Chapter Text
Kocho Shinobu leaned down to her microscope, the metal new and cool to the touch. Her ocular bone rested evenly on the tip of the scope, eye focused on a petri dish placed under the many lenses structured above it. She watched with scientific fascination as a demonic skin cell shriveled and collapsed next to a wisteria particle, before promptly switching the dishes to examine the reaction of a genetically altered wisteria cell, tallying both reactions in a notebook resting beside her.
On the window to the far side of the room, the wooden shutters were pinned back and admitting. A black silhouette glided towards the opening, and a Kasugai crow with sleek feathers settled, twisting its dexterous talons to perch on the ledge.
Shinobu raised her head, turning in her chair to face the avian. “En.” She greeted, smiling benignly, “Welcome home. What are my orders this evening?”
The bird cawed, a piercing sound before beginning in a quieter tone. “Demon to the west, two Kinoto’s dead, sending Kocho to kill demon.”
“I see,” Shinobu took a moment to wish her fallen juniors a peaceful afterlife, “And the location?”
The crow ruffled and resettled his flight feathers, “Hokkaido.”
The slayer considered this, gathering her thoughts. Hokkaido was a bustling city to the west, not an unsurprising haunt for a demon, and would be quite a long walk from her estate. The Insect Hashira nodded, “Please inform my master that I will leave in the morrow.”
“Kocho going.”
Shinobu smiled at her dutiful companion, “Thank you, En.”
The bird gracefully pitched itself off the windowsill and rushed upwards into a wind current, getting smaller in Shinobu’s view as he rose above the wisteria grove surrounding her home. Looking back at her notes, Shinobu tidied her workspace and stored the demon samples tightly, creating a mental list of necessary preparations for her departure.
She would need to rise early in the morning and trust her girls to manage the clinic for the next week or so, trekking at a pace of 20 miles a day to arrive in a timely fashion. A small traveling kit would be her aid, with her stinger sword at her hip, until En found her along the journey. Shinobu tucked her lab tools away and straightened any creases in her clothing; she would continue with her experimentation another day.
It was late eventide as Shinobu exited her laboratory and made her rounds in the hospital, checking critical patients and adjusting medication dosages as she observed various symptoms and marked pain levels. It would be to everyone's benefit if she ensured everything was in its correct order before she left. Aoi found her much later by a Mizunoto’s bedside, checking the young boy’s stitches.
The teenage slayer was wringing her hands against her uniform apron. The black of her demon slayer corps' sleeves stark against the sterile white. Aoi fixed Shinobu with stubborn eyes, “Miss Kocho, everyone here is stable and I can make note of any changes, please go have dinner.”
Shinobu smiled knowingly, “Thank you Aoi, I’m just finishing up and will leave in a moment.”
Aoi stared skeptically and lingered in the room until Shinobu had finished with the sleeping patient, arms folded. Shinobu chuckled as she parted from the girl, admiring her persistence. “I will be away on a mission in Hokkaido, please watch the estate while I am gone.”
Aoi bowed, “Yes miss Kocho.”
Shinobu paused, taking a moment to admire her student. Aoi had come a long way from the once trembling, nervous girl she had been after her final selection. She had grown to feel comfortable in herself, and Shinobu knew such confidence would only increase with steady guidance and time.
Shinobu was delighted to discover as she walked to the dining hall that dinner this evening was Udon, a bit cold but that was the Hashira’s fault. The noodles went down smoothly and Shinobu was pleased to find that she had an appetite tonight. It had been a while since the last wisteria injection she recalled, the most likely reason for her awakened hunger. That would have to wait until she returned from slaying the demon as well.
Carrying her used dishes to the wash basin in the kitchen, Shinobu rolled up her sleeves and gently scrubbed any remaining rice from the bowls interior. Finding herself with a rare moment of peace, Shinobu hummed, a happy tune to reflect her decent mood. She had not had any breakthroughs in her research or discovered any miracle cures, but Shinobu felt, bizarrely, that today had been a good day.
“Kanae, if today is a good day than surely tomorrow will be as well?”
The silence held no answer for her as Shinobu wiped a clean linen across the surface of her chop sticks, quietude never spoke no matter how many questions Shinobu asked.
“I suppose we shall see.”
-
The forest was novel, the tree leaves in full force, radiant in the dawn. The sun was rising steadily behind Shinobu, vibrant reds, yellows and oranges dashing across the sky in a fiery chariot. She took a moment to appreciate the sights, sounds, and smells, smiling as a woodland rabbit darted in front of her path. Shinobu preferred things soaked in sunlight, to be in the sun was to be safe, to be warm.
Branches swayed in a gentle breeze, and Shinobu rested a relaxed palm on the hilt of her sword, reassured by daylight and the simple sounds around her. When the earth was in motion, twigs snapping and grass rustling, there was no danger.
Above her, sparrows scattered, each flapping in different directions in their rush to flee. Used to the reactions, Shinobu raised her forearm and spoke aloud, “En!” Naturally, the pretty bird revealed itself from the canopy, swooping down to land on her limb.
“Kocho.”
Shinobu raised her opposing arm to run deft fingers through the crows' tail feathers, scratching him on occasion around the crown of his skull. Cooing the bird settled on her shoulder and Shinobu reached into her knapsack to pull out a handful of peanuts. En shifted excitedly on his perch as she began the process of cracking the shells. “Here you are.” She offered him an exposed nut and placed one in her own mouth. It was funny how both of them enjoyed peanuts equally.
“How is the master?” Shinobu questioned, finished munching on her protein.
En ducked his beak, “Losing sight, less mobile, curse spreading.”
The Insect Hashira paused, “Yes, that I must expect, but tell me, how is his mind?”
En did not hesitate, “Tranquil, reassuring, patient. Amane too.”
“Good,” Shinobu smiled genuinely, “As long as his heart is still strong.” Shinobu knew intimately that the corps would be nothing without Oyakata. She considered her fellow male Hashira and scoffed at the thought of them running the show.
En finished the remainder of her fisted peanuts and flew off to start his scouting, Shinobu packed the rest of the treats away and continued to walk until the sun was high in the sky. Around lunch time, Shinobu picked up a run. She had been traveling already for two days, another 42 miles remaining to Hokkaido, and she increased her pace to keep a curt schedule.
Continuing down a well-trodden path, Shinobu found herself stopping in a small village. Huts of timber and bamboo stalks were littered along flooded fields, a rice farming community. The monsoon season had been generous, Shinobu recalled; the harvest should be equally so.
Shinobu passed many villagers, each dressed in worn yukatas or fraying trousers, with large straw hats cast over the men’s heads. A woman in what appeared to be her mid-twenties smiled at Shinobu but gazed openly at her outfit. Shinobu simply smiled back and confidently approached her, used to uncertain eyes.
“Hello,” The Hashira called out, “Could I perhaps purchase some rice balls from you? I have been traveling for a few days now and would appreciate the homely snack.”
The women paused, reaching a hand to her back to support the baby resting in a sling against her shoulder blades before responding somewhat warily, “Ah, yes, I do have some miss.” The woman fidgeted with her red obi, “Please come this way, and I will show you to my home.” The woman slowly turned around to guide Shinobu, watching her from the corners of her eyes.
“Thank you!”
They walked a few fields over to a small domain; the hut slouching lightly to the left, roof seeping inwards. Shinobu imaged growing up in such rural poverty and found she could not picture it. Approaching the home, a child darted out from the woven fold serving as a door, sneaking around Shinobu like a squirrel, his feet bare.
“Hisou! Watch where you're going, you’ll knock the poor miss over.” The woman scowled at her son, light eyebrows pinching downwards before making a shooing motion at the boy. She quickly turned to Shinobu, “I’m sorry, he’s a bit dim that child.”
“It’s no trouble, he’s just a boy.” Shinobu smiled to placate the mother and watched as her shoulders eased, losing their tense qualities.
The woman returned the smile tentatively, “Please wait here and I’ll wrap some rice balls.” Shinobu nodded and watched as the mother disappeared behind the flap, the babe wrapped around her back sleeping deeply.
Shinobu turned idly, patiently standing on the balls of her feet and gazed at the men laboring in the fields, their backs folded over in an arch as they tended to the waterlogged plants. The doctor in Shinobu frowned at the way their lumbar spine curled, sure to create disk displacement and premature arthritis, but there was nothing she could do.
Glancing up, the slayer eyed the sun’s position in the sky and knew she could not linger long here.
“Here you are miss, thank you for waiting.” The woman in the red kimono returned from inside her hut, back free from the infant. She traded the seaweed rolled balls for a few coins Shinobu switched out of her traveling sack, giving the woman extra.
Naturally, the young mother raised her brows at the money. “This is too much, I cannot take this from you.”
Shinobu was already turning away, again smiling, “It is no trouble! Perhaps you can fix up some shoes for your lovely son.” She voiced the suggestion in honest generosity, lacking the condescension others might infer. The woman beamed, bowing to the Insect Hashira. “Thank you miss! I will do so.”
Shinobu waved goodbye to her and carried on her march towards Hokkaido. Demons did not wait to kill after all, so Shinobu could not either.
-
It was by far her first time in Hokkaido, and Shinobu was not disappointed in the least when the city came to proceeding its reputation. It was absolutely massive; snickets and alleys darted and crossed all over, with tall, freestanding high rises leaning intimately against each other. Kerosene lamps exfoliated the neighborhoods and illuminated the aged bricks, each mashed together with a determined cement.
Below her all sorts of persons were moving, mothers clutching children, young girls giggling with their friends, a couple out on a date, businessmen pacing the walkways with brief cases softened through time. Shinobu could scarcely imagine the population size here. Finding the demon would prove quite a challenge in an establishment this dense, goodness.
Perhaps most brilliant of all were the market stalls. Rows and rows and rows of them, as far as the eye could see. Evening had drawn all the salespeople out, like roaches they wiggled in and out of crowds, fitting through places they really ought not be able to. Shinobu could see jangling trinkets, wind chimes, festival masks, decorative fabrics, hair clips, pins, makeup, jewelry, and to an even greater degree food, heaps of food. Fried food, baked food, caramelized food, anything and everything one could possibly think of desiring. It was all there lined up in stations.
Shinobu inched closer over the lip of the building, enraptured with the hustle and bustle of it all. She was relieved that she had taken to the roofs and decided to scope the situation out from a bird’s eye view instead of wandering the streets. Her slayers' uniform was still laying against her skin, sword cinched to her belt, and that alone was reason enough to avoid the public eye.
The sun had set as well, the demon probably already lurking, but Shinobu was exhausted. She had taken few stops along her journey and felt ready to pass out on any dingy pillow available. En could find her at an inn in the morning and update her before she began her search.
Decided, Shinobu backtracked to a bed and breakfast she had seen earlier in the day. Luckily, she had brought a spare kimono with her from the Butterfly Estate and would be able to change and blend in easily when she braved the crowds. Steps soundless, Shinobu dropped down from a rooftop into an empty side street next to the small hotel, walking up to the double doors keenly. The innkeeper at the front desk was leaning her chin on her right hand, a steaming cup of tea beside her.
Shinobu smiled, “Good evening, room for one?”
The lady fixed her chestnut eyes on the Hashira, looking her up and down slowly and carefully. Blatantly, she settled on Shinobu’s face, thoroughly examining her features. “You're in luck miss, we have one left.”
Shinobu’s smile softened into something more sincere, “Wonderful, thank you.”
The woman shifted to pull a paper envelope out of a cabinet drawer and reached a lone hand out to grasp a pen and scribbled something loosely down on the parchment. She cast a quick glance Shinobu’s way, before scratching something else on the paper.
“How many nights?”
“Just one please.”
The Insect Hashira reached into her travel kit and pulled out a small purse, eager to hurry this along. Counting the currency, Shinobu held it out to the woman.
The innkeeper exchanged Shinobu’s extended due for a miniature silver key, voice neutral, “This is our only copy, so see to it that you don’t lose it.”
Shinobu nodded cheerfully, “Of course, I will return it to you safely!”
She received only an impassive look for her efforts, “Your room is number twelve on the second floor. We do offer breakfast as well; it starts at six.”
Shinobu knew from experience that she would entirely sleep through breakfast, but she beamed anyway, “That is very helpful, thank you.”
The woman gave her once last look before responding agreeably, “Good night miss.”
Shinobu offered her well wishes in return before swiftly making her way up the inn stairs to the second floor, wooden boards creaking slightly in places. Entering the hallway at the top of the stairwell, Shinobu peered at the various numbers carved above the doorways, treading quietly behind the occupied rooms to find her own. Room number twelve was identical to its siblings and Shinobu slipped inside its holding without another thought.
Locking the door behind her, Shinobu observed the room. It was quaint and a little worn, with a knackered futon and overly long curtains hanging from the window. Western curtains, she noticed. Settling her meager belongings onto a wayward chair, Shinobu pulled her haori off her shoulders and hung it on a rack near the entryway, then allowed her hair to slip out of its clasp, falling around her in a midnight cascade.
Stepping into the washroom, the Hashira unbuttoned her uniform and changed into a white yukata folded professionally on the counter. It was shapeless and swallowed her frame whole, hanging off her shoulder, but it would do. Padding back to the main room, Shinobu collapsed on the futon and pulled the covers up to her chin. The demon could wait another day, Shinobu was in no mind to go kill it and doubted she could do it without hurting herself anyway. She sighed and prayed to whatever idols people valued modernly that no civilians would die while she rested. Shinobu closed her eyes.
Mercifully, sleep overtook her.
-
“Are you married?”
Shinobu simply started at the elder woman, eyes wide.
“I beg your pardon?”
The old lady just shrugged, “Just wondering if female slayers are still cantankerous, celibate witches.”
Shinobu just stood there, gawking.
“Grandma! Enough pestering!” Furiously storming through the townhouse entrance was Kiyoshi, whom Shinobu had met only a few moments ago. “This kind woman is trying to look out for us, why are you bothering her with such silly questions?”
“It’s not silly,” The grandmother kicked a pebble with her socked shoe, “I’m right too, why can’t people be humble enough to let others be right for even a moment?”
Kiyoshi simply ignored her, “I apologize miss Kocho, please pardon my grandma, she is old and her mind is not as sound as it once was.” She bowed low to Shinobu.
“Oi! My brain works spectacularly, thank you.” The surly old woman kicked another stone much more aggressively.
Kiyoshi didn’t spare her a single breath, “Now miss, you were asking about any unusual happenings in the area?”
Shinobu felt the loose strand of her logic slam back into place, an effective wake up call. Her back straightened and her chin lifted as she looked the young girl in the eyes and smiled beatifically, “Yes, thank you. Has anyone been reported missing or have there been any sightings of abnormal behavior in your district?”
Kiyoshi took a moment to ponder the inquiry, brows furrowed as she opened her mouth, only to be cut off.
“Just say demon.” Came an unwavering voice, no longer petulantly sour. “That's what you're looking for after all, slayer, just say it as it is.”
Shinobu paused and observed the grandmother to her right, taking stock of her again in a new light. The old woman was sharp as a tack and her eyes were intelligent and even a touch devious, her face an expression of light amusement.
“Demon?” Kiyoshi questioned, wary.
Trying a new tactic, Shinobu allowed her mischievous side to show and winked at the elder lady. “Whatever title you wish to bestow upon unsavory sorts is of no concern to me.”
The grandmother’s eyes glowed, mirth dancing through her irises like wildfire, “Oh, miss Hashira, I believe it is. As a former Wisteria House owner, I dare say you made it your concern long ago.”
Kiyoshi’s head was swiveling back and forth, black hair twisting, as she watched the exchange between her grandma and Shinobu, utterly perplexed.
Shinobu lifted her index finger to her lips, “Careful, we mustn’t startle innocent ears.”
The old woman was laughing now, a bellow that resounded in the air and Shinobu found herself earnestly smiling.
“Indeed. Well, I’m afraid we’ve no news for you but I’ve heard rumors that the Yuuton district is a little less fortunate.”
Shinobu filed the information away, habit taking over her body as she nodded. “I see, thank you for informing me. I must be going then; I would hate to miss anything.”
“I’m sure you would, thank you Kocho, do get married or find someone to keep you company before you die, it would ease my harrowed soul.”
Shinobu huffed softly, charmed. “My lack of a relationship has more to do with my personality and less to do with my occupation, but I’ll take your words under consideration.”
The grandmother chuckled good naturedly, “There is someone for everyone dear girl.”
Shinobu suddenly felt achingly young in front of this woman, who was surely in her 80’s but was staring at Shinobu like she could read her soul aloud. Shaking herself internally, Shinobu turned to Kiyoshi, who was still standing there looking put off, and bowed. “Thank you for your time, miss Kiyoshi. Have a lovely evening.”
Kiyoshi blinked, “You as well miss Kocho.”
The familial pair stood and watched as Shinobu glided off the steps to their home, receiving the full view of her butterfly clip. She would not allow herself to tarry in her duty, Shinobu told herself, but she was rather intrigued. That was certainly not the strangest interaction with a citizen she had ever undertaken, but it was rather bewildering.
There is someone for everyone.
Shinobu mulled the thought over but was left befuddled.
Who on earth could be meant for Kocho Shinobu?
-
Tomioka Giyuu watched his reflection with an air of apathy but was internally annoyed. This particular demon had a Blood Art that was nothing short of a nuisance. Face unmoved, Giyuu raised his katana and filled his lungs to the fullest, swinging with the poise and grace befitting any water breathing master, and slashed the mirror clean in half. It was, finally, the correct one. The glass maze he had been trapped in fell around him, smoldering to ashes as the demon convulsed on the ground in fury and began to disintegrate; its life force apparently tied to the mirrors.
It shouted profanities at Giyuu, spitting blood at him, but the Hashira was steadfast and simply watched it perish with his expression blank. The demon was nothing but scattered debris when Giyuu eased his muscles a fraction, always on guard but recognizing that his job was complete, at least for the night. Suddenly, the forest was alive, birds that had scattered, and insects that had quieted re-awakened; the enemy had fallen, and the world could move on as it always did.
A pile of clothes lay mixed on the earthen floor, the demon’s yes, but it was quite expensive cloth. The demon had been female, and Giyuu suspected likely a seamstress or a prostitute. She had been obsessed with pointing out any unconventional features in Giyuu’s body, many times distorting him in her looking glass, and enforcing insecurities onto him that did not belong, mocking his crops’ uniform and spitting cruel words at him.
None of which remained in Giyuu’s mind but rather went in one ear and out the other. As many words did, truly. Giyuu couldn’t find it in himself to be sympathetic to the former human the demon had been, probably constantly picking at her appearance and criticizing others to gain social status, desperate to be valued. What a headache.
Giyuu sheathed his sword and glanced up towards the sky. The sun would rise soon, blinding in its glory, and Giyuu could bask in its rays for another day. Deciding to ignore the pile of textiles and leave them to wild animals, Giyuu picked up a rhythmic walk, caressing the bark of a tree before re-discovering the trail he was on until he was rudely interrupted, easily slipping back into the mindless tempo of a forested hike.
He would have to wait for Kanzaburo to give him his next mission instructions, the old crow was weather beaten and often needed to stop for breaks. Kanzaburo should be nearing the valley, Giyuu estimated, catching his breath. Giyuu would continue to patrol his assigned region until the winged fellow found him, slaying any demons he came across.
Well, unless they were Kamado Nezuko.
Giyuu considered the situation again, mulling it over as he often did. It was unbelievable, he wouldn’t deny it, that a demon could survive without consuming any human flesh. It didn't make it less real, however, and Giyuu dreaded the day the corps would discover the existence of the Kamado siblings; inevitable, and sure to give him a migraine.
Giyuu pondered until he arrived at the base of a clearing, a gentle stream meandering its way through the meadow, and decided that this was as good a place as any to settle down for a rest. The grass was tall, swaying lightly and bending their lush tips towards and away from Giyuu as he sat against the trunk of an ancient oak.
As he leaned back, Giyuu reached a hand to his brainstem to pull on the tie ensnaring his hair, loosening the strands and allowing them to fall forward and frame his face. It had been many years since Giyuu last cut it, and he imagined chopping it all off with his sword but decided against it. If his locks were kept under wraps when it mattered, Giyuu saw no harm in letting them stay. It was rather tangle free, after all.
Scratching at his scalp thoughtlessly, Giyuu utilized his free hand to snatch his pack from off the ground and feather out a flat portion of steel. Sliding his katana out from its protective depths, Giyuu rearranged hismelf to be sitting upright, weapon positioned for sharpening. A long but low screech echoed around him, familiar and comforting, as Giyuu raised the steel to the uppermost part of his weapon, and let it connect.
The metal sang in a way, a sound of necessary pain, of the way a slayer would breathe when being trained and bettered by adequate forces, winded. It was the sound of honing. As Giyuu struck the stone again to his blade, he lingered over the image of himself instructing another, a pupil, correcting their posture and straightening their sword, a hand to the diaphragm even, to instill Total Concentration Breathing.
Perhaps if the eldest Kamado had any schooling, Giyuu would have kept the boy for himself instead of sending him to his former master. But alas, Giyuu knew he would be unsuited to train Tanjiro; he could barely care for himself, let alone a grieving, wounded child.
Who among the Hashira had Tsugoku’s? Giyuu queried to himself, his mind traveling down another avenue of curiosity. Sanemi and Obani certainly not. Possibly Himejima, the man absolutely had the skill and patience for it. Giyuu vaguely recalled hearing that Rengoku had taken a Tsugoku but that could have been a while ago for all he knew. Uzui was a negative as well, far too busy with his boundless wives to glance in anyone else’s direction, even outside matters regarding pleasure.
That left Kocho. Giyuu considered her for a small moment, his short but vicious comrade. She was kept very busy at her estate, the corps medical facilities, Giyuu knew, and had her own duties in the corps but Giyuu found that he could see her with a student quite easily, either in medicine or demon slaying, she had the kindness, softness and steadiness to do so.
Giyuu hoped she did have a Tsugoku, he decided; anyone would surely benefit under her tutelage.
The Hashira gazed down at his sword and finished giving it a final few sweeps with the sharpening stone, satisfied only when it glimmered below him. The craftsmanship was excellent, superb in its simple but effective design as he slid it into its encasement once again, harmonious.
Re-positioning his supplies, Giyuu laid out on the cushion of vegetation springing up from the spongey soil, the sun’s first scattered rays reaching him with a fervor. He closed his eyes for a moment that became many, recognizing that he was safe from any demons and likely humans too, this far out in the middle of nowhere, nestled in mother nature's breast. At noon he would rise again and busy himself with travel but for now he would rest in peace.
Kindly, his dreams were empty.
-
Kanzaburo found Giyuu many miles away from his original starting point, treading along the undergrowth of a walnut grove. His messenger bird’s ribcage was extending farther than normal as the crow took in laborious gasps, if a crow could gasp that was. Giyuu simply picked him clean out of the air and held the avian close, giving him a chance to inhale some oxygen.
“Breathe, Kanzaburo.” Giyuu muttered, his pace never faltering.
The crow merely wheezed. Giyuu would chide the bird that he didn't need to work himself so hard but knew the pleas would fall on deaf ears. Besides, haste was the best way to go in the Demon Slayer Corps. Someone’s life was always on the line after all.
When Kanzaburo was recovered, not an overheated mess in Giyuu’s palms, heartrate less overburdened and eyes no longer glassy, Giyuu spoke up.
“How are you, Kanzaburo?”
The crow perked, pivoting to face his friend. “Tired! Long flight from master! Tomioka well?”
Giyuu nodded.
Kanzaburo beamed, a crow’s version of it anyway. “Good! Glad Tomioka well! Master is asking Tomioka head to Hokkaido, demon troublesome.”
“Hokkaido?” Giyuu called, “That is not far from here.”
The bird shuffled his wings, resettling them as he pleased, “Yes! 15 miles west, insect there.”
Giyuu paused, face never changing from its lone state. “Kocho? Has she called for backup?”
Kanzaburo flitted around Giyuu’s wrist, “Precaution, Tomioka near Hokkaido.”
“Ah.” Giyuu said, understanding, and that was all.
Kanzaburo flew upwards to rest on Giyuu’s shoulder and the Hashira reached for his travel bag to pull out a pouch of seeds, Kanzaburo fluffed his tail excitedly, sensing his treat time was here. Giyuu tipped the mouth of the pouch downwards to allow gravity to pull the seeds down, pooling them in a small mound. There were many kinds, all various shapes and sizes and Kanzaburo plucked the ones he liked least first and saved the ones he preferred best for last.
Giyuu reflected on what he knew of Hokkaido. He had been there once on a mission when he was first called as a Hashira, the situation resounding well but had been initially tricky. The city was sprawling length wise and sky wise, with aggressive districts filled with people of all walks of life, each attempting to carve their own places out of the masses. Giyuu couldn’t remember the face of the demon he had fought, but he could vividly picture a restaurant he had visited, their Salmon Daikon one of the best he had ever had. Perhaps he would eat there again; the thought alone made his mouth water.
“Hokkaido is a vast place, which district is Kocho in?” Giyuu questioned, recalling the large amounts of running around he had done, which had caused him to be so famished afterwords that he had stumbled into the shop.
Kanzaburo swallowed another seed, “Not sure! Master not know.”
Giyuu withered a little on the inside; it could take days to find Kocho if he didn’t know where to look. Oh well.
The Water Hashira remained silent as he continued his movement forward, the early summer daylight a balm to his body. If he kept up a resolute pace, he could make it to Hokkaido by evening. Running would make it go faster, but Giyuu was confident Kocho had everything handled and he needn’t be in a hurry. Besides, he ought to mentally prepare himself for the level of poking and prodding she would do.
Kanzaburo finished his snack, and Giyuu shook out the cracking shells of seeds the crow had pecked into, wiping his palm idly on his pants. As Kanzaburo nestled himself into the side of Giyuu’s neck, the Hashira found himself grateful that he didn't have to rush; his Kasugai friend needed some rest after all.
Peering out into his surroundings, Giyuu allowed the scenery to center him and focused on his breathing, Kanzaburo falling into deep sleep. Expanding his chest, Giyuu inhaled, opening even the lowest chambers of his lungs and filling them entirely with blessed air. Exhaling, Giyuu allowed his shoulders to drop, clavicle sinking. He repeated the exercise consciously before permitting his mind to wander, his central nervous system taking over the critical job of keeping Giyuu breathing.
When the sun was at its tallest point in the sky, Giyuu began to see his first signs of civilization. He had found a lazy deer trial and followed it until he came across farmland, endless terraces parallel and lining up neatly in the hillsides. It was unoccupied, but Giyuu spotted a central path that he assumed would lead him towards a road. All large cities had rings of cultivated land around them, immediate resources being required to feed such an extensive population.
Giyuu carefully avioded stepping into any fertilized greens, not wishing to disturb the growth, and landed silently onto the compacted dirt lane. He gently reached a hand up to scratch along Kanzaburo’s wing, waking the bird kindly.
“Kanzaburo.”
The crow blinked blearily, his beak rising from where it had been tucked into his shoulder.
Giyuu called to him again, “Kanzaburo. I need you to wake up and scout ahead for Kocho.”
The avian shook himself, looking more awake than he had been a few seconds ago. He chirped at Giyuu, a high happy sound, as if to say good morning.
“Okay! Kanzaburo going.”
Giyuu watched the bird take flight with a mere rustle of his wings. Grateful for his companions' willingness, he waved to the animal as it vanished. He then redirected his focus to the journey ahead of him. The narrow lane was obviously used to carts if the grass shoots in its middle were anything to go by. Giyuu was headed in the right direction.
Sure enough, he was soon passing small countryside homes; wood chopped in tight stacks and chimney's standing proudly erect above their rooftops. Laundry wires supported sheets and stray yukata’s, drying them in the radiant air. Farmers and their families were hard at work as Giyuu passed by, hardly anyone noticing him. A teenage girl kneeled in front of a little boy, his knee scraped and busted, and the elder sister began stroking his cheek tenderly. Giyuu took to the tree line just as she wiped the young boy's tears away, pushing the thoughts of his own beloved family down, shoving them into a lockable box.
Switching from tree to tree, Giyuu tried to recall the entrances to Hoakkaido and found he could not, the memory blurred by time and dust. Balancing over sturdy limbs, Giyuu considered his options, and when he would have to select one. He glanced ahead and discovered that the time was now; the tree line disappearing.
Not even sweating, Giyuu leaped off a large branch to step onto the lane again. Giyuu was wearing his Corp’s attire, sword swinging with his hip’s movement, and he braced himself for his least favorite part of demon slaying, maneuvering suspicious humans. Almost immediately, a man in a cheaply stitched hakama eyed Giyuu with clear disdain as he strode past him, mouth twisting. Giyuu ignored him and the many others who gazed at him with confusion or contempt. He had realized long ago that while many people rejected the idea of demons and slayers, they still were superstitious at heart and dodged him like one might a black cat.
As Giyuu walked on the scenery changed, the backdrop morphing into a horizon of tall, free-standing structures in the distance. The meager houses of the agricultural region shifted to be more suburban. Streets and houses arranged geometrically, an outer barrier of commuters who escaped outside of the city bounds but travelled into the heart of Hokkaido for work. Giyuu paused to imagine such a life for himself and found he could not picture it.
“Hey Mr. Mismatched! Need a ride?” A boisterous voice called.
Giyuu turned, curious but unflinching as he observed the one who called out to him.
A teenager in a cumulonimbus colored haori was waving at the Hashira zealously, arm whipping back and forth in the air. “Yo! I got a cart ride with your name on it sir!” The boy gestured to his mule cart, proudly grinning from ear to ear. Giyuu watched him for another moment before continuing to walk, uninterested.
The teenagers’ smile dropped and he rushed up to Giyuu’s side, determined. “It's a long walk into Hokkaido, why not take a seat and I’ll take you straight into the heart of the city myself?”
“No thank you.” Giyuu’s voice was quiet but resolved.
The boy was undeterred, apparently unbothered by Giyuu’s appearance in the face of business. “I’ll give you a deal, only a handful of coins for a gentleman like yourself.”
Giyuu glanced at the boy out of the corner of his eye, inquisitive. The teen would likely continue to pester him until Giyuu gave in, or someone else expressed interest, which was unlikely considering the condition of the cart. It was serviceable, but others in horse drawn carriages were having more luck in receiving passengers than this young man, his mule looking a little on the thin side. The boy himself seemed a little on the thin side as well, his cheek bones beginning to sag.
Giyuu did a mental calculation of the currency he had on his person, predicted expenses he would inevitably have in Hokkaido and what emergency funds he could not afford to dip into. Giyuu deemed himself frugal enough to afford the expenditure and nodded to the teenager. The effect was that of a flame, luminous, and immediate. The boy beamed at the Water Hashira ecstatically.
“Thank you sir! You won’t regret this! Please come this way.” He pulled Giyuu over to his cracking carriage, one of the wheels struggling to remain on its axil. The mule attached to the cart was a gelded bay, with long whiskers and brown markings around its muzzle; one long ear swiveled to take stock of the pair. Giyuu peered at the woodwork, hesitating again before sighing to himself and getting into the booth. It was unpadded, the seat harder than the forest floor Giyuu had slept on.
The boy swung himself into the driver's seat, gathering the long reins into his hands and clicking to the mule, “Off we go, I’ll take you directly into Hokkaido sir!” He yelled over his shoulder. The cart shifted forward, rumbling as it began to creak along. Several locals eyed Giyuu with a sneer, this time not for his costume but because of where he had chosen to sit. Unbothered, Giyuu kept his eyes forward.
The mule was accustomed to its job and settled into an upbeat tempo as it trotted, nostrils flaring slightly. It was skinny but fit, worked hard but kept sound. Giyuu could tell the boy loved his mule and cared for it outside of needing it for work. Rolling his shoulders, Giyuu eased himself against the backrest, mentally preparing to go at a slower pace than he would have on his own. He couldn’t even argue that he would be more rested to slay the demon, the cart jostled him so much Giyuu thought he might get dizzy.
To his horror, the boy turned in his seat and smiled at Giyuu, “Where are you from sir?”
Externally stone faced but internally sighing again, Giyuu forced himself to respond, his voice mono-tonal. “A small village to the east you will not have heard of.”
“The east yeah? I’ve never been out eastward, but it sounds nice. How close to the ocean?”
“Not close at all.”
“But surely you wish you had grown up near the seaside?”
Giyuu remained silent, having regrets.
Still the boy continued, oblivious, “I would like to visit the sea one day, wouldn’t you? I had dreams about being a fisherman when I was young and sailing along the waves.” He trailed off before grinning, “But then who would take care of my Haku?” He lurched forward in the cart and patted the animal’s croup.
Giyuu glanced at the mule and thought he could probably take very good care of himself.
Sitting back down, the boy nosily asked another question. "What are you doing in Hokkaido sir? Business trip? A much-needed vacation?” The teens eyes widen, the velvety blue refracting a spot of light, “A wedding?”
Giyuu’s left eye twitched. “Business.”
“What kind of business?” His eyes got impossibly wider, “Do you own a fancy bag? One of those work cases?”
The Hashira quieted, allowing the boy to make his own conclusions.
The boy was mercifully silent for a few moments, ponderous, before opening his mouth again.
“Do you want to hear any fun facts about Hokkaido?”
Giyuu groaned.
-
Shinobu watched with a stiff smile as yet another door was slammed shut in her face. The Hashira could feel her nails digging into her palms, creating crescents and quickly relaxed her fingers, forcing herself calm. Shinobu pivoted curtly, walking off the doorstep and paced to the end of the road.
No one was cooperating.
Shinobu saw the signs. The shuttered windows, the reclusive groups always sticking together, the increase in talisman and amulet’s hanging along the exterior walls of houses. This community was being terrorized by a demon, but everyone refused to talk to Shinobu about even a bit of it. The townspeople in the Yuuton district would not take her seriously, partly because she was a small woman and partly because that would make the unspoken situation real.
Shinobu could feel the veins in her neck bulging and sharply told herself off. Standing stock still in the middle of the road, she took a deep breath and pasted a smile on her lips, telling herself that Kanae would not act like this. Against Shinobu’s best efforts, the stray thought slipped in anyway.
Kanae was never treated like this to begin with, being the tall, strong, lovely woman she was. People would tell her about anything and anyone under the sun, soothed by her presence.
Shinobu felt her fingers curl into fists again.
Promptly grasping her forearm, the Insect Hashira pinched her skin, twisting it painfully.
Shinobu furiously jolted forward again, marching onwards. By the time Shinobu had reached the end of the lane, her smile, her shoulders and her temper were firmly back into the places they were supposed to. Shinobu’s anger was still a living breathing lead in her chest but now it was wrapped down tightly, packed into her bones where it could be sealed away and left alone to rot for now.
Shinobu diverted her path into a side snicket, grasping a ladder reaching to the top of a roof. Pulling herself over the edge, Shinobu began to run along the rooftops, leaping gracefully to cross the distances between buildings when she saw that the coast was clear. There was one more section of Yuuton that she had the time to investigate, before night would fall and the danger would rise.
Throwing herself off the window frame of a random apartment, Shinobu landed as light as a feather onto the cobble stone path. Dusting herself off, Shinobu courteously nodded to people winding their way through the rundown town. Their expressions were cautious and unfriendly, but Shinobu suspected that this was more a result of their distrust of strangers rather than her appearance.
Yuuton’s lowest and most central region was also its poorest, with a deep history of poverty being the perfect breeding ground for city wide discrimination. The men here worked back breaking labor to provide for overly large families, the women presented their bodies to the lustful eyes of foreigners to ensure they could eat, and the children ran about like rats in infectious clothing, scurrying along the skeletons of decomposing, dilapidated buildings.
Shinobu ideally avoided these particular areas when intel gathering, not because she considered herself above them in station but because these were the sorts of places where if someone went missing, people likely didn't notice or didn't care. A dog-eat-dog world. Unfortunately, Shinobu was out of options. She could expand her search to the entire city, but from what she had observed entering the city bounds, Yuuton was the most affected of the masses.
Sighing quietly to herself, Shinobu steeped off a main street and into a side alley. Trash dirtied the sidewalks, piling up in heaps and small hills that stunk to high heaven. The odor was so potent that Shinobu could feel her nose burn when she walked too close to the waste, the vileness sure to include fecal matter. Turning sharply down an even narrower path, Shinobu angled herself to tread through the middlemost portion of the snicket, allowing her to be seen easily. Additionally, her footsteps resounded in the air; any trace of silence she maintained jumping across rooftops lost.
Shinobu needed to find children she decided, young but not too young, if she were to have any chance at getting information. The youth would be wary, saddeningly so, but were far less jaded when it came to helping others.
As if summoned, a noise caught Shinobu’s ears. She pivoted to peer at a closed sweets shop, the windows boarded with remnants of glass shards. The door had been entirely removed from its hinges, a single piece of fabric hanging nailed to the frame as a covering. Shinobu stepped towards the front, raising a hand to lift the cloth over her head, and documented her surroundings with a professional eye. The store was barren, shelves raided, tables overturned and missing limbs with lamp fixtures irreparably smashed. There were no clear signs of life, but as Shinobu focused on her senses, even the life forms of hidden children caught her attention.
The Hashira checked her smile before kneeling on the floorboards, the hem of her haori laying on the ground. She curled her shoulders inwards, shrinking into herself to appear smaller. An impressive feat, considering she was already of such a slight stature.
“Yoo-hoo!” She called, airy but not loud.
Stillness took over, the atmosphere freezing as the words reverberated. Shinobu could imagine the children hiding behind the cashier’s counter grasping their mouths, desperately trying to go unseen, unheard. Shinobu reached into the purse kept on her form, pulling out her pocketbook.
“I have a few questions, if you answer them this will be yours.” The slayer jingled the purse; the metal dollars clanged together obviously.
Shinobu waited patiently, chattering. “I am not trying to cause trouble but merely passing through your town. I am looking for someone, a dear friend who has gone missing, please could you help me find my friend by telling me if you have seen, heard or noticed anything out of the ordinary?”
It wasn't unusual for Shinobu to lie to collect intel; people were always most responsive when she tugged at their heart strings. Besides, someone's friend was very likely at stake.
She persisted, “You don’t have to come out of your hiding spot, I won’t force you, but just a few words, a few hints and I’ll leave these coins where I’m sitting and you’ll never see me again.”
The air was silent, unmoved. Shinobu reached a hand into her pouch and noisily dropped the money onto the wood, the currency hitting the beams with a clack. The Hashira sat up again, back straight this time as she steeled her voice, “Please,” She implored, “I beg of you to help me-”
“The masks!”
It came out in a gasp, a breath of fresh air sneaked out from against a palm sealing a mouth and nose tight, the hand finally peeling off. The pitch was feminine and impossibly young, more of a squeak than anything.
Immediately, a clap was heard. Shinobu could picture another child, likely older and wiser, slapping a hand over a younger child’s to keep them silent. It was futile however, Shinobu already knew exactly where they were in the room, even an intoxicated adult would know from that give away.
Shinobu moved to soothe, “It’s alright, I won’t hurt you. Please, what do you mean by masks?”
The air stilled again, sounds muffled. Shinobu braced herself for quietude, interrogating children was never something she enjoyed. Stubbornly, no voices were raised. The Insect Hashira glanced down at her coins, considering. Tentatively she picked one up and balanced it evenly between her fingers, lifting it up to her shoulder, before taking aim.
“I am going to toss a coin in your direction, perhaps it will confirm my intentions. If it lands on one of you, I apologize, I have never been very good at throwing.”
Shinobu flicked her wrist, as she would to test a syringe. The coin made an arc in the air before landing loudly on the other side of the counter. Both children startled, what sounded like a back ramming into a cupboard made Shinobu wince in apology. Perhaps that was too improvised.
“I’m sorry! Are you both alright?”
Again, nothing.
Shinobu waited again for another several minutes, turning the idea of launching more coins over the furniture before deciding against it. Sighing internally, Shinobu moved to stand. It seemed she would have to try her luck with the adults after all.
The volume was near undetectable, the voice hesitant. “The people who disappear, they all wore the masks.”
Shinobu paused. Another voice rose, the one who originally responded. Her girlish tone was charming, even under all the fear. “Your friend is gone miss, all those who wear the festival masks at night get taken, its best you leave.”
The Hashira mulled this over, pondering her next words carefully, “Festival masks? Is there a certain kind?”
The girl began to respond but the older boy swiftly cut her off, “You’ll need another coin for that.”
Shinobu grinned, amused. “Of course.” She easily threw a silver dollar over their heads, this time a hand coming up to catch it in the air.
The boy spoke again, much more confident. “Only the demon masks make people disappear, the others are safe.” He halted, “Miss, truly a beast comes to Hokkaido at night during the market hours. If you want to be safe, stay inside and avoid the stalls. Your friend is probably dead or will be soon.”
Shinobu was glad her friend was metaphorical, or this would be quite the disappointing news. “I see. Thank you for your honesty, I will leave the rest of the money here for you to take when you feel comfortable. Please keep yourselves safe and take your own advice. Again, thank you, this has been very helpful to me.”
The pair was silent as Shinobu rose, rotating around to exit the shell of a store. She gave no glance over her shoulder or put a break in her step as the slayer finally, finally, had something to go off of.
Now, Shinobu thought with a slightly malicious air, things can begin.
-
Hokkaido’s nightlife was truly impressive, the sheer volume of the candlelight and lantern fires magnifying Shinobu’s diurnal vision. Bodies squeezed and mixed around her, a concoction of white skin and onyx hair with very little variation. Many people were wearing or holding masks, she noticed, across all age brackets. She kept a sharp eye out for any demon designed masks, the boys words recounting in her ear, but had yet to see any. Shinobu wondered why Yuuton was so effected of all the districts, poor people simply did not waste money to buy festival décor.
Shinobu dodged a market girl with a tray of make up, trying not to get swept up in anything. Vendors selling a variety of goods were particularly aggressive this evening, a Friday night, practically throwing things at passersby from sweet pastes to handheld mirrors.
Shinobu rubbed the sleeve of her kimono as she strolled down the street, doing her best not to knock into anyone. She could finally make good use of the butterfly patterned fabric, her obi a lovely lilac that tied snugly around her slim waist. Looking through the heavy crowds, Shinobu once again felt the weight of this mission. It would be beyond difficult to find the demon inside such numbers, already had been, and the people of Hokkaido were not very willing to point her in the right direction. Except for bribed children of course.
Still, it would be useful to have an ally, a fellow slayer. Someone to help her put the jigsaw together. Shinobu continued to ponder but decided against calling for back up; she was yet to be in real danger, and the Corps could not afford to send her resources when she was simply feeling the daunting task asked of her. No, she would not waste another's time.
Shinobu halted as a young man stepped in front of her, his eyes casting about her physique quickly and he opened his mouth before she could even take a breath.
“Young miss!” He beamed, the picture of charm, “What a beautiful kimono! It would pair so stunningly with this hair piece.” The young man raised his right hand to show off a brightly colored clasp, the end a hydrangea blooming a vivid indigo.
Shinobu smiled gracefully, “No thank you.”
The market lad was undeterred, “But it is undeserving of anyone but you! I will even sell it to you for cheap! Half price, quite a deal for a beauty like yourself.”
The Hashira’s smile tightened at the edges, keen to move along with her night, before answering politely, “No thank you, I am in a rush so I must ask you to step aside.”
Again, the man would not move. “I must insist! It would be a shame, a tragedy, to not have this clip on your lovely self.”
A vein appeared on Shinobu’s upper forehead, her fingers pinching at the cloth covering her concealed sword, patience wearing thin, “Please sir, kindly step aside.”
“Miss-”
“You heard her, she’s not interested.”
Shinobu froze, her features lifting into surprise. She turned sharply to see behind her, eyes finding the man standing stoically, hands relaxed at his sides.
“Tomioka.” She wondered aloud, “What are you doing here?”
Tomioka was silent, eyes fixed on the man blocking her path. The salesman backed off at the Water Hashira’s glare, cowed easily.
“Ah! I apologize for disturbing you miss, please have a delightful evening.” The young man swiftly stepped away from Shinobu, taking his hair clip with him, and dispersing into the crowd.
Shinobu watched him leave with apathy, her eyes swiveling back to Tomioka immediately. He remained quiet, face a stone wall. Shinobu found her smile returning, a cheeky quality delving into it.
“Tomioka,” Her voice called, a velvet purr, “Did you just save me from the market seller?” She giggled, “My word, how chivalrous” Stepping forward Shinobu poked him directly in the shoulder, “A true gentleman you are, shall I offer you my eternal gratitude and invite you over for tea?”
Shinobu observed her co-worker, amused at this turn of events, “Tomioka, if you don’t say anything I’ll assume you’ve gone deaf.”
Finally, the Water Hahira turned his ocean trench eyes to her violet ones, speaking with an even voice. “I’m not deaf Kocho.” He paused, adding, “Or disliked.”
Shinobu’s smile widened, “Who said anything about you being disliked?” She could see Tomioka’s expression shutter just a fraction as he realized the in he had offered her, and Shinobu just grinned, “Oh Tomioka, do you feel friendless amongst the members of the Corps?”
Tomioka began to walk away, falling into the cadence of the masses. Shinobu followed, hot on his heels. “I had no idea you felt such a way, perhaps if you spoke even a single word at the Hashira meetings or on missions, people wouldn’t collectively believe that you're such an arrogant recluse.”
Tomioka stayed silent, steps brisk. Shinobu soundlessly stepped into place by his side, laughing to herself as she teased Tomioka openly. It wasn’t until the male slayer halted and turned down another street that Shinobu thought to ask, “Why are you here Tomioka?” She quired, “You never said.”
Shinobu watched as he paused, face still before he opened his mouth, “Kanzaburo gave me orders from the master to come to Hokkaido. Because I was already patrolling nearby, he told me to assist you in your mission.”
The Insect Hashira observed him, cheering, “My, that might be the most words you’ve ever said to me in a single sentence!”
Tomioka turned to face forward again, ignoring her, and plowing through people in expensive kimonos carrying tasty treats. Shinobu quickly sped up to keep up with him, cursing her short legs. He seemed to be heading in a specific direction, she realized, crossing intersections and weaving through market stalls. When Shinobu looked hard enough, he had a little wrinkle at the top of his usually smooth brow.
“Tomioka?’ Shinobu reached a hand out to grasp the sleeve of his mismatched haori, “What are you looking for?”
“Salmon Daikon.” He tossed the words over his shoulder, careless to her beside him.
Shinobu blinked, “Salmon Daikon?” She peered at her companion, “You're looking for a place to eat?”
“A place to eat that sells Salmon Daikon.” He answered bluntly.
Confused, Shinobu stared at Tomioka as he continued to march through crowded areas, head turning which way to gaze into restaurant windows and shop fronts.
“Do you like Salmon Daikon?”
Tomioka glanced at her from the corner of his eye, nodding.
Shinobu huffed out a laugh, reigning in the urge to giggle again. “Well, you're in luck! I passed one earlier that advertised their Daikon as the best in the city.”
Suddenly, Tomioka turned to her, eyes alight. “Show me.”
Shinobu couldn’t help herself, laughter coming out of her in peals. Her co-worker waited impatiently for her to collect herself, lips pulling down into a subtle frown.
Shinobu wiped faux tears from her eyes as she began to walk, “Don’t scowl Tomioka, it doesn’t suit your features.”
The frown only deepened as Tomioka moved to follow her, the pair backtracking down a lane. Shinobu quieted her fit to raise a brow at him, “Does it hurt your ego to know frowning doesn't become of you?”
Tomioka remained impassive, “I fought a demon a few days ago who was incessant that I was unsightly, I had forgotten.”
Shinobu smiled, coy, “Well that demon was incorrect, I’m glad you killed it.”
It was Tomioka’s turn to stare at her, “You don’t find me unsightly?”
Shinobu peered at him, perplexed, “How silly! Of course you're not unsightly, rather handsome, in fact, Tomioka. I’m baffled this needs to be explained to you. Kanroji regularly swoons when she sees you.”
He went quiet again, retreating into his shell to mull over her words. It was true, Shinobu thought, as her gaze was pulled to the defined lines of Tomioka’s face all the way to the width of his shoulders. He was rather fetching.
Shinobu pulled to a stop in front of a storefront, eyeing the sign to confirm it was the one she had once passed. Tomioka brightened significantly, practically radiant as he lurched forward to grasp the door handle, swinging it open to get inside. The Insect Hashira watched with no small amounts of intrigue as he didn’t even stop to hold the door open for her but instead made himself comfortable at the hostess's side, asking for a table.
Shinobu pulled herself into the restaurant, walking up to Tomioka in a few wide steps.
This mission will be interesting, she thought, and went to stand beside her mission partner.
Tomioka was not her preferred Corps partner to be paired with, but in Hokkaido, Shinobu mused, he would do nicely.