Even though the three boys were running at full speed, night still fell quietly.
Heavy snow dyed the mountain path leading to the Mansei Bliss Cult a vast stretch of silver white.
Carrying large bundles and small packages, the three youths ran tirelessly toward the cult.
"Achoo! So cold… it's really cold…"
Zenitsu hunched his shoulders. His runny nose had frozen into an icicle, swaying back and forth under his nose.
He had Asakusa specialties strapped to his back and was carrying two boxes of high-end sweets in his hands.
"Big brother… how much farther is it?
My feet are about to fall off…
Feels like I've already walked every road I'll ever walk in my entire life…"
"Shut up, Stripe-itsu."
Walking at the very front, Inosuke didn't look back. He was holding a folding fan, fanning himself in the middle of a snowstorm—an utterly incongruous sight.
"This is nothing. Back when I was still a baby, I already ran across a whole mountain with my mom.
With this pathetic stamina, how are you supposed to be my underling in the future?"
"Yes, yes… big brother is the greatest…"
Zenitsu sniffed, complaining with his mouth, but his feet never slowed.
As he looked at Inosuke's back, his eyes gradually softened.
"Actually… I don't feel tired at all,"
Zenitsu thought silently.
"If it weren't for big brother… I'd probably still be crying somewhere right now, getting scammed out of money by girls.
Or getting bullied by my senior disciple.
He's the one who dragged that senior off for 'reformation.' He's the one who turned me into a brave person.
Inosuke really is… a great big brother."
"Zenitsu, let me carry the box. I'm not tired."
Tanjiro's gentle voice came from the side.
He was carrying Nezuko on his back and holding gifts in his hands, yet there wasn't the slightest trace of exhaustion on his face—only anticipation, like someone about to see family.
"No need! I need to train my muscles too!"
Zenitsu stubbornly puffed out his chest.
Tanjiro smiled, then turned his gaze toward Inosuke walking ahead. In his heart, he was also filled with quiet gratitude.
"Inosuke-kun…"
Tanjiro touched the mark on his forehead.
"You changed everything.
If things had followed the original path, Nezuko and I would have lost so much along the way.
It was you—using that forceful, unreasonable way of yours—who blocked all the sorrow outside.
You gave us money, gave us dignity, and even, for everyone's sake, didn't hesitate to—"
"Hey! You two!"
Inosuke suddenly stopped and turned around, looking at them suspiciously.
"Why are you looking at me with those disgusting expressions?
Are you cursing me in your heads or something?"
"My intuition is scary accurate, you know!"
"No, no!"
The two hurriedly waved their hands.
"Hmph."
Inosuke turned back around, but the corner of his mouth secretly curved upward.
In truth, how could he not be grateful to these two idiots?
Before meeting them, he'd just been a young master obsessed with winning and losing.
It was Tanjiro's stiff, uncompromising kindness, and Zenitsu's cowardly yet desperately sincere devotion to his companions, that had slowly changed him.
"Tch… I've really been corrupted by these two. Getting all sentimental."
Just then—
There was a soft sound from the box on Tanjiro's back.
With night fully fallen, the girl who had been holding it in all this time could finally take it no longer.
"Come out, Nezuko."
Tanjiro set the box down and opened it.
A small pink head poked out. Then the shrunken Nezuko crawled out of the box, stood in the snow, and stretched deeply.
"Mm~!"
Her pink eyes sparkled brightly in the snowy night. Her gaze swept past Tanjiro and Zenitsu, then locked precisely onto Inosuke.
The big brother with the familiar scent—the one who dressed her in pretty clothes.
She'd finally seen him again.
"Ino… Ino…"
Nezuko opened her mouth. Her pronunciation was still unclear.
She toddled over on her short little legs, reached out, and grabbed the large hand hanging at Inosuke's side.
Then she pressed her cold little cheek against his burning-hot palm and let out a relieved, contented hum.
Inosuke froze for a moment.
"Tch. What a troublesome brat."
He muttered—but he didn't pull his hand away.
"Number Three, since you're out, walk on your own.
I'm not carrying you."
"Mm!"
Nezuko happily rubbed against his leg, then reached her other hand out to hold Tanjiro's.
Zenitsu watched from the side, tears welling up in his eyes.
"Waaah… I want to hold Nezuko-chan's hand too…"
"Shut up! In your dreams!"
In the snowy night, the four walked side by side.
Inosuke held Nezuko's hand.
Nezuko held Tanjiro's.
Zenitsu tugged at the corner of Tanjiro's clothes.
Noisy, bickering, constantly yelling at each other.
"Hurry up!
Once we climb the mountain ahead, you'll see the gates of the Bliss Cult!
If I don't get tempura tonight, I'll boil all three of you!"
…
Mansei Bliss Cult.
Bright red lanterns hung throughout the corridors. Crooked paper cuttings were pasted onto the windows.
The air was filled with rich food aromas—and a strange, rhythmic pounding.
In the center of the courtyard—
"ORA ORA ORA!!"
Akaza, shirtless, revealing a body of powerful muscles and tattoos, swung a massive wooden mallet down again and again onto glutinous rice in a stone mortar.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Each strike carried enough force to shatter rock, yet was controlled with pinpoint precision so the mortar itself remained intact.
Under his pounding, the rice quickly became soft, elastic, and glossy.
"My lord! Lighter!"
Kaigaku, who was in charge of turning the mochi, trembled in fear. He held a water ladle, terrified that one misaligned strike would crush his head instead.
"With this strength… the mochi's going to turn into rice paste!"
"Stop whining!"
Akaza's forehead was slick with sweat, his eyes deadly serious.
"That brat Inosuke likes chewy food. I'm going to pound this mochi until it's harder than my fists.
If the texture's bad, you're dead!"
Kaigaku: "..."
Under the corridor eaves—
Daki was directing her brother, Gyutaro, as he hung lanterns.
"It's crooked! Brother! A bit to the left! No, the right!
Ugh, you're so stupid! You can't even hang a lantern properly!"
Gyutaro didn't get angry at all. He just chuckled.
"Ume, as long as you're happy…
But will that brat really like these bright red things?
I think hanging some heads might be more—"
"Shut up!"
Daki shot him a glare, then nervously took out a small mirror.
"This is a human New Year! It needs a festive atmosphere! And besides…"
She adjusted the new kimono she'd specially changed into, anticipation blooming on her face.
"Inosuke said red looks best on me.
When he comes back tonight… he'll definitely praise me, right?"
In the kitchen—
This was now the absolute core of the Bliss Cult.
The one ruling this place wasn't the cult leader, but a human woman named Kotoha.
"Lord Doma! No sneaking food!"
Holding a ladle, Kotoha unceremoniously smacked a hand that was trying to reach for freshly fried tempura.
Doma—now wearing a pink apron, his face dusted with flour—retracted his hand like a scolded child.
"Aww~ Kotoha-chan is so fierce."
He sucked on his finger, looking wronged.
"I just wanted to check the seasoning for Inosuke~"
"No."
Kotoha was firm. As she skillfully coated tempura in batter, she gave instructions.
"This plate is Inosuke's. That one's for Tanjiro and Zenitsu.
The guests aren't here yet—how can the hosts eat first?"
"Now go cut the daikon over there. Thin slices, remember.
Don't use your fan to freeze-shatter it like last time!"
"Yes ma'am~"
Doma cheerfully picked up the knife. Though he complained with his mouth, his rainbow-colored eyes were full of warmth.
He looked at busy Kotoha, at Akaza pounding mochi outside the window, at the bickering Daki siblings.
At that moment—
He felt as if his heart were being filled by something.
This feeling of bustling about to welcome someone home…
This warmth, this liveliness called family…
It's really quite nice~
Time slowly passed.
Inosuke still hadn't returned, and the atmosphere within the Bliss Cult began to subtly change.
The mochi was done.
The lanterns were hung.
The tempura was fried into little mountains.
A bubbling pot of sukiyaki steamed vigorously.
Everyone stopped what they were doing and gathered at the entrance of the main hall.
Akaza leaned against a pillar with his arms crossed, his foot tapping restlessly on the ground.
"That damn brat… why isn't he here yet?"
"There's only a quarter hour until the New Year. If he dares be late…"
Daki craned her neck to look down the mountain. She nearly chewed her handkerchief to shreds.
"Did he get lost? Or did the Demon Slayer Corps detain him?
Should we just go and slaughter our way over there?"
Doma waved his fan. Though he was still smiling, the temperature around him had already begun to drop.
"Oh dear, that won't do.
He promised Mom he'd come back. If Kotoha-chan ends up disappointed…"
His smile deepened.
"Dad will get very angry, you know."
Only Kotoha sat quietly by the table, carefully setting out Inosuke's favorite bowl and chopsticks.
She looked toward the door, her gaze steady and gentle.
"He'll come back."
—
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