Turtle Insect Hashira

The door slid open, and Shinobu Kocho walked in carrying a tray. On it was a bowl of perfectly normal-looking meat congee, and... a bowl of pitch-black medicinal soup giving off a strange green smoke.

Shinobu had made the congee as an extra meal for Kiyohiko. With his appetite, even five meals a day probably wouldn't be too many. As for the strange medicinal soup...

Watching Shinobu enter, Kiyohiko hesitated for a moment before finally handing her all the questionnaires, braced for death.

One look at Kiyohiko's expression was enough for Shinobu to know he had done something else to make her furious. She glanced at the medicinal soup without thinking, then set down the tray and held out her hand with a smile.

"Is that so? Thank you for your hard work. May I have a look?"

The smile on her exquisite face was as radiant as ever, even more so than before, so radiant that it seemed to bring red spider lilies into bloom. The veins bulging on her forehead throbbed merrily.

The first page... her eyebrow twitched up slightly.

The tenth page... her smile seemed to stiffen for an instant.

When she reached the page with the "Insect Hashira turtle" drawing, the air in the room seemed to freeze. The temperature plummeted, and even the cicadas outside the window seemed to fall silent in fear.

Shinobu stared at the turtle with its butterfly bow for a full ten seconds.

Then, slowly, slowly, she raised her head.

"Hehe... hehehe..."

Her laughter rang like silver bells, but to Kiyohiko, it sounded like the Grim Reaper's summons.

"So this is how cute I look in your eyes, Mr. Kiyohiko. What an... unexpected surprise."

"Um... it's abstract art! Ever heard of Picasso? Art takes understanding!"

Kiyohiko huddled in the corner, trembling as he tried to fend off the nearly tangible killing intent with a barrage of nonsense.

"Art... I see."

Shinobu closed the questionnaire as gently as if she were stroking a lover's face, but Kiyohiko distinctly heard the paper groan under the strain.

She picked up the bowl of green-smoking medicinal soup and approached him step by step.

"Since your brain is full of so many 'artistic' cells, I imagine your body needs more nourishment to support all that creativity, doesn't it? This is the 'artistic inspiration soup' I specially prepared for you, with double the snake gallbladders, dried lizards, and... extra-concentrated Wisteria extract."

"No, no, no! I don't need it! My inspiration's already dried up! Really! I won't drink it! This is murder! I want to see Oyakata-sama! I want to see Tanjiro!"

Kiyohiko waved his hands in terror, trying to refuse the bowl of liquid that reeked of hell.

"Be good and listen. Good medicine tastes bitter, but it helps the illness. Drink this, and your drawing skills will surely reach new heights."

"Come on, I'll feed you-say ah-"

"Mmph, mmph, mmph-!!!"

Amid a series of ghastly gulps and sounds of struggle, the bowl of medicinal soup filled with "love" ended up in Kiyohiko's stomach.

A few minutes later.

Shinobu left with the questionnaires, thoroughly satisfied, thoughtfully closing the door for him on her way out.

"Get plenty of rest. I'm looking forward to your new work tomorrow."

In the room, Kiyohiko lay sprawled on the tatami, an unidentified green liquid leaking from the corner of his mouth and his eyes unfocused.

Why does this feel so familiar? Isn't this just like when we first met?

A few more times and I'll be confident I can drink Guangdong herbal tea without batting an eye.

"...That woman... is definitely... a devil..."

Kiyohiko muttered weakly to himself.

The wooden corridor creaked softly beneath her toes as Shinobu walked through the cool shade of the Butterfly Mansion with graceful, even steps. Sunlight streamed through the lattice windows, casting mottled patterns of light and shadow that danced across her butterfly-wing-patterned haori.

Her right hand was still tightly clutching the stack of slightly crumpled questionnaires.

"Hehe..."

When she reached the corner, she finally couldn't help stopping to let out a soft chuckle. It was quiet, without the deliberately maintained polite cadence she used around others. Instead, it carried a hint of ease that even she didn't notice.

She couldn't get the image of the boy huddled in the corner out of her mind, looking ready to face death yet still unable to stop himself from making snide remarks.

She lowered her head, her gaze falling once more on the "Insect Hashira turtle" doodle. The crooked lines and the deliberately oversized butterfly bow were a blatant challenge to her dignity as a Hashira.

Strangely, though, as she looked at the comical picture, it was as if a spring of "absurdity" had temporarily put out a small part of the flame called "hatred" that had burned deep inside her for years.

"You really are a complete and utter fool, Mr. Kiyohiko."

She murmured softly, her fingers brushing over the ink on the page.

Hurried footsteps came from ahead, and Aoi Kanzaki walked briskly past, carrying a stack of clean bedsheets. When she saw Shinobu, Aoi immediately stopped and bowed respectfully.

"Lady Shinobu, you seem to be in a good mood?"

"Oh, Aoi, is it that obvious?"

Shinobu raised her head, the smile on her face becoming professional and flawless, though a trace of mirth still lingered in her eyes.

"I've just discovered a very interesting 'research specimen.' Oh, and if Mr. Kiyohiko starts clamoring for food later, prepare him some light refreshments. But..."

She winked slyly, her tone turning playful.

"Add just a tiny bit of bitter melon juice to them, as a return gift for his 'artistic creation.'"

"Huh? Yes, understood."

Aoi froze for a moment. Though she didn't understand what had happened, she nodded obediently. Watching Shinobu walk away, she couldn't help feeling that the ever-enigmatic Insect Hashira seemed a little "younger" today.

Back in her study, Shinobu spread the questionnaire out on her desk. Rather than immediately deal with the mountain of pharmaceutical reports, she took out a red brush and briskly sketched a few strokes beside the turtle doodle.

She drew a little figure beside the turtle's head, adding an angry speech bubble with the words: [Stupid demon].

As the brush whispered across the paper, Shinobu's gaze softened. She remembered what her older sister had often said when she was alive: "If only demons and humans could understand each other someday."

She had once thought it was an unattainable fantasy, even a painful curse. But now, looking at this questionnaire full of human humor and rebelliousness, a curious thought occurred to her for the first time: If all demons were like him... even if they just fooled around like him, would the world become a little gentler?

Actually, even if he stopped training so hard and just kept fooling around like this, that dream... might not be as burdensome as it seems.

She leaned back in her chair and watched dust dance in the sunlight outside the window, sinking into a brief contemplation.

A handsome demon and a bad woman-this story isn't so trashy after all.

"His ideal type is someone who absolutely doesn't hide a knife behind a smile and absolutely doesn't play with poison?"

She read the line, and the corners of her mouth rose slightly in a smile that was a little lonely but genuine.

"I'm terribly sorry, Mr. Kiyohiko. I'm afraid... I'm both of those things."

She put the questionnaire away carefully in the bottom drawer of her desk. It held her most treasured photographs and keepsakes, and now there was one more thing: a comical "work of art."