"Miss Makomo… do you think Sabito's soul might still linger here—still watching over the one he cherished most, Urokodaki-san?"
Standing before the massive stone, Soma spoke quietly, his gaze fixed upon its weathered surface. For a fleeting moment, it was as if he could see a figure there—a boy with medium-length, flesh-toned hair and silver eyes, wearing a haori patterned in interwoven shades of yellow, orange, and green like a tortoiseshell. A white outer robe draped over his shoulders, and a fox mask with open, stern eyes covered his face. The boy stood atop the stone, looking straight at him.
Makomo followed his gaze instinctively, her eyes lifting toward the rock.
But there was nothing there.
Only a faint breeze brushed past her cheek, carrying with it an inexplicably gentle warmth.
"Would he… really be here?" she murmured softly.
"Close your eyes," Soma said in a low voice. "Try to feel it."
After a brief hesitation, Makomo did as he asked. Her lashes lowered as she faced the stone, shutting out the world.
She didn't see Sabito.
But she felt something.
A presence—soft, warm, as though someone were quietly watching over her.
It felt… familiar.
And yet, at the same time, strangely distant.
She couldn't be certain whether that warmth truly belonged to Sabito. Perhaps it did. Perhaps it didn't. But if souls truly existed in this world, then she believed—no, she knew—that Sabito would remain here.
Just as she herself might… if her journey were to end.
A single tear slipped quietly from the corner of her eye.
After a long while, she opened her eyes again. And for a fleeting instant, it almost seemed as though she saw him—Sabito standing atop the stone, facing her, his mouth open as if urgently trying to say something.
A dull ache spread through her chest.
Suppressing it, Makomo lifted her gaze to the tall figure before her. "Is this why you asked me to walk with you?" she asked softly.
Soma turned to look at her, his expression unusually serious. "Can you see Sabito's soul?"
"Wait... can you see it?" Makomo asked, confusion flickering in her eyes.
Soma shook his head.
"How could something like a soul exist in this world?" she said quietly, her gaze drifting back to the stone. "When a person dies, they're gone. That's all there is to it. But… if souls truly do exist, then perhaps Sabito—and even I—would remain here."
Her voice grew faint as she traced the countless sword marks etched into the stone, each one a remnant of someone who had once stood where she now stood.
"You didn't see him, huh…" Soma muttered, frowning slightly.
In his memory, there had been a time when Tanjiro trained here, striving to split this very stone—and Sabito and Makomo had appeared to guide him, as though in the form of lingering spirits.
But perhaps…
That had only been something that existed in Tanjiro's mind.
Or perhaps there were other factors at play.
No matter how he turned it over in his thoughts, Soma couldn't quite reach a conclusion.
…
A cool breeze swept through the clearing, carrying a faint chill.
Snapping out of his thoughts, Soma glanced at Makomo. She seemed… a little impatient now. Not openly so—her nature was too gentle for that—but there was a subtle restlessness in the way she stood, as though she wished to leave yet remained out of courtesy.
He smiled faintly and shifted the conversation.
"I've heard that you'll be heading to Mount Fujikasane soon to take the Final Selection."
Makomo looked up at him, but said nothing.
"Would you be willing to take us along?" Soma asked, finally stating his purpose.
For a moment, silence hung between them.
Then Makomo lifted her head fully, her gaze steady despite the softness of her voice. "I know you're interested in hunting demons… or perhaps there's another reason. But I need you to understand—fighting demons is not as simple as you think."
Her voice was light, almost ethereal, yet carried an unusual firmness.
"I know," Soma replied with a nod.
"You don't," Makomo said, biting down slightly on her words as she looked up at him. "Not long ago, I joined a demon-hunting squad to track a demon…"
Her voice faltered for a brief moment before continuing.
"…and now, every single one of them is dead. They were all slaughtered—cruelly, mercilessly—by that demon."
She met his eyes.
"Do you understand what I mean when I say every single one of them?"
Unbidden, the faces of those people surfaced in her mind—Furukawa Hiroshi and the others. They had been kind, warm, always looking out for her. And yet, what had seemed like a simple farewell had turned into a permanent parting.
Just recalling it was enough to make her chest tighten, as though sorrow itself were pressing down on her heart.
"Stop thinking about hunting demons," Makomo said firmly. "Sensei has already received word from his Kasugai Crow. He intends for you to become instructors of Sun Breathing. Compared to slaying one or two demons, nurturing more swordsmen who can inherit Sun Breathing is far more important. That kind of contribution isn't something killing a handful of demons could ever match."
Even so, Soma simply smiled. "Even if you say that, Miss Makomo… I still want to see the Final Selection at Mount Fujikasane for myself."
"…Do you not understand what I'm saying?"
A trace of anger finally surfaced in her voice.
"You're gambling with your life," she continued, her tone tightening as she looked up at him. "Maybe you think it's worth it, but have you ever considered what the people behind you will have to endure if something happens to you?"
"The people behind me?" Soma echoed, slightly taken aback.
Makomo's gaze sharpened.
"Kanao, Lady Kie, Nezuko, Tanjiro, Takeo… all of them care about you so much. Can't you feel it?" Her voice trembled, not with weakness, but with suppressed emotion. "If you were to die because of this, do you have any idea how much pain they would suffer? Do you understand what that kind of loss feels like?"
Perhaps it was because she was thinking of her own past—of Sabito, of her seniors, of the sudden and irreversible farewells she had experienced—that her emotions spilled over.
Her frustration burst forth all at once.
"What you're doing… is selfish. Do you understand that?"
"You act on your own assumptions, believing you're doing something noble, something right—yet you never stop to think about how those who care about you will feel if you're gone. You don't consider their pain at all."
Her voice wavered, but she didn't stop.
"People like you… are really… truly selfish."
Faced with such an unexpectedly harsh outburst, Soma could only scratch his head awkwardly.
After venting, Makomo seemed to realize it herself—her anger hadn't truly been directed at him. It had simply been triggered by him.
In truth, she had been thinking of others.
Of her seniors. Of Sabito. Of herself.
Because whether it was them… or her… they had all been walking the same path.
A path that might, in the end, hurt the people who cared about them most.
"…I'm sorry."
Makomo lowered her head and bowed deeply. "I'm sorry for saying such harsh things all of a sudden. But please… take better care of yourself. The people who care about you… value you far more than you seem to value yourself. Please, think of them more."
"The people who care about me…" Soma repeated quietly, standing still.
Strangely, he found it difficult to truly relate to her words.
If there was anyone who genuinely cared about him… it would probably only be Kanao.
As for the Kamado family…
Did they really care?
They knew what he was—a demon.
Everything between them was likely just the result of fear, or obligation. Perhaps they endured him for the sake of an older brother, or a younger sibling, or their mother.
Deep down, weren't they afraid of him?
Weren't they… hoping that a creature like him would simply disappear?
"Please… care a little more about yourself," Makomo said once more, bowing again. "Don't let demon hunting make you overlook the most precious things right beside you."
With that, she glanced one last time at his unmoving figure before turning and walking away.
The night breeze stirred her black hair, brushing softly against the smiling fox mask that concealed her expression.
As she walked past the massive stone, she thought she saw them again—her seniors, their fleeting figures lingering like echoes. They had all left in what now felt like selfishness, never considering her grief, nor their master's sorrow.
And now…
She was walking the same path.
Makomo lifted her gaze to the cold moon hanging in the dark sky and raised her hand, as though she could touch the pale light spilling down upon her.
"So I… am walking that same selfish path as well…"
Her voice was barely more than a whisper.
"If I do leave one day… Urokodaki-sensei… please forgive me."
"…This is all my fault."
…
Watching her small figure gradually disappear into the distance, Soma shook his head.
All he had wanted was to ask her to take them along to Mount Fujikasane, and somehow he had ended up getting scolded instead. The whole situation felt rather baffling.
"…Is she on her period or something? Why the sudden temper?" he muttered under his breath.
Not dwelling on it further, he turned to head back.
But after only a few steps, a figure appeared silently at his side.
Kanao.
Her light footsteps made no sound as she slipped neatly into his shadow. When Soma turned to look at her, the girl tilted her head up, her pinkish-purple eyes quietly meeting his.
He smiled.
In the end… the only one who truly cared about him—the demon that he was—was probably just her.
"Let's go."
He reached out and gently patted the girl on the head.
Before long, they arrived back at the house he had only recently finished building. Pushing the door open, he stepped inside.
"Welcome back, sir."
Hearing the door, the woman—still wearing an apron—hurried over. She took a pair of slippers from the rack by the entrance and neatly placed them in front of him.
Soma paused for a moment, slightly taken aback. After a brief hesitation, he lifted his foot.
With Kamado Kie's help, he slipped off his shoes and changed into the light, comfortable slippers.
Instinctively, he glanced at her again.
At that moment, Kie brushed aside the loose strands of hair on her forehead before turning to help Kanao change into a clean pair of indoor shoes as well. Only after finishing did she straighten up, stepping slightly aside with her hands resting lightly before her abdomen, her posture gentle and composed.
Soma shook his head faintly, still not quite used to the customs here.
Stepping further inside, he noticed that the house—which had been messy and dusty not long ago—was now spotless. In one corner stood a wooden bucket with a mop resting against it, clear evidence that she had spent the entire time he was away cleaning.
Just then, he felt as though someone was watching him.
Turning his head, he saw the curtain to the adjacent room sway slightly, and for a brief instant, a delicate face seemed to retreat out of sight.
Nezuko, most likely.
"Sir, is there anything you'd like to eat?" Kie asked.
"…There's still food?" Soma replied casually as he sat down on the tatami in the main room. As a demon, he didn't feel hunger even after long periods without eating. Yet perhaps because he had once known what true hunger felt like, he still found himself enjoying food from time to time.
"Nezuko prepared some red bean porridge for you. It's been simmering this whole time."
"Red bean porridge?" Soma echoed, a little surprised.
"Yes," Kie said with a gentle smile. "Nezuko remembered that you said it was a bit too sweet last time, so she used less konpeitō this time. She's been worried it might not suit your taste."
"…Is that so?"
Soma scratched his head. He didn't quite remember saying that, but it must have happened. He hadn't expected Nezuko to remember something so small so clearly.
"Then I'll trouble you for a bowl, Lady Kie."
As he spoke, he turned to Kanao. "What about you?"
"I'll have the same as you, Uncle," the girl replied softly.
"Very well. Please wait a moment."
Kie nodded and quickly left, soon returning with two steaming bowls of red bean porridge.
Soma and Kanao each took a bowl and began to eat slowly.
Kie didn't leave. Instead, she sat nearby with needle and thread, quietly mending something—it looked like the clothes Soma had torn on branches a few days ago.
He glanced at it briefly before lowering his gaze again.
"Sir, how is the taste?" Kie asked, looking up from her sewing. "Now that it's less sweet… is it still alright?"
"It's good. I like it," Soma replied simply.
"And you, Kanao?" she asked, turning her attention to the girl.
"I'm the same as Uncle," Kanao answered as usual, following his lead. But after a slight pause, she lowered her head and added softly, "Though… it might be even better if it were a little sweeter."
Soma turned to look at her.
For Kanao, expressing her own preference like that was rare.
Unaware of this, Kanao simply looked back at him when she noticed his gaze.
"Next time, I'll make it sweeter for you," he said, patting her head again, a hint of warmth in his voice.
Kanao didn't quite understand why he seemed pleased.
But if he was happy—
then she was happy too, her lips curving into a small, gentle smile.
Kamado Kie finished stitching the last tear in the clothing, quietly committing their preferences to memory as she worked. Kanao clearly had a fondness for sweeter foods, while Soma's tastes were a little more unusual—he wasn't particularly picky, but he seemed to favor spicier dishes. She made a mental note to tell Nezuko later, so she could keep these things in mind when cooking.
Once the two of them finished eating, Kie stepped forward to clear away the bowls and chopsticks. Yet instead of leaving right away, she lingered where she stood, hesitating as though something weighed on her mind.
"Lady Kie, is there something you'd like to say?" Soma asked, a hint of curiosity in his voice.
She looked visibly nervous. "Y-yes… there is something."
"Go ahead."
"Sir… in a few days, will you be… going out?"
As she spoke, her fingers unconsciously tightened around the fabric of her clothing, and her eyes were filled with unease.
"Are you worried about Tanjiro's safety?" Soma replied. "Don't worry. Under normal circumstances, nothing will happen to him."
He assumed that would reassure her, that she would nod and take her leave.
But she didn't move.
Instead, she remained there, lips pressed together, as if struggling to say more.
"There's something else?" he asked, his tone shifting slightly.
If she was about to object to him taking Tanjiro along, he knew he wouldn't take it lightly. He had already planned out Tanjiro's path—carefully, deliberately—and it wasn't something he intended to change.
"…Yes."
Kie looked at him, clearly more anxious now that she sensed the subtle change in his expression.
"Then say it."
His fingers tapped lightly against the table as he closed his eyes halfway. For a fleeting moment, he wondered if he had been too lenient with the Kamado family lately—so much so that they had begun to forget what he truly was.
What his true nature was.
After a brief hesitation, Kie steeled herself. She lifted her gaze, her voice trembling but resolute.
"It's not just Tanjiro… I… I also hope that you will take care of yourself, sir."
As soon as the words left her lips, she lowered her head again. "E-everyone… cares about you very much."
Soma opened his eyes.
Beneath the darkness of his gaze, a faint glimmer of crimson stirred as he looked at the gentle woman standing before him, head bowed. For some reason, he found it almost… amusing.
After all, this entire family knew what he was.
A demon.
He studied her in silence for a long moment before finally letting out a faint smile, though his tone remained calm and unreadable. "I understand. It's getting late—Lady Kie, you should go and rest."
"Please... please make sure to look after yourself, Sir."
She bowed once more. Seeing that he didn't seem to take their concern to heart, she lowered her head slightly, a trace of disappointment lingering as she quietly withdrew.
After she left, Soma's gaze deepened. His fingers continued tapping lightly against the table, the rhythm slow and absent-minded.
Beside him, Kanao lifted her pinkish-purple eyes, silently watching him.
"Uncle… what's wrong?"
"Nothing."
He reached out, resting his hand atop her head, his fingers slipping gently through her smooth black hair as he spoke in a low voice. "Tell me… do you think it's genuine? Or just an act?"
Kanao frowned slightly, her delicate brows knitting together as she tried to think it through for him.
She felt that it was genuine.
But then again… if it were that simple, he wouldn't be troubled by it.
Perhaps he had already seen through something she couldn't.
And yet…
To her, it felt real.
At least—for now—it was real.
Just as she was about to voice her thoughts, Soma seemed to come to some conclusion of his own. He patted her head again and smiled, as if brushing the matter aside.
"It's late. My dear Kanao, you should get some rest."
Kanao hesitated, then fell silent.
Even though he looked calm… she could tell he wasn't.
So she reached out and gently held his hand.
"Uncle doesn't need to worry about others," she said softly. "As long as Kanao cares about you, that's enough."
"…I suppose that's true."
Soma let out a quiet breath, then reached over and lightly flicked her nose, his tone softening with affection. "Go get some rest. Tomorrow morning, I'll have Lady Kie make you a bowl of sweet tremella porridge."
"No." Kanao shook her head.
"Don't you like it?" he asked, puzzled.
She raised two fingers. "I want two bowls."
Soma let out a small laugh. "Haha, a greedy little Kanao, aren't you?"
He flicked her nose again.
"One for Uncle, and one for Kanao," she added quietly.
"I see." He looked at her for a moment, then gave a faint hum. After a pause, he said softly, "But Uncle doesn't really like sweet things. You can have both."
...
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