There was no black pork at home, of course. Sakonji Urokodaki patted Haruto's head, tucked his hands into his sleeves, and ran up the mountain like a fluttering blue butterfly.
The way he tucked his hands into his sleeves looked familiar, reminding Haruto of his Master far away in the Swordsmith Village.
His Master also liked to tuck his hands into his sleeves beneath his armpits, though he was nowhere near as light on his feet when he ran.
Near noon, Sabito set up the stove while Giyu prepared the firewood. Makomo used iron tongs to pull a roasted chestnut from the firebox, peeled it, and popped it into Haruto's mouth.
Early-winter chestnuts had a soft, dense texture. Two chestnut trees grew behind the house, and when the season came, their prickly burrs tumbled to the ground.
Some unlucky wild boar hiding in a mountain hollow had met its fate. The blue Haori appeared on the mountain path, its wearer carrying a dark wild boar on his shoulder.
Wild boar actually did not taste particularly good at this time of year.
Before the cold set in, they ate enormous amounts of food to pack themselves with fat, then wintered in sunny, sheltered mountain hollows.
If the boar, dragged unexpectedly from its den and slaughtered, could have seen the faint distaste in Haruto's eyes, it would probably have been furious enough to knock him head over heels.
Sakonji Urokodaki dropped the boar, which must have weighed around three hundred jin, onto the ground and deftly bled it, boiled water, removed its hair, and gutted it.
The lively pork feast left the patient Haruto thoroughly satisfied, but it left Makomo deeply worried.
She was setting out for Mount Fujikasane the next day to take part in the final selection, and her two unreliable senior fellow students had stuffed two pig's trotters into her bundle.
Last year's selection was still fresh in her memory. Sabito had practically killed every demon on the mountain.
Without the Hand Demon standing in her way, the other demons would be no match for Makomo's skills.
"Here."
Before carrying Haruto back to the wooden house, Sabito held a bracelet out to Makomo.
For the first time, the boy did not look the person he was speaking to in the eye. Embarrassment crept up his ears, tinting his earlobes the same peach-pink as his long hair.
Makomo accepted the bracelet. It was made of gleaming, beautiful agate beads strung with blue flowers.
"What are they doing?"
Giyu crouched in front of the stretcher with his arms around his legs, quietly peeking out with half his poker face visible. "What a strange atmosphere."
His voice was hardly quiet. Sabito's ears reddened further, and he quickly turned around. "Come on, let's go."
Haruto stared at Giyu, speechless.
Such a lovely moment, ruined by a single remark from him.
After they saw Makomo off, Haruto suddenly felt that Mount Sagiri had grown quiet.
Sabito and Giyu still had to go up the mountain to train every day, or head out on missions.
Every morning when the sun rose, Sabito wheeled Haruto outside, covered him with a layer of clothing, and draped a towel over his face.
Mr. Urokodaki was not a talkative man. Most of the time, he simply sat there, quietly watching the mist drift through the mountains.
Apparently, he planned to resign from his position as the Water Hashira, just as Shinjuro Rengoku had. He was getting on in years.
"The Demon Slayer Corps has been desperately short of Hashira these past few years," he told Haruto. "A few years ago, it was the Rumble Hashira, Jigoro Kuwajima. After losing a leg, he could only get around with a cane. He uses Thunder Breathing, which shares many similarities with Star Breathing when it comes to speed. You could visit him on Mount Momiji if you have the time."
Visiting anyone would have to wait until Haruto recovered. There was no chance of it while he was still a bandaged wreck lying in bed.
The Kakushi delivered medicine every few days, but when the next delivery was due, two slender figures appeared at the foot of the mountain instead.
Sakonji turned to look. They were two girls who bore some resemblance to each other.
"Excuse me, is this Mr. Takanashi's residence?" They stopped on the mountain path, too frightened by Sakonji Urokodaki's Great Tengu Mask to approach.
"Yes." Sakonji nodded.
"Then, may I ask..."
Kanae Kocho looked around. Apart from the strange old man and the strange creature lying on a bed nearby, she could see no sign of Mr. Takanashi.
Shinobu's palm grew slightly sweaty in her hand. She was nervous.
"..."
The strange old man walked over to the strange creature and lifted the towel off his head-
Mr. Takanashi, who had saved the sisters' lives and was now wrapped up like a mummy, blearily raised his head. "Hmm? Is it time to eat?"
...Well, he looked quite different from the dashing white-haired boy they had met before.
"Ah!" Shinobu Kocho covered her mouth with a quiet gasp. "Mr. Takanashi..."
The white-haired boy was wrapped tightly in bandages. The only exposed skin was on his neck, which was covered in horrifying blue-purple bruises.
Haruto froze for a moment. "What brings you here?"
He clearly remembered the two sisters he had saved in Takinogawa Village over half a month ago, before killing Byōha. The elder sister had a rare pair of pink eyes, while the younger sister's eyes sparkled like amethysts.
The older girl took off the basket on her back, set it at her feet, and bowed her head. "Please forgive us for visiting unannounced. I am Kanae Kocho, and this is my younger sister, Shinobu Kocho."
The girl with the amethyst eyes glanced up at Haruto, then quickly lowered her head again to stare at her feet.
"After what happened last time, we were both so overwhelmed by grief that we failed to properly thank you, Mr. Takanashi... We came today specifically to express our gratitude."
Kanae's voice was gentle and pleasant, like a mountain spring flowing with the first snowmelt of early spring.
She took the contents out of her basket-the fresh medicine the Kakushi should have delivered. "After asking the Kakushi about you, we took on the task of delivering your medicine."
"Sorry for the trouble. The mountain path must have been difficult."
"We're the ones who should thank you. If you hadn't arrived in time, both of us might have ended up in a demon's stomach."
"Please give the medicine to Mr. Urokodaki. Thank you both."
Noticing how they seemed to have something to say but hesitated, Haruto smiled gently. "These injuries have nothing to do with that attack. They happened afterward."
Sakonji Urokodaki stepped forward to take the medicine basket, but Kanae shook her head. "My sister and I grew up in the Medicine Hall. We're very experienced at changing dressings.
"Please let us change yours this time."
She looked at the amount of medicine in the basket and suddenly choked up. "I thought this was enough for many days..."
Shinobu Kocho said nothing, stubbornly lifting her chin.
At that point, Haruto had no reason to refuse.
Fortunately, his fractures had almost healed. Only the puncture wounds, which were also nearly healed, needed medicine.
Though his body was covered in blue-purple bruises, it only looked so serious because of the fractures.
The sisters deftly removed the bandages, changed his dressings, and applied fresh medicine. It was clear they had often helped out in the Medicine Hall.
Even with their nimble hands, changing the dressings over Haruto's entire body took considerable effort.
After clearing away the medical waste, the girls exchanged a glance, looking a little nervous.
"It's getting late. If you have something to say and still won't say it..."
Haruto squinted up at the sun nearing its zenith and, under the sisters' nervous gazes, drawled, "I'll have to keep you here for lunch."
Sakonji Urokodaki had already risen and gone inside. Sabito and Giyu would be back soon, and he needed to prepare extra food for lunch.
"We asked the Demon Slayer Corps about hunting demons..." Kanae let out a soft breath.
"Please teach us how to hunt demons!" Shinobu Kocho spoke for the first time. Her words brimmed with anger toward demons, lending her voice an unwavering resolve and making her seem utterly different from her sister.
The elder was like gentle flowing water, her feelings deep and earnest.
The younger was like a drawn blade, sharp and unstoppable.
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