Kanamori had been trying to calm Haganezuka—
But the moment he turned around and saw the blade he had just forged being clang-clang-clanged into a jagged disaster full of chips—
He exploded.
"Ahhh! You brat! What are you doing?! I'll kill you! I'll kill you!"
Meanwhile, Inosuke stood there proudly, holding up his "masterpiece," completely satisfied with the notches he had hammered into his brand-new sword.
Tanjiro hurriedly wrapped his arms around the furious Kanamori.
"Please calm down! Please calm down!"
At least Haganezuka, watching from the side, seemed slightly comforted.
My sword wasn't treated like that.
Aoyama finally stepped forward, unable to watch any longer.
Without a word—
He punched Inosuke squarely in the boar mask.
Thud—
Inosuke collapsed instantly.
Again.
Aoyama dusted off his hands and smiled mildly.
"Problem solved."
Kanamori, staring at the unconscious boy on the ground, gradually cooled down. He couldn't actually kill him anyway. Grumbling, he packed his things and prepared to leave.
As Haganezuka passed by Aoyama, he suddenly grabbed his hand tightly.
"You must cherish the sword I forged."
Then he shot Tanjiro one last furious look and hurried after Kanamori.
Tanjiro bowed over and over, apologizing as the two swordsmiths disappeared into the distance.
When they were finally out of sight, he turned around wearily—
Only to find Aoyama gone.
Inosuke was still sprawled face-down.
Tanjiro sighed.
"…Guess I'll carry him again."
Recently, there had been talk everywhere about the Summer Festival and Fireworks Night.
The Kakushi had even prepared yukata for everyone to wear to the shrine fair.
That evening, under the rising moon—
Nezuko finally opened her soft pink eyes.
"Ha! Nezuko, you're awake."
Aoyama, who had been sitting beside her the entire time, immediately brightened.
A pink yukata patterned with cherry blossoms rested neatly beside the bed.
Nezuko blinked, looking around the quiet room.
Only the two of them were there.
"Mm?"
"Everyone else went to the festival," Aoyama said gently, patting her head. "I waited for you so we could go together."
The moment Zenitsu heard about the festival—about streets filled with girls in beautiful yukata—he had dragged Tanjiro and Inosuke out immediately, one under each arm.
Nezuko in her new yukata—
Adorable didn't even begin to describe it.
Cute was justice.
Cute was truth.
As Aoyama walked through the lively festival holding her hand, people who passed by seemed to fade into the background.
The shrine grounds were packed.
Game stalls. Food vendors. Laughter everywhere.
Young girls held bright red candied apples while crouching beside goldfish scooping stalls, urging their boyfriends to catch one for them.
The tools were simple—thin paper stretched across a small frame.
Too much force, and it tore instantly.
The stall owner cheerfully handed out scoops.
"Sir! Miss! Try goldfish scooping! Win one for your cute lady!"
Nezuko stopped.
She pointed at the fish swimming in the basin.
"Mm!"
"You want to try?" Aoyama asked, bending slightly.
"Mm!"
Her eyes sparkled.
The owner immediately handed them a scoop.
"Go ahead! It's easy!"
Nezuko crouched down seriously, staring at the fish.
She struck—
Too hard.
The paper tore immediately.
"Mm!"
She puffed up her pink cheeks and looked up at Aoyama.
He chuckled and handed her his scoop.
"Try again."
The stall owner's smile widened.
Jackpot.
"Please pay first," he said eagerly.
Aoyama casually pulled out a large bill and placed it in the man's hand.
"No need to settle until she catches one."
Money wasn't an issue.
As a Demon Slayer, he received mission rewards.
And the system provided additional funds.
Low-key wealthy.
At Nezuko's side, broken scoops piled higher and higher.
The stall owner happily handed her new ones, offering "helpful tips" with a grin that never faded.
Meanwhile, Aoyama's gaze subtly sharpened.
For a brief moment—
He thought he smelled demon scent.
But it vanished just as quickly.
"Slowly, slowly—ah, what a pity, it broke again! Here, try another."
Nezuko's frustration grew.
"Mm!"
Her eyes burned with determination.
She was going to win.
Aoyama crouched beside her and gently poked her puffed cheek.
"I'll show you."
He placed his hand over hers.
Together, they lowered the scoop slowly into the water.
Barely a ripple formed.
They followed the fish's movement—
Carefully.
Steadily.
The scoop slid beneath the goldfish.
Slowly lifted—
Success.
"Mm! Mm!"
Her face lit up instantly.
The stall owner handed them a water bag for the fish.
"Thank you."
Aoyama accepted it—
And froze slightly.
That faint demon scent—
It appeared again.
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