Sougo was settling into a peaceful afternoon alone with his headphones when Zaki came around, nose wrinkled. "What is that smell?"
"I wouldn't know. Living around Hijikata-san has ruined my olfactories."
"It's like . . . burning?"
Sougo hummed, disinterested as he turned for the door. "Probably nothing."
When they heard a series of loud sounds from the kitchen, Sougo was very rudely pulled back by the collar. "Oh no you don't."
"Let go of me—" but he was being dragged in the very direction he wished most to avoid.
In the kitchen they found several interesting things: a great deal of smoke; white powder settling in the air; and Hijikata, hair and clothes scorched, grasping a metal fork in his fist with a quilted potholder.
"Sougo. . . ."
"I told you stovetop popcorn was better."
He had already ghosted when the fork shot through the doorway.
/ / / / /
"It's a strange feeling, isn't it? Being safe."
Toshizō glanced down at her, lying in the grass beside him. The sun had warmed her skin to a cozy pink. "Safety is a lie," he said, sighing. "There will always be work for a man with a sword."
"That's not what I meant. Of course humans will continue fighting. But for us. . . ."
"You mean the demons."
"I don't have to worry anymore that he might steal me away. I spent so many years afraid of what the next day would bring that I almost don't know what to do anymore. It feels so. . . ." Her hand slipped around his and squeezed. "My life feels so big."
"Kazama never saw it coming," Toshizō said, plucking a long blade of grass and popping the end in his mouth. "Who knew garlic would actually work."