Wisteria flowers in the full bloom of their relatively short lifespan were a breathtaking sight. Giyuu admired the blooms, recalling Shinobu's preference for the darker colours. He wasn't certain why he had retained that specific detail, except that dark violet petals were swaying tantalisingly by. He did not reach out. Such a move would be foolish. The soft padding of feet called his attention away from nature's beauty. He glanced at the direction from which the noise came. "Young master," he offered by manner of greeting, bowing. Kiriya paused midstride, his expression cool, but not unfriendly. He suspected the boy would never be quite comfortable showing emotion in spite of his aura making it clear what he felt. Or it could be that he'd become fluent in reading such minimalist behaviours on account of using them himself. He half expected one his sisters to come up behind him, but either the girls were caught up with some task of their own or he'd not wished for their presence. "I am ready to give the report presently."

"You needn't have rushed your recovery on account of such." Kiriya sat down upon the porch, gaze slipping to the flowers. It was as much of an invitation as he was going to receive. "But since you have, let us then turn to the matter at hand. Have the demons grown weaker?"

"Not as weak as one might hope." Yet compared to Muzan they were as naught. Still and all, it would not do to forget that demons, weak though they might be, were considered a danger for very good reasons. "But with enough patience and perseverance, they can be eradicated."

"You foresee a swift end to the matter?" At that he shook his head. He did not believe the numbers to be great, but the demons knew well enough to hide away and secret themselves out of sight. "A pity and yet," the child trailed off. "I wonder what we will do after. Do such thoughts ever cross your mind?"

For a brief moment he considered declining answering. That particular tone of voice, he well knew, indicated the question was placed with some expectation. It then crossed his mind that were he in a similar position, he too would have looked for something similar. "At times. But then it is yet early days; who knows how long it will take us to rid the world of the demons remaining."

If or rather when the time came to move on to other matters, he could not rightly say he knew what he was going to do. "The world is changing. I suppose we must change with it." A particularly sensible approach, he considered. But then these children had always been remarkably sensible; likely ingrained into them by their departed parents.

It was then that Kanata came up the path, holding a flowering branch in hand. "There you are, brother. Kuina has need of your aid." Soft-spoken, she nevertheless conveyed with some steel beneath her words that he was to attend to their sister.

Excusing himself so that the siblings might converse without an audience, he took the path leading away from the porch and into one of the southern gardens. Not a very long time past, people would have milled about, running on errands, training or leaving for a mission. A great many of those people were gone, never to return, ephemeral as a bloom. The ultimate difficulty of life was its finitude. His thoughts wandered that particular path. They had done very well to eliminate one of the strongest enemies of life. Why then did he feel himself sinking into a pit of dissatisfaction? Lost in his thoughts, he passed blindly by the offerings of the verdant gardens. Ultimately, he reached a familiar point, a point he always reached in spite of telling himself it was better not to dwell upon the matter.

He reached a well-appointed bench, shaded from the glare of the sun and raised to good view. As there was no destination he had in mind and it was yet too soon for any manner of strain on his arm, he sat down. A soft breeze whispered through the blades of grass and leaves and flowers above. A few velvety petals abandoned their kin to drift away in a gentle dance. It was the manner of day where were one of a mind, they could pretend the world was no greater than the small garden with its singing birds and colourful blooms. Tsutako would have remarked upon the loveliness of the moment; she had done so more than enough times in their own gardens what seems like a lifetime ago.

Unease gathered. He did not hasten to shake it away, but rather allowed the feeling to simmer. There would likely come a day when the memories of his parents did not make him squirm and half-wish for the impossible. In the meantime, he had but to enjoy the gardens for Tsutako.

He might have gone on to enjoy the scenery were he not interrupted. "I thought I'd find you here." He looked to the side, seeing that Tengen needed no invitation to sit himself on the bench as well. "Sanemi said you had a bout of ill fortune, but to tell you the truth, you look no worse than you usually do." In spite of those words, detecting the strain of care in the man's voice was only too easy. "How's the arm?"

"Useless for the time being," he admitted with only a small amount of chagrin. "Aoi assures me it will heal well."

"If she assures you, by all mean. I shudder to think what should happen to any man left in her care for too long." Dramatics were ever Tengen's greatest talent and he used them frequently. "Just look at that Hashibira boy."

Giyuu blinked, uncertain what to make of those words. "What are you on about?" As far as he could tell, there was very little different about Inosuke or Aoi, let alone with regards to their relationship, if even there was one to speak of. Tengen's incredulous expression should have warned him of the approaching storm. In a clearer state, he might have cut the conversation short and walked off. But such being the circumstances that for the moment he experienced little desire to leave, he remained seated, ignorant of the outcome of his unawareness.

"This is your problem, you see. People think you do not notice because you do not care. And that is why they do not like you." He protested the notion that he was not well liked, but Tengen waved his hand in dismissal, barrelling on. "That boar boy sits with her for tea of all things. Even Tanjirou's sister has remarked upon it and actually took me aside to view flowers with her. Rather brazen of her. I must admit I found it most suited to my flamboyant nature."

The mention of Nezuko caught his attention. In truth, he could not care less about Inosuke and whatever entanglement he had with Aoi; they were old enough to sort it out between themselves. "Has she?" The question was softly spoken, more so for his own benefit. His worry stemmed rather from his opinion of Tengen. Nezuko would not attempt to draw him closer, but who was not say the man should not find her pleasant anyway.

"She grows well, that girl." Perhaps he could advise Sanemi to ensure Tengen had little reason for visiting. And if he did visit, he ought to not pester anyone. "Speaking of growing up, is it not time you did so yourself?"

Without turning a hair, Giyuu dismissed the question for the silly thing it was. "I am already grown." He'd forgotten quite how annoying such interactions could be. Suppressing a sigh, he held Tengen's gaze, daring him to venture further. More the fool him for thinking the other would be so easily dissuaded.

"You are a poor liar. But I will forgive you this once for such blatant disrespect towards your elders." Giyuu weighed the risk to his arm should he throw a punch and make contact with his companion's face. It was tempting and he suspected it would give him a sense of accomplishment. But the pressure it would exert on the sutures, especially if Tengen responded to the aggression, which he would, was a consequence he was not prepared to endure. As such, he responded with a shrug. "Have no fear, I will take care of you and Sanemi both."

Why did that not give him a lick of confidence that matters would work out just fine, he wondered ever so briefly. Unable to resist, he offered a small comment, "A relief, I am certain." Avoiding him altogether could work. He had done it easily enough before and he could do so again.

"That settles it. What a flamboyant occasion this will be." Was it possible that all that being knocked around by demons had left the man with some manner of injury that affected behaviour? Giyuu continued to muse upon the subject as Tengen dedicated himself to describing his plans in such a manner that they were incomprehensible and should have remained so even to the ears of an attentive listener.


"Inosuke? Embarrassed? I doubt he knows the meaning of the word." Tanjirou said it in the kindest of ways; it still produced a muffled chuckle from Nezuko. She hid her amusement behind her sleeve and tried to swallow as much of it down as she could. It is certainly not Inosuke's fault that he hadn't received proper education. She thought it exceedingly kind of Aoi that she was trying to introduce him to the norms of polite society.

"All the same," she managed, after having calmed down some, "Aoi insisted that I allow no one to approach. I thought it prudent to oblige her. There is no reason to make matters more difficult." He nodded along, a piece of braised pork between chopsticks suspended in midair. Sensing it would not do to linger on the subject, as she feared making any observation which might give away her suspicions, Nezuko sought another subject. "Does it taste good?" she finally asked, after no saving grace presented itself. It was not that she'd grown to mistrust Tanjirou. And it was not even that she necessarily wished to keep her observations a secret. But she was yet uncertain whether she had seen what was the beginning of a deeper bond or if she'd merely read too much into a gesture of friendship. She fished out a slice of ginger and placed it atop her rice, watching the colours blend.

"I don't imagine the emperor himself is eating better than I." Blushing with pleasure at his praise, Nezuko hurriedly put another piece of meat upon his rice. He laughed gently, presumably at her expression, chopstick lowering until they were safely down. "It is only proper to give praise when it is due." Reaching out, he petted her, the touch calling forth a bright smile from her. "And here it very much is. Tell me something, Nezuko," he trailed off after, as though unsure of how to proceed.

"What is it?" she questioned, her curiosity growing apace the lengthier the silence became. By manner of encouragement, she placed her fingers upon his sleeve, not quite pressing down enough for it to count as a touch. It steadied Tanjirou enough, however, that his request made it past her lips.

"Would you come to the graves with me?" She knew which graves he referred to. They were the only graves they had not yet visited. Nezuko considered her brother, at long last curling her fingers around his forearm. "The weather has been fine and we could make the journey as slow as you please. We could also make a few stops along the way." How could she refuse? Nezuko nodded her head, lips curving upwards in a soft, misty smile.

"Are you certain you are well enough?" No one would benefit from him falling over along the way. Much as she knew Tanjirou might have preferred that she not worry, it was best to have his certainty at least. And that he gave easily enough, assuring her that he would not even think to undertake the journey otherwise.

"Fit as a fiddle," he assured her with a grin. "Aside from which there are is something I wish to share with our parents." Raising an eyebrow at that, she was not especially put out when he gave an amused huff, but left her curiosity unsatisfied. "In this it is only right I approach them first." Nezuko supposed she had no reason to quibble over that. If her brother wished to unburden himself to his elders first, then that was as it should be. "Perhaps you too shall have something to share with them." That gave her pause; she speared him with yet another curious glance.

"You cannot say something as cryptic as that and simply end the conversation." As he did not hasten to explain himself, she pursed her lips, wondering if older brothers made it a special mission to annoy their younger siblings or whether Tanjirou was simply feeling bored. "I should like it very much if you told me what that was about."

"I've been thinking," he spoke between bites, "about what you said and about what can be done. Mother never made mention of a match she had her eyes on, so you must allow that I may need some time on this." He had taken such a small, offhanded comment to heart. Reddening for another reason altogether, she made a valiant attempt to assure him that he might take it at his own pace. "Come now, little sister, I know you well enough, I should think, to know you do not speak words you do not mean. It is not as though I find anything wrong with the notion either. Although, have you anyone in mind?"

Blinking in disbelief, Nezuko suppressed the desire to sit up and walk out on her poor kin. "I had not thought that far ahead." She attempted to recall her mother's advice upon the matter, but, as fate would have it, either the woman had never doled out words of wisdom to do with such a choice or if she had Nezuko had been much too preoccupied to hear. Whatever the case, she was bereft of clues. "And I cannot think upon the matter now." Tanjirou thought she never spoke what she did not mean; it had to be true to some degree. But that did not make every word she said a well thought-out idea just waiting to be followed.

Smiling apologetically at her brother, she resolved to weasel her way out of the tight spot with the aid of distracters. Thankfully, there were enough of those. Tanjirou, bless his heart, did not seem to catch on, but followed along blithely. At least in that regard she had good fortune; nothing to scoff at by any means.

At long last the meal came to an end and she excused herself, taking the empty bowls along, making her way to the kitchens. A fair number of empty dishes had likewise found their way within, she could see, And there was not another soul in sight. She glanced around, hoping against hope that someone would come. Alas, she was doomed to be disappointed. But the washing dishes was no one's favourite task.

With that in mind, she shrugged and placed her bowls and pairs of chopsticks alongside the others, in the large bucket filled with water. She went about the space, searching out misplaced items and when she could find none, Nezuko found her apron and tied the sleeves of her kimono out of the way. From there on it was a smooth path of scrubbing, laving and scouring until naught but smooth, polished surface remained behind. It seemed the braised pork had found itself an appreciative audience, were she to judge by the amount of dishes, a veritable mountain if she did say so herself.

No matter her joy, though, getting that amount of fishes clean was an endless cycle of bending, lifting, stroking, rinsing and then drying, over and over, until all that was left was a bucket of murky water and rice gains floating upon a slim oily film with a soft golden glow. Faint ache settled in her arms, giving her to know that she would have done well to search for aid. Yet the time was past, the dishes had been set aside and she stretched out, a relieved sigh upon her lips.

Nezuko followed that by drying her hands upon her apron, untying it from around her waist and putting it out to dry. Her goal once achieved, she made for the path leading up to her chamber and would have quickly passed on had she not heard quite the ruckus. She could not make out the words, but the raised voices were clear enough. Unwilling to allow such an oddity to remain unexamined, she quietly change course, the crunching of stones beneath her sandals positively lost in the din the closer she grew to its source.

She was somewhat taken aback by the sight that greeted her. In fairness, she had expected Tengen to be long gone. The former Hashira, however, was busy arguing with an irate Sanemi about the gods knew only what, while Giyuu watched the proceedings with something approaching amusement. His expression was a fraction lighter than the usual neutrality it exhibited so easily. She wasn't certain whether they noticed her all on their own or she'd made some manner of sound. Whichever of the two, a good number of eyes turned upon her. Her brain scrambled to find some excuse or another which would see her on her way, thinking that she'd interrupted them.

But her apologies went unheeded as she was beckoned forth. "Nezuko, perfect timing; the judicious insight of a woman is just what we need. If you would be so kind– " The rest of that statement would forever remain a mystery. One moment, Nezuko was staring into a handsome, only slightly flustered face and the next she was soaring through the skies, a small shriek muffled into a parti-coloured haori, fingers digging into sturdy cloth as roof tiles passed by. Wheyfaced and only slightly ashamed, she clung all the harder to him, hoping he did not decide to drop her unceremoniously to the ground. She needn't have worried. There was only one person capable of such insensitive handing and, to the best of her knowledge, Inosuke was in his bedchamber, hopefully asleep.

Her worries did not come to pass. In spite of his precipitous actions, they landed with a soft sound. Nezuko stared up at Giyuu, lips already moving in question. "That was reckless," she noted gently, "you might have torn the stitches." The thought, once having wormed its way into her head, held her in its grip. Reaching for his arm was easy enough, "I shall have a look."

"There is no need." He could have said that a thousand times more for all the convincing it did. Nezuko merely lifted her hands to his shoulders and pressed down in silent demand. Had he not wished to, he could have departed no his own terms, for some reason, however, he seemed none too desirous. With a soft sigh he sat down on the porch.

Nezuko gave him a cheery smile for reward before she fairly dashed off in search in search of a candle. Hoping to have no need for them, she took along needle and thread as well. There was naught she might use to cleanse any resulting wound, but if it turned out to be needed she could dash off and retrieve some of Aoi's concoctions.

"What are you doing?" She jumped at the sudden question, turning to see her brother, a curious expression firmly affixed to his face. She explained her purpose while he took some of her burden upon himself. "I see; let us be on our way then." She followed along at a sedate pace. Her brother's presence worked to settle her, dissipating the need for rushing.

Giyuu was precisely where she'd left him. Tanjirou offered a short greeting before sitting himself on his friend's left, leaving the right side open for whatever work Nezuko might concern herself with. They both kept their eyes of her, as though she might grow a serpent's tail and flee into the night. Biting back the urge to complain, she set to inspecting the wrappings binding his wound. There was no sight of blood. Nonetheless, she pulled the knot apart and looked to the layer beneath.

The sharp scent of Aoi's draught reached her just as Tanjirou spoke. "You could settle into helping Aoi permanently with her work, I daresay. You're quite the expert at this." Then he turned to Giyuu, nonchalantly asking after his opinion, "Wouldn't you agree?"

"If that is what your sister wants." What she wanted had very little to do with it. Looking between the two of them, she shook her head, attention falling back upon the uncovered flesh. The stitches held firm. The skin was only slightly reddened where the sutures brought the split flesh together. It was a far better outcome than she had expected.

"Does that mean you do not want to?" For a moment she experienced strong confusion at Tanjirou's question. Then she recalled having shaken her head just a few moments past. Truly, at times she quite forgot speech conveyed much clearer messages than any other motions she might come up with.

"Aoi would rue the day; I am well for small wounds upon occasions, but I could not do what she does." She hoped that was explanation enough. "I will return; do not move," she addressed Giyuu, deciding she would be changing the bandages as well since she had unwound them to begin with.


"You are being very good about her fussing." Giyuu gazed into the darkness of the courtyard as those words permeated his consciousness. "It eases her mind a great deal when she can see for herself that all is well."

"It is no hardship." In fact, were he honest, he'd have told Tanjirou it was quite the opposite. The envy churned in his gut once more. He ignored it in favour of conversation. "One is always pleased to have family who cares enough to worry." His thoughts turned to what was left of his own kin; did they wonder about his fate as he did about theirs? He'd never quite had the courage to go back and see for himself.

"So one is. She sees you as family too, in case you were wondering." He blinked, turning to face Tanjirou. "Nezuko thinks of all of us as family. You may depend upon it." A small twinge of pain forced his heart to contract. He wasn't certain what to say to that. He was not certain of much beyond his own sense of gratitude. Tanjirou grinned. "After all we have been though, it'd be a wonder otherwise." There was a question somewhere in there that Giyuu would not examine.

"You do not mind?" Bonds of friendship were all good and well, but they spoke of something altogether deeper. His own sister had been kindness itself, gracious and soft, but he did not recall her ever having expressed half as much concern for someone outside the family, baring her fiancé and his kin, as she did for them.

"I am glad she can look at others in such a light. It means she is healing." Of course, Nezuko needed to mend as well, but her wounds were unseen. Whatever cuts and bruises Muzan had given her, they'd healed, leaving no trace behind. The damage to the inside of her heart, on the other hand, was a different matter. "We are going to see our family soon; I hope we can say our proper farewells now that all we can do has been done." He was poised to let go of the past, it seemed. That was just as well, if he managed to coax his sister along. "Sometimes, I wonder if there was more I could have–"

He interrupted gently, knowing the path the boy headed down all too well, "It does no good to speculate upon it. As you were then, at best he would have ended you. Who would have saved your sister then?" He'd encountered Nezuko first, after all, and in her feral state, he'd thought little of taking her life. It was her brother's unwavering trust in the girl that had saved her. He could not have known the extent of her endurance, for he would not have taken the time to.

"I suppose you have the right of it," Tanjirou allowed. A sobering thought, to be certain. He almost wished for Tengen's inane babbling to lighten the mood. How the mighty had fallen, he thought with some bitterness. It was quite enough to restore a more jovial mood, as it turned out. He wondered if Sanemi had managed to see the other safely home; the gods knew those wives of his would think nothing of tearing the whole estate apart if he did not return in timely fashion. Quite dedicated, they were. Although, he was certain he did not understand how Tengen went about dealing with all three of them. Affection made all the difference, he expected, pushing the thought away. Best not to dwell upon the matter for too long. He had no head for it.

Further conversation was halted by the return of Nezuko, arms laden with strips of cloth, a bowl and a bottle. The scent was strong enough to immediately recognise what she'd brought. Without further ado, she reclaimed her earlier spot, placing down her offerings as though they were treasures. In mere moments, the small bowl was filled and bandages placed within, allowed to soak up the liquid. "Apologies for the late return. One of the girls moved some things and I ended up having to search quite a bit." As though she had any need to apologise for that. Their eyes met briefly as she gazed from him to her brother. You needn't remain, Tanjirou."

"I am perfectly content to stay." His sister shrugged at that, her attention snapping back to him. She offered no thoughts on her brother's actions. For his own part, he could read at least some of the reasons for which Tanjirou, mayhap unknowingly, refused to leave.

Giyuu would not torment himself with any of those thoughts, he decided, as soon as soft fingers traced a light pattern along his arm, parallel with the wound. He wasn't quite certain why that was, but there was a spark in her touch. Something heavy, like recognition, settled upon him. Eyeing her, he considered the girl before him only to realise that, unexpectedly, he was not looking at a child. As a demon, she had often assumed a smaller form and he suspected he'd grown placid with the knowledge that she would forever be one.

She was, though, quite far from being a child. There was a soft glow to her features, something of charm in her smiles and a streak of maturity to her eyes. Tanjirou's sister had grown in a subtler way but matured she had; that much no one could take from her. Tearing his eyes away from her, he stared out into the night, forcing his thoughts to follow a similar path as she worked to set him to rights. Her touch remained soft throughout, careful and warm as the rest of her. One might not think of it, but touch could say a lot about a person. Nezuko revealed some of herself through such gestures as well.

"By the by," Tanjirou broke the silence, "I heard something about the young master allowing the remaining troops to go out on their own for now."

"He did say something to that effect. It appears he believes the remaining demons can be handled just fine with a bit of care. We are bound to learn if it is otherwise." The notion was a sound one and should the troops require aid, it would be provided. He had but to hope Kanzaburo could be counted upon to relay the messages to him faithfully.

"To be quite honest, I am not surprised so many have remained," Nezuko offered. "I thought they would be returning home with the greatest threat removed." She tied a knot to secure the bindings, her work at an end.

Before he could think better of it, he said, "For some here is home." Nezuko's eyes glittered with something like understanding. She nodded her head, one of the ribbons she used to secure her hair out of the way daringly standing against the breeze passing by only to be tugged right along. "Even those who do have a home to return to may still wish to remain here for a time; it is not so easy to let go of after so many years."

"I do not suppose it would be," she murmured, raising a hand to her unruly ribbon, perhaps having sensed the danger. She felt along what had to be a small knot before coming to the conclusion that it would hold. "It is just that I thought some of them would be eager to see their family again."

He said nothing to that. It would be quite cruel to disabuse her of those notions when he himself hoped it could be the case for the remaining slayers. Having never delved too deeply into their history, he could not rightly say in any event. One presumed of those who joined that they had lost someone to demons; it tended to be the case. But who was to say whether or not that strengthened familiar bonds. For him it had worked precisely the other way around.

"A few of them are quite eager actually," Tanjirou piped in. "They stay because, and I've had this from their own mouths, they have a duty to help until the very end." Quite admirable of them if that was the case. "Since it cannot be much longer, everyone is willing to do their best on this last leg." It would certainly make the world a safer place for their families if nothing else.

"How is it that you've enough time for such talk? I thought Aoi was supposed to be taking care of your rehabilitation." Nezuko stood, moving until she was nearer her brother before she sat back down; the very soul of propriety.

"Aoi is dividing her attention between me and Kanao; that makes it a bit easier on a body." The explanation seemed to satisfy Nezuko. She nodded her head in acceptance, a thoughtful expression crossing her features before it was lost. He found himself curious as to what had produced such a reaction. "Speaking of, how long before you take up your next task, Giyuu?"