Huff, huff...
The oil lamps on the wall flickered restlessly, deepening the already oppressive atmosphere.
The Shogun walked steadily at the front as if on level ground, while Tanjiro and the others followed behind cautiously. The two children clung tightly to each other's arms, too afraid to let go.
"Tanjiro... hey, Tanjiro... you'll protect me, right?! You will protect me, won't you?!"
The boy named Zenitsu Agatsuma kept clutching Tanjiro's arm and shouting nonstop. His loud voice echoed through the tense silence, making the Shogun roll her eyes in irritation.
"Uh... Zenitsu... can you maybe quiet down a bit?" Tanjiro asked awkwardly.
"No, I can't! I'm scared~~ Let's get out of here~! I don't want to stay here anymore! Not at all! If we stay, I'm going to die~~!"
Great. He was getting even louder now. Covering his head, he shook wildly and even started rolling on the floor, his voice piercingly shrill. The Shogun frowned in annoyance—now she really understood what it meant to have a truly noisy, aggravating companion.
"Make him stop talking."
She ordered coldly, her voice sharp enough to cut through the chaos. It was getting hard to even hear the sounds around them.
"Zenitsu, stop shouting! Be quiet!" Tanjiro said helplessly, gripping his companion's shoulders and shaking him.
"No, no, no! I'm going to die! I'm really going to die—!!!"
"Tanjiro."
The Shogun's voice dropped low as she called to the boy behind her.
"Yes!" Tanjiro straightened instantly.
"Cover the children's eyes."
"Eh? Ah... okay!" Tanjiro quickly obeyed, gently covering the siblings' eyes.
"Aaaaahhhh~!!! I don't want to die—!"
That was the last straw.
A sharp spark of electricity burst from her raised hand, arcing toward the noisy boy.
Bzzzt~!!
After a brief but powerful jolt of electro play, Zenitsu let out an oddly ecstatic cry.
"Ughhh~♂!!!"
He jumped up and down like a startled rabbit, body twitching uncontrollably before his entire figure smoked black from head to toe. Yet the Shogun wasn't satisfied. She calmly increased the voltage, letting him "enjoy" it a little longer.
"Uwaaaahhh~!!!!"
Thud~!
The boy collapsed to the ground, eyes rolled back, body trembling in spasms before finally losing consciousness. A wet patch spread across his crotch, from which faint steam rose—an embarrassing, indecent scene.
"Zenitsu!" Tanjiro gasped, thinking his friend was dead.
"He's not dead... just passed out," the Shogun replied casually with a shrug.
"O-oh..." Tanjiro sighed in relief.
Tap, tap...
She approached Zenitsu's limp body, grabbed him by the collar with one hand, and casually opened a nearby window.
Whoosh!
With a single swing, she tossed him outside like trash, his body tracing a perfect arc through the air.
Thud~!
A muffled crash followed a second later.
Clap, clap...
"Let's go," she said calmly, dusting off her hands as she walked past the stunned group.
"Hiss~" Tanjiro shuddered, goosebumps rising all over. He swore to never talk back again!
"?" ×2
The two children opened their eyes, confused when they noticed the blond boy was gone.
"Where's the noisy big brother?" the little girl asked the Shogun.
"He went to relieve himself. Don't worry about him," the Shogun replied nonchalantly. Technically true—he had relieved himself, just not voluntarily.
Rumble~!
The next second, the entire space began to shake violently. The ground trembled as a deep, dull buzzing echoed all around them.
Crack, crack!
The chandelier above swung wildly, dust spilling from cracks in the walls. Heavy thuds sounded from neighboring rooms, filling the air with chaos.
"W-What's happening?!" Tanjiro shouted, alarmed, instinctively shielding the children.
"..."
The Shogun frowned, scanning the surroundings with a cold, calculating gaze.
After what felt like a long minute, the shaking finally subsided, and calm returned to the space.
"Phew..." Tanjiro exhaled deeply, almost certain the house had been about to collapse.
Clatter...
The Shogun suddenly slid open the nearest door, revealing a room covered in tatami mats—spacious, sparsely furnished, and oddly empty. There was even another door within it, leading deeper inside.
Without hesitation, she stepped in, her shoes pressing lightly against the tatami.
"Miss Rai—"
Boom~!
A familiar drumbeat thundered again, cutting off Tanjiro's voice mid-call—abruptly, unnaturally, as if someone had forcibly muted him.
She turned sharply. The doorway behind her was gone—replaced by an ordinary wall.
"What... is this?" she murmured under her breath, stepping closer to touch it. Solid. No seams, no mechanisms, no hidden panels. There was no way to open it.
Boom~!
Again!
She instinctively turned around—and the tatami room she had just entered changed right before her eyes. Within the blink of a moment, it shifted into another room, this one cloaked in darkness.
Boom~!
The drum sounded once more.
The front remained unchanged... meaning—
She glanced back.
As expected—the solid wall had vanished, replaced by a dim corridor stretching endlessly into the shadows.
Bzzzt~
Violet light shimmered from her body as particles of Electro energy swirled around her, coalescing beside her into a familiar figure.
It was Ei.
"This house is strange. I think we've been caught in some kind of spatial illusion," Ei said seriously, her gaze scanning their surroundings.
"Or perhaps... spatial transference," the Shogun replied, her tone low.
"Interesting..." Ei murmured, resting her chin lightly on her hand. Her expression revealed more curiosity than concern.
"?"
The Shogun's eyes caught something on the ground behind her—a small shape lying motionless.
A mouse. Or rather, half of one.
Her eyes narrowed as she crouched down, staring blankly for a moment at the bisected corpse. It looked eerily familiar. The same fur color, the same body size—identical to the one she had seen earlier by the entryway. But this time, it was the lower half. The upper half had been what she'd found before—each with an unnaturally clean cross-section.
The position, too... matched perfectly.
Why? Why would it be here—dead again—in this same posture?
"Hmm? Did you find something?" Ei asked, noticing her daughter's sudden stillness. She crouched opposite her, following her gaze toward the half of the mouse.
"A mouse, huh? I remember seeing one earlier too... also missing half its body," Ei said softly, her tone calm and almost tender.
The Shogun didn't respond immediately. Her eyes flicked to the ground, noticing something chilling.
The mouse's body was half-shrouded in Ei's shadow.
And that shadow's edge—aligned perfectly with the bisected cut.
Her pupils dilated.
She slowly lifted her head, her gaze locking on Ei's throat. The line of the cut—the mouse's cross-section—was aligned exactly with where her mother's neck met her shoulders.
"? ...What's wrong?" Ei's gentle voice held sudden worry when she saw the color drain from the Shogun's face.
Boom~!
The drumbeat struck again.
"!"
The sound echoed like a death knell.
In that instant, her calm shattered—replaced by a surge of primal terror flooding every nerve.
Time slowed.
Without thinking, she lunged forward, wrapping her arms around Ei's neck—pulling her close and throwing both of them to the floor with desperate force!
"...?"
Ei froze for a moment. Her body didn't resist at all—helplessly pulled into her daughter's embrace, pressed beneath her weight.
At the same instant that the Shogun threw herself forward and pushed Ei down, the space behind her twisted once again with the sound of the drum. The once-deep corridor instantly morphed into a tatami room. The border of that spatial distortion aligned exactly with the bisected mouse's cross-section—perfectly, seamlessly.
Even so, she had acted a moment too late. Though Ei was unharmed, the Shogun's hair was not so lucky—her long braid, the end trailing behind her, was caught in the shifting boundary of the altered space and severed cleanly. Because the cut had fallen near the end, her once-tied braid now fell loose behind her, the severed strands scattering across the tatami and draping softly over the dead mouse—almost like a funeral offering.
"!!"
Ei's eyes widened as she realized everything in that instant—the cause and effect, the narrow margin between safety and death. A flicker of fear crossed her gaze—not for herself, but for her daughter.
Thud~!
Time resumed its natural flow.
Thud~!
A muffled sound followed—the impact of both bodies hitting the floor. But Ei's head didn't strike the ground; her daughter's arm had slipped beneath it just in time.
"Are you hurt?!"
For the first time, the Shogun's calm was gone. Her face had gone pale, hair disheveled, her usually composed features filled with sheer terror and worry. Her voice trembled as she questioned the woman in her arms.
"I'm... fine..." Ei replied softly, momentarily dazed by her daughter's expression.
"...Truly? You're sure you're alright?" The Shogun's voice quivered as she pressed her fingertips gently against Ei's neck—checking for any trace of a wound. The smooth, pale skin there was flawless, unscarred.
"I'm fine, Shogun... really, I am." Ei's tone grew tender, a mix of affection and sorrow as she saw the fear still lingering in her daughter's eyes. She placed her own hand over the Shogun's trembling one, offering quiet reassurance.
"..."
The Shogun bit her lip tightly, her eyes rimmed faintly red.
"Shogun..." Ei whispered gently, still stunned by her daughter's reaction, her own expression softening with warmth.
Huff... huff...!
Before she could say more, her daughter suddenly hugged her again—tightly, desperately—pressing her face into Ei's neck.
"!"
Ei gasped softly, half-rising only to be pushed down again, held firmly in her daughter's trembling arms.
"...Shogun?"
Ei made no attempt to resist. She allowed herself to be held—her daughter's weight pressed against her, her cheek buried at her neck. Slowly, Ei's hands came up to circle her waist, holding her gently in return.
"Ugh... I thought... you were going to..."
The Shogun's body trembled violently—perhaps from lingering fear, or perhaps from instinct. Ei could feel it, her heart breaking softly as she raised a hand to stroke her daughter's hair, her back—reassuring, soothing.
"No... I will never leave you, Shogun. Never," she murmured by her ear, voice soft as a lullaby, trying to calm the storm in her daughter's heart.
"But... y-you almost... just now...!" The Shogun's voice cracked, a choked sound between tears and protest. Her arms tightened even more, clinging to Ei as if she might vanish.
"Pfft... silly girl~ You've forgotten, haven't you? I'm only a manifested form—an embodiment created through Musou Isshin. Not a true body. Even if I had been... beheaded, I'd simply disperse into light particles and reform. It wouldn't harm me in the slightest."
Her voice was tender, the tone like water caressing the edge of a flame—gentle yet certain. She knew well that her daughter hadn't thought; she had acted—from instinct alone. And for that, Ei felt nothing but warmth.
"..."
The Shogun said nothing.
"...Shogun?" Ei called softly, concern threading her tone as she noticed no movement from the girl in her arms.
"!"
A moment later, she felt it—a drop of something warm on her neck. Then another. And another. The steady rhythm of falling tears.
Ei gently lifted her daughter's chin, but the girl refused to move—her face buried stubbornly against her neck.
"Shogun... are you crying?" she asked softly.
"...?"
The Shogun slowly raised her head, eyes hazy and confused. Her irises glimmered faintly red, and a tear slid from the corner of her eye, tracing a delicate path down her cheek.
"I... why am I..."
She blinked in confusion, brushing her fingertips against the corner of her eye, staring at the moisture glistening there in puzzlement.
"You're crying..." Ei murmured softly, gazing at her daughter in a daze.
"No, I'm not. This... this is just a visual system bug!" The Shogun quickly shook her head, flustered, trying to hide her embarrassment.
Watching her daughter sniffle quietly, Ei felt a wave of tender affection wash over her. Even if the girl tried to deny it, her actions gave her away. That shy little lie—so earnest and childlike—only made her all the more endearing.
"Don't cry... Mommy's fine..." Ei whispered gently, pulling her daughter back into her arms. She pressed the girl's head to her chest, her fingers stroking through the loose strands of hair in a soothing rhythm.
"Mommy won't ever leave you... don't cry anymore..." she murmured again and again.
It turned out... that the one who couldn't let go wasn't just her. They both needed each other equally.
She didn't know how long they stayed like that, but eventually, the trembling in her daughter's body subsided. Ei lowered her gaze and brushed away the fringe covering the Shogun's face, finding her tear tracks still faintly visible, her eyes swollen and glistening with moisture.
"(Inhale)~///"
The Shogun slowly straightened, her upper body rising as she turned her head aside in embarrassment, a faint blush spreading across her cheeks. She quickly lifted one hand to cover her tear-stained face, as if hiding it from view. Her lower body, however, still sat astride Ei's waist.
Ei's exquisite legs stretched out beneath her daughter's hips, the dark violet thigh-highs accentuating their graceful shape. Her calves tilted slightly inward, forming a gentle inward curve that made it easier for her daughter to sit comfortably.
"Pfft... done crying already?" Ei teased softly, smiling with maternal fondness.
"I wasn't crying... you're imagining things. Program bug!" the Shogun mumbled sulkily.
"You can cry a little longer, you know... while you're here with me," Ei said softly.
"I told you, I wasn't crying... Why, do you want to see me cry that much?" The Shogun huffed, wiping at the corners of her eyes—utterly contradicting her own words.
"Why not just admit it? You don't need to hide things from me—"
"If I admit it... will you throw me away like you did Orobashi?" Her voice trembled faintly as she looked away, brushing the moisture from her lashes. There was a fragile quiver in her tone, her usual composure nowhere to be found.
"..."
Ei's body stiffened at those words. Her lips pressed together, and her eyes lowered in silence. She hadn't expected her daughter to think that way... but—
It was true. She had done such a thing before. Even if she had justified it in her own mind, she had still done it. The guilt still lingered.
"...Haa."
Exhaling softly, Ei reached up and drew her daughter back into her embrace. The girl didn't resist.
"...I'm sorry. That was wrong of me," the Shogun murmured quietly, looking up at her mother with remorse.
"It's alright. It's my fault. How could I ever abandon you just for shedding tears? Don't think that way... You've already changed me, haven't you? I'm not the same Raiden Ei I once was. So... can you trust your mother, Shogun?" Ei whispered, her voice affectionate and sincere as she pressed her cheek to her daughter's.
"Mm... I've always trusted you, Ei. I just... sometimes get scared without meaning to. I'm sorry."
"I won't let you be afraid again. Never... never again," Ei murmured into her ear, as much a vow to herself as to her daughter.
She pushed herself up slightly, bracing her elbows against the floor—though since the Shogun still sat on her lap, she couldn't rise completely.
"..."
Seeing that, the Shogun shyly shifted backward a little, sliding from Ei's waist down to her thighs but still sitting on her comfortably.
Ei smiled at the motion, her eyes warm with quiet affection. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a small violet handkerchief—the matching pair to her daughter's—and held it out to her.
The Shogun glanced at it, then took it silently, turning her back as she dabbed at her eyes.
"..."
Ei watched her daughter's back in silence, her heart soft. She leaned slightly to peek, but—
"Don't look~///"
Her daughter's flustered voice stopped her immediately.
"Alright, alright~ I won't look," Ei chuckled gently, obediently sitting back. She looked every bit the doting mother humoring her child.
Her gaze softened as it lingered on her daughter's flowing hair—now shorter than before, reaching just to her waist. The strands, sleek as silk, shimmered faintly in the dim light. Seeing the shortened length tugged at her heart a little, but at least it would grow back. The girl was unharmed, and that was what mattered.
She reached out to smooth her daughter's hair, her voice tender.
"Your hair's gotten shorter."
"...As long as you're fine, it doesn't matter," the Shogun replied quietly, still facing away.
"I'll always be fine. Unlike you—I don't have a mortal body. But you... you were in danger too, just a moment ago," Ei said softly.
"It's alright... I'm fine," the Shogun insisted stubbornly. Finally, she turned back to face her mother. Ei took a moment to study her expression—the faint remnants of tears still clung to her lashes, but her eyes had softened considerably.
Honestly... Ei was happy. Happy that her daughter could cry for her. It was such a simple thing—but deeply, quietly heartwarming.