"Tanjirou," someone whispered against his cheek, so close her breath crashed there, warm and comforting breath he had missed.

The soft touch of something cold playing with his hair made Tanjirou wake up, if only slightly.

"Tanjirou, wake up." The cold hand slid to his chin, with such softness he knew it could only come from one person.

Aya smiled at him, kneeling before his bed with a hand caressing his cheek just like she had done after Rui had died back then, on Natagumo mountain.

The dark brown that had once been pits, just like the blue of Tomioka's endless oceans, wasn't there anymore. Instead, small embers of determination came back strongly and made the mountain flourish. Spring, Tanjirou thought, was beautiful, Aya, who carried it with her, more so.

"I'm back home."

A loud crash echoed throughout the nursery when Tanjirou threw himself at her and hugged her, both falling back and crashing against the floor.

Wisteria, that was what he smelt when burying his nose in the gap between her neck and her shoulder. No resentment or fear or anger, there was not even a pinch of hate, neither for her nor for other people. And he was so happy about that.

"Why didn't you tell me you were leaving?" Tanjirou muttered against her uniform. Aya's arms wrapped around him, embracing, comforting. "You disappeared so suddenly that I couldn't-"

Aya squeezed just a bit tighter, one of her hands playing with his curls.

"I'm sorry," she said, without offering an excuse or blaming someone else. "It was a sudden mission, you were sleeping and it was early, I didn't want to wake you up."

"I wouldn't have cared if you woke me up," Tanjirou muttered, the dark red of Aya's haori the only thing he saw. It felt good to be there, so close to Aya and her cold that dissipated the warmth that was sometimes asphyxiating. He didn't think he wanted to get away from her any time soon. "I just wanted you to tell me, it wouldn't have mattered that-"

"Tanjirou," Aya suddenly cut him off. She laid both elbows on the floor and leaned back, still with him on her lap. "I'm not leaving."

He had to blink for the words to truly sink in as hers.

"You're not?"

Aya shook her head, smiling, the red ribbon moving along with her.

"I'm not going anywhere. I don't have to train with shishou even if I'm a tsuguko. I sent him a crow rejecting his offer just a while ago."

"So you're… not leaving." Tanjirou repeated under his breath, leaning back overwhelmed.

She sighed with a joy few times seen on her. Aya didn't stop smiling, and Tanjirou could only smell the vanilla characteristic of her wisteria that bloomed along with her kindness.

Aya slowly got closer to him and held his hand. Tanjirou stepped back so she didn't see his blush.

"Do you want me to tell you something?"

She got even closer, whispering with a childish enthusiasm as if it was a secret a little girl told her friend convinced that it was the most precious thing in the world, and trusting him enough to tell.

"I'm gonna stay here, with you and the others. I'll send a letter to aniki, I'll apologize to Zenitsu the moment he wakes up and I'll talk to my parents. I'll make everything go back to how it used to be, because I love my family, I love aniki, I love shishou, I love them more than anything, more so than being a pillar." Tanjirou wasn't able to remember the moment Aya had gotten so close, enough so for their noses to touch, nor when she laid a hand on his cheek or when he wrapped his arms around her again. "And I love you too, Tanjirou."

It was easy to untie the red ribbon on Aya's hair as she finally closed the distance between their lips and kissed him. Tanjirou buried his hand in between the charcoal of her hair and Aya got both hands to the back of his neck, soft in everything that wasn't killing demons.

Tanjirou must have been burning, slowly being consumed by the torch on his heart that turned brighter and got out of his control.

Aya slowly backed away from him, not too much, just enough to take a deep breath of air.

"I love you." Tanjirou confessed in a sigh that came from the deepest part of him, as if he had said that a thousand, a million times, giving her a sweet kiss only a moment later. "Aya," another short kiss. "I love you."

Her hair was soft the more he played with it and Aya's white hands slid down to his chest, lightly squeezing his shoulders. Tanjirou rose a hand to her cheek, caressing the mole there.

Aya leaned on it, enjoying the harsh touch at the same time as she looked at him with brown eyes that had nothing but love in them.

He took a moment to admire her under the moonlight and kissed her again and Aya was sweet and soft and her kisses tasted just like her kindness smelled like.

A loud crash made Tanjirou open his eyes and he found himself, again, looking up at the patterns on the ceiling.

The Sun had yet to rise and the strong beating of his heart drowned out anything else he could have heard.

Tanjirou looked to the side of the bed where he found messy sheets. He must have kicked him away while sleeping. The feeling of burning didn't go away even if he woke up. an incessant tingle tortured his skin, so much he couldn't even feel the touch of the soft pajamas he was dressed with.

Another crash came from the distance along with a small, insistent shrill, as if someone was scratching the wood of the floor.

He wondered if it was Nezuko, in her box now that dawn was soon to follow and trying to distract herself enough to fall asleep. But Nezuko's box was by the side of his bed.

The shrill came from the doors of the Butterfly Estate, loud and never ending that turned more grotesque the more it went on.

The trails of claws were the first thing he saw, plastered on the wall of the entry hall erratically, no clean slashes. It didn't smell like a demon, Tanjirou was sure about that, but he recognized Kanao's smell.

His sense of smell had never lied to him and that was what he found. Kanao sweated generously with trembling eyes, a hand paralyzed above her pocket as if unable to get it in.

What he didn't smell was Aya, whose hand was leaning on the trace at the end of the path the scratch had marked down the wall.

She wobbled, sliding further down and ending up on her knees, Kanao still on her back.

Having trouble breathing she laid her on the floor, sitting by her side. And then she sank her nails on the wooden planks and squeezed as much as she could.

Kanao was only injured on the leg that hung uselessly but she sweated as much as Aya who, with clenched jaw and claws firmly fixed on the floor, repressed a pained moan as she trembled without rest.

«Go to the Butterfly Estate in case of getting heavily injured» That was a truth and now that she had, Kanao had nothing else to do. Even if there was something that yelled, but in that command there was nothing that told her to ask Ayaka-san if she was okay. And her own will was so small she was unable to flip her coin.

"Aya," Tanjirou muttered in confusion, giving a step toward her. From Aya's mouth the saliva dropped in thin lines, and down her chin, and when she looked at Tanjirou on her eyes he didn't see brown nor did he see any love, but the red of Muzan Kibutsuji's, the red of Aya's old haori with its spider lilies and the red from the blood of his family with their insides in the snow.

Aya jumped at him, clumsily crashing against his chest and making both of them fall to the floor, getting tangled with each other's limbs.

As close as they were he wasn't able to smell wisteria, no delicious vanilla and no sweet spring.

«She's losing her scent» Tanjirou thought. Terror attacked him with its icy claws right at the heart. «Aya is losing her wisteria scent just like Nezuko lost her smell of candy.»

Aya's head rubbed further against his chest, slowly going up to his neck and staying there, breathing anxiously.

Her claws didn't slah Tanjirou nor did they raise against him, simply staying behind his back, arms around him.

As much of a demon as she appeared to be, Aya was still as strong as always as she squeezed Tanjirou into a hug, and that assured him Aya hadn't turned into a demon.

Relief dissipated the terror and Tanjirou returned the hug, trying not to focus on the hazy eyes or the fangs.

ᵒᵒ✿ᵒᵒ✿ᵒᵒ✿ᵒᵒ

"Round, round, go round, Waterwheel, go round. Go round, and call Mr. Sun. Go round, and call Mr. Sun."

Ayaka thought about memories from childhood, afternoons spent with Yuu, singing and playing. She wished she wouldn't have had to be tied down to a bed to do so, that Yuu hadn't been forced to sit down by her side to play, that he hadn't been forced to stay by her side instead of being able to run and jump. She had been happy, in blissful ignorance enjoying the hard boiled rice and her parents' love. She had eaten mochi on New Years with her grandmother and she had celebrated the harvests just like any other kid.

"I'm home," Ayaka whispered, trying desperately not to squirm in pain. "I'm home… home… home…"

And so they sang and sang until their throats ached and laughing was something they had been doing for hours.

"Birds, bugs, beasts, grass, trees, flowers. Bring spring and summer, fall and winter. Round, round, go round, Waterwheel, go round. Go round, and call Mr. Sun. Go round, and call Mr. Sun"

«I'll make everything go back to how it used to be.» Her own promise echoed like thunder in the night. «We'll sing and be happy again. In the end, I don't know how to, but I promise I'll make everything go back to how it used to be.»

Something small and warm moved up and down over her back, it was rough and brought her a wave of comfort.

Tanjirou rubbed circles on Ayaka's back. And she allowed herself to fall languid over him, all tension melting away from her body and slowly sliding out of her.

"Mister Sun… Mister… Sun… Sun… Sun… Sun…" she repeated time and time again, burying her nose deeper in a place she didn't know to smell the charcoal. Charcoal meant protection, she'd be safe as long as she was with the charcoal, that was something her human part whispered.

«I missed you» That thought suddenly appeared in her mind, making her grab desperately onto the soft cloth that covered something warm in the process. «I missed you so much.»

Being here, in between the arms of Mister Sun, felt just like singing with Yuu again, like eating mochi with her grandma and like playing karuta with her parents.

"Mister Sun," Ayaka asked with a tugging voice. "Embrace… embrace.. embrace me… mister Sun."

And mister Sun did, so strongly he snatched her breath away, but like this, feeling loved, Ayaka found an inch of the drunk and childish happiness from her childhood.

So she stayed with the charcoal and the safety that came from him. The charcoal would never hurt her, the charcoal would never want to see her get hurt, the charcoal loved her and she wished she could have loved him the same way.

She could have stayed there, even if the poison made her flesh rot and only left her bones, even if her veins burned and her blood boiled. She wouldn't have cared as long as she could smell the charcoal.

But Ayaka's mind travelled somewhere and with her also travelled her demonic senses, there was something that smelled more like home than this one. Out in the garden, on the wooden planks of the porch.

Sins had a very specific smell. At first they smelled like darkness, ashes and hell flames along with apples poisoned in temptation and bathed on the metal of blood. If one was a demon the apples rotted and they turned into disgusting oil. It didn't matter if it was the human's blood or the demon's oil, because the red spider lilies were born from there, as the ultimate symbol of perdition.

In Nezuko's case, whose only sin had been to turn into a demon, they were only clean ashes. Then, when the sins turned lighter and one did what was right, they turned white and clean, jasmine, lilies, even wisteria if the person had been someone especially good and merciful.

But redeemed sins weren't one or the other, they didn't smell like apples nor did they smell like flowers. Instead, they smelled like both.

Ayaka started to growl softly, the more she felt that smell the less she focused on the charcoal.

"Home, home, home, home."

Mister Sun felt under his arms how she let go of him, struggling against his hold the louder she growled.

For the second time Tanjirou confused Aya with Nezuko, because in that moment, she growled just like his sister had. The most similar to her, however, was that Aya smelled just like Nezuko.

Just like Nezuko when she had tried to kill him.

Aya struggled more, pushing against his chest for him to let her go and to finally kill whoever had her so angry. A spark in the form of smell, that was everything she had needed to be consumed by fury.

Tanjirou held her wrists and she fought, even more endlessly, kicking and trying to scratch him to the best of her ability.

"Aya, stop! What's wrong!? Does it hurt!?"

Finally she laid her foot on the ground. Even bent down as Tanjirou held onto her wrists, she struggled, tugging back with all her might. When she saw it was useless she kicked him on the stomach with her tsuneate and that made Tanjirou let go of her wrists with a pained squeak.

She tried to walk over him, to use him as a platform to jump, but Tanjirou's determination was strong and he got to grab her haori. Aya was pushed back and crashed against Tanjirou, as they both rolled over the floor before a sweaty Kanao, who watched the scene with doe eyes.

Aya went back to her feet as Tanjirou tugged the wisteria plastered on white cloth, desperately trying to grab onto something solid, an arm, a leg, even a finger, but he wasn't fast enough because Aya tugged one last time and the haori slid from her shoulders. Tanjirou fell back with it and now that she saw herself free, Aya ran, wherever she wanted to go.

"Home, home, home, home."

Oyalata-sama's haori stayed on Tanjirou's hand when he ran after her, yelling her name as if expecting for Aya to recognize it, but she didn't even turn around. She smelled of wrath, now that the smell of wisteria was gone, there was only wrath.

But it was different. Aya had always been furious with someone, but from that burning wrath there was nothing left. That wasn't like the other. It wasn't bitter, only salty, as if born from her own tears, and it looked like it had always been there, only covered by the more violent smell of the other one.

Aya ran through the Butterfly Estate and finally reached the doors to the garden. For some reason, when going out, Tanjirou heard her growling come to a sudden halt.

He found her paralyzed, fighting to breath and with both fists at the sides of her waist, blood pouring from them. As if she had squeezed so tightly she made herself bleed.

Makoto smiled at them both, soft as always. There was something behind that smile that said he already knew this would happen. He didn't look horrified at the fangs on Aya and he didn't look horrified at everything else.

"I have everything under control," he muttered, averting his gaze to Tanjirou, who held tighter onto Oyakata-sama's haori. "You can leave it to me."

Tanjirou took one last breath of air and looked at Aya, who stayed looking at her father. Blood continued to pour down her palms.

He gave a step back and finally left, still with the haori on his hands. It was the only thing that remained smelling of wisteria.

Makoto looked at him as he left, finally turning around to face his daughter.

"Do you wanna look at the sunrise with me, Ayaka?" Her father offered, patting his lap. She continued to stare, intensely, but never daring to growl or show him the fangs.

"O... O… okay," she managed to mutter with hazy eyes, slowly kneeling before her father and leaning her head on his lap.

Ayaka coughed, a weak and small cough, so pathetic it was pitiful to see her.

The blush on her cheeks remained although Yuu wasn't close and there was nothing to be ashamed of. Leaning her head against her father's knees, on the porch of their house as they both stared out, at the great storms that left their kindness fall over the rice fields.

It rained, which meant the rice would grow healthy and they'd be able to eat as much as they wanted that winter, without worrying about smaller portions to pay Ayaka's medicine or giving up buying pretty clothes. That brought her happiness.

"And seeing his clan was in danger, Nobunaga took the decision to bravely confront the forty thousand men with just three thousand soldiers," Makoto narrated, caressing Ayaka's hair who looked at him with wide open eyes.

"Did he win? Did Nobunaga manage to win?" She covered her mouth with both hands, giggling. "He's been fighting against his family to take over his clan, he can't die now! He must lead the family now that his father's dead! I'm sure he did a super strategy and killed Imagawa!"

Makoto played with one of her strands of hair, never ceasing to smile.

"If you keep interrupting, I won't be able to tell you what happened."

Ayaka puffed her cheeks out, crossing her arms over her chest and looking somewhere else. A moment passed until she muttered again.

"Then did he do a super strategy or not?"

"Yes, he did a super strategy," her father nodded in a defeated sigh.

She yelled in joy.

"I'm sure Nobunaga could have defeated even the emperor if he had wanted!" She imitated a sword tearing someone else's insides. "Nobunaga Oda defeats his enemies once more! Invincible Nobunaga, invincible Nobunaga! He'll unify Japan and will end all wars!"

Makoto weakly chuckled. "Nobunaga couldn't unify Japan by himself, don't rush ahead."

Ayaka looked at him as if he had said the most ridiculous thing she had ever heard.

"But Nobunaga was the strongest, I'm sure he could have defeated them all," she said with a pout. Then, more cheerfully, she exclaimed. "Some day I want to be like Nobunaga! I'll get you and mom a palace and you won't have to worry about food anymore! My rice fields will always be gold and since I'll be a strong samurai you won't have to by me any medicine! You'll dress with silk clothes everyday and Yuu will live with us too! All of us will be happy and-!"

Her voice was harshly interrupted when Ayaka was forced to flinch, being overwhelmed by a coughing fit.

"The samurais age has already come to an end," Makoto said, softly patting the back of an Ayaka with teary eyes. "You wouldn't be able to be like Nobunaga, at least not the Nobunaga you believe him to be."

Ayaka relaxed on his lap, the rain clattering nonstop and bringing with it the cold wind that made her shiver.

She played with the ends of Makoto's clothes, a frown displayed on her face.

"Yeah… I already know that, but it would be nice, right?" She turned around to look at her father's face. "But over being a samurai, I think I'd just prefer the rice fields, so you and mum never get hungry."

Makoto's smile widened.

"Hmmm, is that what you want?" Ayaka shily nodded, turning around so her nose rubbed against his stomach. "You're a very kind and good person, A-chan.

She looked at him in wonder.

"And why is that? I just love you and mom, I also love Yuu and Kobayashi-san, and Fluff too, do you think he'll like living in a palace? He'll leave fur everywhere but-" Ayaka interrupted herself when feeling a drop fall on her cheek, wondering if the rain had reached the porch. When a second one came, she raised her gaze to realize that the water came from her father's eyes. She got her feet in a hurry, leaving the lap she had been so comfortable in. "Dad! What's wrong!? Did I say something that upset you!?"

He squeezed her tighter against his chest in a way that Ayaka could only feel how her kimono got soaked, buried her nose in between his clothes.

"You're such a kind person and that makes me… happy," he muttered against his daughter's head. "That you aren't like me makes me happy. I also hope you get those golden rice fields you want so much."

"Dad," Ayaka worriedly called the more he soaked her clothes.

"D… dad…"

Her father's lap now felt smaller, but even if it was uncomfortable to lean her head there and Ayaka's neck ached, she didn't care.

She blinked to find that her hands had moved on their own, sinking the claws on her father's knees and tainting them further with blood.

And when she looked up, he was pitifully smiling.

"You're angry at me, right?" He started, never letting out any pained hiss. "I'm sorry."

Ayaka's red eyes stayed fixed on him and his face, the wrinkles that spoke of years of work, the brown on the eyes, the smile that never left his mouth. Ayaka squeezed on his knees tighter. He bled more, but there was no reaction from him apart from a slight furrow of his brow that disappeared as soon as it came.

"What do you… what do you… mean?"

That was the first time Ayaka saw her father abandon his smile and squint. Had he ever looked so serious?

"You're angry because I chose kindness over you and your mother."

Ayaka shook her head, looking at the green of the garden. The claws squeezed tighter.

"No… no.. that's not… no… I hate the village… the village… I hate the village… Because of what they did… of what they did to us.."

Her father grabbed her cheeks to force her to look at him, the harsher Makoto had ever been.

"You're angry because I let them take advantage of us, and I preferred to do that over not being kind."

She struggled against him, but the claws were already sinking deep on her father's flesh.

"No… that's not… true."

"Then why are you angry?" His father asked, making Ayaka look him in the eye as he kept her head still.

Ayaka growled and tried to get away from his touch.

"Because… because you… Angry because you… don't hate me." She huffed, still struggling against his grasp although never leaving his lap. "Because I left… I left and you don't… don't hate me. I'm angry because you don't hate me… It makes me… angry… yell… hit… hit me… what… whatever you want but do something... after the way… the way I treated you… after everything… why are you still… like this? why are you like this? I want you to do something… I don't care what it is.. but stop allowing others to walk… to walk… to walk over you."

Makoto seemed to pity her even if he was the one being walked over. The first rays of sunlight started to peek, bit by bit lighting the roof of the Butterfly Estate.

"I can't do that, as much as I love you, I cannot," he weakly muttered, that time without daring ay a hand on her. "I've wanted to live the way my mother left for me on her last breath, even if I sacrificed you and your mother on the way."

Ayaka's breathing was shaggy. "But you… you suffered… too?"

His father averted his gaze towards the horizon, slightly frowning. "No, I don't think I will."

"No?" Ayaka wondered, as if that made everything she ever knew crumble down.

Her parents suffered, her parents burned and her parents were miserable because they sacrificed their happiness for other people. That had always been true, ever since Ayaka could see, what did he mean by no?

"I spent a long time walking over others." A deep sigh came from the darkest part of Makoto's chest. "And I think hurting other people is… more painful than sacrificing other things… And I preferred for others to look at us over their shoulder instead of being a bad son. I've always know, that those people hated us, and I never cared. Although it must be hard to believe, you're not the only one who can see that kind of stuff. But I didn't know the consequences would affect you so much, or your mother either. I should have thought about it, but I'm just as selfish as you, I was only kind to follow my mother's words. I'm not kind the way your mother is, Ayaka, I was only satisfying my own ego. I'm sorry."

She finally frowned and pursed her lips back, daring to show him the sharp fans.

"I… hate you." Ayaka's voice was muffled against her father. "I… hate you… hate you.., hate you.. .hate you… all this time… all this time… I've hated you for being… weak... and pathetic.. weak, pathetic man… pathetic.. pathetic… you let them walk over you… you let them walk over us… I hate you… hate you… hate you…"

"I'm sorry you hate me." The only thing her father did was caress her hair, even when the fangs shone in the darkness. "It really wasn't my intention to make you feel like this, I guess that wasn't very kind of me.,, not that I'm a kind person to begin with."

Ayaka shook her head once again and got closer to his stomach, wrapping her arms around him.

"No... no he's not that… Dad… is a very kind person." She stopped for a moment to take in a deep breath. "Don't lie… dad's kind, because he's always been… good… no matter what… so don't lie… dad's a very… very kind person."

Makoto smiled, all sadness dissipating from his expression as his eyebrows relaxed.

"Is that what you think?" Ayaka's nose rubbed against his clothes when nodding. Makoto dared touch her cheek, Ayaka didn't flinch. "I'm glad you think so… But it's nothing special."

"Spe… special?" She repeated in confusion.

Dawn's sunlight slowly descended upon the Butterfly Estate's roof, banishing the demons to somewhere away until night fell again.

"Yeah," he nodded. Ayaka was now holding his hand, his daughter's skin was much colder than usual. "Even if not everyone around you will be kind and not everyone will be good, you have to stay on your feet and defend what you believe is right despite what everyone else says. That's what truly means to be a mountain."

Ayaka's face slightly peeked from in between his clothes, the place she had chosen to hide, and looking at him with eyes wide open.

"You didn't… you didn't hate the village?"

Her father tilted his head to the side.

"Did you?"

"Yes." Ayaka answered without a doubt. "I hated… them… but if I continue… doing so… then… then I won't be able to live a peaceful life… I won't feed the hate… nor the fury… anymore… Hurting other people… that way of living… it must hurt… So I refuse… to hate them anymore."

Makoto brought a hand up to his chin, seemingly in thought.

"Then what will you do? Will you love them?"

She stayed silent. Her father sighed, allowing all tension to slide off his shoulders.

The butterflies fluttered in between the flowers, like fish swimming in between the reefs at the bottom of the sea.

A dark sea in which Ayaka never learned to swim. The butterflies fluttered around Takeshi's head on the ground, who showed her a pair of fangs just like hers.

"No… No, I will not love them…" Ayaka finally muttered. "They do not… deserve it… But I… I guess… my compassion… I can give them as much…"

The sea was asphyxiating the more Ayaka spent on it unable to swim, but now she managed to stay above the waves. Somehow, there was something floating she could grab onto in order to breathe.

"That's a bold declaration, isn't it? You even look like a mountain," Makoto said, smiling at her. There was the compassion again. "I did love them… it's a pity they couldn't love me back."

Ayaka looked at her father, at the warm brown eyes she had inherited.

"I think… I think I'm dying," she whispered, when the Sun rose completely and illuminated Makoto's figure. "Will it hurt? Dad… will it hurt?"

He bent down to kiss her forehead.

"It won't hurt, I promise." He assured, the light of the candles weakly staggering on its last moments.

For some reason, Ayaka had the feeling that this would be the last time she'd see her father.

The poison finally kicked in and she closed her eyes. Not much time passed for her to relax and turn languid on his lap as the hold she'd had on her father's hand melted away, hand slowly going down.

"Ara, ara, as reckless as her aniki."

Shinobu Kochou's form appeared from the corner, one hand on her waist and a syringe ready on the other.

"Please, Himejima-san, don't ask me such things out of the blue, hmmm?" She warned, smiling, at the Stone Pillar behind her. "You have a certainly rude tsuguko."

Shinobu was covered as Himejima stepped in, the red beads around his toned arms clattering when he clapped.

"Namu amida butsu," he muttered. The river of tears so characteristic of him shone under the sunlight of dawn. "Sorry about the trouble, Shinobu. Ayaka is usually more careful, I don't know what happened this time. I must thank you for this." murmura.

Shinobu offered a vague wave to brush it off as she kneeled before Ayaka, giving the syringe a light flick before injecting it on her neck.

Instantly, Ayaka's skin acquired a much more alive colour, contrasting with the pitiful greyish white.

"No problem. Just make sure your tsuguko doesn't make Kanao break any more bones." Shinobu dedicated Himejima a closed eyed smile. "That demon could have easily been killed. Ayaka must have done something really stupid to end up like this."

She got up and brushed the dust away from her knees in two swift wrist flicks. As fast as she came, Shinobu disappeared in a flutter, the haori with the butterfly motif being the last thing seen of her,

Slowly, Ayaka stopped trembling. The claws turned smaller, the fangs stopped appearing sharp and the blood dissipated from the earth on her eyes behind the closed eyelids.

Himejima laid a hand on his tsuguko's head, over Makoto's.

"Please take care of my daughter in my stead," he asked the Stone Pillar. Himejima may have been blind, but you didn't have to see to notice the pain in the voice of Ayaka's father.

"Of course," he said, as stoic as a Buddha statue if not because of the tears.

Makoto thanked him with his last breath, the sight of his mother on the horizon rising along with the Sun. She looked so much like his daughter.

Silently, Himejima took Ayaka on his arms. He passed over the flowers and he passed over the nursery. Kanao didn't look, sitting on one of the beds there with Shinobu cursing her breath as she checked her leg.

"Aya…" Himejima abruptly stopped, turning around to hear more clearly at whoever had called his disciple's name.

Tanjirou clutched to Oyakata-sama's haori on his hand which was the only thing left of her. Aya had decided to go with Himejima, she had prefered to abandon him over staying and seeing him burn down. Hadn't she said that it would be painful? And that if he turned into someone like her father, she'd hate him?

«But you don't care about that» The furious Aya on his head hissed. «You'd prefer for me to stay, you'd prefer for me to get hurt over abandoning you! And you're so goddamn selfish because of it! How dare you wish such a thing!?»

"The demon kid." Himejima recognized his voice. "Do you need anything?"

Tanjirou looked at Aya's face, leaning on her master's chest. She was peacefully sleeping, this way she wouldn't get burned by the fire of his selfishness, and that was what she had wanted.

"No," Tanjirou said, bringing the haori up to his chest. "I don't need anything."

Himejima turned around again, walking in all his huge glory towards the door, but Tanjirou stopped him again.

"Himejima-san." He stayed quiet before the milky eyes of the Stone Pillar. He was, truly, immune to all the gazes from both the disciples and the master. "Have a nice trip."

He nodded before going out the door, he had to bend down in order not to hit his head. Tanjirou didn't diver his gaze away from him until he disappeared.

When he turned around, Zenitsu let out a high pitched scream.

"Tanjirou, uh… she," he hesitantly started, following Tanjirou to where the gods knew without being able to see the expression on his face. "A-chan asked me not to tell you anything and…"

He shook his head, folding Aya's haori and leaving it on the bed. Zenitsu stayed still, expectant. What he received from him was the same smile from the usual Tanjirou.

"Let's go train, Zenitsu," he said, brushing away the last speck of dust from Aya's haori and starting to walk towards the training hall. "Like this you won't get to use Full Focus Breathing all the time."

"But A-chan..." Zenitsu tried again.

"Aya decided to go with her master." Tanjirou shrugged, warm like summer suns. "In the end that was what she wanted, to train in order to become a pillar. And who am I to oppose."

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