The hot spring's steam had not entirely dispelled the heaviness in Tanjiro's heart.
The instant Sasuke had suddenly opened his eyes in the hot spring and looked toward the village entrance, he had radiated a cold, razor-sharp presence that Tanjiro still remembered vividly.
It was the reaction of a lion catching the scent of a jackal that did not belong in its territory.
Something had slipped in.
Tanjiro put on his clothes and hurried back to the inn, a trace of unease in his heart. Nezuko had already shrunk and fallen fast asleep in the box on his back.
The inn's corridor was quiet. Most people were still at the hot spring or resting in their rooms.
Just as Tanjiro rounded a corner, a figure blocked his path without warning.
The newcomer was tall, with a fierce-looking mohawk, a vicious scar across his face, and eyes full of impatience and irritability.
It was Genya Shinazugawa.
"Hey, you."
Genya's voice was hoarse and rough, carrying a hostility that warned strangers to keep away.
"Where's my sword? Have you seen my sword?"
He seemed to have just returned from the hot spring, moisture still clinging to him, but nothing could mask that irritable scent.
"Uh... Mr. Shinazugawa?" Tanjiro paused, then answered politely, "I haven't seen your sword. Perhaps you could ask the village chief..."
"Huh?!"
Genya's voice suddenly rose. He seized Tanjiro by the collar and lifted him clean off the floor.
"I asked if you'd seen it! Why the hell are you talking about the village chief?!"
A smell of sweat mixed with gunpowder hit Tanjiro in the face, and his brows immediately drew tight.
"Please let go! I really don't know!"
"Tch. Trash is trash."
Genya spat impatiently, then swung his arm and roughly shoved Tanjiro away.
Tanjiro's back slammed