After about ten minutes of walking, the Shogun followed Tanjiro—whose nose worked like that of a dog—to the source of the scent. It led them to what looked like a secluded paradise in the forest: a small house hidden among the dense trees.
In the middle of the lush woods was an oddly open clearing, and in that clearing stood a two-story wooden house. Its walls were weathered and aged, the wood worn and discolored from years of exposure to rain and wind. It was most likely abandoned. There were no signs of human life—only an eerie chill that hung over the place like a heavy fog, reminiscent of a haunted mansion.
"We're here?" the Shogun asked, glancing at Tanjiro, who had stopped walking.
"Yes, but... this scent—" Tanjiro frowned, puzzled. The smell was different from any he had encountered before—something unusual.
Thump~
"Eh?" Zenitsu froze, unsure if what he'd just heard was real or a trick of his imagination. His body stiffened, ears perking up nervously.
"Did you guys hear something?" he whispered.
"...Hear something?" the Shogun repeated quietly, tilting her head. She fell silent, her sharp ears far more sensitive than any normal human's. If there was even the slightest sound, she would pick it up. Was the noise coming from inside the house?
"..."
She listened carefully.
After a few seconds of silence—
There was nothing. Only a faint sound... like a child's sobbing.
A child?
Her eyes narrowed slightly as she turned her gaze toward the direction of the sound. The movement drew the others' attention, and they looked as well.
"!!" ×2
There—two children huddled together under the shade of a nearby tree, a boy and a girl. They looked like siblings. Both trembled in fear, clinging to each other tightly, their faces pale.
"C-Children...? I'm really bad with kids..." Zenitsu muttered miserably.
"Hey there... you two, what are you doing in a place like this?" Tanjiro stepped forward cheerfully, trying to sound gentle and reassuring as he approached.
"Uuu!" ×2
But the siblings only grew more terrified, scooting backward on trembling legs until they collapsed to the ground. Cold sweat beaded their foreheads—they looked utterly traumatized.
"They must've been through something awful..." the Shogun thought, observing quietly.
"Hey, it's alright! We're not bad people, we—" Tanjiro tried to move closer, but the more he did, the more frightened they became.
"Eek!!" ×2
"Uh..." Tanjiro froze mid-step, awkwardly scratching his cheek. Neither moving forward nor backward seemed right.
"Sigh..."
The Shogun exhaled softly and stepped past Tanjiro. She crouched down before the two children, carefully lowering herself so her eyes met theirs—removing any sense of intimidation.
"..." ×2
Surprisingly, the children visibly relaxed when she did this. Their pale faces regained a hint of color, their breathing steadied, and the trembling in their shoulders eased. Somehow, her presence alone seemed to calm them.
Seeing that, the Shogun smiled softly and reached out to gently stroke the little girl's forehead.
"It's alright now... don't be afraid."
Her usually cold, regal voice melted into a tone of gentle warmth—an older sister's reassurance.
"///!"
The little girl blushed, her wide eyes unfocused as she basked in the soothing warmth of the Shogun's touch.
"Whoa..." ×2
Both Tanjiro and Zenitsu stared, dumbfounded. She's a natural at this! they thought.
"Can you tell me what happened here?" the Shogun asked softly.
"This place... is the monster's house," the little girl answered in a trembling voice, her words halting as if still trying to process her fear.
Over the next few minutes, she explained everything that had happened.
Aside from the two of them, there had been an older brother. Last night, while walking through the woods, their brother had been taken away by what they called a "monster." The two had followed, terrified, until they lost sight of him and ended up here. They didn't know if he was still alive. There were traces of blood along the path, and the siblings were too frightened to go any further.
"The 'monster' went inside the house?" Tanjiro asked.
"Yes," the girl's older brother replied softly.
"Following it was brave of you," the Shogun said gently, "but don't take such risks again, alright?" Her voice carried quiet concern. These two were just defenseless children—if anything had happened, the thought alone was troubling.
"O-Okay... Onee-san," the girl answered obediently.
"Good... that's a good girl."
The Shogun smiled faintly and once again patted the little girl's forehead. Her delicate fingers brushed lightly across the child's skin, and the girl instinctively closed her eyes, leaning into the touch like a content kitten.
"Don't worry. We'll definitely bring your brother back!" Tanjiro promised, clenching his fists with determination.
"Yes, he'll be rescued—but that's my job. You two, stay here and watch the children."
Her tone was calm but decisive as she closed her eyes briefly, her expression unreadable. Then, without hesitation, she rose to her feet and turned toward the house.
"O-Onee-san..."
The little girl suddenly reached out, clutching the edge of the Shogun's sleeve, her small hand trembling. She didn't want her to go—it was worry, fear, and attachment all at once.
"It's... dangerous..." the girl whispered.
The Shogun glanced down, meeting the child's teary eyes. She shook her head lightly, then crouched down again so their gazes aligned.
"It's alright... Onee-san will save your brother. You stay here with those two big brothers, okay?" Her voice was soft and fluid, like calm water, comforting and kind.
Then she reached up and gently wiped away the tears from the girl's cheeks.
"Don't cry anymore, alright? You don't want people to call you a little crybaby... do you?"
She lightly tapped the girl's nose with her fingertip, adding a small playful hum at the end, like an older sister coaxing a child to smile.
"Mm... I-I understand... I won't cry anymore..." The girl bit her lip, trying hard to hold back her tears.
"..." ×2
Behind them, both Tanjiro and Zenitsu—along with the little boy—stood frozen. Whether it was coincidence or admiration, their faces flushed slightly red. The boy even looked a bit jealous of his sister.
Miss Raiden is... way too gentle...! Tanjiro thought excitedly, admiration blazing in his eyes. He already saw her as his idol—now even more so.
"You two!"
The Shogun straightened up suddenly, her tone shifting back to its usual commanding chill. Her cold, authoritative voice snapped the two boys to attention.
"Y-Yes, ma'am!!" ×2
Both Tanjiro and Zenitsu stiffened instantly, responding in unison. Even Zenitsu, despite his fear, instinctively obeyed her tone.
"Stay outside and take care of the children."
With that, she turned toward the building's entrance.
"Miss Raiden, what about you?" Tanjiro called after her.
"I'm going to meet this 'monster.'" she replied, glancing back briefly over her shoulder.
Then, without another word, she slid open the front door.
Click!
The sound echoed sharply through the clearing as she stepped inside—disappearing into the darkness beyond.
The door remained open behind her.
After stepping through the entryway, the Shogun was greeted by a long, dimly lit corridor. Though such an environment was nothing new to her, something about it felt... off.
What was wrong?
Yes—the sense of space.
"?"
She moved toward the wall, running her fingers across it. It was solid—real. Not an illusion. Yet the space itself felt distorted. The inside seemed far larger than the small two-story house she had seen from outside.
From the outside, it looked like a simple residence. But once inside, the corridor stretched far beyond its physical limits. The structure, though made of ordinary wood and plaster, had somehow shifted into a different layout altogether.
"..."
Then she noticed something at her feet—a small, lifeless creature. A mouse.
She crouched to examine it closely. It was strange—only half a mouse remained. Its lower body was missing, and the cross-section was unnaturally smooth, as though it hadn't been cut by a blade but rather erased from existence. A conceptual dissection. The half-body lay stiff and decayed by the doorway of a nearby room, clearly dead for some time.
[Shogun... were you always that good at handling children?]
Ei's sudden voice broke the eerie silence, her question completely unrelated to their situation.
"...Why bring that up now?" The Shogun half-opened her eyes in mild annoyance.
[No reason, just curious.]
"I'm not good at it," she replied simply, standing back up and continuing forward. Along the corridor, oil lamps still burned faintly on the walls—though this place had clearly been abandoned for years. Curious.
[I thought you seemed rather skilled just now.] Ei's voice carried a hint of amusement, teasing her.
"...That was instinct. I acted on reflex." The Shogun's tone was calm but slightly defensive.
[That makes sense, I suppose.]
Ei wasn't surprised. After all, the Shogun's soul had been born from her sister's essence—Raiden Makoto's soul. Gentleness came naturally to her. Her cold, commanding demeanor, however, was all Ei's doing. A perfect balance of both sisters. Thinking of that, Ei felt oddly comforted. Her daughter had inherited both of their strengths... and, perhaps, a few flaws—stubbornness included.
"You suddenly—" & [Do you like—] ×2
Both spoke at once.
"..." ×2
Silence. They both stopped mid-sentence, realizing they had spoken simultaneously.
"You first—" & [You go ahead—] ×2
More silence.
"Ahem..." & [Ahem...] ×2
They both coughed awkwardly at the same time. The Shogun sighed quietly—there was no mistaking it now: definitely mother and daughter.
[Heh... pfft...]
Ei couldn't hold back her laughter, and the Shogun flushed faintly with embarrassment. The synchronized exchange had been too ridiculous.
[Alright... you first, dear.] Ei offered kindly, deciding to yield—because mothers always should.
"No, you go ahead," the Shogun countered, still stubbornly polite—because daughters should respect their mothers.
[Fine then...] Ei gave a small, amused sigh. [I wanted to ask... do you like children?]
"Me? Not really... it depends." The Shogun continued walking as she answered casually.
[Depends on what?]
"If it's a well-behaved girl, I don't mind. But if it's a bratty little gremlin—no thanks." She folded her arms and shrugged.
[Hehe...] Ei chuckled softly. That made sense. Otherwise, her daughter wouldn't have been the one to raise Ayaka so well. She still remembered how sweet and obedient Ayaka had been as a child—so yes, leaving her with the Shogun had always been the right choice.
Thump~!
"?" ×2
Suddenly, a sound echoed through the corridor—a deep, rhythmic thud, reverberating through the walls like a drumbeat.
"Did you hear that?" the Shogun asked, pausing.
[That sound... a taiko drum?] Ei mused. She knew that sound well—it was common in Inazuma. How curious that this world had something so similar.
"Is it coming from one of the rooms?"
Clatter...
The Shogun slid open a nearby door, revealing nothing but emptiness. The room was completely bare—no furniture, no signs of life. Just the faint smell of dust and age.
Thump~!
Another deep thump echoed through the corridor. This time, the Shogun turned around sharply.
"!"
The entryway she had come through was gone—replaced by yet another endless hallway.
[This place... something's wrong,] Ei said seriously. The shifting space felt like an illusion.
Thump~!
Another drumbeat sounded. When she turned forward again, the staircase that had been there moments ago had vanished, replaced by a narrow passageway. She glanced back once more—and the entryway had reappeared, just as it was before.
Thud!!
A heavy impact echoed from outside, followed by a wet, sickening crunch. The Shogun frowned, a bad feeling stirring in her chest.
She didn't intend to leave, though. She had already entered, and besides—
Crash!!
"Miss Raiden!"
There were still Tanjiro and the others outside.
She was just about to say that when reality proved her wrong—because at that very moment, the group burst in through the doorway.
Tanjiro and Zenitsu, looking flustered and frightened, came rushing down the corridor—with the two children clinging close behind.
"Thank goodness! You're okay!" Tanjiro said, letting out a sigh of relief.
"I told you to stay outside. Why did you come in?" The Shogun's tone was sharp, tinged with reprimand.
"It's not that—we saw someone... being spat out!" Tanjiro explained hastily.
"...Spat out?" she repeated, confused.
"No, I mean... after a few drumbeats, someone was suddenly... uh... thrown out from the second floor! I can't really explain it."
"Where is this person now?" she asked.
"He's... dead," Tanjiro said quietly, lowering his head. "His head hit the ground first. He... didn't make it." He'd shielded the children's eyes from the gruesome sight, but the sound and smell of blood still lingered in his mind.
"Then why follow me inside?" she asked again.
"We thought maybe the house itself was dangerous—and we were worried about you, Miss Raiden. I was going to come alone, but Zenitsu here was too scared to stay behind. And since he came, I couldn't leave the kids alone either. Especially with... that body out there."
"...Understood," the Shogun sighed softly, nodding. The logic was sound, even if reckless. She had expected as much.
"Um... Onee-san... I-I'm sorry," the little girl murmured apologetically.
"It's fine," the Shogun said gently, her voice softening. "Just stay behind us, and don't touch anything, alright?"
"Okay!" the girl nodded quickly, obedient as ever.
"Let's go," the Shogun said, stepping deeper into the corridor.
"O-Okay!" Tanjiro replied, hurrying after her.
"Wait for me!!" Zenitsu cried, clinging to Tanjiro's arm like a frightened child, nearly hanging off him.
Behind them, the siblings scrambled to keep up.
The Shogun sighed inwardly. Wonderful... this is going to get noisy.