#oc: mugwort

[xredmoonart]

*hits them with my pokemon BEAM!!!* 💥💥💥

[cozymochi]

I had a bad day, so I compiled the few NRC boys I have. Also corrections were made on all three both visually (because I made too many errors before that I missed🤦) and info wise because I made minor changes (so if there’s contradictions, that’s why.) I should have updated Emilio’s render altogether because it’s pretty old compared to the latter two, but I don’t feel like it.

But, I’ll link Emilio, Cecil, and Nyoka’s original posts anyway, since they include a bunch of expressions I still like and convey the vibes™️ better. That, and for my own self-reference. Okay, I will no longer spam or clog up the dash with these things. Also credit to @oddberryshortcake cuz the boys are also semi collaborative 🤭 uhh, that’s it.

Ko-fi

[serennes-art]

more comm progress!

[lookingviewer]

Happy ending of the OW Arc and my birthday!✨

this day is both sad and joyful

It’s sad because our favorite short story is finishing its story, and I’m moving from 20 to 21... Scary

But the happy thing is that the torment of the characters will be over! And that I managed to draw at least some art:D

@just-a-carrot , thank you so much again for creating and sharing parts of yourself in this story!

The characters feel like they are alive, like us, ordinary people (even though they are older than us🤣)

The story is that even in adulthood, there can also be problems, experiences, and thoughts about the past: Did I live well?

Like the same question for me: Did I live this year well? Do you regret it?

A story in which we saw different types of people, their past, and who they became (and also teaches us how not to behave)

Story - in which we can see ourselves. See from the outside or see your reflection in the characters.

The story, when you, Carrot, shared with us.

First Easter, now Our Wonderland, but I am sure that the story is not over, and there will be the same good story as the past (If the thought of it comes to you, of course!)

In addition: “The author’s work will live forever as long as people remember and talk about it."

There is no need to be afraid to create, there is no need to be afraid to try, experiment. Because creativity, art is the same way to show our thoughts, history and feelings ✨

We had problems, trials, but we get through them, with loved ones or ourselves.

Still, Carrot, thank you so much for inspiring me to create, albeit so often, but the desire and motivation to draw.

Because, I love to draw. Create. Give people happiness :3

Thanks to my friends for supporting me (especially @quamaii , companion in Wonderland>:) ) and to you Carrot for reacting and sharing cute moments from life, hehehe✨

p.s.

Wow, did I make it? Did I make it on time?

No, but maybe I’ll finish it. But it looks beautiful this way too ✨

Wow 👀🦊✨

P.s.s if I finish the drawing, I’ll just change the art and that’s it 👀

[fnafs-ex-boyfriend]

Furries of tumblr is this anything? 1920s drama

[sammywolfgirl]

Some more vampire au, started strong and then just went into shitposying

I love how timekeeper is such a cringe fail vampire here, like in any other context they’re at least competent at their abilities but this bat? Got stuck in bay form for days and the higher ups had to make up excuses for them being ‘missing’ for so long

It’s great especially when contrasted with wrend who’s like Dracula lmao

[voidnstars]

told you id get that art out tonight

reminder that the line art is odd looking (more then usual) because my hand is injured rn and i cant hold a pen right, anyways meet Charlie mugwort!

[vespaer77]

Pairing: Gale x Named OC/Tav Author play through, making it up as we go =) Rating: Eventual smut 'cause you know they bone. Cosmically.

Link to read on AO3

Summary: Tempest Tidewater's Terrific Teas, Tonics, and Tinctures had been her whole life. She'd built her little shop from nothing but an empty shack and a dream, turning it into a household name in Neverwinter for all things aches and ailments. But at the height of her success, a mystery had begun to unfold. Her supply chain had suddenly run dry, amongst strange rumors of troubles brewing near Baldur's Gate. Left no choice but to leave her life's work shuttered and dormant behind her, Tempest embarked upon a journey south seeking answers, never anticipating the wild adventure she'd soon be set upon. This is a story of friendships and struggles, of mindflayers and cultists, but mostly… of how an artificer and a wizard fell in love.

Tempest Tidewater could hear the rush of the river behind her. And if she kept her eyes closed and stayed very still, she could almost imagine she was back in Neverwinter, gathering mergrass by the shore and waiting for a ship to arrive from Baldur's Gate carrying herbs that were found in greater abundance near the Cloakwood. And though the fabled market district in Waterdeep would claim the greater bulk of the supply, she could still rely heavily on trade to bring her things like mugwort, belladonna, and autumncrocus. Even balsam and daggerroot. If she could've sourced the quantities she'd needed from the surrounding hillsides, she would never have left. But the latitudes just weren't as favorable.

And the shipments had begun to dwindle. She'd even started struggling to make simple healing potions.

She hadn't been the only shop owner to feel the pinch. The Chionthar was a huge artery, carrying a heavy and widely varying flow of trade goods down from the continent and out through Baldur's Gate, to seek foreign ports all along the Sword Coast. The fall of Elturel had only been the beginning. Soon after came troubling rumors of hoards of devilkin roaming the surrounding forests and villages. Then there were tales goblins and gnolls, raiding tollhouses and terrorizing towns and fishermen.

And then it was drow.

And then it was cultists.

But now it was like a dream.

If she stayed very still, she could imagine that she would just wake up, safe at home. That she would open her eyes and step out of her bed, warmed by the first rays of sunshine that spilled past her windowsill. Like the ones washing over her even now. She would dance down her creaky little staircase, humming a tune as she donned her cured leather apron to begin sorting her ingredients and measuring caustic solvents. She would eat scones with honey and start boiling the kettles to brew the tea.

And if she stayed very still, so still, deadly still and just kept her eyes closed, she could smell it. The tea. Lavender to calm, mint to soothe, rosehips to heal, and currant for a smile. And of course her prized morning tea - a black blend, lively and bright, yet also acrid and smoky. Heady, like the wood coals of a bread oven. Or a campfire. Or like smoldering flames.

Like ashes falling all around her.

Flesh burning, still on fire.

And then a sound came from behind her, or above or all around her. Large chunks of detritus, groaning before falling and splashing into the water. Sounds of fragile wreckage crackling with heat before submitting to the forces of gravity. She was not safe.

Her eyes flew open and she sat up straight.

It was real, all of it. The gangplank bouncing beneath her knees as she boarded the ship without looking back. The beautiful, hazy blue mirage of Blackstaff crowning the horizon as her ship passed Waterdeep. Even her capture by a nightmarish nautiloid ship. And finally, her infestation with an illithid tadpole. All of it. It was no dream, and she would not be waking up. Her life's work - the entirety of her savings, her education, and her efforts, the whole sum of all her meager accomplishments - lie shuttered and dormant behind her to collect cobwebs and late fees and tax penalties, possibly in perpetuity.

Tempest Tidewater's Terrific Teas, Tonics, and Tinctures.

Yes. Terrific, indeed. A terrific loss. The latest in a lifelong string of them. How could she ever rebuild?

How she longed for one more piece of Tangy Tidewater Taffy. How she ached for one single, soothing cup of tea. She could just lay back down and mildew into the wet sand instead, never open her eyes again and become as sun-bleached as a sand dollar before sinking away forever. But she'd made a promise to herself, long ago, when she left her childhood home. When she spent so long languishing in inadequacy at the top of a wizard's spire. When she felt so lost and so alone - a feeling that had never left her, if she was honest.

She'd promised herself that she would not let this world beat her.

So, she groaned and slapped her knees, and summoned the strength to stand up and brush herself off. She wanted to scream. She wanted to weep. She wanted to take this hurt that sat in her belly like a blade and wrench it out. Oh, how she yearned to find that stupid fucking marid that cursed her family line and punch that bitch in the throat. After all, woe betide anyone who dared to be born genasi. At least, in the pastoral communities that worked the land and fed the breadbasket of Neverwinter.

Already exhausted into apathy by her anger, she chose to inspect herself for hidden injuries then she turned a slow circle to get her bearings.

Despite the black smoke still pouring out of the purple, tentacled abomination lying crushed and dead on the beach, the sky was warm and blue and cloudless, letting cheerful sunlight glitter across the water. An insect buzzed past her nose to land on plump, abundant blades of mergrass swaying in the light, gentle breeze of late afternoon. It was a perfectly lovely day, all things considered.

Wherever she was.

To ground herself and wash the grime of battle from her skin, she took off her boots and waded out into the river for spell. There was time for aimless wandering later. The daylight was already fading, and she wouldn't get far before she'd need to forge together some sort of camp for the night. So she allowed herself a moment of peace to float on her back and let her hair billow and fan all around her. She let the water cradle her like the mother she never had. One that wanted her. She listened to the river as it filled her ears and she dug her heels into the gravel, heeding the mild, placid current as it filtered through her toes. It renewed and replenished her, feeding her courage and a connection to the world around her, a direction forward like the needle on a compass.

Which she found she needed immediately when she stepped out of the water and slipped her feet back into her boots. Ahead of her, twisted and face down where they fell, lie the crumpled forms of those who were less fortunate than her. The poor souls who did not survive the crash, or possibly even the circumstances of their capture to begin with. Their blood soaked the dirt in dark puddles beneath them, and insects had begun gathering to feast. Clouds of them hung heavily in the low, orange shafts of afternoon sun.

But then she saw something move. Something so small she nearly missed it.

It was a foot, just ahead, along the trail of the scar the nautiloid had carved into the earth. And then Tempest thought she heard a moan. Someone was alive. With any luck, it was one of the women she'd met while still aboard the ship. The githyanki had been a skilled fighter, and if one could forgive her ruthless demeanor, she was clearly beneficial to have as a traveling companion. And Shadowheart, while cagey and mysterious, was a cleric. It was possible the girl's skills in the healing arts could even rival her own.

So she finally moved forward. Solid strides with purpose, one foot in front of the other, and with each step she felt that purpose grow. With each step, faces and words and memories circled through her mind like water down a drain. A wizard who preferred her as a pet rather than an apprentice - a meal ticket, as long as her mother's monthly tuition kept rattling in his coffers. A mother who couldn't wait to sell her once she finally came of age, and at last could pretend her family curse did not exist.

And a kind mentor, the first and only to see beyond the places where planar elements had marked her, who had the courage to nuture an untapped spark of potential, and whose only crime was to simply die of old age, happy and fulfilled.

She wondered if Mister Henry would still be proud of her, now that she'd lost everything. Now that she'd conflated her own courage with foolishness. But then his voice called to her from the depths of her own memory, steeling her nerves as she knelt beside the dark-haired cleric who stirred in her slumber on the sand. It was something he'd told her when he'd first taken her in, when no one else would.

"Look for the light in the darkness, girl," he'd said. "It will always be there. They may be at odds, but they are still sisters. Where one ends, the other surely begins. Look for the light, do not fear the dark, and be ready to begin."

In many ways, her life had begun the day she'd met him.

And it would not end here on this shore.

"Okay," she murmured to herself, reaching to shake Shadowheart's shoulder. "It's okay. I'm okay.

"I'm ready to begin."

[thatfooltheycallweaver]

In My Dreams it's Still the Same

Day 8 of @fluff-cember

Prompt: Sparkling Snow

Pairing: Meredith O'Connor [OC] x James Delaney

Fandom: Taboo

Word Count: 719

London had always been too chaotic, too loud, and too disconnected for Meredith to find peace within it. But that was nothing a strong cup of mugwort tea couldn’t fix. The fire in her room was beginning to die out, leaving behind the smell of wood-smoke that she enjoyed. Removing the corset and changing out of her chemise and into her sleepwear, she practically fell into bed and got comfortable under the blankets, allowing the warmth to envelop her, lulling her into a comfortable sleep. The next time she opened her eyes, she was nearly blinded by the sunlight. She sat up, feeling something other than the soft grass of her typical scrapped-together-from-memory meadow. It was powdery snow, cool to the touch, but not cold. She stood looking around. The snow shimmered in the light, and evenly blanketed the area as far as the eye could see. It had been quite some time since she had seen snow that hadn’t been tainted by the muck in the streets or by the smoke of the London sky, so it might have been brighter than it should have been. The snow was undisturbed, save for the stream that separated the banks, the large tree where the branches were covered in a thin layer of ice, and a set of footprints just at the edge of her vision. Outside of that, she knew by the shift in the air that she was not alone. But that didn’t frighten her, it had been an open invitation to begin with. It always had been, for him.

“I hope you’re not here for the reason I suspect…James.” She called gently. “You needn’t hide. I know your energy. I still recall, even after all this time.” She turned to see him standing parallel to her, shirtless, pants tied loosely at his hips. The tattoos were new to her. Decidedly tribal, they suited him.

“You and I have not spoken for quite some time.” He responded, tilting his head slightly. “I didn’t think it fair to approach you in such a way until we’d had a chance to…speak.”

“You and I have not seen each other for quite some time, either. To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” She bowed, more as a joke rather than to mock him.

“I did not have time at the funeral, so I am making time now.” His eyes glanced over her as she decided how to react. She didn’t know if she was annoyed, upset, relieved, or what--but the happiness at seeing him again won out. She approached and hugged him.

“I was terrified you had died.” She admitted as she felt him hesitate. Meredith went to move away from him, but he pulled her in at the last moment, placing a kiss on her forehead. “Not a day went by that I didn’t think of you, and wish for your safety. I burned so many candles for your protection…”

“I know. I felt it.” His expression was unreadable, but his voice wavered just the slightest. His hold on her tightened.

“Why here, why now? Why after all this time?” She asked, looking up at him.

“I cannot tell you tonight. There is much work to be done.” He caressed her cheek. “The feelings I have for you have not diminished, Meredith.”

“Nor have the ones I hold for you. But ten years…doesn’t go away so easily.” He tilted her face up by the chin.

“It clearly can, if I have owned your heart for so long. You do not pull away from me, you do not banish me from your realm…” His lips brushed against hers. “You left the door open for me. Ten years can be mended, if you only let me.” It wasn’t much of a debate for her. She nodded.

“We can begin again, mo ghrá.” He smiled.

“My love.” He repeated. Her eyes fixed into his, her pulse quickening.

“You…you remembered.”

“It is not something I would easily forget.” She responded only by pressing her lips to his in a soft, almost tentative kiss. A welcome return, a reunion ten years in the making; marked by a growing fervor, a desire to not break the connection, to hold one another closer.

And to make up for lost time, in any way possible.

[oddberryshortcake]

if you were to have an oc that wasn’t a Yuu

(or if you breathed life into a nameless background character)

which dorm would you probably put them in or focus on?

I actually have a few non-MC original characters! Four of which are students at NRC. 

The characters I have are shared with @cozymochi 

This includes Cecil Mugwort, Emilio Estrada Alvarez, and two characters who have not yet debuted yet oooo!! 👀👀

I’m going to talk about Emilio because it was actually a comment I made during me and Cozy’s watch of Elena of Avalor that inspired his creation, his signature spell and placed him in Scarabia!

Spoilers for Elena of Avalor! (You should still watch it btw)

A core part of Esteban’s character is his ability to predict things that often goes ignored by other characters. 

But the moment that really made me go “he’d totally be in Scarabia” is the scene where he is arrested in the dungeon and he convinces a member of the royal guard to get him a statue his dead mother gifted him by fake sobbing. 

Once he gets it, he smashes it to reveal he hid a key in there 40 years ago when the woman he helped seize his uncle’s throne took power, just in case she ever betrayed him. 

If that’s not Scarabian foresight, I don’t know what is. 

I think a lot of people don’t think of Scarabia too often, both because there are only two canon characters in that dorm, and also because those two characters aren’t very popular. 

The students there are meant to be more inclined to being mindful, to judge and plan carefully. Someone like Emilio, who is so obsessed with status that he does everything correctly and outstandingly, and his literal magic allows him to have sound judgment and make careful decisions, is perfect for the dorm. 

And I kinda got attached to giving Scarabia little trio scenarios lol

[xredmoonart]

happy birthday my silly muggoboy!! keep on keeping on 🦋

[cozymochi]

“Gosh, I wonder what kind of day my birthday will be… Please, please have things go my way for once...!”

happy [redacted] birthday Cecil Mugwort here’s a makeshift “cozy loungewear” iteration. but with 60% less quality control because i had second thoughts on nearly every aspect halfway through, but i was too far in and already made a commitment publicly 🫠

pretend voiceless lines were collaborated on with @/oddberryshortcake under cut. If that’s anyones speed.

Summon: “Being able to tend to my plants at the end of a long day is my favorite part of my dorm room, I can’t think of a better way to spend the night before my birthday.”

Groovification: “There goes those clocks again…It’s practically telling me to get up and start another day.”

Home: “Late nights are so peaceful.”

Swap Looks: “Ugh, I need to get my unruly hair out of my face!”

Home Transition 1: “Having Silver as a roommate isn’t so bad… If you forget the whole ‘sleeping through five alarm clocks’ thing he does.”

Home Transition 2: “It’s a little embarrassing, but I love how soft and fuzzy these pajamas are. They keep me warm all night.”

Home Transition 3: “THE Vil Schoenheit gave me eye cream for my dark circles. Does he think they look really bad? I was so nervous I dropped the bottle right after getting it…”

Home Transition - Login: “My birthdays are usually spent celebrating my twin sister’s birthday too. But here at NRC, I can celebrate my birthday just by myself. It’s nice not having to share for today.”

Home Transition - Groovy: “Nyoka Wadjet gave me some fancy looking cup as a gift. I told him it’d make a nice new home for my Ice Lilies , but he almost seemed upset I’d be using it that way. Did he just want me to let it collect dust?”

Home Tap 1: “I mustn’t let Ollie trick me into feeding him his dinner twice. Tricky ol’ bird.”

Home Tap 2: “I made sure to send my twin sister a card for our birthday. I actually got one from her today too! For once, she didn’t brag about herself in it… She even pressed a small flower into the envelope.”

Home Tap 3: “Housewarden Malleus Draconia approached me earlier. He just wanted to tell me happy birthday but I was so scared I nearly collapsed where I stood… Ahem! Of course, I still said thank you!”

Home Tap 4: “Just one more page of this ancient magical relics book and then I’ll turn in for the night. Oh, but next chapter is on amulets. Maybe a few more pages then…”

Home Tap 5: “Do I dye my bangs? No, its just a condition I was born with. It spreads a little further every year. At this rate, I’m gonna go gray before I graduate…”

Home Tap - Groovy: “I try not to stay up too late, but I can’t help it! Everything is silent, it’s just me, my bird, my books and my plants. It’s such bliss at night.”

Duo:

[CECIL]: “T-Thanks for celebrating, Nyoka!”

[NYOKA]: “It's no trouble, Cecil.”

Birthday Login Message: “Oh, you’re wishing me a happy birthday? I didn’t think you’d remember. You know, the science club pitched in and got me a new plant today. It was a pleasant surprise to know my seniors had been paying such close attention to my interests. …Hm? Is this your present? You made a card all by yourself? …This is much more thoughtful than the ill-fitting sweaters and mugs I normally get, thank you.”

[ramlightly]

your ocs are so tasty!! i need to know more about thistle so bad is there anything you're willing to share?

Oh boy, do I!

Thistle is a demon originally made fight wars in the Fields of Iron and Blood (the war circle). Created from the blood of her general, she was meant to fight, kill, and die for the endless proxy wars that Hell uses to deal with any conflict. After watching her army/family get destroyed, she became disillusioned with her purpose and run away from the Fields.

After that, she ended up traveling to the Gardens of Malum (the lust circle) and becoming Dandelion's bodyguard. This usually means showing up when he's pissed someone off and scaring them away. She

She also has two siblings, the only other survivors of the army. Acanthus the War Bear (left) and Mugwort (right). She loves them a lot. Really.

[artharakka]

33, 40, 45 for the oc ask meme?

Woah I finally have a proper day off without having anything scheduled! So some more oc ask doodles it is because I still have a bunch of these in my askbox ✨🧡

33. Your shyest OC?

Rhiam. Though often during any kind of intense moments like in fights Rhiam gets into some kind of flow state where they just act on intuition (because they don't have time to overthink).

45. A character you no longer use?

Oh so many! But at the same time I don't know? Because I tend to have some active stories and characters I rotate in my mind and some stories are kind of abandoned (for now), but time to time I pick some old characters from them and reuse them in some new setting. Here's one that I haven't been tempted to recycle though:

I don't even remember did I name her anything besides Queen. She was a cold monarch in the first version of my oldest proper story and one of the story's main antagonists. She was replaced with other kind of antagonists over time as the story developed. She wasn't very deeply developed since I was like... 14? when I made the story. She was obsessed with keeping the power in her hands which drove her to severe paranoia that made her blame the story's protagonist's love interest of stealing the magical crown jewel and the protagonist was to find the real culprit. Her son Lumi, on the other hand, who was just a side character in the original story, became a more important character in the later versions of the story. He was also forgotten for a time but lately I resurrected a version of him to my space ttrpg that I've sometimes posted on my Patreon. So, some version of this queen also still lives as Lumi's mother.

40. Any fond memories linked to your characters?

So many to so many! Majority of my ocs I've created or introduced to shared projects of me, @iijadraws & @artist-rat so creating ocs and stories is mostly a communal activity with friends for me 🧡 There are the protagonists of our graphic novel (currently on back burner), Kasimira, Sonja, and Idla, that are very dear as we started the project in 2016 when we were getting to know each other. Currently I'm cherishing Rhiam's ttrpg campaign Heartland which artist-rat is DMing as during it we have been getting back to hanging out just the three of us after life got in the way (there were happy things as well, but time consuming). But there are two characters that came to mind first when thinking about fond memories:

Pujo ("Mugwort") and Paju ("Willow") are twin characters of me and @artist-rat (Paju is mine, Pujo Rat's). We created them when we weren't in that good place (at least I was in the pits of depression and burnout). And also after we hadn't seen each other in half a year after I was studying in Canada. They are not us, but there's also something that makes them the most "us" characters we have. They have had rough times and a bit broken family, but they are always there for each other. I projected my depression heavily on Paju, and kind of started to resent them because I started to resent myself. But my friends loved Paju (and me) despite their flaws and depression and so I also started to gain my own self esteem ❤. For us they embody the kind of comfort there is in a not-that-grand commuter town apartment that has been made in to a home despite the bland facade. Or going to get takeout late in the evening, but it's still warm and light because of the northern summer's barely setting sun. They started as Skyrim characters, but have since been adapted to many settings. A couple of years ago I started to draw small slice of life comics about them, but I got busy with graduating etc. I've been thinging of starting that kind of a project about them again though.

[wisteriashouse]

wind blows, petals scatter

pairing: kamado tanjirou x sumiyuri hayami (oc)

genre: fluff

word count: 13.6k

remarks:  thank you for trusting me with your commission @hinokami-s​ 💖

“Mitarashi or kusa dango?”

Hayami scrunches up her face, one finger hooking around he long strands of her ponytail as she contemplates the two sticks held out to her.The mitarashi dango has a wonderfully sweet and charred flavour after being grilled over an open fire, but the steamed mugwort leaves give the kura dango a subtly earthy taste that reminds her of roasted tea. Both are delicious. How can she possibly be asked to choose between the two?

Tanjirou smiles as she continues to mull over her choices. “Still can’t decide?”

“Don’t rush me,” Hayami scolds without looking up at him, but her tone is playful. “This is a very important decision. I would have no problem eating both if you hadn’t made me participate in that soba eating competition…” she pats her tummy with a rueful smile, “I’ve never felt so full in my entire life. If I try to eat more than a stick of dango, I think I might explode.”

Tanjirou lets out a laugh at that, and Hayami can’t help the way her own lips twitch upwards in response. This entire evening has been the most relaxed she has been for a long time. The past few months for her have consisted of back to back missions, and travelling all over the country to chase down high level demons. It’s meaningful work, of course, but exhausting as well.

She had been on her way back to the Butterfly Estate after completing yet another mission, tired and hungry, when she’d run into Tanjirou in the nearby town. The two had then caught up over several bowls of soba. And now, they are wandering the streets in search of something sweet to fulfil Hayami’s craving for dessert.

Hayami doesn’t remember the last time she simply ventured the streets, searching for delicious snacks instead of demon tracks. Being able to spend such leisurely time with one of her close friends feels like a breath of fresh air — one that she hadn’t quite realised that she needed.

“We should definitely try to avoid exploding, if we can.” Tanjirou agrees, still smiling. “Still, both dangos look good to me. Should we buy both of them and split them between us?”

“Oh, that’s a good idea.” Hayami pulls out a few bronze coins from her money pouch and drops them into the stall owner’s waiting hands before Tanjirou can get a word in. “No, no, let me pay.”

“But I wanted to treat you…”

“Perhaps next time, if you manage to move more quickly than me,” she tease, before grabbing his wrist and pulling him after her. The stall owner is starting to look exasperated with them. “Thank you, ojisan.”

The two of them continue to make their way down the streets, now with dango in hand. The sun has not quite begun to set yet — orange light rippling over the mountain tops in the distance. Ever since becoming a demon slayer, Hayami has always found herself acutely aware of the sun’s position in the sky.

Hazard of the trade, she supposes.

“Has your sword been fixed yet?” Hayami prompts Tanjirou, as the two of them aimlessly amble along. This part of the town is less crowded than the food street they’d just left, with the merchant shops and stalls starting to close shop for the night. She takes a bite of the skewer in her hand. The kusa dango is rich and earthy in her mouth. “I heard Haganezuka-san has become incredibly busy as of late.”

“He’s working to make a new sword for another slayer, so fixing my sword has been put on a waitlist.” Hayami can feel the sigh that Tanjirou lets out all the way to her bones. “I know it was my fault that it got chipped, but I’m just glad that he’s too occupied to try to kill me again.”

“Swords chip all the time, it wasn’t your fault,” Hayami reminds him, but Tanjirou refuses to hear any of it. The two debate back and forth as they walk. She’s barely gotten him to concede that Haganezuka’s swords, like all other swordsmiths’ blades, can’t be completely infallible when Tanjirou suddenly comes to a halt. They’ve reached the border of the town.

Following the path that they’ve been on would lead them back to the Butterfly Estate for the night. As though the same thought has just passed through their minds, the two glance at each other before sharing a quick laugh between them.

“Tired?” Tanjirou asks, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Not really, no.” Hayami’s reply is immediate. She had been exhausted earlier, but now she feels as light as a feather on her feet. She wants to spend more time with Tanjirou — perhaps they could wander the town just a bit longer. “I could fight a demon right now.”

“Let’s hope that doesn’t happen.” Tanjirou glances down at the path once again, before he turns back to Hayami, the tips of his sandals scuffing the ground idly.

Now that Hayami has a chance to look at him properly, she can’t help but notice a few things about Tanjirou that she hadn’t previously. In the time they’ve been apart, Tanjirou has grown quite a bit. Stronger, definitely — he fills out the demon slayer uniform a little more nicely, and he’s lost some of the baby fat around his cheeks. His jawline is a bit more pronounced, his shoulders broader. And his hair has grown a bit longer than what she’s used to, chestnut brown tips curling just beneath his ears.

It’s a good look on him. Hayami quite likes it, she thinks.

Tanjirou’s cheeks warm slightly under her gaze. “Wha—” he clears his throat, reaching up to push his bangs out of his eyes. Oh, wow. “What is it? Is there something on my face?” he continues, sounding completely unaware of the existential crisis that he’s just caused poor Hayami.

“Ah, yeah. You have a bit of sweet sauce from the mitarashi dango here…” She reaches out and brushes a stray spot at the corner of Tanjirou’s mouth. His skin is warm under her fingertips. “There, got it.”

“Thank you. I didn’t even notice.” Tanjirou scratches his cheek awkwardly as he smiles at her. It’s a terribly endearing look on him.

“Your hair has gotten a little long,” she comments in an attempt to distract herself.

“Has it?” He reaches behind his head to tug at the longer strands at the back, gaze shifting as he tries to gauge the length of his own hair. His eyes end up crossing and he sighs, letting the dark strands slip from his fingers with a defeated smile. “It’s been a while since I’ve had the opportunity to get a haircut, to be honest. Perhaps I can look for a barber tomorrow…”

“I could,” Hayami interrupts, before she knows what she’s saying. What she had meant to say was that Aoi could trim his hair, but she suddenly feels the urge to try it herself. “I could help you trim your hair, I mean.” A sheepish laugh escapes her. “If you’re willing to take the risk, that is.”

Tanjirou looks at her, surprised, before he smiles. His eyes reflect the gentle glow of the street lamp overhead as he meets her gaze. Hayami’s mouth goes a little bit dry. “I’d appreciate that.”

“Then, tomorrow—”

“Caw, caw! Caw!”

Both Hayami and Tanjirou look up at the same time to see a familiar jet black crow circling above their heads. “It seems that Aiya has returned,” Hayami comments, extending her arm so that her crow can perch comfortably on it. Tanjirou coos over her, coaxing her into standing still with a small piece of dango while Hayami focuses on removing the tiny container strapped to Aiya’s leg.

As usual, there’s a tiny slip of paper rolled up and squeezed carefully inside. Hayami extracts it carefully, unfurling it to read its contents aloud.

“Demon sightings… oddly secretive… prevented entry… Warabi Village…” Hayami hums, her eyes scanning quickly over the short message. What concerns her is the paper, stamped with the Ubuyashiki house crest rather than the usual wisteria kamon — this must have been a letter personally written by the Master himself.

Whatever it is that is happening here, Oyakata-sama must have found it concerning enough to reach out to Hayami directly. And with good reason, it seems.

Hayami understands why. Warabi Village… just seeing those familiar words again had made her stomach churn uncomfortably and her fingers itch for her sword. She flexes them instead and resists the urge.

“Hayami?” Tanjirou says. “Is something wrong?” He’s watching her with a frown on his face. There’s an inquisitive little dip forming between his brows, and Hayami wants to rub it away with her thumb. Instead, she simply shakes her head and hands him the message.

His frown deepens when he reaches the end of the message. “This must be a serious situation if Oyakata-sama is contacting you directly.”

“The Warabi Village is where I grew up, ever since I was a child,” Hayami explains as Tanjirou hands the message back to her. The paper feels weighty in the palm of her hand. “The secretive estate mentioned in the letter… it is most likely the Sumiyuri Estate.”

And if anyone were to be aiding the demons, Hayami adds on in her mind darkly, it would most definitely be her family.

“But for humans to be cooperating with demons… that seems impossible.” Tanjirou shakes his head, openly frowning. It seems as though he is genuinely bewildered by such a prospect. “Maybe this is similar to the situation that occurred with Lower Moon One, and the humans are being used by the demons for some sort of purpose...”

“Or, they might be the ones harbouring the demon,” Hayami tells him as the two of them start walking once more, to make their way back to the estate. It’s a pity that their night together had to end on such a sombre note. Aiya caws once, taking flight once more and disappearing into the night sky. “That’s what Oyakata-sama thinks, at least.”

“But it doesn’t…” Tanjirou struggles to piece together his thoughts before giving up with a sigh. “I just don’t see how anyone could bear serving a demon.”

“My family would, for one.” Hayami says, and Tanjirou whips around to look at her so quickly she almost worries that he might get whiplash. She can see the hesitation to believe her words in his eyes — and even though it sends a twinge of annoyance through her, she understands why. Tanjirou has always been determined to see the best in others, and while that is a trait that she deeply admires in him, the truth is unfortunately much uglier than either of them would like. “If it would benefit them in any way, it’s likely — no, definitely true — that any Sumiyuri would accept such an offer. That’s the sort of people that make up my clan.”

Tanjirou’s expression twists uncomfortably — caught between his kind nature and his desire to believe her. “But they are humans… all humans must have some sort of humanity.”

“No,” Hayami answers shortly. “Not all of them.”

The walk back to the Butterfly Estate is one shrouded in silence, an uncomfortable tension thick in the air between the two of them. Hayami can tell that she’s letting her bad mood seep into the air — and Tnajirou can probably smell it coming off her in waves, with how sensitive his nose is. Still, as apologetic as she is for that, her mind is occupied with more pressing matters at the moment.

Matters such as this mission.

Hayami doesn’t want to accept it. In fact, she doesn’t want to step foot within a ten mile radius of Warabi Village ever again, let alone enter into that hellhole of an estate once more — a pit of nightmarish memories she would much rather stay dead and buried forever. But Oyakata-sama has personally called on her, and as a newly appointed hashira, it is her responsibility to eradicate the demon.

Moreover, she understands why Oyakata-sama needs her to go. The Sumiyuri Estate’s security is second to none, and to make another demon slayer risk life and limb to investigate would weigh on her conscience.

Still, her memories of the Sumiyuri Estate cling to the edges of her mind like shadows that refuse to fall away. If she could have a choice…

But there isn’t much of a choice, is there?

The two of them disperse to their rooms for the night upon reaching the Butterfly Estate with a muttered ‘goodnight’. In her futon, Hayami tosses and turns for hours before she finally falls asleep.

>>>>

The next morning, Hayami is packing her bags in preparation to leave when there is a light rap at the door. Frowning, Hayami sets aside her packing for a moment to answer it.

To her surprise, it’s not Aoi or Kanao or even Shinobu, but Tanjirou standing at the other side of the door… with his sword at his side and Nezuko’s box strapped to his back. He beams at her like a ray of sunshine when he sees her -- far too enthusiastic compared to the awkward tone that they had parted with last night. Hayami feels like she’s being eviscerated by the sun. “Good morning, Hayami!”

Hayami would like nothing more than to crawl under a blanket and rot away there, but she nods slowly. “Good morning to you too. Are you, uhh,” she gestures at him, “going somewhere?”

He nods brightly. “Of course. I’m going with you to Warabi Village.”

She must have heard him wrong. “Warabi Village?” she repeats after him, trying not to sound too incredulous. “Did Oyakata-sama also order you to take part in this mission?”

“No.” Tanjirou shakes his head, which only makes his determination seem even more baffling. “I decided that I am coming with you.”

Hayami blinks at him, unsure if she’s heard him right. Tanjirou is coming with her to Warabi Village. Why?

“Hagazenuka-san likely won’t be done with the other sword he’s fixing for another week or so. The Butterfly Estate is nice, but I’ve been wanting to stretch my legs for a bit now. I thought I could accompany you ”

“But your sword is broken.”

“Not broken, chipped,” Tanjirou reminds her, drawing his blade to show her the small notch along the edge before sheathing it once more. “Besides, the demon can’t be very strong if it’s still relying on humans. I can handle myself just fine with a chipped sword.”

The danger isn’t the demons, but the people living within that compound. It’s not that Tanjirou is weak either — while he had been assisted by Rengoku-san, Zenitsu and Inosuke, Tanjirou has still managed to cut through the neck bone of Upper Moon One with his own strength.

“But…”

Tanjirou’s expression softens. “Unless, it’s a bother to you, Hayami?”

Tanjirou is not a bother to her, and Hayami would never intentionally make him feel like one. Besides, both of them are aware that this is not the true reason Tanjirou wants to come along. With the mere thought of the mission hanging over her like a dark rain cloud, Tanjirou probably does not even need his sense of smell to know just how unsettled she is.

Hayami sighs sharply, turning away to tug at the end of her ponytail. “The Sumiyuri clan is dangerous, Tanjirou. I can’t in good conscience allow you to go there — the risk of you getting hurt or being harmed is too high.”

“And I can’t in good conscience let you go alone either, knowing what it means for you.” The two of them stare down each other for a while, neither willing to yield first. Tanjirou is easygoing most of the time, but in situations like this… perhaps Tanjirou should have mastered Stone Breathing like Himejima with how stubborn he is.

Finally, she relents. “Fine,” she tells him, dropping her ponytail from her fingers. His eyes light up at her words, but she is quick to clarify herself. “However, when we are in the Sumiyuri Estate, I need you to defer to my decisions and my judgement.”

Tanjirou’s brows begin to furrow, and she steps forward to press a finger to his lips before he can speak. “I am aware that you are a very kind person, Tanjirou. I admire that about you.” Tanjirou blinks rapidly. His next exhale is a beat late, warmth whispering against her fingertip. “But in the Sumiyuri Estate, cruelty, not kindness, is the local language. Do you understand what I’m trying to say?”

Slowly, Tanjirou nods, and Hayami takes a step back, her hand falling back to her side. “Good,” she says — when had her heart started beating so quickly? “Then, let’s sit down for a bit. If you are to come with me, we will need to make some preparations before we leave.”

The two of them sit cross legged on the floor of Hayami’s room, facing one another. “A quick history of the Sumiyuri Clan,” Hayami begins seriously. “My… family is an old clan with a… prestigious lineage tracing back to the Emperor Go Mizuno-o. Despite the fact they can be considered nobility, their money is earned through all variety of criminal activities such as human and narcotics trafficking.”

Tanjirou’s frown deepens, but he does not interrupt her. She continues. “Vipers, scorpions, the whole clan is a den of beasts waiting for any sign of weakness. I understand that this is difficult to hear, but not a single one of them are good people. Some demons would be closer to heaven than they are.”

“Surely there must be one or two good people left…?” Tanjirou asks softly. Hayami shakes her head.

“If anyone has any power in the clan, then no, there’s not an ounce of goodness in them. All those with any goodness have either left… or are already dead.”

The two of them remain quiet for a while. Hayami shifts uncomfortably on the tatami, head lowered. She’s never really spoken about her family to anyone aside from Oyakata-sama. Her family’s history is stained with blood, and not something that she is proud of. Tanjirou is a person with a gentle heart, who cannot stand cruelty. If the way he looks at her changes… Hayami doesn’t know how she would handle it.

While she’s lost in thought, a warm hand suddenly settles onto her shoulder. Surprised, Hayami looks up to see Tanjirou’s eyes as gentle as they have always been. “I’m sorry to hear that you were raised in such an environment, Hayami,” he tells her. “I can’t begin to understand what you’ve been through, but no child should ever have had to grow up feeling unsafe.”

There’s a sudden prick of heat in her eyes, and Hayami glances down quickly to hide her expression. Fortunately, Tanjirou does not comment, remaining silent while she collects herself.

“Right.” She nods, subtly wiping her eyes and forcing her voice to steady once again. “If we do enter the Sumiyuri Estate, I will likely… clean up my clan for good. I cannot be a demon slayer while letting the clan run amok. Do you think… would you think less of me if I find it necessary to slay humans?”

Tanjirou removes his hand from her shoulder to ponder this in silence. Hayami finds herself missing the warmth of his hand. “I am conflicted,” he admits, finally. “But I have to concede that I understand your point of view. Especially if they have taken the lives of innocents…”

“Of course they have. They still do.”

Tanjirou takes a deep breath, staring down at the tatami mat between the two of them. “And if they do… What makes humans different from demons?”

Hayami’s eyes widen at his words. She hadn’t expected Tanjirou to say something like that, not when he has always had such a straightforward view on humans and demons. “Um, Tanjirou?”

“No, I was just… thinking.” He shakes his head before smiling at her once more. “No, I don’t think I would think less of you. I trust your judgement. If you believe it is necessary… then it must be.”

The thought that Tanjirou has so much faith in her… she can’t help the smile. “Thank you, Tanjirou. I promise that I’ll only kill those without humanity… and if possible, I’ll try to get them locked up instead.” She shrugs. “Death is too quick of an atonement for them, anyway.”

“Alright.” They smile at each other, before Hayami turns to the travel pack that she had been carrying earlier. “Since you’ll be coming with me, we need to get you a change of clothes.”

Tanjirou blinks at her. “Change of clothes? Why?”

“The Sumiyuri Clan would never let a demon slayer inside, especially if they are really hiding a demon inside the compound. We would be chased away even before I have the chance to identify myself.”

“Ah.” Hayami gives up on rummaging through her pack, turning to stare at Tanjirou instead. “Hmm. I’ll just have to buy one with your specifications in mind. I’ll let Shinobu-san know once we are done here.”

Tanjirou looks flustered. “That’s a lot of money, Hayami… you don’t have to spend that much on me.”

“Oh, no. It’s for the sake of the mission,” Hayami reassures him. “The members of the Sumiyuri Clan are used to living in opulence — they’ll be able to tell at a glance if your kimono is well made or not. Going there dressed in anything less than luxury would expose our ruse as lovers right away.”

“So they’ll be able to tell…” Tanjirou is nodding when his eyes widen all of a sudden. “Wait, our ruse as lovers?”

“Yes, our ruse as lovers— oh, I forgot to explain to you. Aside from servants of the household, only spouses of clan members can enter the compound. So, if you want to come with me, you’ll have to pretend to be my fiance.”

Tanjirou’s face is pink all over. “Oh. I, uhm, I didn’t know that.” He scratches at his head. “I suppose I didn’t think that far.”

Hayami can’t help the laugh that escapes her. “Having second thoughts now?”

“No, no!” Tanjirou shakes his head vigorously. “I just, I was thinking… will I really be able to pass as your fiance? I don’t know anything about your family and the happenings of high society… and we both know that I’m awful at lying in any way. What if I end up giving the both of us away?”

“All you need to do is stay silent and act very shy,” Hayami reassures him. “I’ve already come up with a cover for you — the youngest son of a rich, influential family. It’d make sense for you not to have knowledge of business dealings, so you wouldn’t need to know a thing. My father was in a similar position.”

“Your father?”

“Yes, my father. He was the one who married into the Sumiyuri family. My mother wanted a man who would be subservient and meek, so that she would be able to retain all the power as head of the clan. If you behave the same way,” Hayami shrugs, “the rest of the clan will simply think that I am following in my mother’s footsteps.”

“This all sounds rather nerve wracking…” Tanjirou lets out a defeated sigh before turning to look at Hayami. “But as I said, I trust your judgement.” He picks at his sleeves absentmindedly, cheeks turning pink once again. “Will we… have to act as lovers?”

“Act as lovers?” Hayami repeats after him, confused. Tanjirou coughs a little.

“I mean, behave intimately with one another,” he clarifies, the colour of his cheeks deepening. “Acts such as holding hands, or perhaps even… kissing…”

“No, not at all.” Hayami’s tone has turned sharp, and Tanjirou seems taken aback by how serious she has become. “Showing love or affection is seen as a weakness by the family, and is in direct violation of the family pledge. If they suspect that I value you as anything other than a means to produce heirs or to acquire legitimacy as the matriarch… they will certainly attempt to use you against me.”

Tanjirou nods slowly. “I see.” With every new thing he learns about Hayami’s family, the more he’s horrified that his good-natured friend was raised in such an unforgiving environment. To think Hayami suffered so much as a child, when she should have been surrounded by nothing but warmth and love… Still, all these things are already long past, and Tanjirou is helpless to change those things. What he can do, on the other hand, is to support Hayami on this mission and give her all the help she needs. Yes, that’s what he can do.

“Ah.” Hayami holds up a hand, as though only just remembering something. She glances awkwardly to the side, fingers twitching for her ponytail before she puts her hand down once more — a sure tell that she’s nervous. “I forgot to mention this, however. We will need to share a room and a bed. It is, umm, expected of married couples to, so…”

She trails off, leaving the two of them to stare awkwardly at the ground and stew in silence. Tanjirou cannot see the colour of his own face, but his cheeks feel warm enough to catch fire. Sharing a bed with someone… The only people he’s shared a futon with are his sister, Zenitsu, and sometimes Inosuke.

“I’ll, um, go ask Shinobu to contact a tailor right away.” Hayami gets to her feet quickly before the air can grow too thick with awkwardness. Tanjirou nods, unsure of what else to say, and watches Hayami disappear out of the sliding door.

Just what exactly did he get himself into?

The rest of the day is a whirlwind of preparations. Shinobu-san summons a tailor to the Butterfly Estate, who examines him all over with a measuring tape and dresses him in luxurious fabrics expensive enough to buy years worth of firewood. All the while, Hayami coaches him on the appropriate mannerisms and behaviours expected of him. Right after the fitting, the two of them leave for Warabi Village.

It’s also the first time that he travels in a car, dressed in the many layers of his ceremonial kimono. The car is a box of metal, and very much similar to the train that they ridden on not too long ago. Unlike it, however, the car is a lot smaller, and Hayami and Tanjirou must squeeze a little in the back as the vehicle makes its way to Warabi Village. A little overwhelmed by the new sights and smells, the hours-long journey passes by in nothing more than a blur.

They arrive at Warabi around sundown, right when the sun is about to set in the distance behind the mountains. The car drives through the village, and through the windows Tanjirou can see the people whispering among themselves and pointing at the car. Feeling slightly uncomfortable with all the attention, Tanjirou presses himself back into the seat and glances over at Hayami.

Unlike him, Hayami appears to be perfectly poised. Dressed in a pale lilac kimono embroidered with crystal snowflakes, she sits with her hands folded in her lap, her gaze affixed out of the window. Her long platinum hair is pulled back in an elaborate ponytail and held in place with an ornamental chopstick. She looks like a statue carved from ice.

Hayami had told her that her family were descended from nobility, but Tanjirou hadn’t noticed how vast the differences were between the two of them when they were demon slayers. Now, however…

The car stops in front of an estate. The Sumiyuri Estate, Tanjirou identifies at once the second he steps out of the car. The clan name is proudly etched into bronze plaque at the main entrance. And the estate itself… well, it’s so massive that Tanjirou is having trouble wrapping his head around the fact that it belongs to a single clan. It looks like the size of a small town by itself.

“Let’s go,” Hayami turns to him. Her eyes, while usually gentle and warm with friendliness, have become as cold as ice, as sharp as a blade. It’s a little unnerving to see her like this. But Hayami had already warned him prior that she would have to behave this way in front of her clan. So, nodding tentatively, he extends the crook of his elbow to her.

Hayami takes it with nary a nod of approval, and the two of them begin to approach the looming gates of the entrance. There are two guards stationed at the entrance — both armed with swords at their hips. Tanjirou’s hand itches for the familiar grip of his own katana, but it is back at the car with the rest of their luggage. It wouldn’t make sense for the youngest son of a wealthy family to be carrying a blade, after all.

The moment they get too close, the guards immediately pick up on their presence. One of them drops a hand to the sword at his hip. “This is the private property of the Sumiyuri Clan,” the other guard says, his voice even. “Please remove yourself from it.”

Before Tanjirou even has time to feel nervous, Hayami is already answering the guard. “Who dares to deny me access to my own property?” Her voice is cool and unbothered, as though the man that she is speaking to is nothing more than a mere inconvenience to her. The two guards exchange a look, clearly not expecting this response, before the other guard rests a hand on his sword as well.

“Miss, please—”

“I will not entertain this disrespect twice,” Hayami says coldly, her eyes narrowing. Her lips are pulled thin into a sneer of displeasure. “As dogs sitting at the gate, isn’t it your responsibility to recognise the master of your house?”

One of the guards takes a closer look at her, her lilac eyes, the long platinum hair, before he does a double take. “Lady Sumiyuri…” He shakes his head, clearly stunned. “Lady Sumiyuri Hayami?”

Hayami lets out a sharp huff, dripping with disdain. “It took you long enough to recognise me. Now, stop barking pointlessly and prepare the residence for my arrival.” She continues walking forward without another glance at the guards, her hand on his arm gently guiding him after her. “A few years without a legitimate head and this place falls to shambles, truly. How embarrassing for the proud Sumiyuri clan!”

The guards hurry to escort the two of them into the building. The floor is made out of dark wood, polished so vigorously Tanjirou can see his own reflection in every wood block, and the walls decorated with various pieces of art so abstract that Tanjirou cannot even begin to wrap his head around them.

All the while, Hayami simply stands by his side, unimpressed by the luxury that surrounds them. Servants from the inner annexes come out to greet them, bowing profusely. Tanjirou can see many of them peeking multiple times at her platinum hair.

“We deeply apologise for our lacking welcome, Clan Head Sumiyuri.” A middle aged lady bows low to them, her hands folded in supplication. From the way the servants crowd nervously behind her, she must be the higher ranking servant in the estate. “We received no notice that you… would be visiting the estate.”

Or that you were even alive at all, goes unsaid.

“Must I send a notice to visit my own house?” Hayami’s voice cuts through the air like an iron whip. The tension is suffocating. “Don’t make me laugh. Who is the rightful master of this clan?”

“You, Clan Head Sumiyuri.”

“Finally, a correct answer. I have half a mind to get rid of all the servants in this place, with how incompetent all of you are.” Tanjirou sees the collective shiver that runs through all of the servants present. “You,” Hayami points at a servant with her head bowed, “go prepare our rooms for the night. My fiance and I will be using the Head suite. If I find even a speck of dust on the floorboards…”

The servant shrinks back, before bowing. “As the Clan Head commands. I swear, it will be done!” With that, she hurries off down the corridor and out of sight.

“The rest of you, gather the rest of the clan members in the main hall. Gods know they’ve been leeching off this place for too long— no wonder the entire place smells rotten.” Hayami sniffs, twirling a lock of platinum hair around her finger. The servants hesitate, and Hayami’s eyes narrow again. “Don’t tell me that you can’t even accomplish such a simple task?”

The servants scatter like mice at Hayami’s command, leaving the head servant to escort the two of them to the main hall. They pass through corridor after corridor, the estate a maze of endless walkways and excessive opulence. By the time they reach what is presumably the main hall — the sliding screens are embroidered with gold thread — Tanjirou can already hear a commotion going on inside.

“... she was… alive…”

“... should have… made sure… killed her ourselves…”

“... didn’t you kill her..”

“... thought you did…”

Tanjirou has to resist looking at Hayami in alarm. How can they talk about having Hayami killed when she’s right on the other side of the screen? The servant clears her throat, before sliding open the door.

The doorway opens up into a large hall that Tanjirou follows the servant into. Instantly, he feels the weight of several piercing gazes on him. After having been a demon slayer for so long, Tanjirou is sensitive to the scent of what he now knows is bloodlust. And right now, the room is reeking with it.

His eyes scan the room quickly — twelve members of the clan appear to be in the hall as well, all of their eyes on the two of them. Most of them don’t even bother to conceal the looks of resentment on their faces.

“Good, it seems that everyone is already gathered here, so I won’t have to repeat myself.” Hayami tugs on Tanjirou’s arm lightly, and the two of them step into the hall. Hayami does not stop among them, however, and instead walks right past them to the raised dais at the far wall.

“Hey, what are you—”

Hayami steps comfortably onto the dais, before turning around to look at her relatives coolly. “I am Sumiyuri Hayami, the rightful head to the Sumiyuri Clan, am I not?” she asks, her tone so matter-of-fact it sounds nearly mocking. “Do you have a problem with me standing in my rightful spot?”

“You—”

“You, Clan Head? Don’t make me laugh.” Someone steps towards the dais, and instantly every nerve in Tanjirou’s body fires off warning signals. His hair and skin are strikingly pale, as though he has never once seen the sun, but what truly sets Tanjirou on edge are his eyes — so crimson that they remind Tanjirou of fresh blood.

“Nakamura.” The way Hayami hisses his name in response… it seems that her distaste for him is not purely an act. The man strides over to them, his steps slow and deliberate, like a snake stalking its prey.

“You’ve only just returned to the Clan, Lady Sumiyuri.” The man drawls, twirling his pipe between his fingers before exhaling smoke in their direction. Tanjirou’s nose wrinkles at the pungent smell. “Perhaps you should reconsider… the Clan has been running perfectly well without your presence for the last few years, after all. Perhaps your leadership is not necessary… or wanted.”

“What does that matter? As the rightful heir, I am here now.” Hayami shoots him down at once, her eyes narrowing. “Unless you have a problem with the traditions of our clan?”

“You might be in line for the position of head, but that’s all you have in terms of credentials, Hayami.” His voice sounds more like a threatening snarl now. “I bet you haven’t killed half the people I have. How can we approve of a clan head that faints at the sight of blood, hmm?”

Hayami scoffs, and takes a deep breath. One moment, she is standing next to Tanjirou, and in the next, she is holding an unfamiliar sword to Shou’s throat. She had moved so quickly that even Tanjirou is taken by surprise.

“Wait,” one of the other members cries out, “she took my blade!”

The blade presses against Shou’s throat, its razor sharp edge kissing his Adam's apple. Hayami tilts her head to stare up at the man. “Is this enough ‘credential’ for you, Shou?” she asks, pressing the blade forward just a little more. A thin line of red appears on Shou’s neck as the man swallows, his eyes burning with shame and fury. “Or do you need more ‘evidence’ of how easily I can kill a man?”

Shou grits his teeth. “... No,” he says at last, although Tanjirou is sure that is the last thing he wants leaving his lips. But Hayami isn’t done with him yet.

“No?” Hayami prompts, her voice deadly calm. “No, who?”

Shou looks like he’s about to throw a fit, but with a blade to his throat, he can’t afford to run his mouth. After what feels like minutes of teeth grinding, he finally manages to spit out, “No, Clan Head.”

“I’m glad you understand where I’m coming from.” Hayami pulls back, striding over to the shocked clan members and sheathing the sword back into the scabbard hanging from the hip of its owner. “Well then, since I’ve said everything that needs to be said, I’ll be retiring to my rooms for the night. My fiance and I are tired from our long journey.”

The rest of the clan members must still be in shock over what had happened earlier, because no one makes another noise of protest when Hayami steps down from the dais. Tanjirou follows along obediently, head lowered like Hayami had told him to. Before she leaves the room, however, Hayami pauses to look at Shou over her shoulder.

“And speaking of place… you should remember your own, Nakamura Shou.” Her voice is chilling. “The affairs of the main family have nothing to do with you.”

With that, she sweeps out of the room, with Tanjirou behind her.

It’s only in the safety and privacy of the Clan Head’s suite that Hayami finally lets out a long, deep exhale of exhaustion that seems to come from the depths of her soul. Before Tanjirou can say anything, Hayami strides over to the perfectly made futon — how had they managed to get all the wrinkles out of the sheets? — and faceplants straight into the blankets.

It’s a little jarring, to see two different sides of Hayami back to back. Tanjirou has always known her to be kind and protective. She enjoys braiding Nezuko’s hair and treats her with the gentle tenderness of an older sister. To know that this is the household she had grown up in… Tanjirou finds it difficult to wrap his head around that. And the way she had acted earlier…

At times like this, when Nezuko is feeling moody or under the weather, Tanjirou would pet her head to make her feel better. But he can’t do that to Hayami, so instead, he walks over and sits crossed legged next to her on the floor.

“Are you alright, Hayami?” he asks. Hayami makes a long, muffled noise into the blankets before flipping onto her back to look at Tanjirou.

“I’m alright, don’t worry about me.” She huffs out a tired laugh before shaking her head. “Acting like this… like my mother… is just exhausting. The thought of keeping up this little charade for the next few days until investigations are done makes me feel even more tired.”

“I hope that you can bear with it for a while longer,” an unfamiliar voice says. Tanjirou whirls around in surprise to see a stranger dressed all in black slipping in through the window. His hand instantly falls to his sword, but there’s nothing there.

“Don’t worry, he’s with me.” Hayami reassures him, standing up to greet the man. “Yoshi. How are the investigations going?”

“Finished.” The man steps into the room, eyeing Tanjirou carefully before he glances at Hayami. “Lady…”

“He’s with me, you can trust him,” Hayami tells the man. The man gives him another appraising look, and begins to speak.

“The demon in the Sumiyuri Compound is Sumiyuri Akame, second daughter of one of your uncles. She was turned two years ago, but the clan agreed to give her sanction if she was willing to massacre rival households for them.” Tanjirou’s stomach turns. “The clan loots the estate afterwards and takes away all the goods for ‘inspection’, but usually keeps the luxury items for themselves.”

“I see.” Hayami doesn’t look surprised by this news in the least. In fact, she looks like she knew all along. “Where is she being kept?”

“Under the main building, and she is usually escorted by Sumiyuri clan guards. I have also yet to discover where exactly she is being kept..” Yoshi looks at Hayami directly. “With your authority as head, however, I believe that you can summon the servants to bring the demon to you.” Hayami tugs at her hair for a moment, seemingly deep in thought, before she nods decisively.

“I’ll see what I can do, then. Carry on with your investigations and report to me as necessary.” Yoshi bows his head to her.

“As you wish, Lady Hayami.” With that, he disappears out of the window as quickly as he had come. Tanjirou stares after him, trying to process everything he’s just heard.

“That was—”

“Yakunin Yoshi. He’s one of the assassins under the Sumiyuri family.” Hayami tells him, as she returns to her seat on the futon. “He tried to kill me after I left the clan, at the behest of my remaining family members.”

“He tried to kill you?” Tanjirou repeats after her, horrified. Hayami nods, as though this is perfectly normal familial behaviour.

“They probably wanted to make sure I was dead so that they could instate someone else as clan head. Or put a proxy in place, perhaps — I have no interest in their intentions.” She shrugs. “But yes, Yoshi has been working with me for a while now. He updates me on the happenings of the clan, but it seems that even he isn’t privy to everything that goes on within these walls.”

Tanjirou still finds it difficult to wrap his head around the idea that Hayami could be working with someone who had once tried to kill her, and it must show on his face because Hayami laughs. “Thinking some difficult thoughts, Tanjirou?”

“No, well, yes.” He shakes his head. “Is it really… safe to work with someone who has attempted to kill you before? How did the two of you even… agree to cooperate?”

“Well,” Hayami begins to tug the pins out of her hair. “Yoshi’s situation is somewhat similar to yours, Tanjirou.” Before Tanjirou can question what she means by that, she continues to explain. “He is a talented assassin, yes, but he has a younger sister in the clan as well, called Naoko. She’s a meek but sweet child, and works as a maid in one of the side buildings. Yoshi has always worried about her living in a place like this.”

“Why don’t they leave?”

“No one leaves the Sumiyuri clan alive,” Hayami says matter-of-factly. Tanjirou suddenly feels a strange coldness come over him. Every time he thinks that Hayami’s childhood home is bad, it gets worse. “They didn’t bother me for a good amount of time because they thought I was dead. If they had caught wind that I was alive… they would have sent more than Yoshi to hunt me down.”

“So, he needs you to help her escape?”

“That is our arrangement, yes.” Hayami nods. “Although, I would probably have wanted to help her escape regardless. Naoko is a kind spirit. It is not good for a child to have to grow up here.”

Just like I did, goes unsaid. Tanjirou is suddenly overcome by an overwhelming urge to comfort Hayami, but he cannot find the words to say.

Before he can try, however, Hayami removes all the pins from her hair and smiles at Tanjirou. “Well, it’s been a long day,” she tells him. “We should get some rest and prepare for tomorrow.”

“Right.” Tanjirou still wants to say something, but the moment is gone. Next time, he promises himself.

The two of them change out of the many layers of their kimono and get ready for bed. Outside, the lamps have been extinguished, allowing the sole candle in their room to cast a gentle glow over the screens.

Hayami crawls under the blankets of the futon and beckons for Tanjirou to join her. He carefully follows suit, making sure to wrap his blanket tightly around himself. “Comfortable?”

“Mm, very.” Hayami nods, already yawning. She rolls on her side to look at Tanjirou for a moment, before she suddenly smiles at him. “Thank you for accompanying me here, Tanjirou. It comforts me knowing that you’re here to support me.”

“It’s nothing,” Tanjirou reassures her, and Hayami looks satisfied at his words. She closes her eyes, platinum blonde hair spilling over her pillow. “Well then, goodnight, Tanjirou.”

“Good night, Hayami.”

She falls asleep shortly after, her soft breathing washing over his ears. Tanjirou, instead, stares up at the dark ceiling for a long, long time. The mattress and blankets are the softest that Tanjirou has ever had the privilege of experiencing, however…

It is hard for him to fall asleep in this place.

A few days pass in the Sumiyuri Estate, and Tanjirou is slowly starting to get used to his role in it. Always walk around with his head bowed, preferably always be by Hayami’s side, and always let her do all the talking. He makes a few appearances at family meals — which are nothing like the family meals he used to have back home — before Hayami complains that the food tastes bad and gives them an excuse to retire to their rooms.

More than once, Hayami has told him, had the meals been poisoned. Tanjirou had almost panicked before Hayami had reassured him that she had a resistance to most poisons. This was not due to any special natural constitution, but because of the training her mother had made her undergo as a child.

“I find it a little amusing that my mother’s training is coming in handy now,” Hayami had remarked. Tanjirou, on the other hand, could find no humour in this knowledge.

That aside, things have been relatively peaceful at the Sumiyuri Estate — or rather, as peaceful as it can get in a compound inhabited by killers and a demon. The other clan members, after realising that Tanjirou is unwilling to say a word without Hayami present, have gradually learnt to leave him alone. That was a relief to both him and Hayami.

As far as Tanjirou knows, Hayami is still gathering intelligence from Yoshi and planning on how to take out the demon without the rest of her clan interfering. It is difficult, no doubt, but Tanjirou has confidence in Hayami.

Tanjirou is returning to the suite one day when he comes across the last person he had been expecting to see. Nakamura Shou stands outside the doors to the Clan Head’s suite, one hand shoved into the folds of his robes while he holds a smoking pipe in the other. He looks up when Tanjirou steps towards him, his mouth curling into a smirk. Had he been waiting for him this entire time?

“Fujiwara-san,” Shou remarks, stepping towards him. Tanjirou almost doesn’t register that the man is talking to him until he remembers that the Fujiwara clan is the cover that he and Hayami had agreed on. He hastily nods in response. “Nakamura-san.”

Tanjirou quickens his steps, intending on getting past Shou as quickly as possible when a firm hand clasps onto his shoulder. “Where are you running off to so quickly?” Shoc chuckles. He looks nothing like the day that Tanjirou had first met him. Instead, he now has a jovial smirk on his face that one might even consider charismatic. “Can’t I get to know my clan head’s fiance a little better?”

Fortunately for him, however, Hayami has already informed him about all the key members of her household — and even among all their dark and sordid deeds, Shou had stood out to Tanjirou the most. “Irreverence for life, unnecessarily cruel, endlessly ambitious,” was how Hayami had chosen to describe him. “He’s willing to lie and cheat and trample on others to get what he wants. Don’t be taken in by anything he says.”

“I’m not comfortable speaking without my fiancee present,” Tanjirou gives his best apologetic look before making to move past him. “I’m a little tired from today, so I’d like to get some rest—”

“You’re not suited for a place like the Sumiyuri Estate, you know?” Shou laughs behind him, and Tanjirou stiffens. “You’re like a rat scurrying among vipers. Don’t you feel embarrassed at all? It must be humiliating to be bowing and scraping to a woman like a dog.”

“I don’t mind,” Tanjirou answers, trying to figure out what he can say to end this conversation as quickly as possible without coming across as rude. He doesn’t trust himself not to slip up around this man. “Excuse me…”

“Especially when the woman in question is nothing more than a prostitute dressed in finery.”

Tanjirou’s hand clenches into a fist instinctively, and he has to take a quiet, deep breath to calm himself. “What exactly are you trying to imply about my fiancee with those words, Nakamura-san?”

“Oh, I’m not implying anything.” Shou laughs, shaking his head. He reaches up to take another long drag of sweet smelling smoke. “Didn’t you know? Her mother was training her to be a courtesan with the intention of getting her sold off to a noble family. If she hadn’t been so incompetent at seducing men, well, she would have been married off by now, hmm?” He pauses to look at Tanjirou with a thinly veiled smirk. “Not that I’m questioning your tastes, of course. Or hers, I suppose.”

Tanjirou wants to open his mouth and give the man the biggest dressing down he’s ever received, or at the very least to give him such a good headbutt he sees stars, but manages to resist the urge. Although this is not his mission, he cannot afford to slip up now.

“Think as you wish,” is all he manages to say, before he brushes past Shou. It’s only when he’s in the safety of the suite once more that he allows himself to sag onto the tatami, fully drained from that encounter.

“Hayami,” he mutters under his breath, “please come back soon.”

>>>>

A few more days pass, and it seems that the mission is progressing smoothly, at least on Hayami’s end. Tanjirou is starting to feel a little suffocated having to put on a timid face everywhere he goes outside of the suite, but Hayami has reassured him that everything will be sorted out soon. That is enough to make his mood brighten up a little.

He’s returning to the suite from the dining hall when he accidentally bumps into yet another stranger. To his relief, it is not Shou this time, but a servant dressed in a maid’s outfit. What is unfortunate, however, is that the tray of hot tea slips out of her hands as a result.

“Ah,” Tanjirou says in mild alarm when some of the tea splashes on his robes. The cup lies on the ground in a mess of wet shards.

“I am so, so sorry!” The maid gasps, falling to her knees straight away. From what he can see, she appears to be rather young — around Nezuko’s age, if he had to take a guess. Tanjirou is shocked by the fact that she’s trembling in fear. “Please, I didn’t mean to do it! I’m sorry for being so careless.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Tanjirou says instantly, before hesitating — perhaps he wasn’t supposed to say that, but the poor girl is practically shaking. “Do you think you can stand?”

She wobbles to her feet, nearly falling once, but Tanjirou catches her before reaching down to pick up the shards. The girl gasps, immediately crouching down beside him. “Please don’t! I can do this myself, you don’t need to trouble yourself—”

“I’m fine with this as well,” Tanjirou reassures her, continuing to pick up the shards. When all of the pieces are sitting in the palm of his hand, he offers them to her. “Here you go.”

“T-thank you…” The girl’s voice trembles a little more as she takes them. “You are… um… very kind.”

Tanjirou smiles at her. “I have a younger sister who has the tendency to be a little careless as well,” he tells her. “What’s your name?”

“My name is… Naoko.” The maid’s eyes widen, before she looks down, blushing shyly. “I… I have an older brother too.”

“Oh?”

“He’s very quiet, but very kind to me.” The maid nods, carefully pocketing the shards into her pocket. At least it’s good that she’s not trembling any longer. “But I haven’t seen him for a while…”

“He’ll definitely be back for you,” Tanjirou reassures her, and she’s beginning to nod when a familiar voice interrupts them.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?”

Tanjirou turns around to see Hayami striding up to the two of them, her expression cold and her eyes sharp. “Oh,” he frowns, a little confused by why she looks upset. Perhaps something went wrong during the meeting earlier? “I ran into the maid on accident earlier, so I was helping her pic up the shards—”

Hayami turns to the young maid. “Go,” she snaps, and the young maid lets out a little squeak, bowing her head low before scurrying off.

Tanjirou whirls around to look at Hayami, aghast. “What was that for? You didn’t have to be so short with her.”

“Haven’t I warned you about speaking to others when I’m not around?”

“Yes, but she’s not one of your family members,” Tanjirou argues back, suddenly feeling wronged. The maid that he’d met had been a good-natured person, Tanjirou is sure of that. “What’s wrong with speaking to her?”

“There’s nothing wrong—” Hayami gives up with a frustrated sigh, grabbing him by the sleeve before tugging him after her. “Let’s talk about this in the suite.”

The two of them make their way back to the clan head’s suite, where Hayami rounds on himthe second the screen slides shut behind them. “Look, Tanjirou,” she starts, her voice sharp and tight with stress, “you should have just brushed her off. The usual practice for a Sumiyuri would be to punish them severely — the fact that you acted differently will raise suspicions if the others catch wind of it!”

“There was no one around,” Tanjirou insists. Why is she so adamant on this? “She was shaking like a leaf — I couldn’t possibly leave her with the thought that she was going to be punished.”

“You could have endangered both yourself and Naoko!” Hayami retorts heatedly. “I told you before—” she cuts herself off in the middle of her sentence to stride over to a wall at the opposite side of the room, arms crossed over her chest. At first, Tanjirou is upset, but realises that she is trying to calm herself down before resuming the conversation.

Sighing, he sits on the futon and tries to calm himself as well. It’s not as though he really believes that Hayami doesn’t want to treat the young maid so callously. But was it really necessary when the maid looked so terrified?

The two of them stew in uncomfortable, awkward silence for a while. Tanjirou is about to get up to ask if Hayami is still upset when she turns around all of a sudden and walks back over to him, looking more calm now. Their eyes meet, and both of them glance away simultaneously.

“I… apologise for that,” Hayami finally says, looking slightly embarrassed. “I was out of turn earlier.”

“No, so was I.”

“No, I was…” The two of them look at each other again before laughter escapes. “This is so silly,” Hayami shakes her head, smiling. “It seems that the two of us are really ill-suited for this place.”

Tanjirou nods in agreement. Hayami sits opposite him, her expression contemplative for a moment, before she speaks. “Kindness is weakness, here in the Sumiyuri Estate. Being kind here… the rest of the clan members would see you as an easy target if they were to know of what you did today. Naoko is a maid who can be trusted, but many of the household servants are in my relatives’ pockets.” She reaches out to squeeze his hand tightly. “So even if I know it is against your nature… please try to refrain from being nice for now. For your own safety.”

When Hayami asks him this so determinedly, Tanjirou finds it difficult to refuse. “Alright,” he concedes. “I understand your point. I should follow your lead since this is your mission — I’m sorry about that. I’ve just been a bit tense, staying here for so long.” Hayami brightens up at his words.

“Oh! I have a piece of good news for you.” Hayami’s sudden excitement takes Tanjirou by surprise. “My investigations are complete, and I’ll be moving to eliminate the demon tomorrow. If everything goes well, we should be able to leave this place soon.”

“Really? That’s great to hear.” Tanjirou feels a sense of relief and pride wash over him. Of course Hayami could do it. Well, it’s not that he was doubting her in the first place as well. “You’ve done great, Hayami.”

She smiles at him. “Thank you. I have no doubt that you’re itching to get out of this place, and so am I.” She shuffles a little closer to him, and Tanjirou leans in to hear what she has to say. “Tomorrow, the compound will probably be thrown into some chaos because of my plans. I’d like you to stay in the suite while everything happens.”

Tanjirou frowns, but Hayami interrupts him before he can say another word. “Things might turn bloody, and I know that you would prefer not to see it,” she tells him gently. “I swear, I can handle myself.” She nudges his shoulder playfully. “Come on, trust me.”

“You know I do,” Tanjirou answers immediately, and Hayami’s smile brightens. “I was just worried about you.” He lets out a slow sigh. “If that is what you want, then I won’t interfere. But let me know if you need any help, alright?”

“Thank you, Tanjirou.”

The next evening, Tanjirou is about to turn in for the night by the sounds of cries and shouting.

He jerks upright in the futon. His body is tense and ready to react to the potential threat, but his mind needs a moment to catch up. Just what is happening?.

Alarm rushes through him, which is only exacerbated when the shouting outside intensifies. What if something has happened to Hayami? What if her ploy to slay the demon was discovered by her relatives?

Tanjirou races to grab his outer robe and shoves his arms through the sleeves, before rushing out of the room. He races straight towards the source of the noise, his lungs burning from the sudden exertion. Please, please don’t let anything have happened to Hayami—

“— and hence, I declare the two of you charged with treason!”

His gut instinct had been right — Hayami is indeed in the courtyard, surrounded by the rest of her kin. There are a small group of maids in the corner of the courtyard, faces pale and their heads bowed. There are two people kneeling at her feet, two people who are starting to seem more familiar with each passing second…

Yoshi and Naoko.

Tanjirou edges closer to see the commotion more clearly. Who is being charged with treason? Is this part of Hayami’s plan to lure the demon out of hiding? What is going on?

That question is soon answered when Hayami starts to speak once again. “Yakunin Yoshi and Yakunin Naoko,” the young girl kneeling in the gravel clings on to her brother, crying inconsolably. Her face is stained with tears. “Both of you have been found to be double-crossing the Sumiyuri family, and selling internal secrets to rival clans for profit. These charges are punishable by death. What do you have to say to that?”

“We did not do any of it!” Yoshi snarls at Hayami, cradling his sister protectively to his chest. “How can you just accuse the two of us like that? Investigate the claims! Show me the evidence!”

“Are you telling me that I need to present you with evidence?” Hayami scoffs, scorn dripping from every word. “I am the clan head. I have ways of obtaining my information, but I owe you nothing.”

“We haven’t…” Naoko sniffles pitifully, and Tanjirou’s heart clenches as though there is a fist tightening around it. “We haven’t done anything wrong! Why are you…” She breaks down into tears, unable to get another word out through her sobs and hiccups.

Hayami, however, is unmoved — as though her heart is made of stone. She gestures for a servant, and he comes forward bearing a sword which she takes from him. It’s not her nichirin sword, Tanjirou somehow notices amidst the chaos. Hayami gives the blade a cursory glance, testing the edge with the tip of her finger, before turning back to the pair of siblings.

“As the new clan head, I will set an example to all of my family right here, right now,” Hayami declares out loud. Her strong voice carries her words clearly over to Tanjirou. “Both of you shall be executed for treason today!”

Tanjirou feels as though his feet are rooted to the ground. What is happening? How can Hayami be accusing Yoshi of treason? He clearly saw the two of them working together, with the man providing Hayami with information about the demon. Hayami had even said that she wanted to save both him and his sister from this place — has she somehow forgotten all of that?

This is completely different, compared to slaying demons. When he has an encounter with one of the monsters who have spent years killing humans and eating their flesh, his sword is straight and unwavering — there is no hesitation in his strikes. He has witnessed bloodshed, death and loss. But to see someone who he trusts — or thought he trusted — hold a sword to an innocent person’s throat, that is something different altogether.

No, no. This has to be part of Hayami’s plan. Something will happen that will save the two of them, and…

Hayami swings her sword with two quick slashes, and red spurts from the two siblings. Naoko crumples, followed by her brother, blood seeping into the bone white gravel around them. The thick, heavy tang of iron hangs in the air, and Tanjirou feels as though he cannot breathe.

For a moment, all is silent.

It is broken by the sound of slow clapping, and Tanjirou looks up to see Shou applauding slowly. There’s a dangerous look in his eyes. “It seems that you have more guts than I thought you were capable of, Lady Hayami.” He glances at the two bodies lying in the courtyard. “Although, lady would be a bit of a stretch now, wouldn’t it?”

“You,” Hayami says shortly, returning her blade to the servant, “will address me as Clan Head, so whether I am being called lady or not is of no consequence to me.” Before Shou can make another pithy remark, she turns to the servants. “The two of them are not yet dead, and death by the sword is too merciful of a punishment for them. Fetch me the thing in the basement. I’ll have it deal with what’s left of them.”

One of Hayami’s relatives makes an audible gasp of shock. “You knew…?” Hayami laughs, the sound high and cruel.

“Did you take me for a fool, uncle?” she retorts coolly, and the servants scurry off to obey her bidding. “I will make the beast submit to me personally today, so that it will be chained to the will of our clan. As for the rest of you,” she dismisses them with a flick of her wrist, “get out of here.”

The servants usher the rest of the family members out of the courtyard, and as Tanjirou allows himself to be led out with the rest of them, he overhears the other members of the clan speaking of Hayami’s impressive display of ruthlessness and steel. “This will surely spell a great decade of prosperity for us, if she doesn’t die in the courtyard with that demon, at least,” one man chuckles to his partner.

“Those two traitors deserve a death far more terrible, in my opinion,” another one pipes up.

Naoko’s shy smile burns in Tanjirou’s mind, juxtaposed over the image of her cheeks stained with tears and her lips splattered with blood.

Tanjirou wants to throw up.

Hayami stands in the courtyard alone, glancing down at the two wounded people lying on the ground in front of her. Just a while more, she promises. It’ll all be over soon.

“Clan Head, we have brought the demon.”

She turns around to see a pair of Sumiyuri clan guards pulling something along with them — a demon, with a thick metal collar around its neck. She — no, it —growls and snarls at her, saliva dripping from its jaws. So this is the demon that her family has been harbouring all this time.

Its skin is bone white, the colour of ash, and there are a pair of feline ears perched on its head. Orange-yellow eyes glow at her like a pair of burning lamps in the darkness of the night. Hayami recognises the look in her eyes, a hungry, desperate gaze that devours everything in its path.

Red lines decorate its face, reminding Hayami of a tiger on the prowl for prey. Upon seeing her, the demon snarls and tries to lunge, but the guards force it back with their metal chains and burning torches.

“Very well.” Hayami gestures to the guard, and he secures the end of the chain to a large nail driver into the ground before backing away hurriedly. “Leave us.”

The two guards scramble out of the courtyard as quickly as possible, leaving Hayami alone in the courtyard with the demon. Behind them, the doors to the courtyard swing shut. Hayami waits until she hears a heavy thump — the sound of the door being held shut by a bronze bar, before turning back to the demon.

“So, you’re the one who all the fuss has been about,” Hayami comments mildly, as she takes a step closer to the demon. It tries to lunge forward, but the metal chain around its neck prevents it from getting too near. Hayami stares at it for a while, wondering if she remembers any of her relatives with the name Akame… and finds herself empty handed.

Well, even if she had remembered, Hayami doesn’t have any love for her family in the least. The most she can give the demon now is a quick and merciful death.

Turning around, Hayami makes her way to where she’d stashed her nichirin sword behind a large rock in the courtyard. The demon seems to recognise the nichirin steel instinctively, because it begins to howl and scrape at the metal holding it in place. A pitiful sight, really, but Hayami does not waver in the least.

“I hope that you’re reborn into a better life,” Hayami says, before she cuts down with a quick slash of her sword. The edge of her blade cuts through the demon’s neck like butter.

The demon screams and falls to the ground with a heavy thump. Hayami doesn’t have to look over her shoulder to know that her blade has severed its head cleanly from its neck. Instead, she rushes over to where Yoshi is lying prone and the ground and begins to shake him vigorously.

“It’s over,” she says sharply, and Yoshi’s eyes immediately fly open. “The demon has been killed. We must move quickly — there is no time to waste.”

Yoshi springs to his feet, rushing over to the trees where the spare demon slayer uniform they had prepared is hidden. Naoko takes a moment longer to rise, her feet trembling a little as she wipes the tears from her eyes. “Did I do well, Hayami-sama?”

Hayami smiles at her warmly — she had wanted to do that, ever since that incident she had been forced to be harsh with her. Yoshi had chosen not to tell her anything until the last moment, fearing that his sister would not be able to keep such a big secret. He and Hayami are somewhat similar in that respect, Hayami thinks to herself ruefully. “You did beautifully, Naoko,” Hayami says reassuringly, reaching up to pat the top of the young girl’s head. Her face flushes slightly despite the tears. “Now go, and don’t look back. Be safe, alright?”

“Yes, Hayami-sama!” With that, Naoko casts one more fleeting look at her brother before fleeing in the direction of the side gate. With all the guards removed from their posts (she had summoned them into the courtyard earlier to bear witness to the execution), Naoko should be able to escape without hindrance.

“Is she gone?” Hayami turns around to see Yoshi striding up to her, doing up the final buttons on his uniform. The black demon slayer’s uniform looks good on him, Hayami thinks, and she hands him a blond wig. When he’s put it on, even Hayami nearly doesn’t recognise him. She’s almost impressed by her own work.

“Here,” she holds out her nichirin sword to him. “You know what to do?”

“Of course.” Yoshi takes it with a firm nod.

“You look as though you would make a good demon slayer,” Hayami jibes in an attempt to lighten the mood. Yoshi looks at her seriously. “If Naoko and I make it out of here successfully, I’ll consider it.”

“Oh?” Hayami is both surprised and a little amused. “I look forward to seeing you joining our ranks soon, then.”

“Alright, enough jokes,” Yoshi glances at the side gate before he returns his gaze to the closed doors of the courtyard. He’s definitely worried about his sister. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

Hayami nods and waits until he’s suitably near the treeline, before she takes a slow, deep breath…

… and lets out a piercing scream.

“Guards!” She yells, trying to sound as furious as possible. “Guards, what are you doing? Get here, now!”

A few minutes later, the Sumiyuri clan guards hurriedly rush into the courtyard just in time to see the remains of Akame fading to ash and Yoshi scrambling over the wall of the courtyard. They’re followed by a few clan members and… Tanjirou? Didn’t she ask him to stay in the suite regardless of the circumstances? Hayami’s heart drops when she sees him, but she cannot afford to drop the act now.

Instead, she turns to the guards, baring her teeth. “You incompetent fools!” Hayami shrieks, getting up in their faces. “How could you allow a demon slayer to infiltrate your ranks? He’s gone and done it! How are all of you going to take responsibility for this?”

One guard is brave (or foolhardy) enough to speak up, voice shaking. “Done… what?” Hayami rolls her eyes to high heaven, but she is secretly glad that the guard asked. It makes it much easier to explain the situation.

“Do I have to spell it out for you?” she snarls, rounding on the guard. The man shrinks back before her. “A demon slayer infiltrated the guards and killed our newest source of income! He saw everything — how the demon ate those two servants before he slayed it! Why did you let him get away?”

“Clan Head, we couldn’t possibly—” Hayami cuts off his words with a firm slap and the guard reels back in shock, one hand clasped to his reddening cheek.

“You dare to give me excuses?” Hayami snaps, raising her voice. “If he reports back to his superiors, those bothersome demon slayers definitely will not give up on searching our estate until they find evidence of us harbouring a demon. Think of all the trouble that will bring us!” With that, she turns and storms off in the direction of the main building. The guards, all too terrified to chase after her, allow her to leave without any issue.

She makes a beeline straight towards the clan head’s suite, and only when she is inside does she allow herself to slump against the wall, completely exhausted. Playing all her family members is one thing, but to keep up that facade in front of so many people, Tanjirou included, was exhausting…

Tanjirou!

Hayami has barely had time to panic when the door to the clan head’s suite slides open once more to reveal Tanjirou standing behind them. He eyes Hayami as he walks in, and Hayami instantly knows that she needs to fix this right away. Tanjirou looks furious — it’s the same expression he makes when coming face to face with a particularly sadistic demon, or when he’s enraged with good reason. Hayami has never seen this look directed at her before, and it makes her stomach churn uncomfortably.

Tanjirou slides the door shut behind him, and takes a deep breath before staring at Hayami. “Tell me,” his voice is painfully even. “You promised— you promised me that you would only kill humans with no humanity. How could you get Yoshi and Naoko killed just to lure the demon out?”

Hayami holds up both hands. “Tanjirou,” she says slowly, trying to keep her tone calm. “Please, calm down. I can explain everything.” To be honest, this side of Tanjirou is scaring her a little, even though she knows that he would never try to hurt her in a million years.

Tanjirou stares at her for a while before he exhales sharply. “I don’t know if I can trust that,” he mutters under his breath, but the sentence hurts Hayami all the same. The two of them have been friends for so long — does he really think that she would do such a thing?

“I didn’t kill Yoshi and Naoko,” Hayami begins to explain. “What I did was—”

The knock outside the window startles the both of them, but Hayami immediately lets out a sigh of relief when she realises who it is. “Come in.”

Yoshi slips into the room like a shadow a few seconds later, taking a moment to brush the leaves from his clothes — he’s still wearing the demon slayer uniform that he’d escaped in, but the wig is gone. “Lady Hayami,” he greets her bluntly.

Tanjirou gasps at the sight of a dead — well, supposedly dead — man walking. “What—”

Yoshi holds out Hayami’s nichirin blade to her. “Take it.” He glances at Tanjirou, seems to realise what had been going down before he had come in, and looks at Hayami. “Was I interrupting something?”

Hayami takes her sword from him. “No, no.” Yoshi gives her a longer stare, before he shrugs. “As you say. I have found the provisions in the forest, and will be leaving soon with my sister.” He hesitates for a moment before he speaks once more, this time bowing his head to Hayami. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for my sister and I, Lady Hayami.”

“It was no problem at all,” Hayami reassures him gently as he makes his way back to the window. “Make sure to take care of your sister well, alright?”

“That goes without saying.” Yoshi pauses with one foot on the window to bow his head once more. “I wish you all the best, Lady Hayami.”

“You as well.”

With that, Yoshi disappears out of the window. Hayami stares after him for a while before turning back to Tanjirou, who looks unsurprisingly confused. “What… how is he alive?” Tanjirou asks, stepping closer to the window as well. “Is Naoko alright as well?”

“Yes, she is. If everything goes well, she and Yoshi should escape the town by tomorrow and the Sumiyuri family will never find them again.” Hayami nods. “I learnt that the demon is only summoned by the clan to slaughter rival clans or to finish off misbehaving servants — feeding her more will make her stronger, after all, and there’s nothing that the clan wants more than power. So we came up with this plan to lure her out.”

Tanjirou rubs his head. Things are starting to fall together, piece by piece, but there are still parts that do not make sense just yet. “The blood that I saw…”

“Sheep’s blood. I had bags of them prepared, and both Naoko and Yoshi had them strapped to their chests before the entire incident occurred. We had to make sure the slash looked real.” Hayami glances out of the window. “If the two of them want to escape the Sumiyuri estate, then there must be enough reason for the clan to believe that they are dead. As an assassin on the Sumiyuri clan’s payroll, he knows too many secrets to be left alive.”

“So you decided to do all that…” Tanjirou says slowly, “to kill two birds with one stone?”

Hayami nods. The two of them sit there for a long moment in silence, as Tanjirou tries to process everything that Hayami has just told him. Truly, her acting had been so convincing that even Tanjirou had felt himself doubting whether he had truly known her at all. But he supposes… well, he supposes that he should have chosen to trust her.

“I…” Tanjirou takes a deep breath. “I am sorry. For rushing to conclusions, and not giving you a chance to explain. I’m sorry.”

Hayami shakes her head. “The fault was mine too,” she admits ruefully. “I could have— I should have told you. You’re on this mission with me, after all.”

Tanjirou hesitates. “Why didn’t you?”

“After that fight about Naoko, I didn’t want you to see me acting like that again in front of the entire clan,” Hayami explains. Her fingers fiddle nervously with the ends of her hair. It’s hard to be so vulnerable like this, especially after such an emotionally charged day. But it’s Tanjirou, and if she cannot be honest with him, then who else? “I told you to stay in the room and I didn’t think that you would leave, so I thought I wouldn’t have to explain a thing.”

They stay silent for a while after that, each taking some time to process through everything properly. In the end, it’s Tanjirou who breaks the silence. “I think it’s just… sad. And upsetting.” His eyes are downcast. “That you had to grow up in such a terrible place. The thought that you had to endure all of this for so many years…”

He trails off, but Hayami understands, even without the words. And the fact that he feels so deeply for her, even though he’s never had to experience it himself… well, that makes Hayami’s heart feel very soft and warm on the inside.

She reaches out to squeeze his shoulder lightly. “Honestly, I don’t think that I suffered very much. Of course, I’m probably only saying that because it’s over.” A light laugh escapes her. “But I’m used to it, and it has made me stronger. And if it means I can save more innocent lives because of it…” Hayami smiles at Tanjirou. “Then I feel as though all that pain I endured wasn’t without reason.”

Only those who have gone through great adversity can grow truly strong, and the same is reflected by most, if not all of the Pillars in the demon slayer corps.

Tanjirou looks at her for a while longer, before he suddenly shakes his head and laughs. “You know, you’re really cool, Hayami.” She blinks at him, caught off guard by the sudden praise.

“Ah?”

“I mean, the fact that you can still have such a positive outlook on everything you’ve been through, I think it’s quite amazing.” Tanjirou tells her. Her cheeks turn warm and she glances away for a moment, unsure. What is going on with her, really?

“Well, since we’ve finished what we came here to do, shall we go now?” she suggests, in an attempt to cover up the colour on her cheeks. Tanjirou’s eyes widen.

“We can leave? Just like that?” he asks, looking hilariously (and adorably) confused. “Aren’t you the head of the clan now?

Hayami beams, nodding. “Yeah, of course! I’ll just have anyone who opposes that killed.” At that, Tanjirou’s face goes flat, and Hayami can’t help the laugh that escapes her.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” she winks at him. “How about we elope together?”

“Hayami…”

Hayami laughs again, and suddenly, even though she is still in the place that she has hated more than any other… things suddenly feel bright and warm once again. She glances at Tanjirou. If only she had someone like him by her side while growing up… perhaps things would have been more tolerable back then.

But he is here now, and that is enough for her to be content.

[sammywolfgirl]

You could draw Wrend with either Hummingbird Cake or Doctor Sourdough!!! Or both!!!!! Either works!! :D

The absolute mad lad managed to befriend the feral creature what the fuck