Hand in hand with Kanao, Soma returned to the Kamado family's dilapidated home. They had only just arrived when they saw a woman standing at the entrance.
She wore a white scarf wrapped gently around her neck and a kimono of soft purple and white hues. Her hair was gathered into a simple bun, secured with a plain wooden hairpin, with a few loose strands falling along the nape of her neck.
At the sight of them, she hurried forward, her steps quick and slightly unsteady.
"S-sir…"
Kamado Kie's voice trembled faintly as she called out. Bowing deeply, she stole a glance past Soma's shoulder—yet when she failed to see Tanjiro among them, a flicker of fear crept into her lowered eyes.
"It's quite late, Lady Kie. You're still awake?" Soma said lightly, as though making casual conversation. Then, noticing her unease, he added with a small smile, "Tanjiro's just behind us. He'll be back shortly."
Only then did Kie Kamado seem to breathe again, the tension in her shoulders easing just a little.
Soma gave a faint chuckle and continued forward, still holding Kanao's hand as they stepped toward the house.
It wasn't until he had passed her that Kie lifted her head, rising onto her toes to peer into the distance. Sure enough, she could just make out a familiar figure approaching under the dim moonlight.
Relief washed over her completely, and she quickly followed after them with light, hurried steps.
Lifting the thick straw curtain at the entrance, they stepped inside. The lamp was still lit, its wavering glow illuminating the modest interior. From the adjacent room, a small head popped out for a brief moment—only to disappear again in an instant.
Soma led Kanao into the room Kie had prepared for them earlier that day. The bedding had already been neatly laid out, folded with care.
He reached out and gave Kanao a gentle pat on the head. "I'll get you some warm water to wash your feet, then you can rest."
"…Mm."
Kanao nodded quietly. She walked to the bedside and removed her shoes and socks, revealing her pale, delicate ankles.
Soma shook out the bedding slightly to make it more comfortable, then turned and stepped outside to fetch the warm water.
But the moment he crossed the threshold, he paused.
Kie Kamado was standing just to the side of the doorway, already holding a basin of steaming water.
"Sir, I've already prepared this… I wasn't sure what else you might need…"
Soma blinked in mild surprise, then inclined his head. "Thank you for the trouble, Lady Kie."
Lowering her gaze, she carried the basin inside and placed it beside a chair.
Soma followed, lifting the basin and bringing it to the bedside. He dipped a cloth into the warm water, preparing to wash Kanao's feet.
Just as she was about to leave, Kie caught sight of this scene—and froze, her expression filled with astonishment.
After a brief hesitation, she stepped forward again with small, careful steps.
"S-sir… please, allow me."
Soma paused, glancing up at her.
"Let me do it," she said softly, already bending down. With practiced ease, she picked up the cloth and knelt, beginning to gently wash Kanao's feet.
Kanao's brows drew together ever so slightly.
Soma hesitated for a moment, then said nothing, instead moving to sit by the small table in the room.
Seeing his silent consent, the tension in Kanao's expression eased just a little. Lowering her gaze, she watched the woman before her.
Kie knelt quietly, her posture composed and gentle. She brushed aside a stray lock of hair from her forehead before continuing, her movements careful and attentive.
"Is the water temperature all right?" she asked softly as she worked.
Kanao kept her eyes lowered, glancing at her briefly. In the flickering candlelight, the woman's face appeared warm and kind.
For reasons she could not quite explain, another image surfaced in her mind—a different woman, harsh and cruel, wielding thorns and striking her without mercy.
Almost instinctively, Kanao turned her head away.
"Is it too hot?" Kie asked quickly, lifting Kanao's foot from the water and testing it herself. "It should be about right…"
"Does it feel comfortable?"
Kanao's lashes trembled faintly as she kept her gaze lowered, offering no reply.
…
When Kie finally carried the basin away and left the room, Kanao slowly raised her head.
Her eyes followed the woman's retreating figure, her clear, delicate gaze lingering—lost in thought.
"Kanao… what is it?"
Soma stepped closer, following the direction of her gaze with a faint trace of curiosity.
"…It's nothing, Uncle," she replied softly.
"Then get some rest."
He gave her head a gentle pat and blew out the lamp. In an instant, the room sank into darkness.
Though Kanao closed her eyes, her ears remained keenly alert. From the adjacent room came faint, muffled voices—the soft, anxious tones of a mother asking her son if he had been hurt.
Each word carried warmth, concern… a trembling thread of fear.
Listening to it, Kanao found herself recalling the first time she had seen Nezuko—the girl crying so hard, tears falling like petals in the rain. Back then, Kanao hadn't understood.
It was only her father who had died.
Why cry over that?
Why feel such sorrow?
Her small hand curled unconsciously into a fist.
The tenderness in that woman's voice—the way she cared so deeply for her child—was nothing like what Kanao had known.
Because she and Nezuko were different.
That was why she didn't cry. Why she didn't feel sadness.
She had never had a gentle mother like that, nor a kind father. So she simply… didn't care.
From the very beginning, there had been nothing.
And if there was nothing to begin with, then there was nothing to lose.
And yet…
Why am I so different?
In the darkness, the girl opened her eyes. Though she didn't turn toward him, she knew Soma was there beside her.
"…Uncle."
"Yes?"
Soma glanced in her direction.
"…Am I different from other people?"
"Why would you say that?"
Kanao pressed her lips together, unsure how to put the feeling into words. Her gaze lowered again as she spoke haltingly, "I just… suddenly felt a little uncomfortable. Like something's wrong with me. Like… I'm different because I'm not good enough. Maybe there are many things I can't do well…"
Seeing her like this—this faint stirring of emotion—Soma did not feel troubled. If anything, there was a quiet sense of relief. The girl who had once been like a puppet, sealed within her own silent world, was finally beginning to step beyond it.
He reached out and gently stroked her head, his voice warm and steady.
"Don't say that. It's true—you're different from others. But that's only because you're special. You're kind, Kanao… deeply kind. And you deserve to be loved."
He paused briefly before continuing, his tone soft but unwavering.
"No matter how harsh your past may have been, that was only temporary. Whatever others may have done or failed to give you… at the very least, you should know this—your Uncle will always care for you."
"If you ever feel sad or uneasy, you can tell me. I'll always listen. And if you grow tired… then don't hesitate to come to me. I'll hold you, gently."
"Kanao, don't deny yourself. You are truly wonderful—kind, and worthy of love."
"…Thank you, Uncle. I understand now."
Her voice was quiet, but steadier than before.
"Actually… just now, I was only a little jealous. Jealous of that crybaby."
Soma blinked. "Mm? What were you jealous of?"
"…I'm not anymore."
"…?"
He scratched his head, looking at her with mild confusion. A girl's emotions, he thought, were as fleeting and unpredictable as shifting weather—arriving suddenly, disappearing just as quickly, impossible to fully grasp.
"It's nothing, Uncle."
Kanao reached out, her soft arms wrapping gently around his waist.
"There's nothing I need to envy in anyone else."
...
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