The moon hung high in the sky as fine snow drifted down quietly.
Winter's chill deepened in the mountains.
Makomo instinctively pulled her clothes tighter. The mountain weather was always unpredictable. The biting cold turned her cheeks rosy red, and every breath she exhaled became white mist.
She rubbed her hands together, but it did little to warm her.
"Makomo, is it night already? Let me out."
Ryuya's voice came from inside the wooden box strapped to her back.
"Mmm."
Makomo carefully set the box down on the snow. Her fingers were red from the cold as she opened the lid.
Ryuya blinked as darkness gradually gave way to the snow-covered mountain path before him. For a brief moment, his eyes needed time to adjust.
He slowly climbed out of the box. His feet pushed against the wooden interior before landing on the snow with a soft crunch.
"Master, you're so cute right now, so tiny. I almost want to eat you in one bite."
Makomo squatted in front of him, smiling mischievously.
Ryuya snorted softly and allowed his body to return to its normal size.
"Makomo, are you cold?"
He draped his black suit jacket over her shoulders.
As a demon, he barely felt the cold at all.
Makomo tilted her head and smiled bluntly.
"Master, your clothes are so thin they're like paper. There's no difference between wearing them and not wearing them."
Ryuya rubbed his nose awkwardly.
"Then what should I do?"
"This is what you do!"
Makomo suddenly leaped forward, wrapping her arms around his neck and locking her legs around his waist. She buried her face against his chest and clung to him like a charm.
Her faint scent filled his senses. Her warmth pressed against him.
And beneath it all—
Hunger stirred.
Shinobu's small amount of blood earlier had barely satisfied him.
"Makomo, Master is very hungry. Aren't you afraid I'll eat you like this?"
Makomo raised her head slightly, smiling without fear.
"Master, where would you start? My arm? Or below my neck?"
As she teased him, one hand loosened accidentally.
"Ah—!"
She nearly slipped.
"Idiot. Hold on tight."
Ryuya wrapped an arm firmly around her waist.
Makomo's cheeks turned faintly red as she felt his heartbeat.
It had been a long time since he held her like this.
"Which way?" he asked.
"That way."
Makomo had an excellent memory. She guided him while he carried her forward.
Snow fell silently.
Two sets of footprints stretched across the white mountain path, only to be erased by the wind moments later.
The Kamado Residence
Halfway up the snowy mountain stood a small wooden house.
A young man with short dark red hair, a scar on his forehead, and Hanafuda earrings hanging from his ears trudged through the snow. A woven basket rested on his back, now empty.
He wore a green-and-black checkered haori over his coat.
Despite the cold, his face brightened when he spotted the familiar house ahead.
"I'm home!"
Kamado Tanjiro let out a breath of relief.
His family had made a living selling charcoal for generations. Their home stood in a secluded area, far from other houses.
Lonely—
But peaceful.
"Oni-chan!"
Before he reached the doorway, a slender girl stepped out into the snow to greet him.
Her long black hair was tied back neatly. Her large pink eyes shone brightly, and her soft kimono contrasted beautifully against the white snow.
When she smiled, dimples appeared on her cheeks.
Kamado Nezuko.
"Nezuko!"
Tanjiro's face lit up.
"It's freezing. Why are you outside? You'll catch a cold."
"It's alright, Big Brother. Let me help you."
Nezuko cheerfully reached for the basket on his back.
"You don't have to, I can—"
Before he could finish, she had already lifted it off him.
"Big Brother, you've worked hard. Come inside quickly."
She grasped his hand warmly.
Then she paused.
His fingers were ice-cold.
Ever since their father, Kamado Tanjuro, passed away from illness, Tanjiro had become the pillar of the family.
He woke before dawn every day to sell charcoal in town, regardless of scorching heat or heavy snow.
He never complained.
Not once.
Nezuko admired him deeply.
And worried for him just as much.
She had learned sewing from their mother so she could contribute in her own way, hoping to ease even a fraction of his burden.
"Nezuko, my hands are dirty. I haven't washed them yet. Let go."
Tanjiro panicked slightly.
His little sister was known in town for her beauty.
How could he let her hands get dirty because of him?
...
Author's Note:
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1. Dragon Ball: Oolong's Sex Adventure
2. Elements of Lust – ATLA & Korra Mixed Smut
3. Doraemon: Filtering with Nobi Tamako
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5. High School DxD: Rias Gremory, the Phenex Bride
6. Versatile Mage: Awakening the Succubus System
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