Jubei in even worse spirits than before. Her last hope had dimmed, leaving behind nothing but a hollow ache.  

***  

May 23, 1916

Creak, thump, tra-la-la, tra-la-lee. 

***  

"Dear Shinobu,

I’m thrilled to tell you I’ve recently acquired an estate to turn into a hospital for Demon Slayers! A place to treat severe injuries! It’s near Tokyo, so very convenient. There are even neighbors—lovely girls!

You’re welcome anytime! Can’t wait to see you!

With love,  

Kanae"  

*** 

Kanae was delighted that Shinobu was failing at training. (Every sentence in the letter ended with "!", really?). It stung a little, but Shinobu knew her too well to stay mad. No training meant no slayer career, no slayer career meant no risk of death, no risk of death meant her little sister was safe! Great!  

And she’d already bought the estate. How wonderful. A hospital wasn’t a bad idea, if it weren’t a constant reminder of Shinobu’s inadequacy.  

Shinobu refused to give up. Every slayer killed demons by decapitation. Every slayer had done so since the Heian era. For a thousand years, every slayer from every family, town, and village had beheaded demons. First with raw strength, then with Total Concentration Breathing. She had to break the mold, to redefine how demons could be killed.  

She needed a solution.  

What was Shinobu best at? Sassing, mocking, sarcasm... Wait. What was she good at that could work against demons? She was agile, maybe she could leverage her physique instead of treating it as a weakness? She also made good medicine (Kazuki could vouch for that), but she didn’t need to heal demons, she needed to kill them. Kazuki... Kazuki! She’d once used a weak poison on him, more of a strong hair-loss drug, but if she increased the dosage and concentrated wisteria toxin, then somehow injected it into a demon... that would kill it. Right? It had to.  

Shinobu practically sprinted to her room with the idea, bumping into everyone she knew along the way.  

"Watch it, damn Kocho!" Kazuki yelled as she crashed into him. His hair had grown back slightly, making him look like a hedgehog, just as prickly and antisocial.  

"Kazuki, thank you!" she shouted, hugging him.  

Kazuki screeched.  

"Get off me, psycho! Lost your mind?!"  

But Shinobu was already gone.  

Takumi, watching the scene, smirked.  

***  

Thock, caw, fwoosh, zing, splurt, screech, screech.

First came the sketches. She drafted countless designs for a katana that could inject poison into demons. She also needed a way to store it for use mid-battle, preferably in the blade.  

Figuring it out was pure agony. Equal parts exhilarating and exhausting. Shinobu loved solving complex problems, but ironing out the details was tedious.  

For weeks, she drowned in blueprints, revisions, and modifications. Jubei took her to an engineering library, where she wanted to live. The sheer volume of knowledge (as in any library) was overwhelming, but here, it was all so foreign.  

This wasn’t her first time inventing devices, but it was the first time it truly mattered.  

"Hey..." Someone poked her shoulder.  

Should she modify the hilt? Maybe add auxiliary components for functionality...  

"Shinobu..."  

The poison needed to deploy mid-combat. Maybe a toxin that could kill on contact?  

"Shinobu!" Takumi shoved her harder. "Deaf or what?"  

"Sorry, just thinking," she said, standing up to meet his stern green gaze.  

"You missed breakfast."  

"Forgot."  

"You missed lunch."  

"Didn’t forget. Chose not to come."  

Takumi sighed, then pointed behind her.  

"Oh..."  

A tray of food sat right in front of her. She’d been so absorbed she’d forgotten to eat, and hadn’t even noticed Takumi entering and setting it down.  

"Thanks," she said gratefully, grabbing chopsticks and digging in.  

"You can thank me by finishing it," Takumi said, eyeing the blueprints. "Holy hell, what is this?"  

He pointed at the messiest, most scribbled-over yet most promising design for the scabbard.  

"A mechanism to switch poisons in the katana when triggered. Or maybe not triggered, but with a specific motion... I should probably add a..."  

"Hey!"  

"I’m here!"  

"How do you even do this?" Takumi shook his head.  

"I’m using the scientific method."  

"Wasn’t asking that, but what’s the scientific method?"  

Shinobu stared at him like he’d asked, What’s agriculture?

"It’s a structured approach to finding truth. A step-by-step guide to not fooling yourself when figuring things out. There are strict rules, objectivity, reproducibility, honesty, to make sure it works."  

Takumi listened intently, then studied the paper. Even though Shinobu knew he didn’t understand a word, it still warmed her a little. She also noticed he’d brought her favorite, ginger tsukudani. She didn’t deserve him.  

"Did you swallow a wolf?" Shinobu side-eyed Takumi as animalistic growls came from his stomach.  

"Forgot to eat on the way here."  

"Takumi Randzi forgot to eat?" Shinobu’s eyebrows shot up. "Unbelievable!"  

"Ha. Ha. Ha."  

"Bet it’s Jubei’s nonstop training."  

"Shinobu Kocho complaining about Jūbei Akira? Unbelievable!" Takimi shot back with equal sarcasm, respect-worthy.  

"If he didn’t force breaks, I’d train nonstop."  

She’d been eating standing the whole time. Shinobu hated how she had to crane her neck to talk to Takumi, though that was true for almost everyone around her. But Randzi was her most frequent conversation partner.  

Takumi stayed silent, still scanning the blueprints.  

"Listen..." he began, guilt creeping into his tone.  

Oh, hell no.

"Are you sure this is worth it? If something goes wrong" A quick glance up and down at Shinobu. "it could end really badly..."  

"Yes. I know. That’s why I’m here, trying to turn this really bad into something workable," she said firmly.  

Takumi flinched slightly. Until now, he’d never lectured her about not being cut out to be a slayer, except during their first meeting, where he’d been more surprised than angry. Even Jubei, Kanae, Himejima, Kazuki, and his cronies hadn’t outright told her her weakness would get her killed.  

"Yeah, but if the poison’s too weak or fails..."  

"Randzi, pretty sure I’m the poison expert here," Shinobu cut in sharply.  

"Just saying. I’m worried!"  

"Don’t bother!"  

"But you could get hurt, or die!"  

"Not your concern!"  

"Fine! Then I won’t care if you die!" Takumi stormed out, slamming the door.  

Shinobu, in a foul mood, returned to refining the blueprint, leaving the tsukudani unfinished.  

***  

May 25, 1916

Ooh, eeh, bibble-babble, abracadabra.

She needed a swordsmith. Someone skilled enough to bring her insane idea to life, otherwise, she’d have to learn blacksmithing herself. A lovely prospect. She knew the basics, but... that would take time. Lots of time.  

Shinobu was confident in her sketches and precise schematics. A hundred percent, hell yes confident. After spending so long perfecting them, doubt wasn’t an option. Soon, she’d be killing demons. The thought thrilled her.  

When she showed Jubei the katana designs, he nearly fainted from shock. Eyes bulging, he grilled her on the mechanics (which she happily explained), then arranged a meeting with a smith, enthusiastically.  

Shinobu buzzed with anticipation, triple-checking her notes. Everything had to be perfect. Takumi wasn’t speaking to her. She wasn’t speaking to him either. Their fight ran deeper than it seemed. Sure, he had reasons to worry, but if he’d spent countless hours perfecting the design, he’d understand. Instead, he chose silence. Screw him.  

***  

Kamata Kaji arrived at noon on Tuesday. A short swordsmith with spiky hair peeking out from under a red Hyottoko mask (used to conceal identities and protect from forge sparks). He wore a green kimono over a black shirt and dark pants.  

"Lady Kocho?" Kaji knocked politely, not crossing the threshold. "Smith from the Swordsmith Village. Here by invitation."  

"Yes, please, come in!" Shinobu sprang up, ushering him inside.  

"If I understood Lord Jubei’s message correctly, you require a special katana." Kaji began unbuckling blades from his belt. "I brought prototypes for us to review."  

Shinobu immediately knew these weren’t it. Kaji twisted the first katana.  

"This one has an unusual blade for smoother cuts, with this guard—"  

"Sorry to interrupt!" Shinobu raised her hands. "But this isn’t what I need!" She grabbed the blueprints. "Here, look..."  

The smith studied the design.  

—"WHAT IN THE HELL IS THIS?!"  

***  

Whirr, clunk, sproing, splat.  

—"This is the katana I need," Shinobu said to the stunned smith.  

He looked at the blueprint, then at her. Opened his mouth. Looked back at the blueprint. At her. Closed his mouth.  

—"Let me explain," Shinobu coughed slightly. "Ahem. It’s a biochemical-mechanical complex with high-precision dosing. The sword functions as an injector system, delivering neurotoxin into the demon’s body. The scabbard houses pressurized wisteria toxin capsules, think nicotine-like compounds from biochemistry. A dual-phase hydraulic pump compresses the fluid when sheathed, creating pressure. L-shaped capillary channels minimize turbulence via laminar flow. Selective valves only open under angular acceleration, preventing leaks at rest." Shinobu paused, trying to read the smith’s masked face. "The trigger mechanism activates at a specific blade angle, extraction engages a piezoelectric sensor in the hilt, releasing the toxin. Centrifugal force distributes it along micro-grooves in the blade, like the Magnus effect in aerodynamics. I’ll strike, pierce demon flesh, and inject concentrated wisteria poison."  

The smith stayed silent through her entire speech. Silent as he gathered her blueprints. Silent as he walked out.  

Brilliant. 

—"How’d it go?" Jubei leaned against the doorframe.  

—"I... don’t know," Shinobu stared at where the smith had stood.  

—"We’ll see what happens."  

***  

June 30, 1916 

Plink, plink, plink, plink.

It turned out amazingly. The katana wasn’t just good, it was perfect. Balanced beautifully, gleamed in the sun, and most importantly, worked. Flawlessly. Shinobu practiced on straw dummies. While the smith forged the blade, she’d spent weeks refining wisteria toxin potency, no need to drown demons in buckets of it. In theory, seven strikes per demon (7:1 ratio). Maybe she could improve it to 4:1 someday.  

Tomorrow was Final Selection, held midsummer. That’s where she’d test her invention. The only worry? Everything that could go wrong. Pressure valve failure, insufficient dosage, incorrect blade angle, God, so many variables.  

Jubei marveled at the katana every time he saw it. Soon, nearly all twenty of his students crowded around it. Hinata grinned, excitedly chattering to Takumi, who, by the way, had also come to see.  

"This is insane," Jubei turned the blade over. "Safe to do this?"  

"Combat requires dodging, the toxin won’t spill mid-motion."  

Jubei left, letting the kids chatter.  

"Everyone fawning over Kocho’s useless accomplishment again?" Kazuki materialized out of nowhere, already whining.  

"At least there’s something to fawn over, unlike some people," Takumi cut in.  

"Ooh, the boyfriend speaks!" Kazuki sneered.  

"You’ve got no achievements and can’t stand others succeeding because you’re an idiot, Kazuki," Shinobu snapped. Three years of training together had worn her patience thin, if this was her last chance to clap back, she’d take it. "At least I don’t whine, I act. Who’s really useless here? YOU."  

The crowd erupted, some cheering, some booing.  

"I’m useless? You might wanna check your room, Kocho!" Kazuki’s threat sent a chill down her spine.  

Why would he say that?  

"Doubt you’re clever enough to pull off anything decent," Shinobu scoffed. "Or even witty."  

"Oh, don’t worry! I just dropped by earlier, you weren’t in!"  

"Sure."  

"We’re all marching to our deaths tomorrow, consider it a parting gift."  

"Don’t say ‘deaths.’ We’re well-prepared."  

Shinobu was headed to Final Selection tomorrow, alongside far more aspirants than she’d imagined. Honestly, she could hardly believe it herself. After all these years of struggle, she was finally going. Despite everything.  

"Prepared or not, you can’t prepare to face demons."  

"Too smart for you," she scoffed but hurried to her room. Takumi followed, they were neighbors.  

"What do you think that idiot meant?" he asked sharply.  

"Probably just talking nonsense," Shinobu snapped back.  

They still weren’t on speaking terms.  

Shinobu flung her door open. Nothing. Everything was tidy, just as she’d left it after her blueprint frenzy.  

She collapsed onto her bed, finally relaxing after a day of drills. Tomorrow was Final Selection. Grabbing parchment, she began a letter to Kanae.  

***  

"Dear Kanae,

Sorry for not writing sooner. I’ve found a way to kill demons without decapitation! I won’t detail it here, I’ll tell you in person! Because tomorrow, I’m leaving for Final Selection! 

Hope you’re proud of me. 

With love,  

Shinobu" 

***  

"Guess he was just spouting nonsense," Takumi called from the bathroom. "You’ve got water spilled here."  

"Had a cup there. Kazuki probably couldn’t think of anything better than dumping it."  

"Yeah, sounds like him," Takumi smirked.  

Shinobu rolled over the bed’s railing and when she suddenly realized the puddle was three times larger than the mug could’ve possibly held.  

Takumi moved to grab a towel from the bathroom.  

"Wait—" Shinobu’s instincts flared. "Don’t open the—"  

Too late.  

Takumi yanked the door open, and dozens of liters of water surged out, flooding everything in its path. Kazuki had turned on the faucet and stuffed a rag into the sink, redirecting the flow. Mother of! The water didn’t stop at her room. Oh no. It gleefully cascaded into Takumi’s quarters too.  

Shinobu stayed perched on her bed like it was a lifeboat, watching Takumi’s swearing meltdown from a safe distance. A few of her things were soaked, but salvaging them was pointless. She’d be leaving this place tomorrow anyway. The letter to Kanae had been blown by the draft straight into the newly formed indoor lake, no sending that now.  

"Goddamn it, Kazuki! You rat!" Takumi roared.  

Shinobu turned off the faucet and stared at the apocalyptic cleanup awaiting them.  

Then Kazuki threw open her window and shouted:  

—"Consider it a blessing for Final Selection, Kocho!"  

Chapter Text

Hey little train, we're jumping on                      That train that goes to Kingdom                    We're happy, Ma, we're having fun                    And the train ain't even left the station  

— «O Children» Nick Cave  

July 31, 1916  

In moments of uncertainty, Shinobu remembered her father. He was experienced. Wise. Above all — he was her father. Only now did she realize he’d always been right during their arguments. That wasn’t the painful part. The pain came from the weight of lost opportunities. Aki Kocho could’ve taught her things no one else could. The selfish part of her believed he’d been smarter than Jubei. Simply because… Well. She could no longer compare.  

All children love to evoke positive emotions in their parents. Especially if that emotion was admiration. Shinobu loved the attention of others, so this was especially important to her. Seeing Aki and Camellia's reactions to what she had accomplished would always remain a dream. Even Shinobu couldn't do anything about it. She knew that Kanae felt the same way. There was nothing she could do about it.

Today, a crowd of Jubei's students will depart for the Final Selection. Last year, he convinced most of them that it was better to be over-trained than under-trained, and they agreed. Therefore, almost all the student demon slayers will participate in the 1916 Final Selection and become demon slayers. Shinobu will be among them.

Her most skeptical self had never believed it possible. The facts were indisputable: a fragile frame, short stature, delicacy. None of it served her. Yet here she was.  

She got up from the bed and put on her clothes – a purple kimono with a black shirt and black pants, which were tied with bandages at the bottom. She hung her katana on her belt. A small optimistic part of Shinobu was sure that everything would go smoothly. The pessimistic part didn't think so. If she made a mistake in her calculations, if the poison was weak, if the mechanism failed... What would she do? There were too many "ifs" to fully trust the katana. No one had ever created anything like this. Shinobu was a pioneer in this field, and she clearly couldn't rely on anyone. It was scary to take an untested path.

She scanned the room she’d called home. The desk where she’d spent countless hours refining her poison theory. The vials and flasks lining it, ingredients for her concoctions. Her gaze dropped to the floor, recalling Jūbei’s roaring at Kazuki last night for nearly ruining the tatami. She giggled.  

The shelves held fantasy novels, Greek myths, critical thinking manuals, even a few books Jubei had lent her. Ancient leather-bound tomes with yellowed pages, but all books were beautiful.  

One last look. Then she stepped out.  

***  

"A final reminder: demons know no mercy," Jubei addressed the crowd of children. He spoke from experience. "Begging won’t save you. Every one of them will try to kill you. The key is not freezing in fear. Remember, I know each of you can slay demons." A fleeting glance at Shinobu nearly buckled her knees. "Be ready for anything. Survive seven days on the mountain. I taught you fire-making, foraging, toxic plants. You know this."  

They listened intently. Jubei was releasing all his students. To her knowledge, he’d begun training them shortly before her arrival. Today was as monumental for him as for them.  

"Many don’t return from Final Selection. So I ask: Are you certain of this path? This is your last chance to turn back."  

Not one wavered. Not one would quit at the finish line.  

Jubei smiled, warm, genuine.  

"I’ll await you all." 

Ten children donned adult clothing. Ten children gripped weapons, ready to fight to their last breath if it meant ending the demons’ tyranny.  

***  

August 1, 1916 & Beyond

They reached Mount Fuji’s base minutes before the exam. Along the way, they’d joked and bantered. Hinata knew every stray dog and shook hands with three townsfolk; Kazuki delayed them by brawling with a stranger; Shinobu, bringing up the rear, pelted the others with leaves. They’d been happy. Rei suggested sticking together, ten had better odds than one, but some refused outright.  

On the mountain, Shinobu spotted over a hundred children. The oldest couldn’t have been twenty-five. How surreal.  

Wisteria shimmered under moonlight, dyeing everything purple. It was breathtaking.  

Two figures stood at the entrance: a man and woman. Shinobu recognized the man instantly, Kagaya Ubuyashiki, leader of the Demon Slayer Corps. Long black hair, dark kimono, white haori draped over his shoulders.  

Shinobu knew him very well. It was all thanks to Jubei. When Jubei completed an incredibly difficult mission and was admitted to the hospital, Kagaya came to visit him. He checks on all the seriously injured members of the organization. Jubei revealed Kagaya's tragic life story. As a child, he had two younger brothers, Senri and Akito. Senri, unable to cope with the thought of dying before he was even thirty, set fire to the Ubuyashiki clan's estate at the age of eight, forcing his six-year-old brother, Akito, to commit a double suicide. Their mother died in the fire, leaving Kagaya alone as a nine-year-old child.

Beside him stood his wife, Amane, five years his senior. Ubuyashiki men always married shrine priestesses, caretakers by tradition.  

"Dear Children," Kagaya’s soft voice instantly silenced the nervous crowd.  

As he explained the rules, Shinobu couldn’t look away. His voice soothed like a balm, inexplicably lifting her spirits.  

"Final Selection begins now," the Ubuyashikis said in unison.  

The mass of bodies surged into the forest. Someone grabbed Shinobu’s elbow Takumi.  

"I tried imagining our training on this mountain," he murmured. "But this… we’re fighting for our lives. People will die."  

She was grateful he didn’t revisit their fight or her limitations with some "Maybe you should quit." He’d simply shared his fears, with her.  

"We’ll manage," she offered weakly. "Takumi."  

"Yeah?"  

"No hesitation. No dropped guard."  

The forest had swallowed the others. Only they remained.  

"Understood." A faint smile. "Let’s go."  

***  

Shinobu ran.  

Eastward, at full speed. The rules were simple yet raised questions: Could you camp near wisteria? (Safe from demons, but was it allowed?) Could you carry wisteria pouches? (She’d packed poison vials, but injection was key.) She’d never cheat, but others might.  

A scream tore through the left. Across the river, a boy clutched his bleeding throat. Shinobu leaped the water before thinking. Her pulse roared as she assessed him: deep gashes, fatal wounds. No saving him. She bandaged him anywayif that was banned, she’d lose all faith in the Corps. Takumi loomed grimly behind her.  

"I… don’t…" The boy gurgled. "Wanna die…"  

GOD. HE’S TWELV?  

"Don’t wanna die…"  

Shinobu’s hands were slick with blood.  

Bandages couldn’t stop it. He was dying. Slowly. Agonizingly.  

"It’s okay," she lied. All she could do was stay. But staying meant watching a child die. "What’s your name?" He’d trained years for this. He deserved that much.  

"Norman," he rasped.  

The boy cried. So did the girl. She couldn’t stop the tears. Because this, this was fucking horrific. Ten minutes in, and death had already come.  

Then Norman stopped crying.  

Silence.  

Not her first time witnessing death. It never hurt less.  

***  

"Cave ahead," Takumi pointed.  

"Could rest there," Shinobu said wearily.  

Hours of frantic running had drained their adrenaline. A poor strategy.  

"I’ll scout." Takumi edged forward, katana ready.  

Shinobu watched nervously. Reassuring glances. His footsteps echoed, amplifying the tension. Deeper he went, until darkness swallowed him. Then, impact*. Hands slammed into his stomach, knocking him down. A stick cracked against his ribs—once, twice—before snapping.  

Not a demon.  

"Rei?!" Shinobu gasped.  

Rei froze. The stick clattered. Recognition flashed friends. He helped Takumi up, apologizing wildly:  

"So many died at the start! I thought—I thought you were them! At dawn, they’ll need hiding spots..."  

A valid point. They’d need open ground by morning.  

"It’s fine," Shinobu said.  

"Peachy..." Takumi groaned.  

They listened for approaching threats.  

"God, I’m glad it’s you," Rei panted. "We should stick together."  

"Agreed. Seen the others?"  

"Scattered. Hard to track."  

Damn. They’d promised *not* to split.  

"How many deaths?" Takumi asked.  

"Didn’t count!" Rei snapped. "Fifteen at least!"  

Fifteen?!  

"Let’s make a fire," Shinobu trudged into the cave.  

***  

The second night brought demons.  

Three of them, strong, blood-magic-wielding. Not mindless fodder. Shinobu abandoned physics-defying questions for survival tactics.  

"Three demons," Rei trembled, barely gripping his sword.  

"Hey." Shinobu shoved him. "We’re not some loser squad."  

"Jubei Akira trained us!" Takumi declared, as if that name solved everything. Shinobu agreed.  

Rei managed a grateful smile.  

"Imagine doing missions like this someday," Shinobu said.  

"With you two still pep-talking me."  

"Nothing wrong with that," Takumi said.  

"We’ll pass this exam!"  

Takumi fought brilliantly, but the battle scattered them. Two demons remained, one pinning Hinata in its grip. Shinobu hadn’t noticed at first. Horror struck.  

She activated her strongest poison. A hiss from the scabbard, the mechanism worked.  

Rei engaged his demon with Water Breathing techniques. Beautiful, if she had time to admire it.  

Her target’s arm turned purple upon contact. It worked. She suppressed her euphoria, focus. Another stance, another strike. The demon clutched its chest, screaming. Hinata hung limp in its graspunconscious?  

Then crack.  

The demon snapped Hinata’s neck.  

Too fast. She’d lunged too late. Now Hinata lay dead beside the disintegrating demon. Her triumph evaporated.  

Hinata stared at the starry sky, so peaceful he might’ve been sleeping.  

Another horror: Rei was losing. No lost. Another body fell. The clearing now mirrored their sparring sessions, bodies strewn like discarded dolls. Back then, she’d calmed herself by pretending it was a game.  

This was real.  

Shinobu clutched her head. The demons leered predators eyeing prey. Her body screamed RUN, not calculate poison reserves.  

Then rage.  

Cold, calculating fury. She slaughtered the remaining demon in seconds. Not blind anger strategic. The kind that bypasses morals for murder.  

Despair crashed over her. She collapsed beside her friends’ bodies.  

Hinata and Rei hadn’t been Jubei’s weakest. He outclassed 90% of slayer mentors. Yet it hadn’t been enough. By day two, most of his students were dead.  

So much blood could’ve formed blood rivers. 

***

After several more days, Shinobu was at her limit. Her hands trembled constantly, her heart pounded, and her body ached. The perpetual fear made it hard to think straight. Takumi wasn’t faring much better. They were barely holding on.

The daylight hours were bearable. They took turns keeping watch while the other slept, foraged for mushrooms and berries scattered throughout the forest. Shinobu made mushroom soup that Takumi praised for days, begging her to make it again. She didn’t mind. They’d set up a small camp near the tall cave where Rei had emerged earlier, beside a long winding river. It was a good spot.

The sun had barely risen above the treetops when Shinobu opened her eyes. The cold morning air stung her skin, but after a night filled with nightmares and apprehension, even this discomfort felt like a blessing. Takumi was dozing beside her, leaning against the trunk of an old cedar tree. His sword rested on his lap, his fingers still gripping the katana. Shinobu didn't wake him. Even though he had fallen asleep when they had agreed to take turns sleeping. Instead, she stood up carefully, stretching to loosen her stiff muscles, and looked around their small camp. 

They had set up camp at the foot of a rocky outcrop, where the roots of the trees formed a natural shelter. The fire from the previous day had already died down, leaving only a small pile of ashes and charred branches. The area was quiet, with no signs of birds or animals. A small stream flowed a couple of minutes away from the camp. Shinobu picked up an empty canteen and headed toward it, trying to make as little noise as possible. The water was icy, crystal clear. She washed her face, filled the canteen, and picked a few young ferns and a handful of wild berries before returning. 

When she returned, Takumi was sitting by the dead fire, rubbing his eyes. 

"Did you find anything edible?" he asked, nodding at her find. 

"You can boil the ferns and eat the berries raw. If we're lucky, we'll find some mushrooms later."

"I hope we're lucky."

"Yes, we're very lucky."

Takumi snorted.

Demons had grown scarce these past days perhaps thinned out by the exam’s end.

Now, as the sun dipped below the horizon, the seventh night on Mount Fuji began. Just a few more hours, and she’d be a Demon Slayer. A few damn hours, and this would be over.

Jubei’s words echoed in her mind:

"You’ll always be at war—whether you’re sleeping, eating, or resting. A slayer’s life is eternal battle. It never ends."

God damn it. This horror would haunt her until her dying day. In the 16th century, no slayer lived to old age. In the 17th, only one man avoided encountering an Upper Moon or Muzan, surviving long enough to train others. By the Taishō era, just two Hashira had reached advanced age. She’d met a student of one of them hours earlier.

The boy had worn a white dog mask, a blue wave-patterned kimono, and practiced Water Breathing.

"We don't need luck, we'll just handle it." 

"Sure," said Shinobu sarcastically. "Do you think that's enough?" 

"Of course. Training will always ensure safety." 

"You think you're the only one training here, and the dozen people who died were just fools?" 

"They overestimated their abilities," he replied proudly. 

"Yeah, well, don't you overestimate yours?"

"I'm perfectly prepared!" 

"They thought so too, but..." 

"Not comparing us! I've been preparing for years, I've cut a huge boulder on the mountain!" 

"Yes, it would probably help a lot in making a strategy against the demon and comparing their capabilities against it." 

 "I... "– he started, but stopped abruptly."  Kazuki?"

"I…" he’d begun, then stopped abruptly. "Kazuki?"

Shinobu turned toward the river. Kazuki approached with uncharacteristic calm the first time she’d seen him so composed.

"So you’re here," Kazuki said to the masked boy. Then, sharper, to Shinobu: "And you."

"Nice haircut."

"Shut up. There’s a demon ahead—one that elongates its limbs. Claims it’s killed all your master’s students and wants to collect you next."

"That bastard!" The usually cool-headed boy snapped.

"You don’t know if it’s true! No need to risk—"

"I know it’s true!" the boy howled. "Master Urokodaki told me about all his students who never returned from Final Selection!"

So a teacher kept recruiting despite losing every student?

"You’ll just die there."

"I have to kill that demon. Lead the way, Kazuki."

Kazuki shot her a withering glare.

The two spiteful figures disappeared into the trees.

***

The sun sank lower, the air growing colder and darker. Shinobu tensed.

"My father hated purple," Takumi remarked idly.

"Why?"

"Reminded him of his first love. He nearly eloped for her, but she abandoned him."

"That’s sad."

"Yeah. What about yours?" Takumi asked.

"What about him?"

"What was he like?"

Shinobu paused. Aki Kocho… Happy memories surfaced, now bittersweet, reminders of what she’d lost. A life she’d never reclaim, conversations left unspoken.

"He was… good. And smart. A surgeon at Tokyo Central Hospital."

"Hard work," Takumi acknowledged.

"Very. I watched him practice origami with surgical tweezers, so precise. He loved films too."

Silence.

"Did your father like premieres?" Shinobu asked.

"No. I don’t think he liked much of anything."

The words carried more weight than they let on. Shinobu studied Takumi, imagining what lay beneath.

"At least Jubei took us to movies. Remember when he brought Kazuki?"

Takumi managed a weak smile. "He threw a fit!"

"Yelled the whole way there."

"Good movie, though."

"All movies are good," Shinobu nudged him.

"Think they’ll come back?" Takumi asked.

"I hope so." Her voice wavered despite her effort.

"Too many have died already." Takumi knelt, face buried in his hands. He looked hollow.

Shinobu feared he’d break down, and she’d have no words to comfort him, leaving them both shattered.

"Takumi," she called. Though he didn’t lift his head, she knew he listened. "Why are you sniffing your knees?"

Takumi burst out laughing, genuine joy for the first time in days.

"You should know… Jubei offered to send me to Final Selection two years ago."

Shinobu’s eyes widened. He could’ve gone then. Could’ve passed years earlier. Yet he stayed… For what? To improve his skills? 

"Why didn’t you?"

Takumi smiled at her. He turned toward the river, watching its sluggish currents. More a lake than a river now. He struggled for words.

"I wanted to stay with you," he finally said. Shinobu stayed silent, so he continued. "I wanted to see where your training would lead, what you’d do to become a slayer. Every day, training with you became more… alive. You don’t realize, Shinobu. Any room you enter turns to chaos. You could make Kazuki’s dullest lecture hilarious. Before you, I thought Jubei’s training was fine. After you, I wondered how I’d ever lived without it. I remember stepping outside the dojo to laugh until my stomach hurt after you tied that boy’s hands to his sword. My face burned red, first time I’d ever laughed till I couldn’t breathe. You’re… electric. You call yourself selfish, yet care for everyone around you. You start conversations with strangers and end them with friends. Your stubbornness inspires people. So I chose to wait, year after year, to take this exam with you rather than go alone."

Shinobu said nothing. For the first time in her life, words failed her. Takumi’s speech hit harder than any demon’s blow.

"You don’t have to-" Takumi stood abruptly. "There’s a demon."

"Across the river?"

"Yes."

***

"Congratulations on passing Final Selection." A voice, male? Female? She couldn’t tell. Couldn’t process anything.

Shinobu couldn’t explain what happened after Takumi’s warning. The demon wielded grotesque power blood projectiles. Gallons of it flooded the riverbank, coating trees and earth. Its combat skills were mediocre, but the blood… so viscous. It trapped them on opposite banks.

Then she saw it, the demon cleaving Takumi diagonally from shoulder to hip. He collapsed against a tree. She remembered screaming. Her poison killed the demon, but not before its corpse exploded, drenching everything in crimson.

As Takumi lay dying, Shinobu kneeling beside him, a ragged voice sounded behind her.

"This is your fault." Kazuki emerged from the trees limbs intact but grievously wounded.

"What?!"

"It’s always your fault!" Kazuki shrieked. "Everything changed when you came! Jūbei *cared* about me! Trained me like a son! We understood each other! Then you he became obsessed with you! Forgot me entirely!" Spittle flew from his lips. "My parents are dead he was all I had! And you stole him! Happy now, Kocho?!"

"Kazuki, not now" Shinobu clutched Takumi’s hand.

"The demon killed him."

She realized he meant the masked boy.

"That demon did this to you?"

"Obviously! Crushed my organs with its bare hands! I’m already dead."

"Kazuki, please, let Takumi go in peace."

She didn’t see it coming. One moment she was crouching, the next, Kazuki shoved her into the river. Takumi was already gone by then. The impact with the water knocked the breath from her lungs.

Shinobu Kocho fell into the River of Blood.

It was all she knew, thick, metallic, suffocating. It filled her eyes, her clothes, her throat. No amount of Breath Technique helped when you couldn’t breathe. The iron taste mixed with something saltier. She didn’t want to think about what.

Then light. Hands hauled her past the wisteria boundary. Kagaya Ubuyashiki and his wife pulled her onto the bank. No one spoke. The silence said everything.

***

 The Harpy Hare, where have you buried all your children? Tell me so I say                                    The Harpy Hare, where have you buried all your children? Tell me so I say

— "Happy Hare" Yaelokre

Now she stood before the Ubuyashikis. A glance confirmed it, of a hundred aspirants, she alone remained.

Last year, a boy named Sabito slaughtered every demon save one. Last year, every child passed Final Selection on this cursed mountain.

The 1916 Selection became the bloodiest in recent memory. The Hashira, dissatisfied with recruits’ quality, had overcrowded Fuji with demons, no coordination, no regard for human limits.

One survivor. Sunlight bathed the clearing where they’d all gathered days prior. The wisteria remained as beautiful as ever. One.

"You must select ore for your sword," Kagaya said gently.

"I don’t need a standard katana," Shinobu hissed. "I won’t use one."

She turned sharply, ready to leave this mountain, this clearing, this nightmare. A pool of blood darkened the grass where she’d stood.

"A Kasugai crow will also be assigned for communications."

A talking crow landed on her shoulder. She couldn’t muster the energy to care.

"Shinobu." Kagaya’s voice stopped her. "Thank you. For everything. My respect transcends words, but… thank you. Despite all obstacles, you found a way to fight."

It wasn’t what she wanted to hear. It was what she needed though she hadn’t known it.

Takumi had died in agony, bisected by the blood demon. At least they’d had time to speak. To say goodbye.

But she’d never said what mattered most. After his speech about her, she’d owed him a response.

Takumi laughed at unfunny jokes to spare feelings. He offered his last strength to others. He’d kill barehanded to protect his friends. He fought until his body failed, a slayer to the end. Takumi Randži made poor first impressions but unforgettable good ones.

Kazuki died a spiteful wretch, dragging her toward death with him. Doomed, he’d refused to let her live.

None of this was right. A hundred children dead, a pointless massacre. Had anyone cared about the death toll, things might’ve differed. Every slayer claimed to fight for humanity, yet when told of Selection casualties, they just said: "Such is a slayer’s path."

And did nothing.

"This is wrong," she whispered through tears. "You can’t allow this!"

"Shinobu, I understand your pain—"

"What’s the point?! If you understood, you’d act! You’re the only one who could..."

She didn’t stay to hear the Corps leader’s reply. Stumbling away, she left bloody footprints in her wake.

Chapter Text

So is it not with me as with that Muse,  

Stirr'd by a painted beauty to his verse,  

Who heaven itself for ornament doth use,  

And every fair with his fair doth rehearse;  

Making a couplement of proud compare  

With sun and moon, with earth and sea's rich gems,  

With April's first-born flowers, and all things rare  

That heaven's air in this huge rondure hems.  

O, let me, true in love, but truly write,  

And then believe me, my love is as fair  

As any mother's child, though not so bright  

As those gold candles fix'd in heaven's air:  

Let them say more that like of hearsay well;  

I will not praise that purpose not to sell. 

(Sonnet 21)

August 17, 1916

"Are you sure about this?" Jūbei stood over her in the room, his expression grim.

"I..." Shinobu said, "I won't stay here."

More than ten days had passed since she bloody Final Selection ended. Shinobu had spent over half that time unconscious, writhing in pain from her wounds, not just the physical ones. The only thing keeping her at Jūbei's estate was the uniform she'd yet to receive. She hadn't lost so many comrades just to leave without it. She was also owed a katana, though she didn't know if it would be custom-made or standard-issue. She hoped they'd at least manage that much.

Shinobu had grown disillusioned with the Demon Slayer Corps long ago, when she learned about child recruitment, their training methods, and the complete lack of psychological support, even after thirty years of service. The slayers deserved support but received none. Yes, they could pay for therapy themselves, but how could they explain demons? They couldn't. The organization should've handled this, not let retired hunters train new ones, no matter how useful that was. She knew few survived the Final Selection. And it was her fault for trusting others too much. Her faith in herself had died halfway through, she hadn't saved Hinata, Rei, Norman. Or Takumi.

"The mail came yesterday. Your sister wrote to you," Jubei said, but Shinobu understood immediately.

He'd held onto the letter, knowing she wouldn't be in high spirits after the selection.

"You think this will comfort me?"

"Quick as ever. You're getting sharper by the day." Jubei smirked, and Shinobu smiled despite herself.

"You're just getting old."

"Brat." Jubei produced the letter from his pocket. "Take it."

Shinobu grabbed it and headed to her room, opening the envelope as she walked.

"Dear Shinobu!

Everything's fine at the hospital! More wounded arrive daily, honestly, it breaks my heart! Seeing so much pain is unbearable, but I'm glad to help.

I remember your mission advice! I can make simple medicines now, but it'd be better with you here! When will you stop being stubborn and visit? Then everything will be perfect!

P.S. Seriously, quit wasting time training, you agreed! Kakushi told me only one person survived the recent Final Selection! One in a hundred! Can you believe it? So really, Shinobu, come to our new home!*

Love,  

Kanae."

Ha. Ha. Ha.

"Only one survived! Can you imagine?"

Ha. Ha. Ha.

I CAN FUCKING WELL IMAGINE.

She knew exactly how it felt to be the only survivor. All her friends had died there. Every child taking the exam had died there. And she understood it too well. Sometimes, death's concept was unbearable. She couldn't believe Takumi... was gone. Takumi, who'd first welcomed her here. Takumi, her first friend. That thought hurt more than remembering him lying in blood as Kazuki emerged from the trees. Kazuki had died a murderer. Even if Shinobu lived, he'd thought she'd die. He'd wanted that. Wanted revenge, to drag her into despair.

Thinking of Kazuki gave her cognitive dissonance. He'd been so... so Kazuki-like. To her and Takumi, that meant ridiculous, funny, ugly, amusing. Kazuki was just a weird kid who loved mischief. So him trying to kill her... didn't compute. This was Kazuki. How was that even possible? Shinobu refocused on the letter because she didn't know what to make of any of this. Everything had become so tangled, and they'd had no time to sort it out. Only now did she understand time's true value. She'd needed just a little more - just a few more days - to reconcile with her father. But she hadn't made it. They'd never truly gotten along. Shinobu bitterly regretted getting angry at him over something so trivial that day. If only she hadn't been so stubborn... But no. Even if they'd parted on good terms, nothing would have changed. Her parents would still be dead. The letter! Kanae called the estate their "new home" - how quaint. Her sister still imagined Shinobu merely swinging a wooden katana, dreaming of superhuman strength. She still believed her little sister wouldn't become a Demon Slayer and die on some mission. Shinobu herself wasn't confident she'd survive even three assignments. A hundred candidates. A full hundred.

"Lady Shinobu?" Kaji opened her bedroom door.

"Oh, Mr. Kaji!" Shinobu jerked away from the letter as if burned.

"I came to congratulate you on passing the Final Selection," he said, arms spread in greeting.

"Thanks," she replied flatly.

"Or... perhaps I shouldn't?" The swordsmith hesitated. "I heard what happened. My condolences."

"Thanks."

"After the last selection where over fifty survived... Just one - that's truly horrific." Kaji slumped wearily at her desk where she'd recently sketched katana designs. "I can't imagine how you feel. And now you have missions ahead..."

"It's my job," Shinobu said. Job. Child labor - how perfectly fitting for the Demon Slayer Corps.

Kaji produced her new katana from his bag - the scabbard, guard and hilt showed obvious modifications. Then he placed down a white bag labeled "Slayer."

"The uniform's in there?" Shinobu asked.

"Got it in one," Kaji smiled. "I requested purple accents - your color."

"My color?" She blinked.

"Yes! You're always wearing purple!"

No, I'm not.

It felt strange being addressed so formally by a man four times her age. That never happened before - everything had changed now.

"And the katana - the main event!" Kaji exclaimed. "An exact match for your sister's!"

My sister's? What?

"What do you mean?" Shinobu asked carefully, resisting assumptions.

"I met her in the Swordsmith Village! That butterfly hairpin caught my eye, they're rare. We talked, and I learned she was your sister! Memorized her blade's design and replicated it. You don't mind, do you?"

So everything was fine. It had to be.

"You didn't alter the mechanism? Poison delivery, release..."

"Of course not!" Kaji looked offended. "How could I ruin such craftsmanship?"

"Just verifying."

"Such distrust! What do you take me for?"

***

Kaji left upset, but Shinobu saved apologies for later. Now she wanted to inspect these blood-earned possessions. The uniform proved incredibly comfortable: a snow-white shirt fitting perfectly, loose dark-purple pants, and matching jacket with white lining. The Demon Slayer insignia adorned the back. The fabric breathed, repelled moisture, resisted heat, and could withstand weak demons' claws. Perfect. The katana's white scabbard had gold trim, turquoise hilt with bronze inlays, and a guard shaped like petals... Petals. Kanae used Flower Breathing. Warmth spread through Shinobu's chest at their matching blades, even if her sister didn't know.

"Well?" Jubei regarded her with paternal pride. "It suits you."

"Thanks," Shinobu smiled sincerely. "I should go."

She didn't know why she felt such urgency, but her legs carried her forward. She needed to see Kanae after so long.

"Yes, I suppose it's time," Jubei said sadly.

"Hey, old man, don't write me off yet! Think you can be rid of me that easily?" Shinobu shot back, and Jubei laughed. "You'll be saying that to other students!"

"What students? After this disaster, I'm done teaching. But... thank you."

"Anytime."

At least someone was parting on good terms. This chapter at the estate was ending. Shinobu would never forget arriving here expecting some dreary place like the Himejima household. Instead she'd found Jūbei, Takumi, Hinata... They'd had time not just for training but for living - teasing Kazuki, tying trainees' hands to their swords, being children one last time. Two and a half years of grueling practice, dozens of fascinating people, priceless knowledge - all left their mark. Now Shinobu had to move forward.

***

In the remote mountains where the air hung heavy with herbs and damp earth stood the Kochō Estate. Shinobu arrived near dusk. This was no longer the family manor her father bought after marrying, just... a hospital. A hospital purchased because Kanae thought Shinobu too fragile and didn't want to lose her.

The building dwarfed her expectations - twice as large as imagined. Dark wooden walls supported a sharp gray roof. Inside reigned clinical order: shelves of vials, dried herbs, surgical tools. Alcohol, camphor and something sweet hung in the air.

The courtyard bloomed with roses, lilies, sunflowers... Butterflies danced between trees. And amidst it all sat a boy - barely older than her. Handsome. Normally Shinobu assessed people clinically: eye spacing, lip shape, brow angle... But this one... Attractive? No, she disliked the term. She stared openly. After the bloodbath, her friends' deaths, nearly dying herself, didn't she deserve this distraction? Wavy hair tied in a spiky bun. Deep blue drowning-pool eyes. Sharp features. A fit frame clad in blue-tinted uniform. A red-yellow-green haori lay beside him, its meaning unknown.

The boy turned. They stared as sunset painted everything pink. Shinobu smirked devilishly and approached.

"Been here long?" She gazed at the mountains.

The boy smiled shyly, eyes lowering.

"Hey?"

"Came to get patched up," he finally answered.

"Good. Health matters," Shinobu said, having nothing better.

She remained standing nearby. It felt... pleasant. Strange.

A window slammed open, releasing an alarmed voice:

"So? Still no reply?"

Shinobu recognized Himejima's low rumble immediately.

"She always answered immediately! Now silent over a week! Crows deliver in hours!" Kanae's voice.

They were discussing her silence. Shinobu felt no shame, she'd come personally instead.

"One letter! Is that too much?!"

"Kanae's worked up," Shinobu remarked aloud.

"Kanae? You know her?" The boy perked up.

"She's my sister, of course I know her," Shinobu snapped, sharper than intended.

"Wow," was all he said.

Curious, she marched toward the office door where the conversation continued. She glanced back, inviting him to follow, and he trailed at a respectful distance. Shinobu raised her fist to knock when the dialogue escalated.

"—Especially since she already realized slaying isn't for her! Why won't she reply?!" Kanae's voice shook with unprecedented fury. Shinobu had never heard her sister so enraged, she didn't know Kanae could sound like this.

"Perhaps she went to the Selection?" Himejima suggested.

Shinobu and the boy exchanged glances. Eavesdropping on this absurd exchange, they couldn't suppress muffled laughter behind their hands. Why was this so inexplicably funny? Alone, Shinobu knew she wouldn't be laughing.

"The Selection?!" Kanae shrieked.

Himejima, really? Now Kanae would realize the sole survivor was Shinobu.

"Then she died during Selection."

...

"That's merely conjecture. Remember that."

Shinobu's smile vanished.

"But she was so desperate to join the Corps, she might've..." Kanae's voice trembled.

"Jubei might've stopped her. Four months ago we agreed if Shinobu couldn't kill demons, she wouldn't be sent."

So. Not even her own sister, the one who raised her, considered Shinobu might survive. Overcome. Prevail.

This ends now.

"Kanae!" Shinobu called through the door. "I came, just like you asked!"

Rapid footsteps. The door flew open.

"Shinobu!" Kanae stood radiant, until she truly saw her sister. Her face collapsed.

Shinobu smacked her own forehead. Hearing her voice, Kanae had assumed she'd abandoned the Corps. Then realization struck. One survivor. A hundred dead. Now her expression looked devastated beyond grief.

Peering past, Shinobu saw Himejima at the desk, more massive than ever after three years apart, his face unreadable.

"Hello, Himejima!" She waved. Both siblings stood frozen.

"You look like you've seen a ghost!" Shinobu tried levity.

The boy excused himself from the unbearable tension, making everything worse.

"Sorry, sorry..." Kanae bid Himejima farewell, shut the door, and steered Shinobu down the hall. "I never expected, your silence, I just—"

"Worried. I get it," Shinobu finished.

Kanae stared as if she'd spoken ancient Chinese.

"You've truly grown up," Kanae forced a smile.

Shinobu looked Kanae over. Long, well-groomed hair, a more developed face, a hunter's uniform, and a tall stature. Yes, Kanae had matured, and not just a little. Shinobu couldn't say the same about herself.

"Come see your room," Kanae said.

A private room? Good. Except they were heading toward the attic. Shinobu understood immediately. Kanae stretched on tiptoes, unfolded a ladder, and climbed up. Shinobu followed.

The attic welcomed them with lamplight. Five bookshelves lined the walls. A large bed with violet linens, a wardrobe, and a long desk—half cluttered with poison vials and medicine bottles, half buried in blueprints and drafting tools.

"Well? Do you like it?" Kanae asked hopefully.

"Kanae, are you joking?!" Shinobu shrieked, immediately bouncing onto the bed. "This is the best place in the universe!"

Kanae laughed.

"I worked so hard to perfect everything. For when you came. And here we are."

Shinobu jumped on the bed, grinning wildly—the only way to properly survey the room.

"It's amazing!"

"Shinobu!"

"What?"

"Are you... alright?" Kanae clearly meant the Selection. Her enthusiasm dimmed.

No, – Shinobu thought.

"Yes," Shinobu said.

***

The night sky was dotted with thousands of stars, each one brighter than the next. The street was asleep, and the silence was peaceful.

That boy still sat on the bench, apparently returning after that awkward scene.

"So?" Shinobu asked.

"What?" he replied.

"Thoughts on what you heard?"

"So you're the girl, the only Selection survivor?" His eyes lit up. "Rumors say you flew down the mountain on demon wings."

Wow. Gossip travels fast.

Shinobu hadn't realized the event was so notorious.

"Mmm, first part's true, second's nonsense. You know how it is."

"I see. So you're Shinobu Kocho?"

"Yep." She tilted her head back, shoulder brushing the tree he leaned against. "And you are?"

"Tomioka Giyu."

Chapter Text

Let those who are in favour with their stars

Of public honour and proud titles boast,

Whilst I, whom fortune of such triumph bars,

Unlooked for joy in that I honour most.

Great princes' favourites their fair leaves spread

But as the marigold at the sun's eye,

And in themselves their pride lies burid,

For at a frown they in their glory die.

The painful warrior famousd for fight,

After a thousand victories once foiled,

Is from the book of honour rasd quite,

And all the rest forgot for which he toiled:

Then happy I that love and am belovd

Where I may not remove, nor be removd.

Sonnet 25 by William Shakespeare 

August 18, 1916.

Blood. A sea of blood. Shinobu was drowning in it. There was no air, her eyes were glued shut, and her body refused to move because of the thick fluid. She wanted to scream, but opening her mouth, she only tasted iron. Bubbles of air rose upwards, but she couldn't surface. The moment she pushed off with her feet, she was thrown back to the bottom. A body fell into the river of blood. It was Takumi. His dead, glassy eyes filled with the red liquid, and he sank deeper and deeper. Then she saw Kazuki. He wasn't dead. He was screaming and screaming at her… but through the thickness of the blood, the sounds didn't carry. She wanted to grab her head, tear out her hair, do anything to get rid of this terrible feeling. Hundreds more bodies began to fall from the riverbank into the river, sinking to the bottom and drifting past. Norman, Hinata, Rei… All of them. And then someone grabbed her hand. Kanae was holding her and trying to say something. Seeing the image of her sister submerged in the bloody river, Shinobu instantly opened her eyes.

Waking up in a new place had never been so easy. The warm, clean bed added to the coziness of this room. Her room. The sun-drenched floor was warm but not bothersome, giving a feeling of relaxation. Rising from the soft pillow, Shinobu looked around: the closet was stuffed with clothes all the way to the ceiling. Kanae had really gone all out.

Smiling at the thought of her sister, Shinobu put on her Demon Slayer uniform. She had only received it yesterday and hadn't had a chance to wear it properly yet! Still in her warm socks, she carefully went down the stairs and walked into the kitchen.

Kanae had already made herself at home here. Open jars of spices, sacks of rice, and other foodstuffs were neatly arranged. Worn towels and a white apron hung on the back of a chair by the dining table. The kitchen was clearly meant for a family, not for patients; for them, there was a separate dining hall in the left wing of the estate (yes, it was that huge!).

"Good morning," her sister turned to her, scooping ginger tsukudani into a bowl. She remembers.

"Morning," Shinobu hopped onto a chair.

Since yesterday, she had barely left her room (except for a couple of trips to the toilet and that encounter with the boy she couldn't seem to forget). So they hadn't had a chance to talk properly yet.

Kanae placed two bowls on the table, took off the white apron, and sat down beside her. For a minute, she stared with a stubborn look and an unreadable expression right into Shinobu's eyes.

"AND YOU DIDN'T TELL ME ANYTHING?!" Kanae exploded. Shinobu was taken aback.

"I wanted to tell you everything when we met…"

"When we met? More than two weeks of silence, and you even went to the Final Selection!"

While Kanae was raging, Shinobu was thinking about how best to calm her sister down. Just as she realized she didn't know how, it truly hit her how much time had passed since their last meeting. Three damn years! They had been so surprised and yet so awkward with each other that they couldn't have a proper conversation; they just exchanged a few phrases, and Kanae showed her to her beautiful room.

"Some guy flooded my room with water right before I was about to reply. It was the day before the Selection, so I didn't have time," Shinobu said and added quieter: "Sorry."

Kanae, remembering what had happened at the Selection, immediately deflated. She understood.

"I'm sorry,it's just… it's been so long since we saw each other," she said, calmer now.

"I understand," Shinobu smiled weakly. The image of Kanae from the dream appeared before her eyes again.

"But how? How did you pass?"

"It was hard to survive among so many demons."

"That's just it! How did you survive?"

"I killed them."

"Someone wrote to me that she couldn't kill demons," Kanae said reproachfully. 

"No-o-o, someone wrote that she couldn't cut their heads off," Shinobu drawled.

"And what does that mean?"

"That I found another way to kill them,"Shinobu got up from the table. "One second."

She walked quickly towards the attic, breaking into a run on the way back. "Here."

Kanae took Shinobu's katana in her hands. Drawing it from its scabbard, she was horrified.

"My God…"

"You can just call me 'Shinobu Kocho'," she grinned slyly.

Kanae gave her a slight nudge in the side but couldn't hold back a smile. The ice was beginning to melt.

"What is this?"

"It's not a regular katana.I made it so I can inject demons with poison instead of cutting their heads off."

"Poison?"

"Yes.Right now it takes about seven stings per demon. I can manage about three per attack, but it's not enough. I want to get it down to four-to-one. At least."

Kanae looked at her for a long time, then at the katana, then back at her sister. She opened her mouth but didn't utter a word.

"I get you,"Shinobu smiled, taking back the katana.

"Damn demons. A hundred people! A hundred!"  fatigue and pain, which hadn't left her since the Selection, surged within her.

She turned to Kanae, expecting similar outrage and ranting about the creatures that kill innocent people. The creatures that killed their parents. That stole their right to a normal life.

But Kanae said nothing.

***

Shinobu mentally divided the estate into three wings. Its size was astounding. She had never seen buildings like this. Flowers grew in the courtyard, which Kanae tended to in her free time. The well, left by the previous owners, was still used despite the running water in the house. A large dojo for training and patient rehabilitation. The place was wonderful.

"Does it not hurt?" she asked the slayer whose arm she was bandaging. He mumbled something incoherent in response but didn't complain. Well, that's a no.

"Sorry, you just got home and I immediately saddled you with work," Kanae said guiltily.

"It's fine," Shinobu replied. Kanae picked up a tray from the table.

"By the way, Himejima stopped by. He wants to talk to you."

Shinobu looked up with interest. However hard the time spent with him had been, she had missed him. A little, but yes. Gyomei was a good guy. They were close enough to call each other by their first names. And it wasn't just about her age and cheekiness.

"Is he in the same place as yesterday?"

"Yes.He had to leave for a mission, but he's free now," Kanae held a metal tray with pills. "I think he'll be glad to see you."

"Then I'll go," Shinobu pretended she didn't really want to, but the way she ran off probably gave her away completely.

***

Knock-knock

"Gyomei, are you in here?" she peeked into the office.

"Shinobu,"

Gyomei turned towards her.

"Didn't expect to see you so soon."

Didn't expect to see you at all.– is what Shinobu heard.

"Well,you can be happy about it," she smiled, sitting down on the doctor's stool.

White curtains swayed gently from the breeze from the slightly open window. A light freshness reigned in the estate, pleasant in such terrible summer heat. Creaking quietly, Shinobu wheeled the stool closer to Gyomei.

"And I see you haven't been idle, you even made it to the Hashira rank."

"Look who's talking," Gyomei crossed his arms over his chest.

"I don't see your point," Shinobu said sarcastically, looking away.

"Just tell me how? " Gyomei insisted.

"Why does everyone keep asking the same thing?" Shinobu shook her head.

It didn't bother her anymore, people reacting like this to her return from the Selection. When you know the reason, it's hard to be angry. Shinobu was weak. As regrettable as it was, the fact remained. Both Kanae and Gyomei had the right to be surprised and to want to know how she managed to do what much stronger slayers could not. Gyomei was still staring intently at her.

"I use a katana that kills demons with poison.I don't need to cut their heads off," she finally answered.

Gyomei raised his eyebrows in surprise.He looked impressed.

"Is that...a new technique?"

"Something like that. I created a new Breathing Style specifically for this weapon. A branch of Water Breathing," Shinobu rocked on the stool. "And it also took me time to create the blueprint for a katana capable of performing all the functions. When my swordsmith saw it, he almost fainted," Shinobu laughed.

Unexpectedly, Gyomei laughed too, and Shinobu looked at him carefully. She had only seen him smile once. When they moved the huge boulder, and Himejima called them by their first names for the first time. It was a sweet memory. She didn't want it to be tarnished.

"Unconventional," was all Gyomei could say.

"I suppose."

"Whose idea was it to open a hospital?"asked Himejima.

"Kanae's. She tried her hardest to pull me away from training."

"But she didn't manage to," Gyomei finished for her.

"But she didn't manage to," Shinobu repeated.

"Why don't you take students?"

"What's this about?"

"Alright,you're a Hashira now, but before? You refused to train us," Shinobu said with a hint of resentment.

"You clearly had fewer missions back then."

"You're right," said Gyomei.

He fell silent, but Shinobu knew that wasn't all. She stayed quiet, giving him time to gather his thoughts and find the strength to say what he so wanted to say.

"Every time I see comrades die,I can't allow myself to get attached to anyone again. And lose them to the hands of those damn..."

Gyomei got angry, gripping the edge of the table. His fingers turned white, and he had to force himself to calm down.

"Demons who, what the hell, think they have the right to take other people's lives..."

"Without feeling any remorse at all..."

"Even enjoying it.Reveling in the screams and the pain they cause," Shinobu finished.

This was good. They finished each other's sentences, voicing thoughts that had been hiding in their heads. It was like meeting a person, not knowing their stance on your enemy, carefully figuring it out, and realizing you hate the same person. This is how Kanae should have reacted. Not pursing her lips and clenching her jaw, not staying silent, but despising them. Wishing death upon those who deserve it. And Shinobu didn't bother hiding her anger from Himejima. She knew he would understand.

***

"Mission! Mission!" a loud cry from the speaker a Kasugai Crow sounded above her head.

Shinobu wiped her hands on a towel,washing off the blood with cold water. She had just finished washing the dishes when the mission notification came. Her first mission.

"Head northwest! Head northwest!" 

"I got it!" she yelled, folding her hands. "No need to shout!"

Facing demons again was both a gift and a curse. A gift because she could kill them. A curse because they could kill her. Blood. Rivers of blood. The most terrible memory, impossible to get rid of. You can throw away unloved clothes, you can burn a failed drawing, but you can't forget this. The most terrible things stay in your memory forever.

Shinobu walked through the rather empty and lonely estate, where only she and her sister lived, to Kanae's room. She knocked, heard an invitation, and entered. For a moment, it seemed like she was home again. The sun was setting, flooding the room with warm light. Kanae's hair shone like gold. Flower arrangements and koto music everywhere. Everything as it should be.

"Kanae?"

"Yes?"she responded, brushing her thick long hair. "I got my first mission."

Kanae immediately jumped up to her.

"A mission?! Where?! When?! And you're going right now…"

"Enoug, Kanae," Shinobu said sternly, and it worked.

"Sorry,I'm just worried."

"That's no reason for hysterics,"Shinobu adjusted the katana on her belt.

"Besides, I'll manage. You know I can kill demons now." Kanae let her go and lowered her head,staring at the floor.

"Well, yes, you're right. Then good luck. Your first mission is important, after all!"

"Of course!"

Shinobu grinned widely, raising her hands up.

"Just be careful."

Shinobu took one last look at her sister,then opened the bedroom door.

"Full speed ahead!"

***

Her legs could barely move, her eyes were glued shut, her whole body ached. She had encountered a demon that could create copies. They were weaker than the original, but she still had a hard time. Shinobu broke three ribs, dislocated her leg, and got a bunch of bruises dodging attacks. Her uniform remained intact, which surprised her the most. Where did they get such durable material? And one that doesn't let cold or heat through either.

She was afraid she'd fall asleep on the way back to the estate, but something caught her attention. Shinobu stopped in the middle of the street in front of a small book kiosk. She already liked the concept itself, but she wasn't in the state for it. A guy in a hunting hat, with a pipe in his mouth. Not knowing why herself, she moved closer, picked up a book.

"The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes." Author – Conan Doyle.

Chapter Text

How can I then return in happy plight

That am debarred the benefit of rest?

When day's oppression is not eased by night,

But day by night and night by day oppressed;

And each (though enemies to either's reign)

Do in consent shake hands to torture me,

The one by toil, the other to complain

How far I toil, still farther off from thee.

I tell the day to please him thou art bright,

And dost him grace when clouds do blot the heaven;

So flatter I the swart-complexioned night,

When sparkling stars twire not thou gild'st the even:

But day doth daily draw my sorrows longer,

And night doth nightly make griefs' strength seem stronger.

— Sonnet 28 by William Shakespeare

August 24, 1916

Those sweet couple of months during which the age difference between Shinobu and Kanae was only two years, and not three, had ended. Kanae had already turned fourteen today. In Shinobu's opinion, this was something between being an adult and being a child. She couldn't outright call Kanae an adult, so she simply considered her… a teenager. That was best.

Shinobu wiped her hands on the apron she was currently wearing. She looked at the perfectly round, slightly smudged, but still beautiful cake. Pink cream and sponge layers soaked with the flavor of blueberries, which she had gathered in their yard. On top, in a thin font, was written in calligraphic handwriting:

"Happy Birthday!"

Perfect. Kanae had been called away on a mission the previous night, so Shinobu was eagerly awaiting her return. And actually, she wasn't the only one.

"Is your sister coming back soon?" the Stone Hashira asked gruffly.

"Gemei, no one dragged you here by your feet," Shinobu said sarcastically. "Even if they had wanted to, they probably wouldn't have succeeded," she added a little more quietly.

"You called me," said Gemei.

"Yes," Shinobu agreed. "You couldn't not come."

Gemei was silent.

"It's Kanae's birthday!"

"So?" asked Gemei, looking directly at her with an unwelcoming gaze. Yes, looking.

"So, you'd better spend a nice day with us than sit around alone in your estate," Shinobu walked over to him. "Only three times a year."

"Three?"

"Gemei," said Shinobu in a tone as if she were talking to a small child. Gemei did not like that. "Each of us was born once."

Now that was news.

Silence fell. Neither of them knew what to say, and each was waiting for the other to make the first move.

"Hello, everyone!" Kanae said cheerfully, entering the estate.

She looked disheveled: a couple of scratches on her cheek, tired eyes, chafed hands, but she continued to smile.

"Mister Himejima!" Unlike her sister, Kanae always addressed Himejima quite familiarly. "I didn't expect to see you here!"

"And in vain!" said Shinobu, pouncing on her sister.

Gemei watched softly from his spot as the two sisters embraced.

"I came at Shinobu's invitation."

"I thought you'd be happy to see each other," she said, still smiling widely.

"Of course I will be, how could one not be happy about such a thing?"

They all sat down at the set table.

"Gemei, how's work as a Hashira?" asked Shinobu, digging into the pie. "Good team?"

"I enjoy working with them. They're good people, and we have no disagreements. It's truly pleasant."

"Then you're lucky," she replied.

"I think a good team is the key to the success of every mission," said Kanae.

Shinobu smirked at that statement.

The rest of the evening was spent discussing everything under the sun. Gemei talked about his new missions, Shinobu chattered nonstop about Sherlock from the book and his faithful friend Watson, and Kanae never stopped laughing.

***

October 7, 1916

Shinobu realized she was in love. It was a man. Smart, handsome, and a drug addict. Sherlock Holmes. Well, of course. She couldn't have not heard of him, but any words people said about this character seemed too naive and unrealistic to pay any attention to, so until this moment she hadn't been acquainted with Sherlock. How she regretted it. That day in August, a collection of stories of an old edition, put up for sale, had fallen into her hands. It was for the best, as she had the opportunity to get to know the hero from the very beginning of his journey. After devouring The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes in one breath, Shinobu dragged Kanae to all the bookstores. Not that she and her sister weren't used to that in their lifetime.

"What attracted you to him so much?" asked Kanae, examining books by Machiavelli.

"Have I said too little about it in the past week?" asked Shinobu, standing on a chair to reach the top shelves. And even then, she wasn't doing very well. Damn height.

"No-o-o," Kanae quickly agreed. "You've talked about it long enough."

"Well, you see," Shinobu swore again and got down from the chair, kicking it away from herself.

"Let me help," said Kanae. "I get the feeling I've already read Sherlock thanks to your endless stories about him."

"Thank you," Shinobu handed her the chair. "I wish the endless stories were his, not mine," she tapped her finger on the name "Conan Doyle". "Otherwise, he just decided to kill Sherlock in one of the books."

"Apparently, he got tired of him just like I did," Kanae got down from the chair and handed her the book.

"Just what I need!" Shinobu smiled joyfully. "His Last Bow. God, he apparently decided to finish off Sherlock again. Poor Watson."

"Listen, Shinobu, let's go home already."

She paid at the checkout with her first Demon Slayer salary. For now, her rank was Mizunoto. The lowest in the organization, and she was paid 20,000 yen monthly, which was quite good. Before, her parents paid for everything, but only now did she realize how expensive everything around her was.

"You have a mission today, don't you?" asked Kanae.

"Yep," replied Shinobu, reading the book on the go.

"I see," Kanae said skeptically.

"You have one too, as far as I know?" asked Shinobu, raising her eyebrows.

"Well," Kanae hesitated. "Yes."

"I see," Shinobu said just as skeptically.

After a second of silence, Kanae and Shinobu laughed. A few passersby turned to look at them in surprise, but the laughter continued to sound on the streets of Tokyo, making children smile.

"I can't understand why we never train together," said Kanae.

"Training right before a mission…" Shinobu looked at her sister nervously, "is a very strange decision."

"You think so?"

"Do you want to go in a dead state?"

"Just warming up a bit certainly won't hurt," Kanae cheerfully put an arm around her shoulders. "Besides, training together is fun!"

Kanae was a very tactile girl and loved to show people her affection. Shinobu, who wasn't particularly known for her desire for physical touch, had already managed to forget about that.

"I'm not arguing with that," Shinobu removed her hands. "But we have different Breathing Styles."

Indeed, different. Insect Breathing was sharp and precise, delivering strikes, thrusts, and small cuts with a specially coated sword so that various poisons would poison the demon, while Flower Breathing imitates flowers and fruits, replicating the user's movements, techniques, and abilities. Most techniques and forms are a combination of elegant attacks that focus primarily on agility.

"Shinobu, even the most incompatible things at first glance can make a wonderful duo," Kanae replied in a calm tone.

She had a face as if she had uttered the greatest wisdom of mankind, and she turned away, looking at the blue sky. Shinobu tiredly rubbed the bridge of her nose.

"Besides, the more we train, the better our styles will combine with each other."

"It's better to train with different opponents and different Breathing Styles to prepare for the most non-standard attacks of a demon," Shinobu stated.

"Exactly!" Kanae exclaimed joyfully, clapping her hands.

***

"Use more steps! Light movement in battle is the most important thing!" Kanae shouted, delivering another blow.

Shinobu raised her katana and parried the incoming attack. Taking her sister's advice, she jumped back, breaking the distance, when she realized she couldn't react well in close combat. Moving away to a decent distance, she simultaneously delivered a strike. Kanae also nimbly jumped away.

"Kanae, you must not forget about the variety of speed of each attack!" Shinobu struck at the thigh.

"Trying," Kanae said, slightly slowing down the technique.

The noise of clashing wood grew shorter and louder, tired voices and dull blows echoed. The dojo was magnificently made. Smooth but non-slip floors, a bright room, conveniently suited for rehabilitation training.

"Whew," Shinobu exhaled, wiping her sweaty forehead with her hand. "I think that's enough for today."

"I think so too," Kanae put the two wooden katanas away.

"Training with you is better than alone," Shinobu tied her hair into a bun. She didn't regret for a second that she hadn't grown it as long as Kanae's.

"I think so too," her sister replied.

"Obviously," Shinobu laughed and got a poke in the ribs.

***

Shinobu left the dojo and headed for the stairs to go up to her amazing room. She needed to change out of her training haori, put on her Demon Slayer uniform, and go to the store for groceries while Kanae was busy with patients. There weren't many of them, so she could handle it alone. After that, she would need to cook something, as cooking was also mainly Shinobu's responsibility. Kanae was responsible for household chores like mopping the floors or dusting.

All in all, there wasn't much to do, which meant she would even have time to improve her katana. If only the upcoming mission wasn't hanging over her like a thundercloud. After the last assignment, Shinobu had spent more than a week in the infirmary, healing the wounds received in battle. The demon was wild but without a Blood Demon Art, which made killing it easier. But it didn't make recovery from broken ribs any easier. The pain was terrible. Who said that on this mission she wouldn't run into an Upper Moon? That was immediate death. Who said she would return to her beloved room and her beloved sister? No one. She had no guarantees on life.

Shinobu descended the long staircase and walked towards the exit of the estate. The autumn weather had already fully set in, blowing cold wind in her face. It was the deep of night outside, which made it even colder.

As she approached her destination, she felt more and more uneasy. Shinobu ran. She sensed a demon nearby, and what was worse, the smell of blood. It was unbearable. It immediately got to her. All the most horrific nightmares came to mind, and the most terrible ones weren't even dreams, but reality. Norman, Kazuki… Takumi. Anger flared up inside her. Why the hell do such creatures exist? They aren't needed for the food chain or anything else that could explain their existence. No one knows where they came from, they just… are.

Getting closer to the estate, she saw a familiar scene. The doors were broken down, on the floor were two bloody figures of a woman and a man, torn apart by the demon. And in the middle of all this carnage, this time, was one little girl. She was trembling, very badly, and had wrapped her arms around herself.

Shinobu acted quickly. The demon lunged at her almost as soon as it noticed her, so she had to dodge the demon's powerful attacks in the confined space. There was a child in the room, and she had to protect her. Even if it cost her her life.

The demon fell. She looked at its disintegrating body with a furious hatred that the face of an eleven-year-old child was incapable of conveying. It was all inside. She quickly calmed herself, almost forcibly, and turned to the little girl. She was about five years old, no more. Oh god.

"Mom… and dad. Are they?" she began to cry.

Shinobu didn't know what to say to her. She carefully knelt down in front of the girl, doing nothing else. Silence was also valuable. She had known that for a long time.

"The evil demon is gone, he won't come back and won't hurt you," she said gently.

The sniffling continued. It was understandable; Shinobu didn't expect that just from these words the girl would immediately jump to her feet and shout something like, "Thank you for comforting me!" Suddenly, a team of Kakushi began to arrive at the scene, starting to clean up the area. The word "clean up" echoed very loudly in Shinobu's head, as it implied the removal of the corpses of this girl's parents. Kanae sometimes felt sick when things got this bad. She could control herself, of course, but it was still too heavy for her kind heart.

"Miss Kocho," one of the Kakushi approached her.

"What is it?" she asked, rising from her crouch.

"We've removed the bodies and cleaned up all traces of the battle," he reported, as if Shinobu were not just a bystander here.

"That's good. What do you plan to do with her?"

"Usually in such cases, we contact the nearest relatives and send the child to them. As a last resort, we send them to an orphanage."

Shinobu remembered that terrible Kocho estate, which was the complete opposite of their family home. It was hard just to be there.

"I… don't have," the girl suddenly began to speak. She was stuttering, "any relatives. None at all."

Goddammit. Shinobu desperately did not want this girl to be sent to some strange orphanage. She knew the quality of such places and what they did to children there. And especially to little girls. Such places were more like prison cells. No, she couldn't allow that.

"None," the girl said more plaintively.

Shinobu looked at the bloodstains located all over the floor.

Well yes, now she really had no relatives.

Chapter Text

When to the sessions of sweet silent thought

I summon up remembrance of things past,

I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought,

And with old woes new wail my dear times' waste:

Then can I drown an eye, unus'd to flow,

For precious friends hid in death's dateless night,

And weep afresh love's long since cancell'd woe,

And moan the expense of many a vanish'd sight:

Then can I grieve at grievances foregone,

And heavily from woe to woe tell o'er

The sad account of fore-bemoaned moan,

Which I new pay as if not paid before.

But if the while I think on thee, dear friend,

All losses are restor'd and sorrows end.

October 30, 1916

After Sumi appeared in their estate, life changed a little. The girl turned out to have no relatives who could take her in, and Shinobu couldn't just leave her alone in a wretched orphanage. The image of the death of two parents before her eyes clouded her mind; it reminded her of the past. This bothered Shinobu a lot, because, actually, she was trying to stop thinking about her parents already. Three damn years had passed.

"And her parents were killed..." Shinobu was saying.

Kanae wasn't looking at her; she was looking at Sumi, who had been brought to the estate to check her condition after the demon attack. Her sister's expression was blank.

"Well, and it turned out she has no other relatives..."

Kanae was silent.

"And that she would end up in a terrible orphanage..."

Kanae was still silent.

"And there's no one to take her in..." Shinobu was losing hope.

Kanae spoke:

"Sorry I didn't answer, I was just thinking which room would be best for her!"

Shinobu had no doubt about her sister's kindness. It was obvious that Kanae, like her, would never abandon a poor child to fate.

"Maybe the one on the first floor?" Shinobu suggested.

"You know, that's actually a good option," Kanae smiled. "It will be closer to the kitchen."

"And to the attic," Shinobu added.

"And to the attic," Kanae agreed.

Smiling at each other, the girls returned to the infirmary, where, besides Sumi, three Demon Slayers were lying. They had been here for more than two weeks, and Shinobu often worked with them on rehabilitation training.

"Excuse me, you said you could train with me one more time," some guy was saying.

"Did I say that?" Shinobu asked incredulously.

"Of course!" the guy said cheerfully. God, what was his name?

"Yes, of course." She had plans for this evening; after all, Sherlock wasn't going to buy himself, although who knew, but if a person needed help, then of course. "I'll train with you."

The guy beamed with joy and quickly began showering her with words of gratitude.

Shinobu's worst enemy was Shinobu.

"You know, Sherlock Holmes said that..." Shinobu suddenly began, but she was interrupted by a loud voice.

"Shinobu!"

"Sorry, but it seems it's time for me to go," she hurried over to the white bed where the little girl was lying.

"Sumi?" Kanae gently sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Mh-hm," the girl mumbled in response, not raising her eyes.

"We wanted to tell you," Kanae began uncertainly, not knowing how to break the news. "That, well. You understand, your parents and..."

"Do you want to live with us?" Shinobu said bluntly.

Kanae looked at her in horror, then back at the girl, waiting for a reaction.

"Of course."

Kanae exhaled.

"That's great!" Shinobu grabbed the girl's hands and led her towards the second bedroom. "You'll be living near me! I sleep right under the roof, and it really can get quite noisy at night, especially if it's raining, but there's so much space! And you'll have your own personal room! You can do anything you want with it!"

Sumi didn't answer, but Shinobu saw her relaxing more and more in her company. The girl had cried for a long time at night after her parents' death, and during the day she would stare out the window for a long, long time. Shinobu had done the same thing when she lived at the Kocho estate. Stared at the ceiling for days, but she was clearly more pathetic than Sumi.

Shinobu flung open the doors to the room, letting in fresh air.

"Ta-da!"

Sumi looked around. The room didn't look magical, quite the opposite. An ordinary bed, a wardrobe for clothes, and a desk.

"Can I draw here?" the girl asked hopefully.

"You need to draw here!" Shinobu said confidently.

Sumi smiled for the first time. She looked truly joyful.

"Is that your hobby?"

"Yes," the girl agreed modestly. "My father was an architect. He showed me his blueprints and taught me how to draw."

Shinobu remembered how Aki would write out prescriptions for her for medicines, and she would create them at home, from gathered plants and other interesting things.

"I was terrible at it," Sumi added, and Shinobu laughed.

"You have to keep at it anyway!" Shinobu said through her tears.

"What's all the noise?" Kanae suddenly poked her head through the door.

"We urgently need to buy drawing supplies!" said Shinobu.

"Sumi, how are you?" Kanae asked tenderly.

"I'm okay," the girl replied shyly, unaccustomed to so much attention.

'The life of a Slayer is war. From the moment you decided to join the Corps until your very death — you are at war. Every year, every month, every day, every second.' Jubeya knew exactly what he was talking about. The life of a Slayer really was a constant war. Every person in this room had witnessed terrible things. Each of them had suffered from demons.

"Well, that's good," Kanae says and falls silent.

A silence hangs, which is quickly eroded by Shinobu's words.

"Speaking of, it's just like in Sherlock! When he..."

"No!" Kanae interrupts her with a loud plea, causing Shinobu to start laughing again, this time much harder.

Kanae and Sumi eventually burst into laughter too. And suddenly, in the room, it's just sisters again, happy about a funny situation.

***

Deep night had fallen over the city, covering every centimeter of the beautiful square. The time hadn't yet fallen past one in the morning, but the moon was positioned very low. The full moon was blinding, though it gave no warmth. Someone was fighting on missions right now. Someone was dying at the hands of demons right now.

She hadn't been sent on a mission today, as she had completed two yesterday and had one tomorrow, but that didn't save her from killer training sessions—two of them, because-she-for-some-reason-wished-to-train-one-more-time. And now this tired body was standing under the large oak doors of the bookstore. In her hands, she already held stationery and art supplies for Sumi. She wanted to cheer the girl up somehow.

The moon was still hanging on the horizon. Once, Van Gogh, Plato, and Shakespeare had looked upon it. Now, she was looking at it. Silver and incomprehensible, somewhere very far away.

"Is the moon so beautiful?" she asked the first person she met.

"Um," the guy said uncertainly. "Yes? I've never thought about it."

Shinobu recognized that voice.

"Tomioka?"

Tomioka remained silent in response. Yes, it's definitely him. Even though they had only met once, she recognized him without looking at him and even remembered his name. It was very strange. Shinobu looked him over. His wavy hair grew even longer, his blue eyes were wide open, and he looked serious, as if Yoshihito¹ himself was standing in front of him.

"I think you want to learn more about Conan Doyle," she said confidently.

Shinobu didn't want to spend a few more hours alone, because while she was skimping in the bookstore, and after she returned to the estate, it would take at least two hours (the time to choose a book cannot be limited to half an hour), so Tomioka was the perfect victim.

"Conan Doyle?" he asked.

"He wrote many good works."

"I'm not arguing."

They were silent. Shinobu took matters into her own hands. Literally. She grabbed Tomioka by the forearm and led him into the bookstore. Passing between different shelves, she finally saw the sign "Detectives."

"This way," she said.

Tomioka obediently followed her.

"Here," she pointed at A Study in Scarlet. "This is the perfect place to start."

Tomioka uncertainly removed her hand. He took a deep breath.

"I need to train," he sounded very tired.

"We all need to train," Shinobu pointed to the "Slayer" inscription on his uniform.

"No," Giyuu shook his head. "I need to do it more often than others. I must train more."

Shinobu rolled her eyes.

She already knew that Tomioka had passed the final selection a year before her. If you pay attention to the fact that when Kanae told this, she looked sad, and Tomioka studied with the same mentor as Sabito, but he was not famous for his good fencing skills before the Final selection, and after that he rose four ranks higher in a short time, it becomes obvious that Sabito is Tomioka's friend, because of whose loss Tomioka is constantly working hard in training, trying to train his skills as best as possible and become stronger. This also leads to a closed behavior and a detached manner of speech.

"You know that not training at all and training too much are the same thing."

Tomioka sharply raised his head.

"What do you mean?"

"Exactly what I said."

He was still stubbornly looking at her.

Apparently, someone was constantly neglecting to rest. 

Although this is due to the loss of a dear person, Shinobu wanted to swear at Giyu for his superficial attitude towards his own body. But she couldn't because she understood him too well.

Shinobu put her hands on her hips.

"If you push yourself too hard in training, you'll kill your body, not build it up. Rest is the most important part of it. Your muscles simply don't have time to recover if you don't give them time."

Tomioka looked dejected.

"So what should I do then?"

"Think," was all she said.

Tomioka was silent. This was natural for him, so Shinobu was about to start proving common facts to him again. But unexpectedly, he spoke.

"A Study in Scarlet, you say?"

Shinobu beamed. People in the store were looking at them disapprovingly. Not only was it late, but they also had strange clothes. Not to mention the katanas on their belts. But that never bothered her.

"Yes, the story tells..." Shinobu took the book in her hands and delved into a lengthy retelling of the events, trying to engage Tomioka.

They sat right on the floor of the bookstore, leaning their backs against the shelves and looking at the book. Shinobu quoted almost every word from memory, occasionally glancing at the pages of the Study. Tomioka was the first person who listened to her so attentively. It seemed he was genuinely interested in learning exactly how Sherlock and Watson unraveled this case, who turned out to be guilty, what happened to whom. He even asked questions when he heard something interesting or intriguing. Shinobu was very happy to answer them.

Chapter Text

No more be grieved at that which thou hast done:

Roses have thorns, and silver fountains mud;

Clouds and eclipses stain both moon and sun,

And loathsome canker lives in sweetest bud.

All men make faults, and even I in this,

Authorizing thy trespass with compare,

Myself corrupting, salving thy amiss,

Excusing thy sins more than thy sins are;

For to thy sensual fault I bring in sense -

Thy adverse party is thy advocate -

And 'gainst myself a lawful plea commence:

Such civil war is in my love and hate

That I an accessary needs must be

To that sweet thief which sourly robs from me.

– Sonnet 35

November 2, 1916.

A good mood had been clinging to Shinobu for a very long time. She was literally glowing, running around the estate and helping every person in her line of sight. She would have never thought that simply being listened to was all it would take for Shinobu's happiness meter to try and explode. Kanae was always happy to listen to absolutely everything her sister had to say, but Shinobu was too self-conscious to do it as often as she needed to. And Tomioka, well… If he had said that he really needed to leave, that he was very, very busy, she wouldn't have handcuffed him, tied him to a chair, and forced him to listen. Shinobu got very busy too, so she understood others perfectly well. But Tomioka didn't do that. On the contrary, he just sat there and listened attentively.

And so, in this blissful state, she was currently making the bed of a patient who had already been discharged and had even left on a mission. Shinobu was smiling to herself, and Kanae was nervous. She just wasn't used to this kind of behavior from her sister.

"Kanae," Shinobu didn't even look at her. "You're going to burn a hole through me with your staring any second now."

Kanae jerked away from her sharply, turning abruptly towards the window as if she had been sitting like that all along and hadn't been openly staring.

"It's just a little interesting, where this positive mood is coming from. As far as I know, you finished your last mission well, but that never caused such bright emotions before."

Shinobu smiled even wider. Ouch. She almost felt her mouth trying to tear.

"It was always there," she shook her head. "I just didn't feel like smiling before, but now I do."

"Everything's clear." Kanae nodded her head confidently, closing her eyes.

She looked as if she had just uttered the wisest thing in the world and was now giving her time to digest this unfathomable truth in her head. Perhaps it really was unfathomable, because Shinobu couldn't guess what conclusions her dear sister had come to.

"What's 'clear'?"

"Everything."

Shinobu skeptically continued to stare at her sister with a stubborn look. She was terrified of what Kanae might have concocted in her mind.

"Kanae, don't keep me in suspense."

"Alright," Kanae pointed at the beds quite pleased with herself. "Being in love is a complicated thing."

"Oh my god!" Shinobu fell onto the made bed, crumpling it in her fists and wanting to scream at the top of her lungs. Hmm, but nothing was stopping her. "Why am I not surprised?!"

Some guy, whatever his name was, flinched in his spot, glancing nervously in their direction.

"What is it?" Kanae giggled.

"You're still asking?!"

Shinobu wailed louder into the pillow.

The guy ran out of the room in fear, leaving the two of them alone.

Kanae laughed loudly from her spot.

"You're exactly like our mother! She always reduced everything to being in love, too!" Shinobu almost felt sick from that last word.

Kanae didn't know that Shinobu would have reacted completely differently if she had started to like Tomioka. But she hadn't. Tomioka was gloomy, a little creepy when he constantly stares silently at your face while you're sort of talking to him. He's not the kind of person who suits her taste. Although she doesn't know what her tastes are, she's eleven and she's never been in love with anyone to know what suits her, but that's not important.

"Shinobu, being in love is wonderful!" Kanae was practically bouncing with joy. "It changes people!"

"Why are you so sure about that?" Shinobu asked suspiciously.

Kanae blushed, quickly changing the subject to a new one.

"Better tell me, who's the lucky guy!"

Shinobu smirked. "Lucky guy." Her beloved certainly wouldn't be lucky with her. For a great many reasons. The smile slid off her face because of that. A girl who's always standing out, with short hair on top of that, doing "men's" work and creating poisons. Yeah right.

"No one," Shinobu got up and was now resting on her elbows, watching her sister. "Speaking of lucky guys, I heard you got promoted again."

Intrigued, Kanae straightened up to look more confident.

"Yes, actually it was a very difficult mission," Kanae admitted. "Four Slayer casualties and a dozen wounded people. The demon had a wide attack trajectory, which caused its Blood Demon Art to hit residential houses." Kanae looked dejected.

"It's a good thing you managed to defeat that demon," Shinobu said sharply, trying to cheer her up.

Kanae smiled gratefully.

"You haven't been a Mizunoto for a long time yourself either."

"Kanae, I'm nowhere near you," Shinobu said seriously.

"Don't be modest," Kanae smiled.

"Me?!" Shinobu exclaimed. "Be modest?!"

Kanae laughed.

"Well, I never," Shinobu falls onto the bed emptily, after which Kanae walks over to her with slow steps, lying down next to her. They just continue to stare at the ceiling, thinking about their own personal things.

"Thank you for your gift," Kanae nodded at her haori, on which a butterfly wing pattern was blooming. "It fits me perfectly."

"We'll have matching clothes now, not just katanas, so don't thank me," Shinobu throws out carelessly, but still reaches out her hand and gently strokes the edges of the haori, smoothing out the folds.

Such closeness between them had been natural since childhood, which is why Shinobu was never afraid to get too close to her sister, to touch her in a certain way, to sit improperly. No. Shinobu always felt comfortable in her sister's company.

Because she was her sister. Her own flesh and blood. They had adopted Sumi (though Shinobu had insisted on at least doing some paperwork or trying to apply for guardianship, because just taking someone else's child seemed like a dubious decision to her, but Kanae, in turn, had just brushed her off, saying they would only mess things up more), but Sumi wasn't Kanae. Shinobu was convinced that between her and Kanae there was an invisible bond that not even dozens of kilometers could break.

And Sumi… She didn't know what to call it. Sumi wasn't related to them, so she wasn't a sister, since that contradicts the very meaning of the word "sister," but at the same time, Shinobu felt much more pleasant around her than with the other children they sometimes looked after. It was very strange.

"Did you do your hair?" Shinobu asked. "It looks a bit… fluffy?"

"That's called volume," Kanae corrected her, smoothing down a stray strand. "And no. I just went to bed with wet hair."

"You shouldn't go to bed with wet hair," she smirked, as if scolding her sister.

"You shouldn't throw indelible chemicals on the windows of all the people you don't like," Kanae retorted.

Shinobu opened her mouth in offended surprise.

***

"Sumi, are you finished?" Shinobu was carrying a large pile of bedding.

Sumi, who was currently hanging the laundry outside, turned to her, smiling. Shinobu and Kanae had insisted that if she didn't want to, she didn't have to help them with household chores. Sumi was five, soon to be six, and she could allow herself some rest. Especially considering everything that had happened. But the girl fiercely refused, saying she didn't like just doing nothing (even after Shinobu reminded her that Sumi enjoyed drawing, which definitely couldn't be called doing nothing). Now the cold air was blowing on their faces. Shinobu liked doing laundry in the summer because in winter it took too much effort and time, though she was eager to try new methods she had somehow read about in the book "50 Tips for the Housewife" (Shinobu usually didn't waste time on such books, but she really wanted to help her sister, so she had to make sacrifices).

"Yes!" said Sumi, stepping away from the drying rack.

"Okay," Shinobu put the heavy basket of laundry, which almost outweighed her, on the ground and began hanging the clothes.

"Do you have training today?"

"Oh, Sumi, I have training every day," Shinobu ran a hand over her tired body. "Almost."

"But you're always so busy," Sumi said dryly, and Shinobu didn't understand what she was getting at.

"I wouldn't say that."

"You both try so hard. You organized a whole hospital for Demon Slayers. You treat dozens of people every day, go on missions, and get seriously wounded. You, on top of all that, even manage to create poisons for missions and medicines for the sick. Kanae is very good at stitching up cuts. And those intense trainings. I can't imagine much more work," Sumi said more quietly. "That's why I want to help."

Shinobu felt a bit downcast from the girl's words. They'd already had to introduce this poor child to the essence of the organization (even though that damn demon had done it before them). And now she was making her feel these emotions.

"You know, I need to buy some herbs for medicine, you could help me with that," Shinobu forced out.

It wouldn't require anything from Sumi except pleasant company, so it seemed like the most appropriate request to calm the girl down.

Sumi beamed.

"That would be amazing!"

***

"I saw a great pharmacy not far from here, it's right on the main street," Shinobu pointed to the large sign of the building. She had shopped here a couple of times, so the place was tried and true.

Tokyo was flourishing. The Second Industrial Revolution was simply wonderful. Unlike the first industrial revolution, which is characterized by the emergence of innovative technologies, the second was much more about improving existing methods and tools, and enhancing the interaction between them. That's what the book said, the time for which Shinobu had carved out while waiting for her preparation to heat up, because the rest of the time she was too busy. Too busy for books! According to her parents (who were actually born after the start of the industrial revolution), prices used to be sky-high but dropped significantly with increased labor productivity and the number of offerings in the economy. Shinobu cursed the First World War with all her soul, because of which the industrial revolution came to an end in 1914.

After she decided to become a Demon Slayer, this issue no longer concerned her, as she was too tired to keep up with the world situation and relations between countries.

"Shinobu!" Sumi called out to her.

"Oh, yes?!"

"Are we going?"

It turned out they had been standing in front of the entrance all this time. Letting a few disgruntled people pass by, Shinobu entered the pharmacy, holding the heavy door open for Sumi.

Waiting for her turn, Shinobu listed all the necessary ingredients to the man who looked more like a talking eggplant. He turned out to be quite good at pharmacology and didn't even ask her to repeat things several times, like many other sellers Shinobu had bought from did.

"And the last one," the man said, placing a bag that smelled brightly of sweet herbs on the counter. He looked at them strangely, furrowing his brows.

Shinobu took out her wallet to pay. Just recently, her rather substantial salary had come in (at least there was some plus to working for the organization), so her wallet had noticeably fattened.

"Why do such lovely maidens," the man asked suspiciously, "need so many herbs? Many of them aren't used in medicine regularly and are used very, very rarely. And this isn't your first time coming here."

Shinobu really hoped the man had made that comment about their appearance out of nobility, and not because he actually enjoyed observing the appearance of an eleven-year-old and a five-year-old child.

"These herbs are needed to avoid unpleasant situations."

"And what kind of unpleasant situations are you expecting?" the man asked grimly.

Shinobu's eyes went wide.

"You think I want to do something dangerous?"

The man remained gloomily silent, and that was enough.

"Oh my god!" Shinobu looked very shocked, while an embarrassed Sumi stood behind her. "Did you think the same the previous times I came?"

"Yes."

"Oh, come on, what do you think I could be plotting?"

"Something terrible," the man said grimly. "I've spoken with you a couple of times, so I'm afraid it will end with you overthrowing our ruler and becoming the new Emperor of Japan."

"Empress, if we're being precise."

Shinobu stared sarcastically at the man's serious face for a few moments, and then was genuinely surprised.

"Oh, so you're serious…"

"I am."

"Why do precautionary measures seem suspicious to you?" she asked.

"Because eleven-year-old girls shouldn't be thinking about such things! Adults handle them."

"Everyone should take precautions. To avoid harming themselves or others," Shinobu explained calmly.

"They shouldn't. Children definitely shouldn't," he looked her up and down. "Unless… You're not involved in some shameful work, are you?"

Shinobu immediately understood what he was talking about, quickly slapping a stack of money on the counter and throwing out a very malicious "Keep the change" in response, which somehow sounded like an insult. He was hinting at the red-light district. Or any other kind of prostitution. Yes, child labor was far too common in their country. In their world. Shinobu was glad not to think about it as often as possible, but people loved to remind her. People were looking at her right now with eyes that made a lump form in her throat. If so many people looked at her, thought she was involved in that kind of thing… Considered her a fallen woman, while she spent all her strength protecting them… It was unbearable. She felt naked in the clothes she was supposed to wear with pride.

"He shouldn't have said that," Sumi said carefully.

"No," Shinobu whispered viciously. "To think of Demon Slayers as whores, that's… That's."

"WHAT?!" a furious voice yelled from behind her.

Shinobu immediately knew it was a human, but it still took a lot of effort not to draw her sword. The girls turned around simultaneously to see an enraged guy with a bunch of scars and bright white hair sticking out in all directions, which clearly no one had ever combed. He didn't have a sword, but his hands were calloused, like from the fabric of a katana hilt, and he was very indignant at her words… A future Demon Slayer. If he survives the selection.

"WHO THINKS THAT?!" he exclaimed.

Shinobu immediately sensed a perfect opportunity.

"The man from the pharmacy across the street," she pointed to the building. "I want to get back at him."

"Let's go then," he was already heading forward when Shinobu grabbed his arm.

"Hey, just beating him up is boring. We'll act more humanely."

Well, 'humanely' was debatable.

The guy stopped. Looked at her like she'd killed his mother, but stopped.

"My name is Shinobu Kocho," she patted him on the shoulder. "Let's blow up his shop."

***

Sanemi was terribly pleased with their plan. He turned out to be a really good guy who was willing to do anything to help the girls, and Shinobu deeply appreciated that.

"He's already seen us, but if you go in and ask him to come outside to show you 'which specific flowers you need but don't know the name of,' then we can get inside and place a homemade bomb right on his counter," Shinobu explained.

"And what will it do?" Sanemi asked suspiciously.

"That's the best part," Shinobu grinned. "It'll explode and just cover all the walls in a foul-smelling liquid that, on top of everything else, will be almost impossible to wash off. No one gets hurt, and we're happy."

"Hey," Sanemi punched one fist into the other, "sounds great."

"I think the plan is wonderful," Sumi said cheerfully.

They were sitting in Shinobu's poison-cooking lab. Yes, a separate room was needed for that, as even small amounts of chemicals with prolonged exposure could affect people badly. And she had poisons… Even Shinobu sometimes wore a mask when working with preparations.

"I'd still happily beat the crap out of him afterward," Sanemi added.

"That's just cruel," said Sumi.

Shinobu didn't want to take a five-year-old, but it would be unfair to her.

"I don't think we'll need to," Shinobu shrugged. "If anything, we can bomb his windows from the outside again."

"From the outside, and if we're seen, then bomb him too," Sanemi egged her on.

"Shinobu said we could bomb him!" Sumi nodded happily, addressing the guy.

"Yeah! And everyone who's unhappy!" Sanemi smiled, though it looked more like a vicious snarl. Maybe it was.

"Everyone-everyone!" Sumi laughed.

"That is definitely not what I meant."

***

The man came out of the shop, cursing at Sanemi, but still obediently explaining the properties of all the flowers. They had picked a time when there would be no other customers. Shinobu carefully observed everything from the roof. She just needed to crawl to the window, calmly toss the bomb inside, and climb down to a safe distance to enjoy the show.

Almost everything was perfect, except for the fact that the window was closed.

"Damn it," she took a small hairpin and slipped it into the lock.

After a few agonizing seconds, the window gave way, and she was able to grab the homemade bomb and toss it inside.

Bullseye.

Right in the middle of the table lay a small pouch, which, upon hitting the wood hard, began to distort slightly. She coughed loudly, signaling Sanemi, and jumped down.

"So how did it go?" asked Sanemi.

"Without a hitch," Shinobu lied.

Sumi gave her a reproachful look.

Oh, right, she saw everything.

"Look," all three watched intently through the windows as the owner enters the pharmacy, starts approaching the counter, and then, even through the walls, an angry tirade full of insults aimed at everything under the sun could be heard.

Shinobu and Sanemi had to clutch their stomachs from laughter. They were bent double, and the loud noises attracted the attention of a very interested woman.

"Did you do that?!" she asked sternly.

The laughter stopped.

Shinobu, Sanemi, and Sumi stood at attention before her. The woman instilled fear with just her gaze, as if saying, "I know everything you're thinking."

"No…" Shinobu answered uncertainly.

"You did it."

Shinobu tried to keep a straight face and gave herself away.

"Give me your address. Your parents will be very disappointed in you."

Oh, she was wrong on three counts there.

Shinobu, Sanemi, and Sumi exchanged glances. Parents. Right.

The woman apparently realized she'd said something wrong, but she didn't plan to back down.

"We live at 221B Baker Street," said Shinobu, batting her eyelashes.

"Is your name Sherlock?" the woman arched one eyebrow.

Shinobu's mouth fell open in surprise.

"You've read it?!"

"Of course. Now I want to hear the real address."

Shinobu calmed down. Now they'd name some random house far away, and when the woman turned to look for it, they'd run awa—

"Tokyo Prefecture, Takinogawa Village, Kitashima District," Sumi reported.

WHY?! WHY DID SHE GIVE THE REAL ADDRESS?!

"That's wonderful," the woman smiled, and Shinobu's whole body went stiff.

***

Evening had fallen, arriving much earlier than it had a month ago. Shinobu, Sanemi, and Sumi had successfully escaped from that terrifying woman. Obviously, no one would be so interested in a homemade bomb incident to report it to others, so Shinobu felt quite relaxed washing the dishes.

Soon it would be Christmas, which meant she could finally celebrate the holiday with her family. Kanae and her. And, of course, Sumi. Maybe they could convince Gyoumei to join them. Shinobu felt sorry for that man. He spent so much time in complete solitude. Gyoumei deserved better, so they had to try. He’d already agreed to come for Kanae's birthday, so they had a chance.

"Shinobu," Kanae called sternly.

"Yes?"

"I just spoke with Mrs. Murine, who was very displeased with your behavior."

A plate slipped from Shinobu's hands, shattering in the sink.

Silence hung in the air.

"Ye-e-es?" she drawled, awaiting her sister's reaction.

"You don't want to explain to me why, immediately after I told you not to throw chemicals at people's windows—" Kanae wasn't smiling.

How did it all go so wrong.

"You know, I thought you meant I should do it in a reasonable manner."

"That is definitely not what I said."

"I like to read between the lines," Shinobu smiled.

Chapter Text

When thou shalt be disposed to set me light,

And place my merit in the eye of scorn,

Upon thy side against myself I'll fight,

And prove thee virtuous, though thou art forsworn:

With mine own weakness being best acquainted,

Upon thy part I can set down a story

Of faults concealed wherein I am attainted,

That thou in losing me shall win much glory;

And I by this will be a gainer too,

For, bending all my loving thoughts on thee,

The injuries that to myself I do,

Doing thee vantage, double vantage me.

Such is my love, to thee I so belong,

That for thy right myself will bear all wrong.

7 November 1916

"We need to cut the demon off from the village as fast as possible!" Shinobu shouts, starting to sprint towards the fiend.

Right now, she was somewhere three towns over from Tokyo, but it wasn't as far as it could have been, since Demon Slayers were sent all over Japan.

"Can you hold him back?" asks the Kinoe-ranked Slayer, running through the trees to perform a maneuver.

"I'll try to lead him to the northeastern side of the forest, lure him into a closed-off part, and you two will strike twice and cut off his head," Shinobu somehow quickly took on the role of commander in their mission, but since everyone liked her combat tactics so far, no one complained.

The demon resembled a very strange wild animal, and for some reason, it was desperately trying to break through to the town and its inhabitants. It wasn't even paying much attention to the Slayers, which could play into their hands.

"Come on, I'm ready, damn it!" the demon suddenly starts using Blood Demon Art.

They had been fighting it for an hour, and since it hadn't used Blood Demon Art until now, Shinobu thought it didn't have any. She was wrong.

"It broke through to the town!" one of the two other Slayers shouts.

Shinobu hisses under her breath from a sharp pain in her chest, but pulls herself together and starts running towards the town. The outermost houses had already been damaged by the demon, and she just hoped there were no casualties yet.

"We need to evacuate the residents!" she announces into the air.

"That will take too much time!" a Slayer disagrees with her. She wants to kill him. "It's better to focus all our efforts on killing the demon!"

"Faster doesn't mean better!" she argues.

The demon had already directed its attack towards one of the residential houses, preparing to strike a heavy blow. People, awakened by the loud noises, ran out into the street.

"Leave the area! It's dangerous here!" Shinobu tries to warn as many people as possible, but with all the background noise, she's almost inaudible.

"Hey, he broke a residential building!" Fighter shouts. 

"We need to act against his blood magic," Shinobu thinks. 

"And what will be the best thing to do?"

 He asked her, and who should she ask? 

"We can still try to implement the old plan," the guy suggests. 

"It's out of the question, the new circumstances are clearly not meant for that."

"We need to protect the civilians first," he suggests. 

"I agree," Shinobu jumps down from the tree. 

So far, the demon is being held back by a single Exterminator, but he needs help. 

"I'm going to try to lure him out of the city, maybe we can minimize the casualties," Shinobu shouts, gripping her katana tightly. 

"You should say, 'There won't be any casualties at all,'" the Exterminator looks at her boldly, but Shinobu doesn't believe him. 

The demon is incredibly powerful, and several houses have been destroyed. No, it won't work without sacrifices.

It's too late.

A little girl, no older than Sumi, is sitting on the road. Right where the demon is now aiming. Goddammit, why are children so stupid! Shinobu gets closer to her, grabbing her with her hands to protect her.

"Kocho, be careful!"

But she no longer hears him.

***

Shinobu had never suffered any injuries related to her head, so that was probably one reason why it was so hard for her to understand her sensations. First, a strong impact to the head, the very next moment a slight crack, then something wet dripping onto her hands, and nothing but pain. The pain was literally splitting her skull open.

"Shinobu, you must listen to your parents!"

"No, why do you always ruin everything! We were having so much fun!" Shinobu shouts.

Aki is angry.

Why did their last evening together have to end like this?

Aki is covered in blood, he's holding his wife just like Kanae held her once. They are in pain.

Shinobu stares with emptiness in her eyes at her parents' bodies.

"Why?" It's Kanae's voice.

When Shinobu turns around, she sees her sister. Her body is slashed open, and blood is flowing from her eyes.

"Kanae! My God, what happened?!" Shinobu is in a panic. If she had already gotten used to nightmares involving her parents, her sister had not yet taken on this terrible role. A part of Shinobu understands this is a dream, but the second part, the one creating this dream, has no intention of stopping.

"You, you..." Kanae coughs and falls to her knees.

"Kanae, you need to calm down, Kanae, please, let me help you," Shinobu can't keep the tremor out of her voice.

It's painful just to look at this, even knowing it's not real.

Shinobu is lying on cold bed linen; it's clean and smells accordingly. Like flowers. The sun is blinding her eyes, making them water. The sun?

"What?!" Shinobu jumped out of bed and immediately regretted it. Her head exploded with sharp pain, forcing her to lie back down and hate the very fact of her existence.

"Oh God, she's finally come to," the nurse ran out of the room.

Shinobu used the opportunity to curse the demon with a three-story-high string of expletives. Looking out the window, she realized she was now in some local hospital. She wondered if they had managed to defeat the demon? She had been out cold all night, which made her berate herself now.

The nurse returned to the room, and the same girl was walking beside her.

"You were brought to us last night; two strangely dressed boys carried you in," the nurse looked her over from head to toe. "You have a severe head wound, possibly a concussion. Your cracked skull will take several months to heal, during which time it's best to observe bed rest."

Shinobu listened to her, and a throbbing started in her head. Where was she supposed to find several months of freedom? Rest was out of the question, but she'd at least like to find the strength to go to the bathroom.

"Do you need anything?" the nurse asked with concern.

"No, thank you. I'll call if I need anything," Shinobu replied.

"Well, alright," the nurse nodded her head. "Kiyo, be careful."

The nurse left, and the girl stayed. Shinobu scanned the nasty, unpainted walls with her eyes, noted how much better their hospital was compared to this one, and turned to the girl.

"Yes?"

"I wanted to thank you," Kiyo spoke in a very quiet voice. Her eyes were red, which spoke of no small number of shed tears. "You saved me. My father died during that demon's attack. If it weren't for you, I would have died too."

Shinobu felt uncomfortable. She, of course, had also thanked Gemiye for saving her, but that happened half a month after her parents' death. And Kiyo was doing it on the very same day.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't worry, I—" Kiyo fell silent, and then her face stretched in fright.

She was looking at the window.

Shinobu turned around and, in horror, discovered that on the second floor, somewhere above, looking at them through the window was... Tomioka Giyuu.

"What the hell?!"

"Sorry, could you open the window?" he asked, and Shinobu, horrified, reached for the window handle. Then she asked:

"What are you doing here?"

Tomioka caught his breath, maintaining his distance, moved about two meters away from them. He looked tense.

"I was on a mission in the neighboring town, and rumors about what happened here reached me. Since the town is close to the capital, people don't believe in demons, and they couldn't believe that demons killed three people from the Tamaraka district." Giyuu paused for a moment. Probably for dramatic effect. "But they saw you with katanas in your hands."

Shinobu didn't speak immediately, though she understood the scale of the problem instantly. So, if the rumors had spread all the way to neighboring towns, what would happen here?

"We need to get back quickly," she said.

"Yeah," Giyuu said in a rough voice. "See this?"

Shinobu looked out the window, but this time down. Right outside, no less than a dozen angry people with weapons were entering the hospital.

"Do they want to take the law into their own hands?" she asked slowly.

Giyuu slowly nodded.

Goddammit.

"I think we can reason with them," Giyuu said in a calm tone.

Shinobu was very surprised when she realized just how poor Tomioka's understanding of other people's relationships was.

"Yeah, yeah, people also thought the Titanic would never sink, but what happened four years ago?"

"The Titanic went to the bottom," Tomioka replied gloomily.

"Nose-first," Shinobu added. "My God, we won't be able to reason with them. They have knives in their hands! And I even saw someone with a revolver."

"You have vision that good?" Kiyo asked.

"Yes, it's just my hearing that's terrible, but that's not important, you'd better get out of here."

Outside, the sun was already setting, the moon beginning to crawl over the horizon.

"Then I—" Kiyo was interrupted.

"What are you doing here?!"

"It's somewhere on the second floor! Catch her! Two already got away, but the third one's unconscious!"

"Everyone, to the roof!" Giyuu grabbed Shinobu's hand, who in turn grabbed Kiyo.

The door to the room swung open, and no less than ten people burst in.

"They're running away!"

"Catch them!"

"Don't let them get away!"

Shinobu fell to her knees, clutching her head. It was so damn painful. Her skull had been cracked into several pieces during the night, and it was still cracked. For a few seconds, everything turned white before her eyes, then went dark. She was thrown from one extreme to another as one of the men tried to climb onto the roof. Such a sharp pain, concentrated in specific areas of her head, was stronger than her.

"Shinobu, I understand everything, but we really need to go," Giyuu was holding Kiyo in his arms while simultaneously trying to help Shinobu up.

"I'm trying."

"Trying isn't enough, you need to do it."

"I can't do more than I can do."

"You have to try harder! Are you going to tell the demon 'I can't' too?"

Shinobu didn't know she could be pissed off so abruptly. Once, Gemei had told her the same words, and Shinobu had been struck by their stupidity and cruelty, because Gemei knew they couldn't lift the rock, and when they told him so, Himejima spouted such nonsense, making them out to be the guilty ones.

"Listen here," Shinobu managed to get to her feet and grabbed Giyuu by the edges of his haori. "You bastard, if I say I'm trying my hardest, then it fucking means I'm trying my hardest. Even if I tried harder, I'd just push myself too far! Or get a hemorrhoid. I don't like either option."

Giyuu looked scared.

Shinobu fell against his shoulder, and the cold of his body slightly alleviated her headache. She said:

"We should just get downstairs, and I have a plan from there."

Giyuu stood rooted to the spot.

"Giyuu?"

He continued standing.

"We don't have time for this, what is it?" she asked.

"You..." his face was crimson. "Step back."

"I'm not just stepping back, I'm running," she grabbed the edges of his haori again, and they ran towards the fire escape.

In 1892, Henry Ford created the first automobile, but he could barely drive it properly on the road in Detroit because people surrounded him on all sides. Two years ago, he started an assembly line with an internal combustion engine running on gasoline, and cars began to be produced by the millions all over the world. Japan wasn't left out either, making it a rarity to walk down the street without seeing a car.

"Shinobu, what are we doing?" Giyuu asked fearfully.

Right now, the three of them were sitting in a Ford automobile. Shinobu was trying to start it without keys, Kiyo just looked surprised by everything happening, and Giyuu was nervous.

"We're trying to escape from the furious mob," Shinobu explained.

"I understand, but why like this?" Giyuu kept whining.

"Because my head hurts, and I'm not going to run. Running doesn't just split my head, it literally kills me," Shinobu hissed rudely. In her hands, she held three wires of the same color, trying to guess which one to connect to which.

"They've run out into the street!" Kiyo was looking out the rear window.

The car started, and Shinobu hit the gas, starting to drive down the road. Yes, she had stolen a car, yes, it was very bad. But it was better than dying.

"Turn left, towards the lake," Tomioka suggested.

At the alley, Shinobu turned the steering wheel to the left, and they slowly drove out to the shoreline of a small lake. Her heart was pounding like crazy. Pure adrenaline—that's what makes life worth living. Giyuu looked out each window in turn, Kiyo just sat quietly in her seat, and Shinobu smiled.

"What are you so happy about?" Giyuu asked incredulously.

"I'm just having fun," Shinobu smiled at him.

"Yeah, right, as if there's anything to be happy about here."

"I'm not happy, I'm just having fun."

Giyuu nodded.

Shinobu was driving along a narrow section of the road, which was even starting to crumble at the edges. She just hoped everything would be okay. Turning on the headlights, she needed to go just a little further, and she could get out on the outskirts of the town, and the car would be found somehow later.

For a second, the headlights went out, and Shinobu didn't see that the road ahead was gone. It had completely collapsed, causing the car, with three piercing screams, to head straight into the surface of the lake.

"Oh my God!" Giyuu screamed as the cold water began to fill the car's interior. "Why does something like this always happen with you?!"

"I don't know, Tomioka," Shinobu helped Kiyo to the surface. "I guess you just have to be born this way."

"You can't be born like you," Giyuu was indignant. "You already exist, you can't make a second person like you!"

It was meant to be an insult, but Shinobu didn't hear anything bad directed at her, which made her force a smile. Her head was already ceasing to show signs of life from such adventures.

Shinobu unbuckled her seatbelt.

"Swim out!"

Having fought her way through the icy water to the surface of the lake, Shinobu coughed. The cold temperature helped reduce her headache a little.

"What are we going to do now that we've drowned someone else's car..." Giyuu muttered dejectedly.

The car was sinking to the bottom of the lake very quietly and very quickly, so much so that it was already out of sight.

Shinobu looked at Kiyo, then at Giyuu, and said:

"What car?"

Giyuu looked surprised.

"We just drowned a car..."

"No," she theatrically looked around. "Kiyo, do you see a car here?"

Kiyo immediately understood her and smiled.

"No, I don't see anything."

Giyuu finally returned to normal. His shoulders stopped shaking, and he calmed down.

"Let's get out of here."

Walking away from the lake, leaving three trails of wet footprints, Giyuu adds:

"You're not going to let this go, are you."

Shinobu smiles.

"I'll pay him back."

Three days later, a large sum of money, equivalent to three months of one girl's salary, appears on the car owner's desk.

Chapter Text

From fairest creatures we desire increase,

That thereby beauty's rose might never die,

But as the riper should by time decease,

His tender heir might bear his memory:

But thou, contracted to thine own bright eyes,

Feed'st thy light's flame with self-substantial fuel,

Making a famine where abundance lies,

Thyself thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel.

Thou that art now the world's fresh ornament

And only herald to the gaudy spring,

Within thine own bud buriest thy content,

And, tender churl, mak'st waste in niggarding:

Pity the world, or else this glutton be,

To eat the world's due, by the grave and thee.

(Sonnet 1 by William Shakespeare)

November 27, 1916.

Shinobu winced from a headache. Ever since she had split her skull open during one of her missions, she had started getting migraines from time to time. At first, it seemed like a minor issue, but as more time passed, even the slightest thing, like a door slamming, the clatter of dishes, or a cough, would trigger an explosion in her head, nothing like the ordinary pain from an injured area of bone. This caught Shinobu completely off guard.

Kanae never did find out what happened to all the savings Shinobu had so painstakingly accumulated. To be more precise, she didn't know what exactly they had been spent on. Well, no matter. Shinobu didn't know either, for that matter. Probably, the car's owner had simply bought a new one, or hired a detective to find the person responsible for the situation, because that automobile had contained important photographs of his deceased wife, and losing them had ignited a righteous anger in his soul. Anything was possible.

Kanae was informed that Shinobu had been admitted to a hospital a couple of towns away, and she would have definitely come to her, had she not been on a mission at that very moment, also three towns away from Tokyo, but in a different direction, making it even more problematic and bothersome to visit her in the hospital. But Shinobu was sure that not even that would have stopped Kanae, if the girl hadn't ultimately felt guilty towards the entire organization for abandoning a mission, and if people's lives hadn't been at risk, lives that could have been lost had she interrupted it.

And Shinobu, after just a couple of days, was already recuperating at the Butterfly Mansion, accepting help from Kiyo and Naho, who literally wouldn't leave her side for hours, tacitly competing with each other. The girls had become friends, and that was a very good thing. If there were two unfriendly five-year-olds in their mansion, Shinobu would have been found at the bottom of a cliff somewhere.

On top of everything, Shinobu had to spend less time with the girls. It's not that she particularly disliked it, but the extra time for developing poisons and constant training wouldn't do anyone any harm.

Shinobu was rubbing her temples with great displeasure, sometimes moving to the back of her head, and finally massaging her forehead.

Pain.

She had never had headaches before. How she had taken her now unimaginable happiness for granted. Now, even though it happened rarely, it still caused, if not pain, then an annoying discomfort. It wasn't as if it was too difficult to annoy her... But right now, one person was persistently trying to do just that.

The evening sunset fell upon the long dining table, covering it in a yellow hue, like a veil.

"Sumi," Shinobu rubbed the bridge of her nose, very, very wearily, "What is seven minus four?"

Sumi frowned. She rocked back and forth on her chair a few times.

"Two?"

Shinobu had to clench her teeth. She wouldn't be so irritated if she hadn't had to tutor Teraguchi Kiyo this morning, who had managed it much faster. Solving problems with children... Shinobu's parents were very lucky with those two, and yet Aki even had the conscience to complain!

"Look," Shinobu got up from the table, walked over to the set of spoons, and took exactly seven of them.

She laid them out in front of the girl and sat back down.

"How many spoons are here?"

Sumi propped herself up on her elbows and started moving her finger over the spoons, counting them.

"Six?" Shinobu's eyes widened upon hearing this, "Oops, seven!"

"Not bad. Give me four spoons."

Sumi started counting them again and handed her four spoons.

"Good, how many spoons do you have left?"

Sumi wearily recounted them.

"There are three."

"Okay, you had 7, you gave me 4. What is seven minus four?"

Sumi fidgeted in her chair, looking off into the distance.

"2?"

For fuck's sake.

"Sumi," Shinobu took a deep breath, drawing in as much air as possible. "How many spoons are on the table?"

"1...2...3...4...5...6...7."

"7. Good. Give me four spoons."

"1...2...3...4," Sumi handed her the spoons.

"Good." Shinobu held the cutlery in front of Sumi's face. "You had 7 spoons, you gave me 4. How many spoons do you have?"

Sumi swayed from side to side.

"I have 4?"

Fuck.

"I have 4!" Shinobu shook her hand slightly, making the spoons clink. This made Sumi laugh, which allowed Shinobu to calm down a bit and smile too. "How many spoons are lying on the table?"

"1...2...3."

"How many spoons do I have?"

"4."

"What number do you get if you add those together?"

"1...2...3...4...5...6...7."

"And if you take 4 away from 7?"

Sumi didn't answer.

"There were 7, you gave me 4, there are 3 on the table. What is seven take away four?"

"Three?"

"YES! YES, YOU'RE BRILLIANT!" Shinobu jumped up from her chair and scooped Sumi up into her arms.

Kanae walked into the room with a cheerful smile on her face. Shinobu was smiling too, until she noticed a five-year-old girl following behind her sister.

"Listen, I just got back from a mission, and you see... Her parents died, so I decided to take her in. Do you want to tutor Naho in math?"

Shinobu screamed.

"NO-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O!"

Chapter Text

My tongue-tied Muse in manners holds her still,

While comments of your praise, richly compiled,

Reserve their character with golden quill

And precious phrase by all the Muses filed.

I think good thoughts, whilst other write good words,

And like unlettered clerk still cry 'Amen'

To every hymn that every spirit affords

In polished form of well-refind pen.

Hearing you praised, I say, ''Tis so, 'tis true',

And to the most of praise add something more;

But that is in my thought, whose love to you

(Though words come hindmost) holds his rank before.

Then others for the breath of words respect,

Me for my dumb thoughts, speaking in effect.

Sonnet 85 by William Shakespeare 

Christmas 1917.

The appearance of yet another girl was somewhat puzzling to almost everyone. Three children! That was more than enough. But actually, it was quite beneficial. Naho, Kiyo, and Sumi even looked like long-lost relatives from the outside, and they quickly found common ground; each of them had experienced terrible grief, which meant they could support each other. Shinobu didn't need to be with them all the time, and when one of the older girls was busy, the girls could keep having fun and playing with each other. The addition of one more child became a respite, not a torment.

This was very timely, considering the current holiday. December 25th is when Christmas is celebrated in Japan. An unofficial holiday, but one so beloved by all. It's commonly considered a day for lovers. You could walk along the city's old streets and encounter dozens of embracing couples on your way, who couldn't bear to be apart for even a second. On any other day, Shinobu would have wrinkled her nose at the sight, then muttered something angry under her breath for a long time as she walked on. But not today. Today, she could allow herself to smile at people for no reason, wish all Demon Slayers successful missions, and patients a speedy recovery. For the first time in three years, she managed to lie in bed idly for more than five minutes, assembling toys for five-year-olds. It was easy and simple, yet so absorbing. At first, she thought about how unfortunate it was that she didn't have things like that in her own childhood, and then she scolded herself for such indulgent thoughts. Shinobu could afford this luxury because she had finished all the tasks she could: cleaning, cooking, and laundering the clothes that were now hanging indoors to dry. But she couldn't start preparing the Christmas dishes or decorating the estate because Kanae hadn't returned from the store yet.

Lying around idle, wow, i-dle. Even thinking about it felt unusual, considering she didn't need to use such words referring to anyone, except for a few unruly patients. Her body felt unaccustomed to going numb like this from lying horizontally for so long while awake. Naho was playing around Shinobu's short legs, having adapted to their estate far too quickly, not that Shinobu was complaining.

Naho turned out to be the most down-to-earth of the three girls. Unlike Sumi, who was passionate about drawing and had even asked Shinobu for a book on architecture, and Kiyo, who had a rather boisterous personality, she was calm and friendly. She cried when she felt like crying, laughed when things were funny, and if she didn't like something, she said so directly. She wasn't just an open book, but more like an unfolded psychologist's note. Shinobu didn't have to guess whether Naho was dwelling on any of their conversations, something that could affect their future communication due to a single misinterpreted phrase. Yes, Shinobu often overthought such things. Yes, she had her reasons for it.

"Aoi said she would help with making the New Year's cake," Naho rolled onto her stomach, continuing to assemble the wooden figures into a whole... thingy.

Ah, Aoi. That girl was the daughter of one of the Demon Slayers, who often left her at the estate overnight to avoid taking her on dangerous missions. She had died two weeks ago. And Shinobu and Kanae told Aoi they would be happy if she stayed with them. But that wasn't the only reason. Aoi wanted to become a Demon Slayer more than anything in the world, to avenge her mother's death. For the first time, Shinobu understood the feelings of Himejima Gyomei so well. She had already lost more than one or two allies in battle and had a perfect understanding of the dangers of their work. Looking into the face of a nine-year-old child who had gone through the same things she had, fully understanding her motives and desires, but hesitating to agree. In the end, Aoi merely said that she would follow the path of a slayer regardless, and if she couldn't find a teacher, she would train on her own. And Kanae said, "Yes." Since then, Aoi had been living at their estate and tried to help whenever possible.

"We'll all work on the cake¹ together, that's the whole point of Christmas, right?" Shinobu continued lying on her back on the soft bed, holding her childhood book above her head, the one they had picked up recently when they visited their old house, where they had lived with their parents, which described the origins of Christmas in Japan in this way.

In Yamaguchi Prefectur², the first recorded public Christmas Christian service in Japan was held in 1552 by Portuguese Jesuit missionaries. Her parents used to say that unrecorded, unofficial celebrations absolutely took place even before that, especially after Saint Francis Xavier³, a Catholic saint and missionary and one of the founders of the Society of Jesus (the Jesuit Order), and the first Catholic missionary in Japan, set foot on Japanese soil. Between 1612 and 1854, Christianity was banned in Japan for political reasons, which led small enclaves of Kakure Kirishitan, or Hidden Christians, to secretly perform worship rites and pass on their traditions—including Christmas services—for 250 years, until the ban was lifted. The persecution did not extend to the Dutch, who continued to celebrate this day in the North of Nagasaki, subsequently even giving it the name "Dutch New Year." 63 years ago, under the influence of foreigners and the USA, Christmas became legalized again. Not long ago, traditions of baking cakes and making artificial Christmas trees appeared.

"I'm bored of just lying here," said Shinobu. It was a lie, but only partially.

"And what do you want to do?" Naho asked enthusiastically.

"You'll like it," Shinobu prompted her. "Call the others."

When it was not as bright as in the morning, but not as dark as in the evening, six girls, bundled in warm scarves, gloves, and hats, went outside. White snowflakes fell from the clouds, covering the entire ground with meter-high snowdrifts, blanketing it like a towel, while frozen water hung from the rooftops as icicles. They sledded down all the nearby snowy hills, had snowball fights, and constantly threw each other onto the ground, leaving everyone's faces bright red.

"Kanae!" Shinobu yelled once again when her sister grabbed her by the legs and tossed her high (for her) into a snowdrift.

"Don't mind me, just pretend I'm an evil demon and defend yourself!" Kanae smiled, picking up Kiyo.

"As if," Shinobu grumbled, "Agh!" Snow got down her collar, making her jump on the spot, which only made it worse, as the snow went right into her underpants.

The younger girls burst out laughing.

They were standing in one of the largest snowy fields, where for many meters in every direction there were no trees, except for a couple. Shinobu maliciously scooped up a handful of snow and threw it at Sumi's face, who easily dodged.

"Missed!"

Shinobu looked at Aoi in horror, sharing the sentiment.

"No, I mean, did you see that?"

"Don't even mention it," Aoi shook her head.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk," Shinobu said reproachfully, and another snowball hit her in the face. "Such sheer audacity!"

Sumi laughed.

"What can you expect from them," said Kanae.

"That's exactly it!"

"We can't just let them get away with it," Aoi finished.

"And not let them relax..."

"And—

"How many more of these are you going to come up with?" Kanae interrupted.

"As many as needed!" Shinobu and Aoi answered in unison.

In terms of age, Shinobu was closer to Aoi than to Kanae or the younger ones. A two-year difference wasn't significant, which made Shinobu feel so... normal? for the first time. Aoi matched her in temperament; sometimes it felt like she was looking at her own reflection in a mirror.

– We need to get back to the house to finish the cake in time, – Kanae said, just as Shinobu discreetly shoved a handful of snow down Sumi's collar.

– And finish the decorations, – Aoi added.

– And warm up, – Shinobu concluded, simultaneously throwing snow at Kiyo and Naho.

– Hey! – Kiyo protested indignantly.

– It wasn't me, it was Aoi!

– WHAT?! That's not true!

– It is!

– No!

– Yes!

– No!

– Yes!

– ENOUGH! – Kanae stopped the two of them, putting a hand on each of their shoulders and pulling them close. – The most stubborn ram on earth would envy your obstinacy; you absolutely must not start arguing.

– Kanae! – Shinobu and Aoi exclaimed in unison.

Shinobu shoved snow under Kanae's clothes.

– Shinobu!

– What? – she batted her eyes innocently.

Kanae started shaking the snow out before it melted, but it was too late, as her haori was already soaked.

– Himejima said he needed to stop by to discuss the upcoming mission with you, – said Aoi.

– Oh? – asked Kanae.

– That's good, we'll have a piece of cake for him, – Shinobu immediately brightened up, dumping snow on Aoi.

– I think he doesn't like sweets, – Kanae replied.

– He likes being difficult, – Shinobu stated confidently. – And sweets.

– You're the one who likes being difficult, – Kanae smiled.

– Not true!

– True, – Sumi replied lazily.

– Just admit you like it, – said Shinobu.

No less than six snow projectiles hit her in the face.

***

– Look at this beauty, – Shinobu wiped cream from her face and put her hands on her hips with satisfaction, pleased with the resulting masterpiece.

All the girls lined up behind her, examining the traditional Japanese Christmas cake, consisting of white sponge cake covered with cream and decorated with strawberries. Usually, the cake is bought by the head of the family on the evening of December 25th, or by his wife as a last resort, but they decided to make it themselves, as it's much tastier that way. Now rested and warmed up, the girls had spent over an hour in the kitchen.

In Europe, cannons were thundering, but here, in a quiet corner of Takinogawa Village¹, it was peaceful. It was four in the afternoon, but it was already quite dark, as usual in the middle of winter. For Shinobu, winter had always been a time for thinking. About life, about problems, about losses. But now, sitting among these girls and breathing in the scent of not just medicinal herbs but also pine needles and vanilla, she only wanted to bask in the holiday fervor that arises in everyone on this day. A family holiday, a family day.

– I think it's perfect, – Kanae said joyfully.

– It is perfect, – Aoi confirmed.

– Just like the whole holiday, – Shinobu looked over all the decorations they had made.

Garlands on the walls, paper cards on the tables, dishes with Santa Claus on them. It was a bit childish, but it felt so good and pleasant. Shinobu also liked the very process of creating it all. When they all labored together over snowflakes from white sheets and couldn't cut them out well – that's what you remember for a lifetime.

After they had spent several hours talking and exchanging jokes, Kiyo, Naho, and Sumi went off to bed. They, of course, protested for a long time: "But we're not tired," "I'm perfectly fine!", "I don't want to sleep at all!" A whole day spent outdoors in the cold weather and the snowball fights had taken their toll on their appearance, and Shinobu and Kanae had to carry the girls to their rooms in their arms. Aoi chose to go to bed early on her own and left them without any persuasion.

Shinobu went up to her favorite attic, changed into the pajamas she had received on Boxing Day because she had outgrown her old ones, and jumped into bed. The cold frost outside, howling at the window and scattering cold, sparkling snowflakes; the bright, burning stars and the full moon illuminated her room no worse than the sun, but without the blinding light; and Shinobu, shielded from it all by her warm bed, which warmed her even on such a cold day. For the first time in many years, her mood was so relaxed and peaceful.

But she didn't feel like sleeping. Energy still coursed through her body, energy she felt would never end. Getting up wasn't an option; Kanae would surely send her right back, unwilling to hear any excuses. She needed something…

Someone knocked on the door. Thanking all the gods she didn't believe in, Shinobu ran to open it. Strangely enough, it was Himejima. Stranger still – Tomioka Giyuu was standing behind him, holding a bloodied arm.

– I met Tomioka on my way to you and thought the best solution was to bring him for an examination, to treat the wound and prevent any possible infection, – Gyomei said in his low voice.

– My, my, getting injured right on Christmas night, – Shinobu shook her head skeptically. – Gyomei, come in.

Himejima was surprised by her words and immediately started to refuse, but she wasn't going to listen.

– I didn't wa-

– I don't want to hear it. You wanted to discuss a few things with Kanae yourself, right? Don't worry, I know how much you dislike children, so they're all in bed.

– Not all of them, – he remarked sarcastically, and Shinobu's mouth dropped open in dramatic surprise.

– Ah, – she noticed Giyuu again. – You need patching up.

He remained silent once more.

– You're as talkative as ever.

Shinobu turned on the dim lamp in the very dark treatment room. The light was weak, forcing them to sit as close to it as possible. As she wound bandages around his arm and swabbed it with hydrogen peroxide, Shinobu tried to draw him into conversation.

– Kiyo kept trying to pelt me with snowballs afterward, – Shinobu smiled at the memory. – So I put her on a sled and took her to the nearest slope.

Tomioka continued to look at his arm.

– You know, you've become even more withdrawn than you were, – she said bluntly. – And gloomy, and depressive. You stay silent when spoken to, don't answer when asked. It's not very becoming.

He raised his blue eyes to her.

– I'm not withdrawn.

Shinobu clicked her tongue, showing all her displeasure.

– I'm glad that's the only part that bothered you.

Tomioka lowered his eyes again, looking more like a beaten puppy.

– It's not.

– Then what else?

He remained silent.

– See? – Shinobu cut the ends of the bandage and tied a firm knot so it wouldn't come undone in the middle of a mission.

The silence stretched, becoming so heavy you could almost touch it. Tomioka sat nervously on his chair, constantly looking from his arm to his knees. Shinobu put all the used materials back in their places, returning the treatment room to its usual perfect state. Tomioka decided to break the silence with an unexpected admission.

– I just don't want to be a burden, – that was all he said.

– A burden? – Shinobu repeated.

– Yes.

– I meant: what are you talking about? Why do you think you're being a burden when people want to talk to you?

Giyuu winced painfully as he moved his fingers, checking his hand. Shinobu looked at him as if for the first time. He never told anything about himself.

– I'm not the kind of person people should want to talk to, – Giyuu turned away.

Shinobu stood in the middle of the room, pondering what to even do with this information.

– You shouldn't think that, – she finally said.

– I know myself.

– You should know others, not yourself.

Now he was confused.

– Others?

– Others know better than you why they want to interact with you, – Shinobu looked at the bridge of his nose. She was too tired today. Giyuu, apparently, was no longer planning on using his vocal apparatus. – We have a delicious cake. I want to give you some.

***

– I can't believe you blew up a store, – Gyomei looked genuinely shocked.

– Well, it wasn't real explosives, – she shrugged. – Just paint with a nasty smell.

– Paint always smells nasty, – said Kanae.

Giyuu sat quietly at the table, not saying a word. Gyomei was sprawled out, taking up one whole side, which meant Shinobu was sitting next to Tomioka, but it didn't help much, since he was still an idiot.

– It's nothing compared to a sunken car, – Shinobu didn't quite know why she said it.

Kanae and Himejima simultaneously spat their tea onto the table.

– WHAT?!

– Yeah, I was in the hospital then, and a rumor slipped out that the killer of some local residents – who were actually killed by a demon – was a girl with a katana. I had to run from them, and, well, that's how it happened.

Giyuu threw a thoughtful glance at her once but immediately looked away. She decided not to involve him in the story, to avoid attracting the attention he so dislikes.

– That's insane, Shinobu, why does this always happen to you?! – Kanae shook her head in horror.

– I don't know, I guess it just happens that way.

– "It just happened" is your favorite phrase.

– No, my favorite phrase is: 'Elementary, my dear Watson.'

– You've never said that before, – Kanae said skeptically.

– I never said I'd ever said it. I said it's my favorite phrase.

– The joke falls flat if no one understands what you said, – replied Gyomei, who was clearly tired of Sherlock.

– Himejima, mark my words, next year you're getting coal for Christmas.