-Several Days After the Auction Infiltration Mission-
Iguro strode through the lush garden, his keen eyes scanning the vibrant array of flowers and meticulously pruned hedges. With each step, the grandeur of the mansion ahead loomed larger, its ornate structure framed by the golden rays of the morning sun filtering through the trees. The scene might have been peaceful, but Iguro carried an unshakable tension, his mind preoccupied with the mission at hand.
The mansion's entrance stood tall before him, its imposing wooden doors adorned with strange, almost alien symbols. The unfamiliar markings piqued his curiosity, but he dismissed them just as quickly, tightening his grip on his sword. His instincts had been honed for danger, and no amount of beauty could dull his edge.
Pausing at the door, Iguro ran his fingers over the carved serpent symbol—its coiled form reminded him of Kaburamaru, who he had left at home. The snake was shedding its skin, and Iguro had chosen not to disturb him. Shaking off the memory, he raised a fist and knocked.
The echo of his knock reverberated through the garden, amplifying the stillness around him. Iguro listened intently for movement, but the mansion remained silent as if holding its breath.
"Let's see what you've got in store for me," he muttered, his voice low and edged with frustration. Still, there was no answer.
His patience fraying, Iguro knocked harder, his annoyance creeping into his actions. "Uzui! I know you're in there!" he called, his voice sharp, cutting through the tranquility of the garden.
Just as he prepared to knock again, movement caught the corner of his eye.
A figure stood near the mansion's side, half-hidden in the shadows. A young woman, short in stature with shoulder-length black hair and delicate bangs framing her face, observed him. Her blue eyes, reflecting the soft morning light, stood out against the colorful stains on her cheeks and hands, evidence of recent artistic work. She wore a brown apron speckled with a kaleidoscope of paint, the colors stretching from her apron to her fingers.
Their eyes met, and she hesitated, clearly startled by his outburst.
Iguro dropped his hand from the door, turning his attention to her. "You there," he called his tone steadying though the irritation still simmered. "Do you know where Uzui is?"
The young woman flinched slightly, her gaze darting nervously, searching for an escape route. After a moment of hesitation, she nodded. "Y-you're a Hashira, right?" she asked, her voice trembling as she gripped her paint-splattered apron tighter.
Iguro's expression softened, just a fraction. He nodded, realizing his stern demeanor was unsettling her. She seemed to relax, if only slightly, but tension still clung to her movements.
"Tengen-sama is expecting you," she murmured, her voice firmer now. She turned toward a side entrance. "Please, follow me."
As they walked, Iguro's sharp gaze remained vigilant, scanning the symbols carved into the mansion's exterior and the blooming flowers that seemed to thrive under Uzui's flair for the extravagant. Though his irritation had eased, an underlying sense of urgency gnawed at him—particularly the thought of what Uzui had planned regarding Sasori.
As they rounded the corner of the mansion, Iguro spotted Uzui seated on the grass, a picnic basket beside him. Two women were painting intricate designs on the mansion's walls, their brushes dancing in synchronized strokes, bringing the structure to life with vivid hues.
"Tengen-sama," the young woman called softly, drawing Uzui's attention.
Uzui turned, his face breaking into a wide grin. "Ah, Iguro! Glad you could make it!" His voice boomed with enthusiasm as he rose to greet him. He brushed off his flamboyant kimono and gestured toward the women. "These artists are adding some much-needed flair to the mansion. It was looking too drab for my taste."
The women giggled, continuing their work, their brushes adding strokes of color with practiced ease. Iguro raised an eyebrow at the sight.
"You called me for a mission, not to show off your new decorations," Iguro muttered, his tone flat.
Uzui chuckled, unfazed by the bluntness. "Always straight to the point, aren't you? But first, let's sit and chat. I want to hear all about Sasori." He motioned toward a nearby blanket spread across the grass.
With a resigned sigh, Iguro complied, lowering himself onto the blanket. "The mission was... different than I expected," he began, his voice shifting into a more reflective tone. "Sasori isn't like the others. There's something beneath the surface."
Uzui raised an eyebrow but continued to watch the women paint. "What do you mean?"
Iguro hesitated as if weighing his words. "For starters... he was married."
"That's hardly surprising," Uzui replied casually, though his interest seemed to grow.
"To a man," Iguro added, watching Uzui's reaction closely.
Uzui paused for a moment, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "That does explain a few things," he said, trailing off.
"Explain what?" Iguro pressed, his curiosity piqued.
Uzui sidestepped the question. "How did you find this out?"
Iguro leaned back, eyes narrowing slightly. "He mentioned it after seeing Kaburamaru. Something about his former partner trying to kill him. I assume he meant his husband."
Uzui nodded slowly, his expression unreadable. "Interesting... and is that all you learned?"
Iguro shook his head. "He blended into the mission perfectly. But... there's his ability to sense life force. That's no ordinary power."
Uzui's gaze sharpened. Even his wives, usually engrossed in their work, paused for a fraction of a second before continuing their strokes. "Life force sensing... Huh," Uzui mused, his tone thoughtful. "But how?"
"I don't know," Iguro sighed, standing. "That's all I've got."
Uzui stood as well, a thoughtful look crossing his face. "I see. But before you go..." His playful demeanor returned. "What do you think of my self-portrait?" He gestured to an exaggerated painting of himself, chin comically pronounced.
Iguro couldn't help but smirk beneath his bandages. "A perfect likeness," he deadpanned. "You really captured the essence of... whatever that is."
Uzui laughed heartily, unfazed. "Art is subjective, my friend—just like a good mission."
"Sure. Just don't quit your day job," Iguro shot back, turning to leave. "I'll report back if I learn anything new about Sasori."
"Stay safe, Iguro," Uzui called after him, his voice suddenly serious. "We need all our Hashira in the field."
Iguro nodded, the weight of his responsibilities settling over him again as he walked away, the vibrant colors of the garden fading into the distance.
Once Iguro was out of sight, Uzui turned to his wives with a mischievous grin. "So, what do you think?" he asked, watching as they admired their paintings.
Makio stepped back, appraising her vibrant depiction of a chicken raiding a shark. "Hard to believe our clan let someone like Sasori leave," she mused.
Hinatsuru, gazing at her more reserved painting of an owl atop a stack of books, giggled. "Art should mean something, right?"
Uzui chuckled, arms crossed. "Perhaps. But sometimes it just needs to be... flamboyant."
"And besides, what does an owl mean?" she asked, eyeing Hinatsuru's drawing with curiosity.
"The owl represents knowledge," Hinatsuru explained, her expression thoughtful.
"By that logic, this chicken-shark hybrid is just plain badass," Makio shot back, a smirk playing on her lips.
Uzui laughed, crossing his arms. "You can't deny it, Hinatsuru. It's pretty badass."
Hinatsuru tried to keep a straight face but couldn't hold back her laughter. "Fine, I'll give you that. But next time, maybe create something that doesn't look like a fever dream."
"I'll try," Makio replied with a mock salute before glancing over at Suma's canvas. Suma's piece was much simpler—a bold, red spiral that curved elegantly toward the center. Its clean, striking lines gave it a mesmerizing effect, almost like a vortex pulling you in.
"What did you draw, Suma?" Makio asked, curious.
Suma shrugged lightly. "I saw it in a book and liked the design, so I thought I'd give it a try."
Hinatsuru leaned in to take a closer look. "I haven't seen that symbol before. Could you show me the book later?"
Suma nodded. "Of course, I'll find it for you."
Suma's expression grew more concerned as she stared at the forest that bordered their home. "Tengen, are you going to do something about the demon that's been lingering around the forest near our house?" she asked quietly, her gaze never leaving the dark woods.
Uzui shook his head, his usual confident grin faltering just slightly. "Not yet. I plan to use that demon to gather more information about Sasori," he replied, his voice thoughtful.
Hinatsuru frowned, folding her arms. "Uzui, I'm glad you're so intrigued, but we don't even know if this Sasori is part of our clan. There's too much we don't understand."
Makio nodded in agreement. "And besides, only our ancestors had the ability to control life force. I think they called it 'chakra.'"
"That's right," Suma chimed in. "Chakra was something only our ancient ancestors could use."
Uzui waved a hand dismissively, though his gaze remained fixed on the forest. "Well, there's no other explanation for Sasori's abilities. The way he controls those puppets... there's something more to it."
"You're talking about his puppet technique?" Makio asked, tilting her head. "Actually, I think I've seen something about puppets in one of the books we took from our clan when we left."
Uzui's interest piqued, and he turned to Hinatsuru, intrigued. "A book on puppets, huh?"
Hinatsuru nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, I'm almost certain one of the texts mentioned something about controlling puppets, though I don't remember the details."
Uzui straightened, clearly excited by this new lead. "I have a task for all of you," he said, his voice taking on a serious tone.
"What is it, Tengen-sama?" Suma asked, curiosity lighting up her face.
"Hinatsuru, I need you to find that book you mentioned—the one with information on puppets. As for Makio and Suma, I want the two of you to create a full family tree. We need to figure out if Sasori is linked to our clan in any way."
"I see," Hinatsuru murmured, already thinking about where the book could be, while Makio and Suma nodded in agreement.
"We'll start right away, Tengen," Makio said determinedly, already planning how to piece together their family history.
Uzui watched his wives, a mix of pride and determination in his eyes. "Good. If Sasori really is connected to us, we need to know everything. And I already have a plane for the demon. I just need to make sure it doesn't try anything."
-With Sasori,Mitsuri and Iguroo-
As the first light of dawn broke over the horizon, Sasori, Mitsuri, Iguro, and their escorts made their way back to the village. The early morning air was crisp, a sharp contrast to the chaos they had just left behind. The group moved in silence, each member lost in thought, the events of the night weighing heavily on their minds.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
Upon reaching the village, the group immediately sought out the village leaders. The villagers, still on edge from the recent demon attack, gathered around, their eyes filled with a mix of fear and hope. Sasori, Mitsuri, and Iguro recounted their encounter with the demon and its defeat, and a palpable sense of relief washed over the crowd. Murmurs of gratitude and whispered prayers for safety filled the air.
One elderly villager stepped forward, her eyes brimming with tears. "Thank you," she said, her voice trembling. "Thank you for saving us."
Mitsuri gave the woman a warm smile. "We're just glad everyone is safe now. Please, try to rest easy."
As the crowd began to disperse, Mitsuri turned to the others. "We should get moving," she said. "We need to get Iguro to Shinobu. She will probably know how to fix your voice."
Iguri nodded in agreement. "Time is of the essence. The faster we get there, the sooner my voice gets fixed." He glanced towards the road leading out of the village, his expression unreadable.
As the group prepared to leave the village, Sasori took a moment to glance back at the villagers. The sight of their relieved faces was a stark reminder of the fragility of human life in a world plagued by demons. His thoughts drifted to his past, where he had been on the opposite side, wreaking havoc and instilling fear. The irony of his current situation was not lost on him. For the first time in what felt like forever, he was protecting rather than destroying.
Mitsuri noticed his pensive expression and furrowed brows. She walked over to him, her curiosity piqued by the distant look in his eyes. "Sasori," she called softly, bringing him back to the present. "Are you alright? You seem lost in thought."
Sasori blinked, pulling himself out of his reverie. "I'm fine," he replied, offering a brief nod. "Just thinking about how much things have changed."
Mitsuri tilted her head slightly, a gentle smile on her lips. "Change can be a good thing," she said encouragingly. "It means you're growing, adapting. That's what makes us human."
Sasori gave a noncommittal shrug, his gaze shifting away from her. He knew Mitsuri didn't know about his past. The less she knew. The less they all knew, the better. For now, he was content with letting her think that he was simply a new ally, another demon slayer on a mission to protect humanity.
Iguro gives a slight nod in agreement. "We can't change our pasts, but we can shape our futures," he rasped, his new voice strained and barely audible. "Let's get going. I don't know how long I can hold myself back from ripping my thoughts off."
Sasori gave a noncommittal shrug, his gaze shifting away from her. He knew Mitsuri didn't know about his past. The less she knew, the better. For now, he was content with letting her think that he was simply a new ally, another demon slayer on a mission to protect humanity.
Iguro gave a slight nod in agreement, his voice low and slightly rough, though not from injury. "We can't change our pasts, but we can shape our futures," he rasped. His tone carried a hint of frustration at the change in his voice. "Let's get going. The sooner we reach Shinobu, the sooner I can get this fixed."
Just then, a villager approached, pulling up beside them in a small carriage. "Do you need a ride?" the villager asked, his voice filled with concern. "It's not much, but it'll get you where you need to go faster."
Mitsuri looked at Iguro, noticing his unease about his altered voice, then nodded gratefully. "That would be a big help, thank you."
They climbed into the carriage, and as it began to move, Iguro leaned back, silently determined to return to his normal self. Though the road ahead was uncertain, they knew they had to keep pushing forward—each for their own reason.
After traveling for several days, the Butterfly Mansion finally came into view in the distance.
"We're finally back!" Mitsuri announced to the others, her eyes lighting up at the sight of the mansion.
"Thank the fucking gods," Iguro muttered, his voice raspy from disuse. He hadn't spoken much since they left the village, and his voice hadn't changed back.
Without hesitation, Iguro jumped out of the carriage and headed toward the mansion, with Mitsuri and Sasori following closely behind.
"Shinobu better be able to fix my voice," Iguro grumbled as he reached the door and began banging on it with urgency.
"Slow down, Iguro! You'll hurt yourself!" Mitsuri shouted, her voice filled with concern.
Before she could stop him, the door swung open, revealing Aoi standing in the doorway, looking irritated.
"Why are you trying to break down the door?!" she snapped, arms crossed.
"Ah! W-we're back! A-and injured!" Mitsuri stammered, startled by Aoi's harsh tone.
"Injured? You barely look hurt! Just some cuts and bruises. You're a Hashira, right? You can handle it! No need to bang the door down like that, especially since you're already bandaged up," Aoi scolded, though her tone softened slightly.
"Ah, yeah! Sasori helped bandage us up!" Mitsuri added, gesturing to Sasori.
Aoi turned her sharp gaze to Sasori. "And you! You don't even look injured. Why are you here?"
Sasori raised an eyebrow, confused by her sudden focus on him. But before he could reply, Aoi cut him off again.
"Never mind—you smell awful," she said, wrinkling her nose before tossing a towel at him. "Go take a shower!"
Sasori caught the towel midair, glancing at his wrist with a casual expression. "Hmm. I do have some dirt in my joints," he remarked before heading past everyone toward the bathing area.
"I'm not even going to bother with that," Aoi muttered as she turned back to Iguro and Mitsuri.
"Hey, I was going to use that towel..." one of the other slayers grumbled, eyeing Sasori's retreating figure and then looking back at Aoi.
"There are more towels in the cabinet. Go get another one!" Aoi huffed, clearly frustrated.
"What's got under your skin, Aoi?" Mitsuri asked, her voice laced with concern.
Aoi sighed, the tension in her body easing a bit. "It's nothing... Sorry, I'm just a bit stressed," she replied, her voice softening.
"Anyway, what's wrong?" Aoi asked, her tone shifting back to serious.
"This," Iguro said, and Aoi looked at him with confusion.
"What?" Aoi asked, still perplexed by Iguro's changed voice.
"I got hit with a sound wave, and now my voice is like this," Iguro explained.
"I... don't think we can fix that..." Aoi said, her uncertainty evident.
"Just because you can't doesn't mean Shinobu can't," Iguro insisted, a note of frustration in his tone.
"Well, I'm not sure about that... But go lie down in a bed; I'll get Miss Shinobu," Aoi said as she walked off.
Mitsuri and Iguro entered the infirmary, finding only one bed occupied. "Sanemi?!" Mitsuri exclaimed as she approached him.
"What?!" Sanemi questioned, his leg bandaged and a frustrated expression on his face.
"Where have you been? I haven't seen you for months," Mitsuri said, her concern evident.
Sanemi huffed. "Why the hell do you care?" he retorted, giving her an annoyed sidelong glance.
Mitsuri struggled to find a real answer. "Just... course," she replied, causing Sanemi to raise an eyebrow at her.
He sighed, shooting Mitsuri an annoyed glance before speaking again. "Okay, fine... I've been trying to track down a base," Sanemi said, leaning against the bedrest.
"A base? Whose base?" Mitsuri asked, her curiosity piqued as she sat in the bed next to his.
Sanemi shrugged. "Not sure, but I'm pretty sure this demon is a couple of centuries old," he answered.
"Really!?" Mitsuri exclaimed, surprised. "Is it an upper moon?"
Sanemi shook his head. "No... I didn't see any kanji in his eyes indicating any rank he has or had," he explained.
"If it's not a member of the Twelve Kizuki, why are you wasting your time tracking it down?" Iguro interjected, causing Sanemi to slowly turn toward him, puzzled by his altered voice.
"What the hell happened to you?" Sanemi asked, a small smirk forming on his lips.
Iguro rolled his eyes in response. "Long story. But why are you tracking this demon?"
Sanemi huffed, leaning back against the bed. "Remember the time I was sent to Germany for a mission?"
Both Mitsuri and Iguro nodded, confusion evident on their faces. "That was a while ago," Iguro remarked, his brow furrowing in curiosity.
Sanemi sighed, his expression shifting as he prepared to recount the tale. "Well..."
— Flashback —
Germany was facing a grave threat from a pack of powerful demons that posed a serious danger to its residents. In response, Japan dispatched Sanemi and five other slayers to provide support.
The Japanese slayers teamed up with their German counterparts, successfully hunting down the demons before they could cause significant damage.
Sanemi led the charge, sprinting through the dense forest with his team close behind. They pursued a demon that resembled a rhinoceros, its massive frame crashing through the underbrush and leaving a path of destruction in its wake.
The demon was easy to track; its reckless rampage created a clear trail for the slayers as they navigated the chaotic landscape.
"Go ahead of me!" Sanemi commanded, falling back slightly from the group. He focused his energy, on preparing for his next move.
"Ninth Form: Idaten Typhoon!" Sanemi shouted, launching himself into a front flip. As he soared into the air, he unleashed a powerful gust of wind beneath him, propelling himself higher into the sky and positioning himself directly above the unsuspecting demon.
Sanemi smirked as he descended toward the demon, but it reacted quickly, blocking his attack with its horn, which Sanemi had aimed at its neck.
The demon pulled back its fist and launched it at Sanemi, but one of the other slayers intervened.
"First Form: Unknowing Fire!" he shouted, dashing forward at impressive speed. With a swift motion, he unleashed a singular horizontal slash, severing the demon's arm and stopping its attack.
Seizing the opportunity, Sanemi countered with "Fifth Form: Cold Mountain Wind." He created several circular, arched slashes that increased in size as they descended upon the demon, striking it and sending it crashing into a cleft, where it tumbled into a large cave.
Sanemi quickly grabbed the slayer's shoulder, using him to steady himself as he landed gently on the ground.
"Wow! Is that a hidden cave?!" another slayer exclaimed as she and the others ran up to them.
"Don't let your guard down!" Sanemi ordered, cautiously stepping into the cave and jumping over the crumbling wall as the dust began to settle.
As the dust cleared, the rhinoceros demon could be seen slumped against the wall, its form slowly disintegrating into dust.
Sanemi huffed, sheathing his sword as a sense of relief washed over him with the threat now neutralized.
"This isn't just a cave! This is straight up someone's home," the Flame Breather remarked, looking around the dimly lit space.
There were several bookshelves filled with dusty books and a table scattered with various notes. However, the most intriguing part of the room was a small metal plate laid out with an array of surgical tools.
"But look at all the dust..." a slayer remarked, dragging her finger across the bookshelf. "No one has lived here for... probably decades."
The Flame Breather stepped beside her, pulling a book from the shelf and wiping off the dust.
"Anatomy of the Human Body," he read aloud, flipping through the pages.
"Who wrote it?" a slayer with purple hair approached the Flame Breather and the other slayer.
"No author listed. It looks like someone ripped pages from other books and compiled them into this one," the Flame Breather replied, frowning at the makeshift collection.
"Check this out!" the girl from earlier announced, holding up a book she'd taken from the table.
"What is it?" Sanemi asked, still scanning the room cautiously.
"It's a photo album!" she exclaimed, flipping to the first page.
Everyone gathered around as she revealed an old, sepia-toned photograph.
The picture featured four people. In the center was a boy with spiky white hair and a mischievous grin. To his right stood a pale boy with sharp black eyes and a serious expression. On the left side of the white-haired boy was a girl with long, flowing blonde hair and a determined look on her face. Behind them stood a slightly older man with a kind yet authoritative presence. The background showed a training ground, trees, and a wooden target, suggesting it was taken during one of their practice sessions.
"Who are they?" the purple-haired slayer asked, peering over the pictures in the album.
"No clue, but there are a lot of pictures with the pale guy in them," she explained, flipping through more photographs.
Sanemi, however, ignored them and focused on the notices scattered across the table. He picked one up, squinting at the unfamiliar characters.
"What the hell is this?" Sanemi grumbled, frustration creeping into his voice.
The Flame Breather walked over, glancing at the notice in Sanemi's hands. "It's kanji?" he asked, surprised.
"No shit. But I don't understand what it says," Sanemi replied, rolling his eyes.
"I see the word 'fish cake'... Is it a recipe?" the girl interjected, handing the photo album to someone else.
"Oh! It's old kanji," the purple-haired slayer chimed in, picking up another note from the table.
"It is? How did you know?" the girl asked, curious.
The purple-haired slayer shrugged. "I studied literature before I joined the Corps," he explained.
"Can you translate?" Sanemi demanded, shoving the note closer to the slayer's face.
"Ah, yeah. Just give me a few minutes," he replied, grabbing a blank piece of paper and a pen before beginning to translate.
— End of Flashback —
"And then he started to translate," Sanemi concluded, noticing that Iguro and Mitsuri were now intrigued by his journey.
"So? What did the notice say?" Mitsuri asked, her curiosity piqued.
"Get my bag. It's under my bed," Sanemi instructed. Iguro knelt down and pulled a brown bag from beneath Sanemi's bed.
Iguro handed the bag over to Sanemi as he pulled out several pieces of paper and an album from it.
"I managed to find another base in Japan and got more notes. I asked the same guy to translate them," Sanemi said, showcasing the documents.
"Is that how you got hurt?" Mitsuri asked, glancing at Sanemi's injured leg.
"Yeah... This one was trapped, so I was caught off guard by it," Sanemi replied, his expression a mix of annoyance and pain as he recounted the incident.
"Do you think the demon you were tracking is connected to this base?" Iguro inquired, furrowing his brow as he examined the papers.
Sanemi nodded, his eyes narrowing. "He mentioned his base in Japan in the notice I got from Germany."
"And you're sure this guy is a demon and not just some rich dude who likes having secret bases?" Iguro asked, skepticism lacing his words.
"Did you look at the pictures in the album? Slit eyes, unnaturally pale skin. Plus, those pictures were taken before B.C., and his Japanese base looked used. So yeah, I'm sure," Sanemi replied, his tone firm.
"What does the notice say?" Mitsuri asked, flipping through the album, but before Sanemi could respond, a knock on the window drew their attention.
They turned to see Mitsuri's crow perched outside, pecking insistently at the glass.
Sanemi opened the window, allowing the crow to hop inside.
"Major! Major! New! Major bad news!" the crow shouted, flapping its wings excitedly.
Before they could ask what it meant, another crow flew through the open window, landing on Sanemi's head and pecking at him.
"News! News! News!" the second crow chimed in, fluttering around Sanemi's head.
Sanemi grabbed the crow aggrievedly as he placed it on his lap.
"What..." Sanemi muttered in annoyance.
The two crows locked eyes, engaging in a silent conversation with just a glance.
"You tell," Sanemi's crow insisted.
Mitsuri's crow shook its head vigorously. "No, no! You must!" it insisted.
"It's first come, first served! You tell the news!" Sanemi's crow declared, puffing up its chest.
As the two crows began to argue over who should share the bad news, a silent figure stood on the other side of the door, listening intently to their conversation.
"How... interesting~" Sasori mused quietly, a hint of intrigue in his tone as he stepped away from the door. A thoughtful smile graced his lips.