At dusk.
The orange-red sunset dyed the white walls and black tiles of the Demon Slayer Corps headquarters with a warm color.
Butterfly Mansion.
The aroma of food drifted from the kitchen. The scent of grilled saury mixed with the savory smell of miso soup, appearing particularly enticing in the cool evening breeze.
Shinobu was wearing a casual light purple kimono and a white apron, standing in front of the stove, skillfully flipping the tamagoyaki in the frying pan.
"Shinobu-sama, the logistics department said that the team heading to the Swordsmith Village has entered the mountains and is estimated to arrive in half an hour." Aoi walked in carrying washed vegetables and reported.
"Understood."
Shinobu plated the golden tamagoyaki. Although her movements were methodical, her gaze kept glancing toward the courtyard gate outside the window.
Yamada had been gone for almost five days. Although he had sworn before leaving that no demon could kill him, those were, after all, Upper Ranks that even the Hashira spoke of with fear.
For the past few days, she had ostensibly been preparing medicine in the laboratory, but in reality, whenever she stopped, her mind was full of Yamada's smug and confident face.
"If you dare to come back with even one hair missing, see how I deal with you." She muttered to herself.
Just then—
"Dealing with who? I haven't even entered the door, yet I hear someone talking about me."
A lazy, slightly smiling voice came from the kitchen doorway.
Shinobu froze and turned her head abruptly.
Yamada leaned against the wooden door frame, his black Haori draped over his arm. He looked at Shinobu, who was wearing an apron and holding a spatula, and the corners of his lips curled into an arc.
He wasn't injured, and his clothes were clean, just as if he had just gone out to buy groceries.
"You..." Shinobu opened her mouth.
The pile of concerned words she had prepared, such as "Did you encounter any danger?" and "Did you solve the Upper Ranks?", were all swallowed back the moment she saw his lazy appearance.
She bit her lower lip, forcibly suppressing the joy rising in her heart, and snorted coldly. "You timed your return quite well, you must have walked in smelling the food."
Yamada walked over, pinched a piece of freshly cooked tamagoyaki from the plate, and threw it into his mouth. "Sss... a bit hot."
He chewed twice and commented, "The salt is just right. It seems your cooking skills haven't regressed these past few days."
"Using your hands to grab food, are you a wild boar? Go wash your hands."
Shinobu slapped away his hand that was reaching over again, glaring at him. But the smile in the corner of her eyes could not be hidden.
Yamada wasn't annoyed, instead taking the opportunity to grab her wrist and pull her into his arms. He lowered his head and kissed her cheek, which smelled of cooking smoke.
"I'm back."
The spatula in Shinobu's hand almost fell to the ground. Her cheeks turned bright red instantly, and she struggled to push him away.
"Aoi is still right there, you rascal."
Aoi in the corner had long since covered her eyes and turned away, muttering loudly while chopping vegetables, "I didn't see anything! I am a cabbage!"
...
This dinner was exceptionally warm.
Tanjiro and the others were currently collapsed in their dorms resting because they had been jolted all the way back by the Kakushi. There were only Yamada and Shinobu at the dinner table.
Yamada briefly recounted the encounter with Hantengu and Gyokko at the Swordsmith Village, skipping the details of his one-hit kill, only saying that he had cleared them out while he was at it.
After hearing this, although she was mentally prepared, Shinobu still couldn't help but take a deep breath. Two Upper Ranks, just like that, were taken out by him so casually.
How many more trump cards does this man have hidden?
"For the next period of time, Muzan should be quiet for a long while." Yamada put down his bowl and chopsticks and wiped his mouth.
"Then we can finally catch our breath." Shinobu rested her chin on her hand, looking at the moonlight outside the window.
"Yeah." Yamada leaned back in his chair, looking at Shinobu's soft profile under the light.
"It's good to stop the days of fighting and killing for a bit. Accompany me to town tomorrow, I heard a new wagashi shop opened. Eating your cooking every day, I need to change flavors occasionally."
"You think my cooking is bad? Then start tomorrow, you go to the kitchen and cook yourself." Shinobu said.
"I'm only responsible for eating. If you go on strike, I'll have no choice but to eat you."
—
The morning mist gradually dissipated, and the Butterfly Mansion welcomed a rare, peaceful morning.
Yamada changed out of his usual black uniform and put on a well-tailored dark blue kimono with subtle patterns, draped with a black overcoat that was quite popular during the Taisho era.
He had carefully wrapped the Kusanagi Sword in a thick gray cloth, making it look like a long-handled umbrella, and carried it casually in his hand.
In this day and age, the government had issued a ban on swords, so even the Demon Slayer Corps couldn't openly brandish weapons in towns where there were many prying eyes.
He leaned against the cherry blossom tree in the courtyard, waiting quietly.
Not long after, the paper door of the inner courtyard was gently slid open.
"Sorry to have kept you waiting." A voice sounded, carrying a hint of imperceptible nervousness.
Yamada turned his head, his gaze stalling as a flash of amazement crossed his eyes.
Today, Shinobu was not wearing her loose medical lab coat, nor was she wearing her signature butterfly-patterned Haori.
She had changed into an outfit full of Taisho romantic style: a light purple arrow-patterned kimono top, paired with a dark purple andon hakama, and on her feet were a pair of black lace-up leather boots.
Her hair that was usually tied up at the back of her head was let down, casually tied to one side with a ribbon, and a small pearl hairpin was tucked into her hair.
Shedding the sharpness of the Insect Hashira, she was now like a gentle and charming girl next door.
"What is it? Is there something dirty on my face?"
Being stared at intently by Yamada, Shinobu's already slightly flushed cheeks became even hotter, and she instinctively wanted to look down to check her clothes.
"No."
Yamada stepped forward and, without hesitation, took her left hand, which was wearing a lace fingerless glove.
The warmth from his palm made Shinobu's heart skip a beat. She wanted to pull her hand back, but it was held even tighter.
"I just think that it's a real waste to hide such a beautiful appearance under your uniform all the time."
Yamada pulled her toward the gate. "Let's go. If we're any later, the limited-edition signature items at the confectionery shop will be sold out."
Shinobu was dragged forward by him, and hearing this straightforward declaration of affection, the corners of her lips couldn't help but curl upward.
She gave up struggling and let that large, warm palm envelop her hand, following him with light, quick steps.