The three kids had already been staying at Inosuke's home for many days.
For Zenitsu, it was nothing short of ascending from hell straight into paradise.
"An angel! She's absolutely an angel!"
Zenitsu clutched the wisteria cakes Kotoha had just made, moved to tears and snot alike.
He dropped to his knees and kowtowed fervently toward Kotoha, who was humming off-key while sewing clothes.
"Auntie Kotoha! Do you need a godson?! I'll be filial together with Big Bro! My grandpa beats me, but he always says I'm a very dutiful child!"
Kotoha covered her mouth and laughed, her brows curved gently, her warmth like spring water.
"Zenitsu-kun really knows how to joke. Go on and eat—there's more if you want.
And our home will always welcome you. You're the first friends Inosuke has ever brought back."
"Waaah… it's so good!" Zenitsu cried as he stuffed his mouth.
"It's ten thousand times better than the bitter medicine at the Butterfly Estate! Is this the Pure Land of Bliss?! I don't want to leave! I want to die here!"
Nearby, Tanjiro was helping wipe the floor. Even as a guest, he simply couldn't stay idle.
"Inosuke's mother is truly very gentle.
And her scent is so clean—without the slightest impurity. To remain this pure in a place full of demons… that's incredible."
As Tanjiro wiped the floor, his nose twitched slightly.
As for the master of this place—
"Oh my, Tanjiro-kun, chores like mopping should be left to the believers."
Doma was hanging upside down from a roof beam, pale hair cascading down until it nearly brushed Tanjiro's face. He smiled as he lazily waved his golden fan.
"Since you're here, have you considered joining the cult? If you do, I can let you and your sister stay together forever—no aging, no sickness, no death.
You'll just be a little afraid of wisteria. But you'll get used to it."
Tanjiro straightened up and looked seriously at the upside-down Doma, then bowed politely.
"Thank you for the offer! But no, thank you! I'll definitely let my sister live under the sun again someday!"
"What a pity," Doma said lightly, flipping down to the ground.
"Young people these days really don't understand the benefits of eternity.
But it's fine—as long as you're Inosuke's friends, you're always welcome to eat here."
As he spoke, Doma somehow produced a plate of sliced watermelon and enthusiastically shoved it into Tanjiro's hands.
"Eat, eat. I chilled it with my Blood Demon Art. It's very sweet."
Looking at Doma's unassuming, even slightly simple demeanor, Tanjiro and Zenitsu exchanged a glance, both seeing confusion in each other's eyes.
This Upper Rank Two demon—aside from being a demon—seemed unexpectedly like a hospitable uncle?
Not only did he not eat people, he kept feeding them, like a worried father afraid his kids might go hungry.
Happy times were always short-lived. Night soon fell.
Inosuke led the two of them sneaking off to a pavilion in the back mountains—his secret base, a place even Doma rarely visited.
"Look. What's this?"
With a mysterious grin, Inosuke pulled out an exquisitely crafted wine jar from beneath the base of an ice lotus.
"That bastard Takahashi gave this to me to suck up—said it's fifty-year-old Daughter's Red.
The old man wouldn't let me drink it, said underage drinking stunts growth. Tch. Like I'd be afraid of a little wine."
"Wine?!" Zenitsu's eyes lit up.
"Good stuff! After getting yelled at by Kanzaki Aoi every day at the Butterfly Estate, I've wanted a drink forever!"
"Th-this isn't very good, is it…?" Tanjiro hesitated.
"We're not old enough…"
"Enough, Gonpachiro." Inosuke slapped off the clay seal. A rich, mellow aroma instantly spread through the air.
"Today's a celebration of surviving disaster. We drink. Big Bro says so."
Three porcelain bowls were filled.
Moonlight spilled over the surface of the wine, rippling gently.
"Cheers!"
After a few bowls, the initial stiffness completely vanished.
Zenitsu hugged a pillar and cried about his dreams of getting married.
Tanjiro, cheeks flushed, started talking about his siblings back home.
Only Inosuke grew unusually quiet.
He held his bowl, staring at the moon reflected in the wine, eyes unfocused.
"Hey… Stripe-itsu. Gonpachiro."
Inosuke suddenly spoke, his voice hoarse, stripped of its usual arrogance.
"Do you think… that old man—Doma—is a good demon?"
Zenitsu hiccupped and said hazily,
"He's kinda scary-looking, and his aura's terrifying, but he's really good to your mom.
And he's taken great care of us these days, even gave us watermelon.
Feels like… a not-very-proper but still good demon?"
"A good demon…"
Inosuke laughed bitterly and downed his wine in one gulp.
Lowering his head, he clenched the bowl so hard his knuckles turned white.
"Do you know why the Insect Hashira at the Butterfly Estate always smiles with knives hidden inside?"
Tanjiro and Zenitsu froze, sobering up halfway.
"Because her older sister—the former Flower Hashira—was killed by my dad."
Inosuke's voice trembled, heavy with pain long suppressed.
"I was eleven that year. That night, the old man said he was going out for a walk.
I was busy practicing my Breathing, didn't think much of it. When he came back… he reeked of blood."
"He smiled and told me he'd met a very gentle woman. Too fragile, though—she died before he even got to eat her."
"Back then… I couldn't do anything."
"I just wanted to obey him first… so my mom could live."
Inosuke suddenly looked up. His emerald eyes were full of tears, shattered under the moonlight.
"I knew what would happen—but I couldn't stop it. I grew up eating his food, training with his techniques, spending his money…"
"I'm a bastard, aren't I?"
"I want to atone for him. I want to save Rengoku, save more people, repay the debts.
But… every time I see him smile at Kotoha, see him act like a stupid dad stuffing money into my hands, I…"
Inosuke covered his face, his voice breaking.
"I don't know what I'm supposed to do anymore."
The pavilion fell into dead silence.
Only the rustling of leaves in the wind remained.
Then, suddenly, a warm hand landed on Inosuke's shoulder.
"Inosuke… you're not a clown."
Tanjiro's voice was gentle as always, yet carried unwavering strength. His dark red eyes looked straight at Inosuke, as if seeing through to the deepest fragility in his heart.
"You're in pain. This pain tastes more bitter than any wound."
"But precisely because you feel this pain, it proves your heart is kind.
You didn't condone evil just because he's your father, and you didn't deny his care just because he's a demon."
"You're trying to find a balance. That alone is already incredible."
"Yeah, Big Bro!" Zenitsu chimed in, still sniffling, but his eyes serious.
"You saved Rengoku! You saved us so many times! You know right from wrong!
You didn't blindly side with him just because he's your dad!"
"You might be our big brother, but you're still just a normal person!"
"We're in this together!"
Zenitsu thumped his chest.
"From now on, we'll help you shoulder these messed-up problems! Worst case—worst case…
we'll atone together!"
"Pfft."
Inosuke laughed despite himself, tears still clinging to his lashes.
He wiped his face, took a deep breath, and his gaze sharpened once more.
"That's right. I'm Inosuke—the Young Lord of the Eternal Paradise Cult."
He stood up, planting one foot on the railing, swearing to the moon.
"If I can't be a pure hero, then I'll be the most perfect villain!"
"I'll take control of the cult! I'll strip that old man of real power!
I'll make it so the only thing he can do is comb Kotoha's hair!"
"I'll make him spend his entire life as a tool—used by me, his filial son!"
"Now that's the spirit!" Zenitsu raised his bowl.
"Cheers!"
"Cheers!"
On the pavilion roof above them—
Doma hung upside down in the shadows like a giant bat. His golden fan was closed, resting against his chin. For the first time, there was no smile in his rainbow-colored eyes.
He'd heard everything.
Inosuke's confession.
Inosuke's struggle.
And the old debt tied to himself.
"Oh dear…"
Doma sighed softly to himself.
"So little Inosuke has been troubled by things like this all along."
"How pitiful. Just a child, yet burdened with such tedious moral shackles."
He wasn't angry that Inosuke wanted to hollow him out or use him. Instead, he felt something called apology.
Of course, not for killing the Flower Hashira—eating humans was as natural to him as humans eating pork.
What he felt sorry for was this: his actions had troubled his beloved child.
"That won't do."
Doma flipped upright, gazing at the now-lively figure below, his eyes growing deep and dark.
"If Inosuke isn't happy, then this home isn't perfect."
"Since that child cares so much about justice and right and wrong… I'll restrain myself a little from now on.
Besides, Kotoha's cooking has been quite good lately."
But—
Doma suddenly frowned.
Since he was being so reasonable and willing to compromise, where should this nameless anger go?
Inosuke was injured because of Akaza.
Inosuke's turmoil ultimately stemmed from Akaza's chain reaction.
"Then it really is that striped basketball's fault."
Doma decisively dumped all the blame onto Akaza.
"Once Inosuke leaves, I'll definitely go have a nice chat with him."
"To make my Inosuke this sad… Akaza, your sins truly run deep."
At the same time.
Thousands of miles away, deep in a mountain forest—
"Achoo!"
Akaza, who was violently beating the living hell out of a thousand-year-old tree, suddenly sneezed hard.
"Who?!"
He scanned the surroundings warily. Aside from shattered trunks reduced to splinters, there was nothing.
Annoyed, he sat down on a rock, staring at his own hands.
Ever since being driven back by Inosuke and Rengoku together, his mind had been in chaos.
That kid from the Eternal Paradise Cult—
That look in his eyes, risking everything to protect his companions—
Why did it feel so familiar?
"Protect…"
Akaza clutched his head. Something deep inside seemed to be cracking.
"I'm a demon. A demon who pursues the pinnacle of martial arts…
I don't need things like protecting the weak…"
"But… why?"
"Why can't I remember… who I wanted to protect… before becoming a demon?"
Under the moonlight, Upper Rank Three looked incomparably lonely and lost.
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