When Li Ke and the group finally made their way back, they noticed a stark difference. The once bustling and lively Demon Slayer Corps headquarters had grown incredibly quiet and empty. Dark patches of dried blood still stained sections of the dirt paths. However, the very millisecond the crowd realized the main strike force had returned safely, the entire estate erupted into a boiling frenzy of pure emotion.
"We won!"
"It's finally over!!"
"Brother! Mother! The world is finally back to normal!"
Countless roars of victory and sobbing cheers echoed through the courtyard. At first, the remaining low-ranking slayers couldn't fully believe the news. But once confirmation poured in that the monsters across all territories had suddenly vanished out of thin air, and they saw Li Ke's group standing before them, the reality finally set in. This sudden, apocalyptic nightmare had truly come to an end.
Standing right at the main entrance was Amane Ubuyashiki, dressed in her pristine white garments. She quietly watched the returning Pillars. Seeing that not a single member was missing from their ranks, a beautiful, genuine smile finally graced her elegant face.
"Everyone, welcome back."
Li Ke smiled and nodded in return, happily stepping forward to soak in the roaring cheers of the crowd.
After the cheers died down and the banquet wound to its hazy, drunken close, most of the Pillars lay sprawled across the tatami—some snoring softly, others giggling in slurred whispers. The moonlight spilled through the open shoji screens, painting silver streaks across flushed faces and disheveled kimono.
Li Ke remained perfectly sober, his enhanced physiology turning alcohol into nothing more than flavored water. Beside him, Ubuyashiki Amane knelt gracefully in her pristine white kimono, pouring sake with the calm, practiced movements of a woman who had hosted countless nights like this. Yet tonight her gaze kept drifting to him—lingering, searching.
She leaned closer, voice barely above a breath. "Lord Li Ke… you're going to leave soon, aren't you?"
He didn't deny it. With the world fragment secured, departure was now only a thought away. "Yes. But I'll come back. To you, it might feel like no time has passed at all."
He took another slow sip, eyes sliding once more toward the far corner where Mitsuri leaned sleepily against a pillar, her generous breasts straining the loosened collar of her uniform, mochi still clutched loosely in her fingers. Nearby, Nezuko—shrunken back to child-size from stolen sake—was pinned beneath the equally tipsy Butterfly sisters. Shinobu and Kanae's soft, heavy chests pressed against the little demon's cheeks in drunken affection, creating a sight so unfairly tempting that Li Ke's cock gave an involuntary twitch beneath his fundoshi.
He had never sampled the Butterfly sisters together. The thought alone sent heat curling low in his belly.
Amane followed his gaze, then let out a soft, knowing laugh. "We truly don't know how to thank you properly…"
She tucked a strand of snow-white hair behind her ear. In the moonlight her skin looked almost luminous, the gentle swell of her breasts rising and falling with each measured breath. Then, very deliberately, she murmured:
"If you don't mind… allow me to serve you a little."
Before he could respond, she shifted. With practiced elegance she slid forward, lowering herself until her upper body draped across his lap. The low tea table conveniently blocked the view from anyone who might stir. Her long white hair spilled like silk over his thighs.
Li Ke felt the moment her warm breath ghosted over his exposed length.
Because he had worn the men's kimono loosely—no fundoshi beneath—the heavy fabric had parted easily when he sat cross-legged. Now his cock, already half-hard from watching the drunken tableau of breasts and flushed skin, stood proud and thick in the cool night air.
Amane made a soft, appreciative sound in her throat. Then her small, cool hand curled around the base, steadying him as her lips brushed the sensitive head in a feather-light kiss.
The first touch of her tongue was slow—deliberate. She traced the thick ridge beneath the glans with the flat of her tongue, tasting the faint salt of his skin, then swirled around the slit to collect the bead of precum already welling there. Li Ke exhaled sharply through his nose, fingers tightening in her hair.
She hummed in response, the vibration traveling straight down his shaft.
Her technique was exquisite—years of quiet maturity and unspoken experience distilled into every movement. She took him deeper inch by inch, lips stretching wide around his girth, cheeks hollowing as she sucked with steady, rhythmic pressure. Wet heat enveloped him completely; the roof of her mouth dragged along the upper side while her tongue cradled the underside, stroking in lazy, sensual waves.
Li Ke let his head tip back, staring up at the moon while one hand stroked through her silky white hair, the other drifted down the graceful line of her spine. When he reached the generous curve of her ass—plump, soft, and impossibly full even through the layers of kimono—he gave an experimental squeeze.
Amane moaned around his cock.
The sound was low, throaty, utterly shameless. Her hips rocked instinctively, pushing back into his palm, silently begging for more. He kneaded the flesh harder, fingers sinking deep into the yielding plushness. This was no slender girl's backside—this was the body of a woman who had borne children, whose hips had widened to cradle life, whose curves carried the soft weight of experience. Every squeeze made her tremble; he could feel the heat radiating between her thighs even through the fabric.
She pulled off him with a wet pop, just long enough to whisper against the slick head:
"Call me Amane."
Then she dove back down, taking him to the root this time. Her throat fluttered around him, muscles rippling in a practiced swallow that milked the entire length. Li Ke hissed, hips jerking upward involuntarily.
She rewarded him by hollowing her cheeks harder, sucking with deliberate force while her tongue flicked rapidly against the sensitive frenulum. At the same time she reached up, cupping his balls in her soft palm, rolling them gently, tugging just enough to send sparks racing up his spine.
Li Ke's hand slid beneath the hem of her kimono. Fabric parted easily; he found smooth, fever-hot skin. Higher still—until his fingers brushed the drenched cleft between her thighs. She was soaked. Slick arousal coated her swollen folds, dripping down the insides of her legs. When he pressed two fingers inside her, she clenched hard around him, a muffled whimper vibrating straight through his cock.
He crooked his fingers, stroking the spongy spot that made her whole body jerk. Her hips rolled shamelessly against his hand now, grinding her clit against the heel of his palm while she bobbed faster on his length.
The danger of it—the banquet barely ten paces away, friends and comrades sleeping or stirring—only sharpened the pleasure. Any moment someone could wake, could turn their head and see the Lady of the Demon Slayer Corps on her knees, mouth stuffed full of him, ass raised and dripping while his fingers fucked steadily into her.
Amane's movements grew frantic. She hollowed her cheeks, sucked hard, then—without warning—grazed her teeth very lightly along the shaft.
The sudden edge of danger made Li Ke's vision white out for a second. Pleasure spiked so sharply he nearly came right then. Instead he gripped her hair tighter, forcing her down until her nose pressed against his pubic bone, holding her there while her throat convulsed around him in helpless little swallows.
"Fuck… Amane—"
He came with a low, guttural groan.
Hot spurts flooded her mouth. She didn't flinch, didn't pull away. Instead she swallowed greedily, throat working in rhythmic pulses, milking every last drop while her tongue kept stroking the underside, drawing out his orgasm until his thighs trembled.
When he finally released her hair, she pulled off slowly, lips glistening, a thin strand of saliva and semen connecting her tongue to his still-twitching cock. She licked her lips clean with deliberate slowness, eyes locked on his.
Then she glanced down.
His length—far from softening—stood rigid again, flushed dark and glistening with her spit.
Amane let out a soft, breathless laugh. Her voice was husky, wrecked from deep-throating him.
"Lord Li Ke… there's a resting room just next door."
She wrapped her small hand around his slick shaft, giving it a slow, teasing pump.
"Shall I… continue serving you properly?"
Amane's hand remained wrapped around his still-throbbing length, fingers slick from her own saliva and his release. She gave him one slow, deliberate stroke—thumb circling the sensitive head—before rising gracefully to her feet. Her white kimono had slipped open at the front during her earlier efforts; the deep V now exposed the inner curves of her full breasts, pale skin flushed pink from arousal and exertion. A thin sheen of sweat glistened along her collarbone.
Without a word she extended her free hand to him.
Li Ke took it, letting her guide him up. His cock bobbed heavily with each step, still glistening and rigid, the cool night air doing nothing to soften it. Amane walked ahead, hips swaying with that unconscious, mature grace that only came from years of carrying both duty and children. She led him past the sprawl of sleeping bodies—past Mitsuri's soft snores, past Shinobu and Kanae still curled around a tiny, peacefully drunken Nezuko—until they reached a narrow sliding door at the far end of the engawa.
She pushed it open with her shoulder.
The resting room beyond was small and intimate: tatami flooring, a low futon already laid out (perhaps prepared earlier for drunken guests), a single paper lantern casting warm amber light. The shoji screens were half-closed, letting slivers of moonlight stripe the floor. The faint scent of cedar and lingering incense hung in the air.
Amane turned to face him the moment the door whispered shut behind them. Her eyes—usually so calm and composed—now burned with quiet hunger.
She reached up and tugged the obi sash loose in one smooth motion. The white kimono parted completely, sliding off her shoulders to pool at her elbows and waist like fallen snow. Beneath it she wore only a simple white fundoshi, already soaked through at the crotch, the thin cotton clinging transparently to her swollen folds. Her breasts—full, heavy, crowned with dark rosy nipples already pebbled tight—swayed gently with her breathing. Stretch marks like faint silver threads decorated the undersides, beautiful badges of the life she had given.
Li Ke's mouth went dry.
Amane stepped out of the fallen kimono entirely, then sank to her knees once more—this time not to serve with her mouth, but to present herself. She turned slowly, lowering her chest to the futon so her back arched deeply, ass raised high. The position spread her thighs just enough to show how drenched she truly was: arousal had trickled down the insides of her legs in glistening trails. She reached back with both hands, fingers hooking into the sides of her fundoshi and pulling the fabric aside, exposing everything.
Her pussy was plump and flushed, outer lips swollen, inner folds glistening dark pink and fluttering with need. A bead of slick slid slowly down from her entrance and dripped onto the tatami.
"Please…" Her voice was soft, almost reverent. "Use me however you wish, Li Ke-sama. Let me thank you properly."
He didn't need further invitation.
Li Ke knelt behind her, gripping the generous flesh of her hips. His thumbs spread her open wider, exposing the tight little pucker above her dripping slit. He dragged the head of his cock through her folds—once, twice—coating himself in her wetness until the thick shaft shone. Each pass made her whimper and rock back, trying to impale herself.
When he finally notched himself at her entrance and pushed in—slow, inexorable—she gasped, head dropping forward, white hair spilling across the futon like silk.
He sank to the hilt in one long stroke.
She was impossibly hot inside, walls rippling and clenching around him like a living thing. Years of experience had made her body soft yet responsive; she took him effortlessly, yet every inch stretched her deliciously. When his hips met the plush cushion of her ass, she let out a long, trembling moan.
Li Ke stayed buried deep for a moment, simply savoring the feel of her—then began to move.
He started with long, deliberate thrusts: pulling almost all the way out until just the head remained, then driving back in with controlled force. Each plunge made her breasts swing heavily beneath her, nipples brushing the futon. Her ass jiggled with every impact, the sound of skin meeting skin filling the small room alongside her increasingly desperate whimpers.
"Harder…" she breathed after a dozen strokes. "Please… I can take it."
He obliged.
His pace quickened, hips snapping forward with real power now. The wet slap of their bodies echoed; her slick coated his balls, dripping down to soak the tatami beneath them. One hand slid up her spine to grip her white hair, using it like reins to arch her back further. The other reached beneath to find her clit—swollen, slippery—and rolled it in firm circles.
Amane cried out, muffled against the bedding. Her inner walls clamped down hard, fluttering wildly as the first orgasm ripped through her. She shook, thighs trembling, but he didn't slow. Instead he fucked her through it—deep, punishing strokes that prolonged the spasms until tears of overstimulation pricked her eyes.
When the aftershocks faded, he pulled out abruptly.
She whined at the emptiness—then gasped as he flipped her onto her back.
Now she lay spread beneath him: legs parted wide, knees bent, white hair fanned across the futon like a halo. Her breasts heaved with every ragged breath; her pussy gaped slightly from his earlier use, flushed and dripping.
Li Ke hooked her legs over his shoulders, folding her nearly in half. The new angle let him sink even deeper. He braced one hand beside her head, the other gripping her thigh, and drove into her with short, brutal thrusts that hit her cervix on every stroke.
Amane's hands flew to his shoulders, nails digging in. Her mouth fell open in a silent scream as another climax built almost immediately.
"Look at me," he growled.
Her eyes fluttered open—glassy, wrecked, utterly devoted.
He kissed her then—hard, claiming—tongue plunging into her mouth in time with his hips. She kissed back desperately, moaning into him, legs tightening around his neck.
When he felt her start to convulse again—walls milking him frantically—he let go.
Hot spurts flooded her depths, pulse after pulse, filling her until it leaked out around his shaft and trickled down the cleft of her ass. She came with him this time, back arching off the futon, a broken cry muffled against his lips.
They stayed locked together for long moments, breathing hard, bodies slick with sweat and release.
Finally he eased out, watching his seed spill slowly from her well-fucked pussy. Amane reached down with trembling fingers, gathering some of the thick white fluid and bringing it to her lips—tasting him with the same slow reverence she had shown earlier.
She smiled up at him, soft and sated.
"Stay… just a little longer," she whispered. "Before you leave this world again."
Li Ke leaned down, brushing sweat-damp hair from her forehead.
"I will," he promised.
And for the first time that night, time didn't feel like it was slipping away.