Kaigaku's body floated in the scalding water, slowly wreathed in rising mist, the surface rolling with a slow boil. The flesh had reddened from the heat and begun to shrink, releasing an indescribable smell, the kind that by all rights should be savory, yet made every stomach clench.
Both Hashira showed no particular reaction. To become a Hashira demanded more than ability alone, and they had seen far bloodier sights than this. But the Corps soldiers behind them were another matter. One by one they doubled over, retching where they stood.
Even Shinobu—who had wanted nothing more than to run Kaigaku through not twenty minutes ago—had turned her face away. Not pity. Just a normal human reaction.
Kanae stood in place and watched Inori, her gaze shifting into something complicated and still.
—She had so much still to say to her. They had only just begun, and now, through something like this, they were being forced apart.
"Kanae."
"Tell your Master... that you were deceived by me. That way he won't be too hard on you."
Kanae was still overwhelmed by a hundred mixed emotions when a voice reached her ear, low and quiet.
She turned, startled. A Red Feather Blade had appeared at the side of her head. She hadn't heard it arrive. Through the watching eye on its surface, Inori's voice carried through, like a small portable telephone.
"Don't say anything."
"And don't be sad. We'll meet again soon."
At the word of farewell, every small and gentle moment from these past two weeks rose before Kanae's eyes. Then she thought of the road ahead: wandering alone in this world with the word "demon" branded on her, and her nose stung, and the urge to cry swept through her. She swallowed it back.
Kanae saw through it all without saying a word. She understood now—all those times Inori had seemed about to say something and then stopped herself. What Inori was chasing after was not something Kanae could give her.
Inori spread her arms wide. Every Feather Blade scattered through the courtyard answered like soldiers called to formation, streaming back to her body. Then she let herself fall—tipping backward off the wall, vanishing.
"Stop!"
Sanemi wasn't going to stand there and watch. He sprinted for the wall, leapt to the top—and froze.
The other side was a low, sprawling field of reeds. Not a tree in sight. From up here the entire stretch of ground lay visible at a glance. And yet—not Inori, not even a bird, was anywhere in view.
—Chase her—where? Even the fastest runner alive couldn't clear this entire reed field in the few seconds since she dropped from the wall.
"That's enough."
Rengoku, seeing Sanemi rooted to the spot, had already guessed the answer.
"Her abilities are too strange, Sanemi. The two of us couldn't stop her. And do you honestly believe what she showed us just now was her full strength?"
"..."
Sanemi had a terrible temper—but he wasn't a fool. Just now, Inori had stayed entirely on the defensive. She hadn't made a single retaliatory move. And even so, they'd been run ragged like children.
"So what are we supposed to do?"
"Pull back."
Rengoku exhaled quietly and looked back at the rest of the Corps soldiers. Several had gone pale as paper; a few were leaning against a tree, heaving.
"...Tch."
Sanemi clenched his jaw. Chasing was pointless. No one knew which direction Inori had gone, and even if they found her again, catching her was another matter entirely. However much he hated it, there was nothing left to do but fall back.
"Kanae-nee, would you come with us? We should explain all of this to Master."
Kanae was still somewhere far away, somewhere inside the grief of watching that girl leave. But she was a Hashira—not an ordinary woman. When Rengoku called her name, she pulled herself back, forced a hollow smile into place, and answered.
"Of course."
...
...
The "Master" of the Demon Slayer Corps was currently a man named Kagaya Ubuyashiki.
The location of the main estate was closely guarded. Only the Hashira and a select few senior members of the support unit known as the Kakushi knew where it was. But Kaigaku happened to be the previous Hashira's disciple, and his teacher had let the information slip once, in passing conversation over tea, that the Butterfly Mansion and the Ubuyashiki Mansion were in very close proximity.
After Kaigaku left with Zenitsu, he hadn't returned to Mount Momoyama. He'd found the estate in the vicinity, and under Zenitsu's thoroughly uncomprehending gaze, knocked on the gate and demanded an audience with Master.
Kagaya Ubuyashiki didn't initially believe such an unlikely story. But on reflection—why would a boy who hadn't even passed the Final Selection fabricate something this elaborate? And knowing Kanae Kocho's far-too-gentle temperament, something like this wasn't out of the question.
So he dispatched Rengoku in his stead, with orders to bring Kanae and the alleged sunlight-resistant demon in to verify the matter. Of the two, it was the words "sunlight-resistant" that interested him more.
As it happened, Sanemi Shinazugawa was also here. He'd become a Hashira just this year, young with a ferocious temper; he'd even openly challenged Kagaya at his first Hashira Meeting. When he heard about something this extraordinary happening, he couldn't possibly sit still. He'd insisted on going with Rengoku, and Kagaya had agreed after three firm reminders not to let his emotions get the better of him.
That left Zenitsu alone in the residence. Even he, slow as he sometimes was, had long since worked out what his senpai was really after. He knew Kaigaku had done this to get back at Inori over Kanao. And what made it so much worse—Inori-nee had been accused of being a demon.
She had, admittedly, played at being a demon to frighten him right at the very start. But she was unmistakably a gentle, warm older sister—he'd felt that clearly in just two days together—many feelings he had never once experienced before in his life.
So Zenitsu sat and suffered through it for several agonizing hours, barely touching his food or moving, until at last the Wind and Flame Hashira came home. Beside them was a woman who looked very much like Shinobu, but a few years older and far calmer.
He didn't need an introduction. He already knew.
Flower Hashira. Kanae Kocho.
"Flower Hashira-sama... where is she? Where did Inori-nee go?"
He ran out and blocked their path before they'd even come fully inside.
Kanae's expression was somber. She'd seen him before, when he'd been unconscious after the lightning strike. She couldn't understand how he'd ended up at the main estate. But how it happened no longer mattered.
She wanted to answer him. She didn't know how.
Because she didn't know where that girl had gone either.
"She ran."
Sanemi answered for her, flat and cold.
"Wh—what?"
"She's a demon. She escaped." Sanemi rubbed the back of his neck, badly restrained irritation in every word. "Move. We're going to see Master."
"...No!"
"Inori-nee is not a demon!"
The words hit Zenitsu like a blow. Something cracked inside him—then he let out a low, animal sound, and threw himself at Sanemi, pounding his fists into his waist, like he'd completely lost himself.
He knew, of course. A Hashira wouldn't lie. Kanae-nee wouldn't lie either. But he knew too that he had to keep saying it—he had no choice but to force himself to deny what he already understood.
"Get off me!"
Sanemi was already in the foulest mood imaginable. He kicked Zenitsu back with one foot and rounded on him.
"She is a demon."
"She even killed your own senpai!"