48 Demon Slayer: Floating Comment

"Brother... Brother?"

The door to the treatment room at the Butterfly Mansion cracked open just slightly. A boy with short black hair and two deep scars under his eyes locked gazes with Genya, who stood at the entrance.

"Is that Gen—ah, ow!" The boy was suddenly interrupted, seemingly kicked hard from inside. Quickly recovering, he curved his lips into a playful smile. "Hey, kiddo. Who are you looking for?"

Genya's large eyes narrowed slightly, his expression unchanging. "Is Sanemi Shinazugawa here?"

The boy didn't answer directly. Instead, he waved him off with feigned nonchalance.

"This is a top-secret place, kid. You'd better leave before someone catches you snooping around."

Genya's piercing stare remained steady, refusing to let him off.

"Is Sanemi Shinazugawa here? He's a Hashira of the Demon Slayer Corps."

The boy's smirk faltered, and he sighed with exaggerated resignation, his brows twisting in mock helplessness. He disappeared behind the door for a moment, only to reappear seconds later.

"Sanemi said he's not here," he sang in an almost cheerful tone.

Their eyes met again, Genya's piercing and the boy's evasive.

"Masachika, you idiot!" An enraged growl burst from within the room. Moments later, a spiky-haired silver-haired man stormed out, grabbing the boy by the collar. "Do you even know how to speak?!"

"Brother!" Genya's stern expression softened into mild exasperation. "You're injured again, aren't you?"

Masachika chuckled nervously, lightly patting Sanemi's arm as if to soothe him.

"You know I can't lie, Sanemi. Cut me some slack, will you?"

Sanemi grumbled, running a hand through his disheveled hair and muttering under his breath.

"It's nothing serious... just a little sparring match with this idiot."

"Hey! That's slander!" Masachika protested.

Sanemi silenced him with a rough hand over his mouth. "Say another word, and I'll smash your head in."

"Hey, I'm your senpai!"

"And I'm a Hashira!"

"Brother!"

Meanwhile, outside the commotion-filled treatment room, Haruto's gaze drifted back to the courtyard, where several young girls bustled about, their movements swift and purposeful. He turned to Kanae with a curious tilt of his head.

"Are they all your Tsuguko?"

(T/N: A Tsuguko is an exceptionally talented Demon Slayer who is designated as the apprentice of one of the Hashira.)

Kanae smiled softly and nodded. "Yes. It doesn't matter where they came from or what their pasts were. Here, they're all part of the Butterfly Mansion."

"You're still holding onto that idea of 'redeeming demons,' aren't you?"

"Of course," Kanae replied, her voice gentle yet unwavering. "Everything I do is to achieve that goal. Lady Tamayo and Yushiro's existence is proof that I'm not alone in this endeavor."

"Tamayo is one of a kind, and Yushiro even more so. He's the only demon in history not created by Muzan's blood. Two demons in over a thousand years—hardly representative," Haruto said skeptically.

Kanae's expression remained serene. "Still, it's a path worth pursuing. Shinobu, the children here, and I—we're all working toward that future."

"And if it means sacrificing yourself?"

"Then I'd have no regrets."

The sunlight caught Kanae's eyes, turning her irises into a brilliant, cherry-blossom pink. Her gaze, filled with unshakable conviction, was so dazzling that Haruto had to look away.

Yoriichi, Rengoku, Kanae…

Haruto chuckled softly, releasing a long sigh. "Maybe you're all right after all."

His misty blue eyes glimmered with faint amusement as if the audience of an invisible world was watching intently.

"Haah... haah..."

Faint, labored breathing interrupted the tranquility of the courtyard. Kanae turned her head toward the sound.

"Is that Shinobu?"

Peeking cautiously through the doorway was a young girl with a ponytail and baby-fat cheeks.

"Kanae-san, please help!"

"Ah, Kanao. Where's Shinobu?"

From behind Kanao came the stubborn figure of Shinobu herself, struggling to drag a cherry blossom tree nearly as tall and wide as she was. She huffed and puffed with each step, her small frame trembling under the strain.

Even two years later, Shinobu's petite figure hadn't grown much. She probably wouldn't reach 160 centimeters even as an adult. However, her stubbornness had grown by leaps and bounds, as had her penchant for sly little schemes. The girl was well on her way to becoming a full-fledged tsundere.

"Oh my, Shinobu. That looks heavy." Kanae moved to help, her voice tinged with concern.

Exhausted and pale, Shinobu had been about to nod when she noticed a certain silver-haired swordsman watching her.

"Oh my, Shinobu. That looks heavy," he repeated, a mischievous grin tugging at his lips.

"It's not heavy at all!" she declared, biting her bloodless lip and lifting her chin in defiance.

"Haruto-san, when did you get here?"

Haruto walked over, effortlessly hoisting the tree onto his shoulder.

"All right, go get yourself some water... But, uh, why did you buy a tree this big?"

Kanao was already rushing to fetch water, her face blank as she handed it to Shinobu.

"Thank you, Kanao," Shinobu murmured, sipping slowly as she eyed Haruto carrying the tree without breaking a sweat.

"Oh, it's just... mentioned wanting a cherry blossom tree in the courtyard," she said, her gaze shifting guiltily toward Kanae, who was barely suppressing her laughter.

"She probably meant..." Haruto gestured with his fingers, forming a tiny circle. "A sapling, something like this size. Instead, you brought back this."

"..." Shinobu looked away, mumbling, "She said we should name the tree 'Victory.' When it blooms, it'll mark the day we defeat Muzan."

"So you thought bringing back a full-grown tree would make victory come sooner?" Haruto blinked, then gave her a thumbs-up. "Shinobu, you're a genius."

Kanae couldn't hold back her laughter anymore, her shoulders shaking as she turned away.

Shinobu lowered her gaze. "Haruto-san, I can handle it myself."

"Are you upset?"

"No."

"You called me 'Haruto-san.' You're definitely upset."

"I said I'm not upset."

"I really think you're brilliant, though."

"..."

Kanae and Haruto exchanged an amused glance before they leaned closer, their faces hovering just inches from Shinobu's.

"Are you mad?"

"Grrrr..." Grinding her teeth, Shinobu finally snapped, landing a flurry of punches on Haruto's side. "If you knew, why'd you ask?!"

Despite her efforts, Haruto remained unscathed, grinning as he asked Kanao for a spade to plant the tree.

As for Genya... well, he was likely too busy playing mother hen to his scarred brother, fussing over Sanemi's injuries with the intensity of a worried parent.

Shinobu flexed her aching wrists, baffled by Haruto's unyielding muscles. Was he made of iron?

Poor future wife, she thought. Hugging him at night would feel like cuddling a steel rod.

Then again, at eighteen, with no romantic prospects in sight, who knew if he'd even find a wife.

She huffed at him planting the tree, leaving Kanae wondering what had her little sister so irritated this time.