Masachika stared at him blankly. The look on his face only fanned the flames of Sanemi’s anger. Look at him! Playing the fool as usual. Why would a clown like this risk his life to hunt demons? How could he possibly hate them as deeply as Sanemi did? The thought made Sanemi’s jaw clench.
“Why not?” There went that arched eyebrow again. “Don’t you want to be Hashira? Girls will fall all over you. I can just see it.”
“Even less interested.”
“You don’t want girls to like you?” Masachika pressed. “You sure you got your head on straight?”
“Shut up.” Sanemi whirled around and glared at Masachika. Everything about this guy was dancing on his last nerve. “Seriously, what is with you? You keep babbling on and on and on.”
Masachika stopped too. To Sanemi’s surprise, his eyes filled with pity.
“Listen, Sanemi,” he said at last. “No matter how desperate you get, don’t give up hope. I mean, even if no girl is giving you a second look now, you’ve gotta tell yourself that someday a woman will come along who sees something in you. Keep your chin up, okay?”
“Huh?”
“You can do this.” Masachika patted Sanemi on the shoulder. Catching a glimpse of Masachika’s self-satisfied look, Sanemi felt ready to explode. He shoved Masachika’s hand away. “How can you talk about this meaningless drivel when we’re putting our lives on the line?”
Masachika shook his head. “How can I not? You’ve gotta enjoy life. Yeah, we could face death at any moment, but lots of Demon Slayers find love too. Some even start families. I mean, the Sound Hashira has three beautiful wives! Imagine that. Three! Wow, that’s a lot. Three wives. One would be enough for me. Just one lady I can love from the bottom of my heart...”
“All I want is to kill as many demons as I can,” Sanemi interrupted, his voice like ice. “Life’s not for fun.”
He’d given up anything resembling a normal life years ago, when his mother became a demon and he killed her with his own hands. Now he was driven by a boundless hatred of demons, a hunger for vengeance.
If he had any dreams left to speak of, they were for the little brother he’d left behind. Genya would fall in love, get married, have a bushel of kids, and die at a ripe old age with a smile on his face. Sanemi would do anything to ensure that. If demons threatened his brother’s happiness, he’d mow them down. If his very head were cut off, he’d die sinking his teeth into the windpipe of any demon he could reach.
He didn’t need happiness for himself. Only for Genya.
“Got it?” he snapped. “Now get the hell out of here. Stop hassling me.”
Masachika frowned and was silent for a moment “Oh,” he said at last, his voice sounding strange. “I get it.”
Sanemi huffed in satisfaction. Finally he hears me.
Masachika grabbed hold of Sanemi’s wrist.
“What the...?” Sanemi scowled and tried to pull his arm away. “Get your hand—”
“We’re going to get some ohagi,” Masachika declared.
“Huh?”
“Don’t sweat it. It’s on me!” Masachika yanked on Sanemi’s wrist. “Scarfing down a mountain of ohagi will cheer anybody up.”
“You don’t get it at all!” Sanemi shouted. “You stupid ass!”
“Fine.” Masachika rolled his eyes. “I’ll throw in some matcha.”
“Like hell you will! Why ohagi, anyway?”
“It’s your favorite, right? I’ve seen you eating it. You weren’t glaring for once, so I figured you must love the stuff.”
“What are you, spying on me? You creep! You’re screwed up!” Sanemi showered Masachika in curses as his “brother” dragged him along with unexpected strength.
“Yeah, I know,” said Masachika softly, sounding suddenly vulnerable. It was so out of character that Sanemi stopped fighting back.
Masachika let go of him and kept walking. “I get worried about you, okay? Risking your life is one thing. That’s what we do. But...”
Sanemi stared at the back ahead of him, the kanji for “ruin” emblazoned across it, as it quivered.
“I don’t want you to give up on your life.”
Sanemi was at a loss for words as Masachika looked over his shoulder at him. He was calm, even smiling, yet somehow Sanemi felt like he was watching a man cry.
“New orders,” said Masachika as Sanemi entered the training dojo. “A joint mission, believe it or not.”
“You and me?” Sanemi frowned. “Why?”
“Didn’t expect that, huh? We hardly ever get to fight together.” Masachika sighed. “Now that we’re higher in the ranks, we’re too busy training the new kids.”
Time had indeed passed since their first meeting. They were both ranked Kinoe. At some point, Sanemi had stopped calling his loudmouthed comrade “Kumeno” and started using “Masachika.” The first time he had slipped and called Masachika by his first name, the other Demon Slayer had been so surprised he’d dropped his wooden training sword. Then a grin had spread across his face.
As they sat facing each other, cross-legged, Sanemi felt like he was back in his earliest training days. The particular smell of the dojo, sweat soaked into the wooden floor, was fondly familiar.
“It sounds like a tricky mission,” Masachika said.
“Is that why it’s a two-man operation?” Sanemi snorted out a laugh. “What’re our orders?”
“There’s this town a ways from here …” Masachika outlined the situation. According to intelligence, people were disappearing near an abandoned house on the outskirts of the town.
“The missing people got anything in common?” Sanemi asked, rubbing his chin.
“They’re always kids.”
The faces of his little brothers and sisters flashed through Sanemi’s mind, then evaporated. When he looked up, Masachika was watching him with eyes that seemed to beg for reassurance. Masachika was the only person Sanemi had told about his mother and siblings.
Sanemi brushed off Masachika’s concern. “Any distinction between girls and boys?”
“Nope.” Masachika’s tone grew hard. “The truth is, before these orders came to us, several other Demon Slayers were given the mission. All but three of them are now missing.”
“No clue if they’re alive or not?”
“No.”
“What about the three who didn’t disappear? Dead?”
“No,” Masachika said slowly. “All three of them came back just fine.”
“And?”
“They reported that the house was empty. No demons, no missing kids, and no sign of the other Demon Slayers,” Masachika elaborated.
“What the hell?” Sanemi ran a hand through his pale hair. The story was confusing, like a prank a fox spirit would play. “Anything special about the three who came back?”
“Unfortunately, I don’t have any more details.” Masachika sighed. “If we fail, the Hashira will have to go in.”
“So it’s serious,” said Sanemi, smiling grimly. The Hashira, pillars of support for the Demon Slayers, were only deployed in dire situations. But if he and Masachika, two Slayers of Kinoe rank, failed, they were the only remaining option.
Sanemi wasn’t about to let it get to that point. They didn’t need to trouble the Hashira. No matter what kind of demon was lurking in that house, he’d kill it with his own blade.
“Well, then.” He rose to his feet. “We’d better get going.”
His friend nodded and stood as well. “First joint demon hunt in a while.” He stretched luxuriously, gazing fondly at the ceiling of the dojo. Senior Slayers seldom had the chance to linger at their old training grounds. Abruptly, Masachika smiled. “Up for a quick sparring session first? It’s been so long.”
“Nah. I can kick your ass once the mission is over.”
“Two hundred seven bouts total. One hundred fifty-nine wins for me, forty-two losses, six draws,” Masachika announced cheerfully. “I won’t go down easy.”
“The answer’s still no, dodo.” Sanemi wasn’t in the mood for harsher banter. He started out toward the town where their mission awaited them.
“So rude. What happened to that sweet child I knew?” Masachika frowned. “And at some point you got taller than me.”
“Get used to it. I’ll be the first to make Hashira too.”
“If that happens, you’re definitely buying me a beef bowl! The girls will prefer me anyway. Just wait and see!”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Hurry up and quit wasting time,” Sanemi scoffed.
“It doesn’t have to be a swordfight. Name your contest. We can fight with beetles like we did when we were kids. C’mon, my honor as your big brother is on the line!”
“My idiot brother. Move it, will you?”
As serious as their mission sounded, Sanemi felt his heart lift. It had been a long time since he’d had an afternoon to enjoy with his old friend. A rare, faint smile crossed his face.
As reported, the town was a long walk from the dojo, and the house itself was far on the outskirts. By the time Masachika and Sanemi arrived, the sun was hanging low. The sky had been overcast when they left, and now it was heavy with dark clouds that looked ready to open up with rain at any moment. The wind had a biting chill.
“This the place?” Sanemi asked.
At his side, Masachika gazed upward, impressed. “Some house, huh?”
It was indeed a magnificent old building, surrounded by luxuriant trees. Still, there was something cheerless about it. Perhaps it was the tangle of foliage, but the initial impression of tranquility soon gave way to dismal gloom.
“Kinda creepy.” Sanemi’s brow furrowed. Even the red spider lilies blossoming in the garden seemed to grow less beautiful and more threatening.
Sanemi shook off the feeling. “Let’s go in.”
“Right,” Masachika agreed. Together they stepped into the house.