It was Zenitsu's first time realizing the Demon Slayer Corps had somewhere like this.
Beautiful girls everywhere—flowers in full bloom, birdsong rising in every direction, like stepping into some celestial realm... Amazing. If he could stay here as a support staff member, that wouldn't be so bad, would it? There was no rule saying you had to pick up a sword to join the Corps. Spending his days as a male orderly at the Butterfly Mansion—what was wrong with that?
Not only would it be safe—no killing-yourself-in-training required—but he could spend every single day flirting and getting lovey-dovey with all these wonderful girls~
"Come on, open up—say 'ah~'"
A young woman in a white haori sat patiently in front of him, asking him to open his mouth for a throat check.
"Ahh—"
Zenitsu complied without complaint.
Even though it was close to midnight, the Butterfly Mansion's medical staff were consummate professionals. After Inori passed along news of Zenitsu's awakening to the duty nurse, they quickly found a physician who hadn't yet gone to bed to come examine him.
Zenitsu had become something of a minor celebrity at the Butterfly Mansion—more famous than Inori, and not for flattering reasons.
The story of how he'd gotten injured was simply too funny. The staff here might have heard of careless souls who took shelter under a tree during a storm and got struck by lightning—but actually meeting such a specimen in person was another thing entirely. The fact that this specimen happened to be the personal disciple of a former Hashira made it somehow even richer.
(③)
In the slow, unhurried rhythm of the Butterfly Mansion—streams running quiet—it was a rare and welcome piece of gossip.
"Mm~ nothing seriously wrong. One more good night's sleep and you should be back to normal."
"Keep up your Total Concentration breathing—it'll help you recover faster."
The physician's smile was warm and unhurried as she finished her instructions.
"Got it!"
The yellow-haired boy nodded obediently.
"Glad that's settled... but Inori, why were you the first one to find him? I'm sure I had Koharu keeping watch."
The voice belonged to a lively short-haired girl everyone had been calling "Shinobu-san." She clearly carried a certain weight at the Butterfly Mansion.
She was looking directly at Inori—the beautiful woman who'd played that prank on him—with an expression carrying a trace of suspicion.
"I was just passing by. It was late and I worried the girl might be scared walking the dark corridor alone, so I covered for her. Is that a problem?"
"Quite the Good Samaritan."
Shinobu gave a sarcastic little huff and crossed her arms, turning her head away. She'd said her piece and was done with the conversation.
Do those two not get along? Zenitsu thought, watching them. This girl seems like she's shutting Onee-san out. Not that he could complain about either of them—but if he had to pick, he'd choose Inori without a second's hesitation. Not that his pitiful fantasies had any bearing on reality.
But then Inori did something unexpected.
She reached out and curled her fingers gently around Shinobu's small, neat chin, and with entirely unearned confidence, turned Shinobu's face toward her.
"Honestly, I just wanted an excuse to see my adorable little Shinobu~"
"Don't touch me like that!"
Shinobu swatted her hand away and fixed Inori with a genuinely serious look.
Her round little face—that babyish face that puffed up so adorably when she was annoyed—had rounded out even further than usual, a faint flush sitting high on her cheeks.
"One more time calling me a little kid and I'll actually get angry!"
"Okay, okay~"
Inori raised both hands, laughing.
On the surface the exchange looked like Inori was losing. But those few simple gestures, those subtle expressions and everything they implied—the food chain between the two of them was already perfectly clear.
Zenitsu watched the teasing banter between the two girls with what felt like a rose-tinted filter over his eyes. Amazing. He'd lost track of who he was more envious of. He just knew that watching them made him feel inexplicably happy.
"Zenitsu Agatsuma, correct?"
Shinobu turned to look at the boy—two years her junior.
Still freshly irritated from Inori's teasing, her voice came out sharper than usual, enough to make Zenitsu flinch.
—This Shinobu-san is terrifying!
"Since you've recovered, I'll have the kasugai crow send word to Kuwajima-san tomorrow. He said he'd send another disciple to come collect you."
"Huh? That—that soon I'm being sent away?"
Zenitsu looked startled.
Especially at the words "another disciple"—his face shifted visibly.
"Mm?" Shinobu gave him a flat look. "You want to stay longer?"
"That's not... I..."
Zenitsu lowered his head, stumbling over the words like he had something he couldn't quite bring himself to say.
"Out with it. Don't drag it out."
Shinobu was running out of patience.
This was exactly the kind of person she was at this point in her life—earnest and exacting, clear sense of right and wrong. Part of why she'd kept Inori at arm's length even now, unable to fully warm up to her. Even after she'd decided to model herself after her older sister's gentler way—she always had to fight her own temper. Because if she didn't... she'd have picked up both Zenitsu and Inosuke the moment they'd showed up at the Butterfly Mansion and beaten the laziness out of them personally.
"I—I want to stay here! I don't want to go back!"
Zenitsu made the announcement with the look of a man burning his bridges, eyes screwed shut.
"Huh?"
Not just Shinobu and the physician—even Inori raised an eyebrow.
"What are you saying?"
Shinobu asked, hands on her hips.
"I want to stay here as a support member... is that allowed?" Zenitsu lifted his face with an expression on the verge of tears, going full theatrical-plea. "I don't want to train anymore... it's too hard, I think it would actually kill me..."
Inori pressed a hand to her forehead and looked away.
This is the same person who was wailing in the sickroom earlier, swearing again and again he'd work hard from now on. Zenitsu was still a child. Without real consequences staring him in the face, he'd never grow up. In some ways Kanao was more the adult—and she was actually younger.
But Inori didn't need to say or do anything right now.
Because she could sense a terrifying aura beginning to radiate from Shinobu's direction. A vein stood out on that pale forehead. She was furious.
"Is that right?"
"If training is that hard and you really can't take it—that's understandable, Zenitsu-kun."
"Yes! Exactly!"
Zenitsu nodded with enthusiasm.
"Tell me, Zenitsu-kun. Have you studied medicine or herbalism?"
"N-no..."
He answered, ashamed.
"Then can you care for patients? Prepare their medicine, bathe them, wash their clothes, clean the wards—and handle less pleasant bodily matters without complaint? Some of our more seriously injured patients can't manage on their own, you understand."
"Is there... is there other work?"
Zenitsu swallowed and forced himself to ask.
"There is. You'd be a swordsman, like my sister and me—responsible for protecting everyone here. Could you handle that, Zenitsu-kun?"
"I... I..."
He had no answer. He knew the truth. He hadn't mastered a single Thunder Breathing form—his Thunderclap and Flash was incomplete, a half-finished, watered-down version.
"So since you can't do any of those things..."
Shinobu approached him with a smile, one hand reaching out as if to touch his cheek—
—and then her expression snapped shut. The smile vanished. She grabbed his cheek and yanked it outward hard, and Zenitsu screamed.
"Then drag yourself back to the Rumble Hashira and train!"
Shinobu ground the words out through clenched teeth, her lips trembling.
"Every swordsman here earned their right to be here by passing the Final Selection! Don't you dare look down on my sister's Butterfly Mansion! You coward! Do you think this is a place for playing house?!"
"S-sorry! I'm so sorry!!!"