Under the moonlight,
Kotoha set out with the Daki siblings and Nezuko.
They left in a hurry.
On the very first day after their departure,
in the rear courtyard of the Eternal Paradise Cult—
The moonlight was as pure as washed silk,
but for certain people, the world had already drained of all color, turning stark black and white.
"Sigh…"
A long, mournful sigh drifted out from deep within the main hall.
Inosuke sat at his desk, red brush in hand, approving and rejecting believers' petitions.
"This one… wants to get rich?
If it were that easy, do you think my money grew on trees? I scraped it together one coin at a time—by scamming people.
This one… wants a son?
Boys or girls, what's the difference?
If you come back with that kind of thinking again, don't bother coming at all."
"Sigh…"
Another long sigh—this time accompanied by the rhythmic tap tap of a fan hitting someone's palm.
A vein twitched at Inosuke's temple. He finally snapped and looked up.
"Dad!!
Can you shut up for one minute?!
This young master is handling serious business here!
You sigh once every minute—are you trying to sigh all my good fortune away?!"
Doma was sprawled across the opposite side of the desk, chin resting on the tabletop.
Those once-brilliant rainbow eyes now looked dull, as if covered in ash.
"But… Inosuke…"
He blinked pitifully, drawing little circles on the desk with his finger.
"Kotoha-chan and the others… have been gone for a full twelve hours already.
I wonder if they've eaten… if they ran into bad people on the road…
If Ume's bad temper caused trouble again…
I miss Kotoha-chan…
I miss hearing her sing…
I miss brushing her hair…"
Inosuke's mouth twitched.
"…My mom's only been gone one day."
"One day apart feels like three years!" Doma cried dramatically.
"Round it up and that's basically several years already~"
Over the next few days, Inosuke finally understood just how hard his mother's life had been.
During meals—
Inosuke had barely picked up a piece of tempura when Doma leaned over, face full of worry.
"I wonder if Kotoha-chan can find tempura this crispy out there…
What if the oil outside isn't hygienic?"
Inosuke: "..."
In the bathroom—
Inosuke had just squatted down when Doma's ghostly sigh drifted in from outside the door.
"Inosuke… do you think the toilets outside are dirty?
Kotoha-chan loves cleanliness—will she be able to handle it?"
Inosuke: "..."
Even during training—
While Inosuke was sparring with Tanjiro,
Doma suddenly dropped from the sky and wedged himself between them, map in hand.
"Oh! I just checked—Yoshiwara seems colder than here!
What if Kotoha-chan didn't bring enough clothes?
What if she catches a cold?!"
Tanjiro: "…Um, Lord Doma…
there's nowhere colder than the Eternal Paradise Cult."
Finally—
On the third day, when Inosuke was on the verge of a nervous breakdown—
"THAT'S ENOUGH!!!"
He slammed the stack of documents to the floor, jumped onto the desk, and pointed straight at Doma's nose.
"What exactly are you trying to do, huh?!
If you're that worried, then go after her yourself!!
Your legs are attached to your own body—what good does whining to me do?!"
The hall fell deathly silent.
Kaigaku, who had been mopping the floor, was so startled he dropped the rag.
Doma froze, then his expression turned shy and awkward.
He poked his fingers together, cheeks flushing a suspicious pink.
"Well… I do want to go…
But… Kotoha-chan went to relax.
If I follow her, won't she think I'm an overly controlling husband?
What if she feels I'm haunting her and… stops liking me?
My image in her heart is that of a perfect, gentle, ideal husband, you know…"
Inosuke stared at him, dumbfounded.
"…Are you really Doma?"
"Did I leave for too long?
Give me back my dad."
He rubbed his forehead.
"Idiot! Who said you had to follow her openly?!
Can't you tail her secretly?!
Hide in the shadows!
Solve their problems for them!
Send umbrellas when it rains!
Buy them food—but don't let them know it's you!"
Inosuke's eyes spun as he started scheming.
"Dad, think about it—
when my mom runs into trouble, everything suddenly resolves itself.
That feeling of silent protection…
Isn't that romantic?
That's the highest realm of being a perfect husband!"
Doma's eyes lit up instantly.
"Silent protection…
Romance…"
"Whoa!!
Inosuke, you're a genius!!"
He grabbed Inosuke and kissed him hard on the cheek before being shoved away in disgust.
"This is brilliant! Absolutely brilliant!
Just as expected of my son—your emotional intelligence takes after me!"
Doma set Inosuke back down and solemnly patted his shoulder.
"Then I'll leave the cult to you, Young Lord.
Your father is off to pursue romance!"
With that, Doma vanished from the hall, leaving only a window still swaying in the wind.
Inosuke let out a long breath.
"…Finally. Peace and quiet."
He slumped back into his chair.
Tanjiro and Zenitsu immediately crept over.
"B-Boss… Lord Doma really left?" Zenitsu asked in disbelief.
"Yeah," Inosuke waved a hand.
"He went chasing his wife."
"Then…"
Kaigaku poked his head out from a corner, asking cautiously,
"Young Lord, what do we do now? Keep handling cult affairs?"
Inosuke glanced at the mountain of documents on the desk and grinned wickedly.
"Handle my ass."
He stood up and waved grandly.
"Idiot senior disciple! Go—close the front gates!
Put up a notice!
Say the Divine Child and the Cult Leader have gone to the Pure Land to report for work!
All cult affairs suspended for three days!"
Kaigaku: "…Yes."
Soon, only three boys remained in the hall—
And an elderly man with graying hair, peeking from behind a pillar.
Sato.
He was an old hand of the cult, already meant to be retired.
But after Inosuke returned, he had come back specially to help with cleaning—just to see the young lord he'd watched grow up.
"Grandpa Sato!"
Inosuke suddenly called out.
The old man jumped and hurried forward, eyes cloudy but filled with excitement.
"Y-Young Lord… you still remember me…"
"Of course I do."
Inosuke walked over and stuffed a handful of gold pieces into his hand.
"Go buy something good to eat.
You don't need to come in these next few days—go rest."
"Ah—ah! Thank you, Young Lord…"
Sato wept openly, looking at the spirited young man before him.
He saw the shadow of Lord Doma from years past—
yet this young lord had something more: genuine human warmth.
"…The Young Lord… has truly grown up."
After sending everyone away,
Inosuke pulled Tanjiro and Zenitsu into a corner conspiratorially.
He stripped off the heavy ceremonial robes and changed into neat, practical clothes.
"Boss… what are we doing?"
Zenitsu asked nervously.
"Are we tailing—uh, protecting—Lord Doma too?"
"Nope."
Inosuke wagged a finger confidently and pulled out a letter.
The envelope was red, faintly scented with cedar.
"Take a look. What do you think this is?"
Tanjiro leaned in and sniffed.
"This smell… it's familiar…
Is it… Mr. Akaza?!"
"Bingo!"
Inosuke snapped his fingers.
"Third Uncle wrote to me!"
"What?!"
Tanjiro and Zenitsu gasped, then burst into excitement.
That tsundere third uncle who beat them senseless—but taught them everything during special training!
That super awkward idiot who vanished without a word!
"What did he say?" Zenitsu demanded.
Inosuke didn't open the letter. He tucked it close to his chest and smiled mysteriously.
"Heh… secret."
He slung his ancient blade over his back, eyes shining.
"Since the old man's chasing his wife, and my mom's off relaxing,
we can't just sit around."
"Minions!
Let's move out!
We're going to find Third Uncle!!"
In a remote hot spring town—
"Auntie! Have you seen these kids?!"
Rengoku Kyojuro stood at a steamed-bun stall, holding up his soul-level drawing, his voice loud enough to shake the street.
The vendor nearly dropped her buns.
"Goodness! Young man, you're too loud!
No, I haven't seen them!
What kind of children look like this?
Possessed by demons?"
"Mm! No, they're very handsome!" Rengoku said seriously.
"There's also a blond boy who cries a lot, and a red-haired boy with a scar on his forehead!
They're my unilaterally acknowledged foster sons!"
"…Isn't he the possessed one?" the aunt muttered, handing him a bun.
"Eat this and go—don't block my stall."
"Delicious!!"
Rengoku swallowed it in one bite, eyes sparkling.
"This bun is amazing! Your craftsmanship is superb!
Since I ate your bun, I'll assume you haven't seen them! Farewell!"
He left behind enough money to buy an entire basket of buns and charged off again.
Public bathhouse—
"Pardon me! Gentlemen currently bathing!
Though this is abrupt, may I show you this portrait—"
"PERVERT!!!"
Screams and splashing erupted inside.
Though mistaken for a creep, though still without a single lead—
Rengoku stood in the street at sunset, smile still blazing.
"It's fine.
Even if I must search to the ends of the earth,
I will find you!
Inosuke, my boys—wait for me!!"
On a mountain path leading north—
Shinobu Kocho walked alone, a small bundle on her back.
Her face was pale, eyes filled with exhaustion and anxiety.
"Eternal Paradise Cult…"
She stared at the map, brows tightly knit.
That place was far too hidden.
Inosuke had mentioned it before, but the exact route was known only to believers.
Even within the Demon Slayer Corps' intelligence network, information on this cult was scarce.
She had asked many people along the way.
Most shook their heads at the name.
"…Is it really impossible to find?"
She leaned against a tree, wiping sweat from her brow as helplessness washed over her.
Just then, a kindly middle-aged woman with a bamboo basket passed by.
Seeing Shinobu's troubled expression, she stopped.
"Oh my, young lady," the woman asked warmly.
"You look distressed—are you lost? Or is something troubling you?"
Shinobu paused, then forced a polite smile.
"Auntie, I'm looking for a place… called the Eternal Paradise Cult.
Do you know it?"
The woman's expression changed instantly—
a mix of sympathy, understanding, and faint reverence.
"Paradise Cult, huh…"
She sighed, setting down her basket, eyes growing gentle.
"What is it, child?
Have you run into an obstacle you can't overcome?
Is someone in your family gravely ill?
Or have you lost someone dear?"
Shinobu's heart clenched.
The woman patted her hand softly.
"Do you want to go to the Pure Land?
Or ask that great Cult Leader if your loved one is doing well on the other side?"
"I…"
Shinobu opened her mouth—and found she couldn't refute it.
"If that's the reason,"
the woman pointed toward a snow-capped mountain hidden in clouds,
"then head that way.
Keep going—until the snow is deepest.
You'll see a vermilion gate."
"They say… the Cult Leader there can hear the voices of the dead.
Whether it's true or not, for people living in pain like us,
having something to hope for is better than despair."
The woman hoisted her basket and walked away.
Shinobu stood alone, staring at the distant mountain.
The wind stirred fallen leaves.
She took a deep breath and clenched her fist.
"…The voices of the dead?
How ironic."
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