Masachika was oblivious. “I haven’t seen anyone like that,” he said, surprised. “Where’d they go?”
“Fool! I’m talking about you and your friend,” the old man sputtered. “But, well, now I get a proper look at you, you seem harmless enough. Maybe a bit dim, is all. Where’s your friend, though? He looked a right villain, he did. He’s not still in there, is he?”
The old man turned his suspicious gaze toward the house. Masachika cried in his heart, Sanemi!
The old man was talking about Sanemi. No mistake. So they really had come together.
And Sanemi had disappeared.
This had to be the work of a demon. Through some supernatural power, some wicked trick, it whisked certain people away, leaving others behind. But why Sanemi and not Masachika? Did that mean Sanemi had something in common with the other abductees?
Masachika fell silent, thinking, and the old man started up again. “So now you know there’s nothing more to see here. Not even the police have the right to go tramping over an old man’s memories. Take the other fellow and go, you hear me?” With this final warning, the old man turned and strode away into the night.
After watching him go, Masachika looked up at the house rising from its thicket of trees. Now that he’d heard the old man’s story, the house seemed less threatening than it did sad. Where had Yae disappeared to after losing her daughter?
What if …
Was she the demon he was after?
Perhaps Muzan Kibutsuji had given his blood to a woman in the depths of despair from the loss of her beloved child. The woman, now a demon, abducted children, unable to move on from her daughter’s death.
But where was she taking them? And what about the missing Demon Slayers, whose number now included Sanemi?
A thought flashed in the back of Masachika’s mind.
At the end of the long, dark hallway, Sanemi found a tatami-floored room. As he stepped inside, the scent grew even stronger.
“What is this?” Sanemi frowned at the strange sight before him.
A petite woman with long black hair piled on her head was bustling around the room, tending to six beds that stood in a neat row. Four children and two Demon Slayers lay in the beds, covered in linens so white they dazzled the eye. But two of the children and one of the Slayers were no longer breathing; flies had settled on their eyeballs and maggots crawled on their bodies. The children who were still alive had wasted away to skin and bones and stared vacantly at the ceiling with clouded eyes. The surviving Demon Slayer, lying in the bed farthest to the right, was wrapped in blood-soaked bandages. He groaned in agony, sounding like a crushed toad, before a violent fit of coughing overtook him and he vomited.
“Oh, dear me!” The woman chirped. “It came back up again, did it? You poor dear.” She wiped away the vomit with a gentle hand and gave the Slayer water from a pitcher. He was too weak to swallow, so it only dribbled from the corners of his mouth. She wiped the sweat from his forehead and propped him up on the pillows.
Without pausing, the woman turned to the girl in the next bed and began to comb her greasy hair. “We’ll make you look cute. All right?” She smiled, endlessly loving, as she braided the girl’s hair. Her words and gestures were maternal, but she was no human mother. Fangs gleamed in her mouth, and her eyes were blood red.
“I’ll always be here to take care of you,” the woman half-sang as she stroked the girl’s head. Abruptly, she turned to Sanemi. “Oh, that’s right! A new boy’s come to join us. Please get along nicely, everyone.” She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, revealing the characters “Lower One” inscribed in her left eye.
Sanemi’s eyes grew wide, then narrowed again. That number was proof that this demon reported directly to Muzan Kibutsuji. “You’re one of the Twelve Kizuki.”
This was no ordinary demon. He was looking at one of the twelve demons with the greatest concentration of Muzan Kibutsuji’s blood. A thrill of pure hatred made the hair on his arms stand on end.
Holding his Nichirin Sword before him, Sanemi leapt from the tatami. He aimed for the woman’s slender neck. He focused his attack on that single point, determined to avoid hurting her victims without showing any mercy to the demon herself.
The demon waved a slim arm and parried Sanemi’s blade with ease. The crimson flower in her hair fluttered the slightest bit, as if a breeze had kissed it.
“Wha—”
“Tee hee hee! No mischief, now.” At the sight of Sanemi’s surprised face, the edges of the demon’s red lips curled up. Her smile, blossoming like a flower, was like a gentle rebuke to a naughty child.
Sanemi glared at her. “What’d you do with Masachika?”
“Masachika?” She frowned briefly. “Oh, I didn’t want that one. Only you, my dear. Your little friend is doing just fine. He’s looking for you, but he’ll give up and go home soon enough.”
The demon peered into Sanemi’s eyes. “Poor darling,” she murmured. Long, slender fingers stretched out to him. The moment they brushed his cheek, Sanemi grunted and leapt back. He readjusted his grip on his sword.
The demon brought her fingers to her lips. Her empty eyes narrowed with amusement. “You were treated cruelly by a parent, weren’t you? I can always tell from the eyes. Your father? Mother? Or perhaps both?”
At this insult to his mother, Sanemi’s blood boiled. “Monster!” He swung his sword wildly. “You can go to hell!”
“Dear me, there’s no talking to you, is there?” With a nimble hop, the demon dodged Sanemi’s blow. “That won’t do. A child mustn’t fight his mother.” She laughed gently, and the sickly sweet air grew even thicker.
In the blink of an eye, the room transformed. Sanemi gasped and stared as the walls became slabs of pulsating red-black flesh. The clean white beds where the demon’s victims lay were pale, flabby lumps, like overripe fruit.
Sanemi grimaced. “What is this foul place?”
“My belly.” The demon’s voice remained steady and kind, and her gentle smile never wavered. “You’re inside me now, my child.”
“Huh?” Sanemi wasn’t sure whether to believe his eyes.
“You doubt your mother? What about now?” With a burbling sound, the bodies of the three dead children sank into the lumps on which they lay. The walls of flesh pulsed with greater strength.
A red tongue flicked out of the demon’s mouth. She licked her lips. “Delicious.”
“What’d you do with them?” Sanemi asked, his voice low with anger.
“Why, I ate them, of course,” the demon replied genially. “I sent them into my depths, my womb. Now we can be together forever.” She sighed, contentment in her soft voice, and pressed her hands to her breast.
Sanemi wanted to vomit. He no longer cared where he was or what was happening. He wouldn’t be satisfied until he took this demon’s head.
“Enough,” he snarled. “Quit this sick mommy act right now.”
“Act? Oh, dear.” She shook her head. “It’s the honest truth. Illness stole my own dear daughter from me. Now, in her place, I ease the suffering of children not blessed with kind, loving parents. You see, I can always tell which ones they are. The pain they’ve suffered. How sad they’ve been. I take these poor children as my own and become their beloved mother.”
“Don’t give me that!” Sanemi spat. “What kind of mother are you? You call this caring?”
His roar roused the half-dead Demon Slayer, who braced himself on his elbows and looked blearily at Sanemi. A faint moan escaped his lips.
“You …” Sanemi remembered the young man’s face from his Final Selection. His name was Uraga. He’d been strong and hearty.
“Shinazugawa,” Uraga whispered, barely making a sound. His windpipe was crushed. “H … Help … me …” An arm as skinny as a twig reached out lifelessly.
At this, the kindly expression slid from the demon’s face. She marched over to Uraga and raised a hand, baring her sharp nails. Before her claws could reach Uraga’s throat, Sanemi pulled him away. Uraga’s body was shockingly light.
As Sanemi set Uraga down in a spot away from the demon’s grasp, Uraga clutched at Sanemi’s uniform with a burst of strength. “My … girlfriend … waiting for me,” he groaned. “Please. I don’t. Want to … die. Don’t want...”
Sanemi remembered Uraga saying he’d never gotten along with his parents, his mother in particular. Despite that, he’d dreamed of starting a family of his own as soon as he could.
Sanemi gritted his teeth. In his condition, even if Uraga could get immediate medical treatment, he had perhaps a fifty-fifty chance of survival.
“H … elp … me …” the other Demon Slayer groaned again.
“It’s okay, Uraga. Don’t talk.” Reluctantly, Sanemi let go of the boy’s hand.
“So you’ve abandoned your mother, then?” the demon said in a flat voice. She looked at Uraga with icy eyes. “Just like her. Honestly, I have such ungrateful children. All the time I spend on you, and for what? Such a bother. Well, if you’re going to betray me, you can get out of my sight this instant. There’s no point in you being alive anymore. I don’t want you. Go ahead and die.”
Sanemi glared at her. “What are you rattling on about?”