The crisp black kimono with long sleeves and beautiful patterns would illuminate his little sister’s pale skin; the gorgeous golden-orchid obi belt might have made her, a natural worrier, frown and say it was too extravagant. Would she shed tears beneath her ebony hair tied up with ornaments in the elaborate bunkin-shimada style? Tears not of sadness, but of great joy.
My little sister, kinder than anyone in this world. A girl who hasn’t lost the warmth she had as a person, even now, as a demon.
I pray I can make you happy, the happiest girl in the world.
“A celebration?” he asked.
“Yes,” Hisa said, and her eyes, already narrow as threads, narrowed even further with her broad smile. “Happily, one of the village’s girls is to wed.”
A family crest adorned with a wisteria flower was proof that the household would spare no effort in the service of the Demon Slayer Corps, all free of charge. Members of such families never forgot their debt to members of this corps for saving them, and so they repaid them for their services. Thus, Demon Slayers injured in the line of duty sought out families with the wisteria crest.
Hisa’s was just one such home.
That day marked ten days since Tanjiro, Zenitsu, Inosuke, and Nezuko had arrived at the house to rest and heal after a difficult fight. The demon Nezuko slept in a box of Kirikumo Cedar during the day, and the people of the household generally only had contact with the three boys. Thanks to meals bursting with all the mountain’s bounty, fluffy futons, soft kimono, and heartfelt hospitality, the three of them and their broken ribs were recovering quite happily.
“She’ll be leaving us for the home of a prominent man in the town closest to our village,” Hisa told them.
“That is definitely worth a celebration. Congratulations to her,” Tanjiro said from the bottom of his heart.
Hisa grinned and continued. “If you don’t mind, I’d love it if you Demon Slayers were to celebrate with us.”
“What? Us?”
“Of course,” Hisa said. “That is, if you’re well enough to join us. I’d hate for you to try to do too much too soon.”
“No, no, we’re all fine now.” Tanjiro hesitated. “But are you really sure it’s all right for us to go?”
Hisa nodded, a cloud of white hair bobbing on her head. According to her, there was to be an informal celebration with friends and family in the village that evening, and then the bride would make her formal departure the following afternoon. She would head to the neighboring town, where there would be a big ceremony at her new husband’s house.
Any girl on the eve of her marriage was even lovelier than usual, her features full of hope, and this unusually good match had the villagers all the more excited.
“Everyone would be delighted if the Demon Slayers celebrated this joy with us,” Hisa said.
“In that case, we happily accept.” Tanjiro looked over his shoulder. “Right, Zenitsu? Inosuke?”
“Yeah, su—I mean, of course,” Zenitsu responded, rubbing his hands together. “Unlike a demon hunt, there’s absolutely nothing scary about a celebration like this. We’ll get to eat delicious food and have a look at the beautiful young bride, so it’s two birds with one stone. Er, but no matter how cute she is, she’ll never be a match for Nezuko, you know? No, I know that. At any rate, I’m quite devoted to Nezuko. Please don’t make any mistake about that.”
“What’s a celebration?” Inosuke, on the other hand, headbutted Tanjiro’s side as he chomped away on the manju bun he held in both hands.
Ow …
Tanjiro frowned.
It was disturbing. Or rather, Zenitsu was disturbing.
This kind of thing was now—or rather, had become over the last few days—a thoroughly established ritual. The second Zenitsu found out that Nezuko was Tanjiro’s little sister, his attitude had become excessively ingratiating.
With Inosuke, it was the headbutt. He likely just wanted to interact with people in his own special way, but he whipped out this headbutt whenever and wherever he got the chance. Honestly, it exhausted Tanjiro. His ribs would never heal with this going on.
And it was disturbing. Zenitsu was disturbing.
“Why do you say such creepy things, Zenitsu? Quit speaking so rudely of the bride. And you, Inosuke. This celebration is to honor the couple getting married. Ow! Inosuke, behave. Stop headbutting me.”
He complained to his friends, gently, and turned back to Hisa, bowing before her.
“We would be delighted to join the celebration. Thank you so much.”
“Well then, I am also delighted.” The elderly woman lowered her head so far that her forehead nearly touched the tatami mat covering the floor. “Tonight, let us feast at the house.”
A broad smile spread across her face.
“I expect that you young people would prefer meat, of course. Unfortunately, we poor villagers are not so familiar with such fashionable dishes.”
“No, you’ve done so much for us already!” Tanjiro hurriedly waved his hands in protest and received an abrupt shove.
“That!” Inosuke shouted. “The thing you always make! Make that, lady! It’s gotta be that!”
“Come on! Inosuke!” Tanjiro chided him.
“All you’re saying is ‘that.’ You have to actually say what it is,” Zenitsu snapped.
However, Hisa nodded in understanding. “You wish to have that, then. Tempura, yes? With the little coat?”
“Yaah!”
“Yes, yes,” she reassured him. “We’ll fry up a great deal of that. Do you have enough tea cakes?”
“No!” Inosuke barked. “So go and bring the thing! Got it? That thing!”
“Yes, yes. Mochi chips, hm? I’ll bring some right away,” Hisa responded. Unperturbed, she left the room.