The night's experiences seemed like a bad dream for a brief moment. A hazy mix of memories and emotions suppressed by the catharsis of victory. Slayers cheered. They punched the air and each other. Some fell into embraces. Others cried, tears of joy slowly giving way to those of grief. The bad dream was becoming reality, the pains of body and loss sinking in.
Obanai struggled to ignore the ache in his shoulder, renewed and excited by every beat of his heart. His haori, down the front and back, were stained with streaks of crimson turning black and orange stretching from the wound. He had managed to use breathing techniques to heal the worst of it, but not even a Hashira could heal such a deep and wide wound. At least the bones of his shoulder weren't broken anymore.
Genya shook intermittently, more and more of his weight placed on the notably shorter and senior slayer. The wrappings around his face made him seem worse off than he was, at least in terms of physical injury. Whatever else was going on with him was still a mystery to Obanai.
Mitsuri hugged various slayers between wiping tears from her eyes. The taste of blood and bile mixed in Obanai's mouth and nose. Kaburamaru, the snake on Obanai's shoulder, struggled to stay awake. He had used a lot of energy to remain alert and help guide the partially blind Serpent Pillar through the battle. The snake mainly rested against Genya, careful not to lay too close to Obanai's wound.
Mitsuri practically screamed when she approached Obanai. "You're hurt! Iguro-san, we need to look at that." She was already pulling stained fabric from Obanai's shoulder to inspect the wound. Obanai shook his head. She was right, but the night wasn't quite over. "We need to be sure I was correct first and defeating Shinraku dispelled his minions."
Obanai looked out to the crowd, who were still mostly watching their champions, the three who had slain the master of the fort that continued to burn and crumble around them. Sho and Yumi almost jumped when Obanai's piercing eyes landed on them. He didn't even need to beckon them; they scrambled over, managing respectful, if not sloppy, bows. "Obanai-sama," they greeted, indicating he had their fixed attention.
"What happened out here?"
Sho spoke first. "We fought our way to the storeroom, and after Genya dismissed us, we found our way to the walls."
Yumi took up the recount. "We got ambushed, though; demons were waiting between the fighting on the wall and the storeroom. The explosion scattered them, though, and we broke off to flank the fighting on the ramparts."
Sho was nodding intently. "Though we eventually had to pull back and keep a bunch of those…" Sho was getting mad; it was evident in their voice. They had clearly stopped the next word from their mouth out of respect toward those they addressed.
"Bastards?" Genya grumbled.
"Yeah. We had to fight a bunch of those bastards to keep them from gaining ground and overwhelming all of us."
Yumi's brow was furrowed. "We were losing until they all started just falling apart. We didn't question it. We helped up the wounded and dead and pulled back into the courtyard before the structure could fall apart with us on it."
There was a moment of silence, Sho and Yumi looking down. There was something they weren't saying.
"And?" Obanai said.
"A few of us were almost lost in a collapse." Yumi was struggling with the idea.
"Narumi held up the structure long enough for us and the rest to get out. She…" Sho didn't need to finish the thought.
Obanai glanced over to Mitsuri, whose brave face did not conceal the tears streaming down her cheeks. Her voice was as strong as ever. "I'll help make sure we recover their body."
The next few minutes felt like a fog. Part of Obanai's mind was constantly on edge. The warm air against his bare cheeks reminded Obanai of his exposed scars. He felt vulnerable. The unease tugged attention from his thoughts, forcing him to struggle to focus on the disparate pieces of information being piled onto Mitsuri and himself. They were trying to organize the next steps. The recovery of Narumi's body may have been the most complicated, but she wasn't the only one that still needed to be reclaimed.
Eventually, two groups were created. The first were those too exhausted or wounded. They were to gather everyone they could, living or not, and transport them back to camp. Obanai and Genya would make sure the group got back to camp safely. They also needed someone to coordinate with the Kakushi if they ended up arriving. Mitsuri would stay behind with the remaining and work to recover the missing until everyone was accounted for.
As they set to part, Mitsuri wrung her hands before her waist. She struggled to make eye contact with Obanai's mismatched irises. "I haven't had a chance to say it yet, but thank you, Iguro-san. I'm happy you were here with me."
Obanai's blush was unguarded. "Me too, Kanroji-san. Be careful, please," with each syllable, his voice softened.
The smile Mitsuri gave, even with her face caked in ash and dirt, was peerless. She then turned her beaming attention to Genya. The boy was already staring intently at his feet, and the little visible part of his face was a deep red. "I'm glad you're okay; I thought you were really hurt back there."
The red tone of Genya's skin (somehow) deepened. After a huffing pause, he managed very subdued "Thank you."
Mitsuri returned to the Slayers staying at the burning fort with a quip to lift spirits. Obanai and Genya started off after those already heading back to camp. They ended up bringing up the very rear of the procession.
A glance back by the two Hashira allowed them to catch each others' eye. They exchanged little waves before they would each refocus on their current charge.
For the first few minutes there was quiet. The subtle trudge of tired feet beating over the chorus of insects and calls of nocturnal birds. Steadily, voices rose to fill the cliff-hemmed path.
Eventually, Genya spoke reticently, "I think I can walk on my own now."
Obanai conceded with a nod, pausing so Genya could experimentally put all his weight on his own feet. The two returned to a slow and careful stride.
"You didn't have to jump into that fight," Obanai remarked after a few paces.
Genya shrugged. "I'm a Demon Slayer; there was a Demon to slay."
Heat flashed to life in Obanai's chest. The anger quelled almost as quickly as it had risen. "It was unsafe."
"I know."
Obanai shook his head. After the exchange petered out, Genya once more returned new life to the conversation. "I want to become a Hashira." The comment hung in the air. Obanai's mouth felt like it was full of paper. There were plenty of remarks he could make about the ambition, but what good did any of them do? What response did Genya want? Did he want any? "You don't hesitate to act when there's a fight. Why should I?"
"You're inexperienced," was Obanai's suddenly found retort.
"How do I get experience then? It's not going to be by running from these fights." For a second, Genya almost sounded as rough and dismissive as his older brother. The resemblance became more apparent the longer Obanai found himself stuck near Genya. Maybe stuck wasn't the right word.
"The experience doesn't count for much unless it's survived."
"I survived this time, and so did you."
Obanai briefly glanced over at Genya. Why make that second point? Of course, he had survived. Though, that wasn't always a given. Shinraku had proven strong and more skilled than most demons Obanai had fought. With that thought, his gut twisted, and a pang of guilt tore through his mind. A slow inhale pushed the feelings away. Obanai didn't have the time or energy to process his emotions.
"Be mindful, you aren't some ancient ronin. You're a member of the Demon Slayer Corps. Everything you do has a consequence for everyone else. If you provoke a fight recklessly, someone else may wind up hurt. If you overestimate an opponent and fall, you only let them get stronger and put someone else at risk on that hunt." The observations seemed obvious, but hindsight made many things seem that way.
Genya nodded. "I know," he grumbled.
"I don't have patience for those that put the Corps and its members at risk."
"I won't," came through gritted teeth. Genya's shoulders were tense and his walk was rigid. The point had been made.
Obanai sighed heavily to conceal how he forced his throat to soften his voice. "You did well, regardless."
Genya didn't reply or take his eyes off the path. Yet, the tension dropped from his shoulders, and his walk melted into something more natural.
There was another long stretch of silence. It started to feel like they were trapped on the path. It stretched in either direction to a destination that looked far away and didn't seem to be getting any closer. Perhaps it was the towering cliffs that shrunk the horizon to a sliver.
Above, the stars yawned, their lightly fluctuating glow marking the depth of the night. The air, no longer injected with smoke and gore, was cold and bore the subtle scent of pine sap. Obanai's teeth ground together as he could feel the fresh air over his lips.
"About," Genya trailed off, scaring the silence away again. He eventually concluded with, "my state." It confirmed he wanted to talk about a thing Obanai had suspected he'd bring up at some point.
Obanai held up a hand. "The less I know, the better." The two exchanged looks. A curled finger pointed at Genya, "You are tampering with something dangerous. I don't want your excuse. Just know, if you ever endanger others, you will answer me."
Genya nodded, almost seeming relieved despite the apparent threat.
Finally, the camp was coming into view. The cliffs pulled further apart, allowing the bivouac to rise to meet the returning warriors. Once among the ashen remains, Obanai made sure the bodies were treated with the same respect as those that fell in the first conflict. They were wrapped in what fabric could be scavenged and placed in the corner of the camp. The wounded were given space to find as comfortable a position as could be managed. Those with less exhausting wounds helped start fires to boil water and try to salvage some bandages. Despite the severity of the situation, it had an air of familiarity. Something like a Sunday routine. Eventually, Obanai informed those gathered he would head down to the main path with Genya, and they would serve as lookouts. Hopefully, they only had to be alert for the Kakushi.
Obanai found himself back at the departure from the main path where he and Mitsuri had first encountered the other Corps members maybe a dozen hours earlier. Obanai sat on a low branch, back to the trunk, one foot dangling down. He wasn't trying to hide; he simply found the position comfortable. It was natural, the way one might feel about a flat-topped rock near a river. Genya stayed on the ground, leaning against the base.
Kaburamaru, who had been freely drifting in and out of sleep, pressed his snout against Obanai's cheek. A gentle reminder, a push. Obanai took a deep breath.
"You fought well," Obanai commented, trying to sound too natural. It wasn't a lie. The Hashira's tongue wasn't used to casual encouragement. It felt like wielding a poorly balanced and rusty sword.
Genya's gratitude was so faint and delayed that Obanai almost missed it.
"You also performed admirably leading the charge. I was grateful to have you in the siege. It took a weight, even if slight, from Mitsuri and I's shoulders." Obanai couldn't resist tempering his praise. Genya was quiet. When Obanai looked down, he saw Genya staring at the dirt, allowing the Hashira to see only the back of his head.
It was a surprise when Genya did speak. "I meant it earlier. I want to be a Hashira."
"You know I can't take you on as Tusguko." The response from Obanai elicited a subtle and slow nod. "You're not quite ready anyway." A strained fist formed at Genya's side.
"I'll become a Hashira." Obanai wasn't sure if Genya was informing the Serpent Pillar or himself.
Obanai's eyelids became heavy as the watch dragged on. He was weary, tired. He wanted to rest. There was little risk of him falling asleep; the throbbing network of pain in his shoulder was more than enough to keep him up.
The first sign of looming relief came from Yuan, Obanai's Kasugai Crow. The bird cawed as it descended onto a branch near Obanai's cheek. "Kakushi approach," Yuan said.
"Please make sure they don't get lost," Obanai requested. Yuan cried out before spreading its wings and taking back toward the sky. A shift of weight let Obanai drop to the ground beside Genya. Even leaning against a tree and slouching, Genya was taller than Obanai, yet Genya was still the smaller presence.
The Kakushi were heard before they were seen. The heavy fall of their feet and mundane chatter gave them away. "Hey!" One of the Kakushi called out, picking up their pace at the sight of the two slayers.
"Your shoulder!" Another of the aids called out upon getting close to Genya and Obanai.
"I'll be fine. There's worse at the camp." A hand raised to point at one of the smaller Kakushi, who seemed to start sweating. "Do you have bandages?"
"Ye-yes?" The sweating intensified when Obanai scowled at their delayed understanding. They fumbled in their supplies to eventually produce a folded stretch of bandages.
Obanai began to unfold the cloth. "Genya, show them up the hill, please."
"Come on," Genya grumbled before leading the new crowd away. Obanai let the Kakushi pass while he worked the bandages around his jaw to hide his scarred features. When he exhaled deeply, Obanai became aware of how unnerved he had been despite the danger having been long passed.
Obanai's solitary walk back to the camp was slow. The delay was purposeful. Of all the things that could happen now, interacting with a bunch of people sounded the most exhausting, especially if Mitsuri wasn't among them. He had barely crested the path at the edge of the camp when someone from several ruined tents away shouted out. There was no mistaking the source, infectiously relieved and excited.
Mitsuri jogged up to Obanai, slowing to a stop a few steps away. One shoulder leaned inward with her arm hanging down. The opposite hand hovered in front of lips spread in a characteristic smile. "Iguro-san, you're back. Is everything alright?"
"Yes, no need to worry."
Kaburamaru was groggy, coming out of another short nap. The sight of the Love Hashira was a rush of joy to help fight off the remnants of slumber.
"Oh, I'm so glad. With you here, everyone is at camp now."
Obanai nodded; he knew what she meant. Everyone, living and dead, was accounted for.
"Are you alright?"
"Mm-hmm," Mitsuri hummed positively. The waver of a nearby torch exposed the bright pink on the Hashira's cheeks. Her eyes shut as if in thought for a moment. Obanai waited, accustomed and comfortable with Mitsuri's occasionally long pauses. "Oh! How are you? How did the Kakushi care for your-" Mitsuri trailed off, taking a small step forward. Her lips pursed. "They haven't seen to your shoulder yet?"
"I dismissed them. There are worse injured."
"You're no good if that heals poorly. Oh, if Shinobu was here," Mitsuri said. Unprompted, she ran off. Obanai's expression flattened. He should have known better. A shocked-looking Kakushi was suddenly sliding over the ground toward him, Mitsuri pushing the aid toward the Serpent Hashira. "His shoulder needs care!"
"Ye-yes, ma'am!" The Kakushi responded, tone mixed between encouraged and terrified. The Kakushi tried to make it seem like she wasn't shaking in front of Obanai. Even she was taller than the Pillar. She cleared her throat before saying, "I need you to sit near the fire and take off your Haori." Her voice broke a few times.
Obanai only nodded and then moved toward the fire the Kakushi indicated. While removing his haori, it struck just how painful it was to move his stiff shoulder. Kaburamaru spun around Obanai's neck, shifting weight to accommodate Obanai's effort. Obanai folded the garment and handed it to the shaking Kakushi following him. Mitsuri grabbed the Haori from the aid and held it close to her chest.
Obanai sat on a wooden box, and the aid knelt beside him to fill an abandoned pot with water from the large gourd they carried. Mitsuri sat on a rock facing Obanai. As the Kakushi waited for the water to boil, she asked about the injury.
"The demon had an odachi," Obanai said. His explanation was simple and straightforward, but it did nothing to slake the Kakushi's curiosity. Kaburamaru took the opportunity to weave his way down to Obanai's lap, laying over the forearm of his uninjured arm and across his thighs.
"Yeah!" Mitsuri chimed in. "He was this broad monstrosity, all muscles and shoulders." She puffed out her cheeks and tensed her shoulders, imitating her description.
"Oh? Was he powerful?"
"Veerrryyy. He was able to summon this whole army of undead. During the whole fight, he was like," Mitsuri imitated a guttural growl and then swung a hand through the air with a verbal "Clat!" She sat straight, going into her rendition of the next part. "Oh! He had a few of these elite guards. They were supposed to be all scary, but Obanai and I just, swoosh swish, and they went puff." The exaggerated hand motions and sounds caused a few other Kakushi and nearby slayers to take notice. Some stopped in their tracks, others moved closer, and a few even sat at the fire.
Mitsuri would look from face to face as her story continued. "The demon got real mad. When we rushed in, we were all woosh, but he was clang and boo, and I went wooo and cla straight through a pillar!"
The water over the fire was starting to boil. The Kakushi attending Obanai removed the pot and threw a rag in to soak. Obanai rarely glanced from Mitsuri, curious as to how her recount could be so light yet so engrossing. Perhaps the mere mention of a big fight with a powerful demon was enough to have imaginations running. She was telling how Obanai was guarding against one overhead strike against the other. The serpent Hashira felt the heat building in his cheeks. Mitsuri's recount was far more flattering to Obanai, making his stand against the onslaught seem far more resilient than it had been in reality. "Clang, clang, clang," Mitsuri said. "He was so mean! And I let him know that as I tried to take his sword. Iguro-san was so fast! He was immediately hhssshaa," she imitated a swing with the black and white haori in hand. Her glowing green eyes fell on Obanai with such warmth that Obanai felt he could melt. The flicker of fire and Mitsuri's face were all that existed for that brief pause in the story. Attention zoomed out as warm and wet cloth was pressed to Obanai's shoulder. Obanai's brow creased, muscles aching as he forced himself to avoid tensing reflexively.
Mitsuri described the exchange of blows as a series of sharp sounds and hand swings. She detailed how her heart raced, "Ba-ba-ba-bump ba-bump ba-bump," while she and the demon tested each other's strength. The growing crowd gasped as Mitsuri described being thrown through the room. They cheered louder as she detailed how Genya "dropped in with the moon streaming around him." It wasn't quite how Obanai remembered the moment, but it was an intense moment in the recount.
Obanai had to focus on not biting his tongue as needle and thread were worked through the wide break in his skin. He was vaguely aware of Mitsuri describing how he and the demon were matched in sword skill. "Then Genya!" Mitsuri clapped her hands together. "He matched Shinraku's odachi. Then gyush! Obanai buried his sword in the demon's neck!" The crowd gasped and tentatively cheered. "But he wasn't dead!" Gasps and boos.
Obanai lost track of the next few story beats, thoughts focusing on controlling his breath against the piercing and tugging of flesh. Even through the fog, it was hard to miss the cackling as Mitsuri affected a deep, gruff voice to imitate Genya saying, "You stupid monster." Mitsuri leaned back, hands moving together before snapping out. "Boom!" She bellowed. She told a captivated crowd how the demon looked foolish while missing part of its face.
"Alright, we're done with that," The Kakushi said to Obanai. The aid used a low voice, almost a whisper. They clearly didn't want to interrupt the Love Hashira's story. Obanai's shoulder was sore, a pressure sitting atop the pulsing pain. The Kakushi was retrieving something from their belt. The lid of the object flipped open to reveal a pale green paste.
Mitsuri paused in her story to catch Obanai's eye. She was leading up to the final moments. Obanai found himself recollecting this part of the story with a favor that made his heart skip a beat. He could recall sharply what it was like to match his breathing to Mitsuri's and the rush from being in sync.
"Iguro and I, we looked at each other," Mitsuri announced to a crowd of held breath. "Without saying anything, my heart just knows. Ba-bump, ba-bump. And then..." she trailed off into a series of noises imitating sword swings and clashes. "We fight like two hands of the same body. The demon couldn't keep up. Then! I geerraaww -grab his arm. Iguro jumps behind. As Shinraku turns -rrrriiiiiyyyypp! I pull his arm off!" The crowd could barely contain themselves.
Ice dropped into Obanai's gut as something warm pressed around the sealed wound. The warm weight quickly turned cold. The pain turned to a dull throb of pressure, like a bruise kept pressed under a firm thumb.
"Shink! Thud! We removed his head." Mitsuri smiled wide, letting the crowd rise to a cheer. The story was over, and the champions had won the approval of those gathered. The slayers and Kakushi slowly dispersed, talking amongst themselves, some clearly reveling in the heroic moments of the Hashira.
"Try to avoid putting too much strain on your arm. With enough rest, it shouldn't even scar." The Kakushi was using a fresh cloth to clean off their hands.
"Thank you," Obanai said.
"No problem! It's the least I can do for you and the others that do the fighting." The assistant then gathered up their stuff to go find the next person in need of attention. However, given the current mood of the encampment, it seemed there wasn't much that needed immediate care anymore.
Mitsuri leaned closer, Obanai's haori splayed on her lap. "How are you feeling now?"
"I'm fine."
"That's great!" She sat smiling for a moment before sitting straight. "Oh, here's this back." She held the haori out at arm's distance toward Obanai. She held the coat high, doing little to hide the blush splaying across her cheeks like fire across wax paper.
"Thank you." Obanai took the haori and slowly pulled it over his shoulders, letting it drape around his frame. As Obanai stood up, Kaburamaru shifted to sit around Obanai's currently good hand. "I'll compose a message for Oyakata-sama."
"Good idea! He'll want to know the situation is over."
Obanai nodded. He knew the master would also want to know how many of his 'children' (as he affectionately referred to the slayers) he had lost. Obanai wanted to take on the task of tracking down all the individual stories. It was never easy, and it was something that if he could spare Mitsuri from going through, he would. It wasn't easy to explain the other reason, even to himself. Somehow, Obanai felt more responsible, even if there was no difference in rank and authority between the two Hashira.
Tracking down the individual stories proved to be an endeavor. Frequently, another Slayer only had part of a comrade's story. Faulty or incomplete memories made putting together a cohesive sequence of events difficult. The effort was made more difficult as Slayers began to fall asleep. Some had pulled out mats or cobbled together something from bags and excess clothing, whereas others just found a relatively clean patch of dirt to lay on. Eventually, the various stories were collected, and against firelight, in a shaky hand, Obanai composed his missive to the Corps's leader.
"Oyakata-sama,
I hope this missive finds you in better health. Mitsuri Kanroji and I have helped overtake the fortress and slay its master. I fear the Corps is not without loss. I will relay their brave sacrifices for you and whatever family they have beyond the Slayer Corps.
Narumi Inoue gave her life in a feat of strength against collapsing stonework to save many of her Corps siblings.
Rina Matsuura, Kiyoshi Arakawa, Tsubasa Ishikawa, Shiori Fujimoto, Keiji Uesugi, and Shinzo Ono were those lost in the fight on the castle walls vital to the operation and the rest of the team's survival.
Rina Matsuura tackled a demon with a loaded rifle as they took aim. The tackle resulted in Rina Matsuura getting a lead ball embedded in their side. They bled out after a dozen more demons were killed.
Kiyoshi Arakawa was overwhelmed by demons. They did not suffer, the spear to their heart an instant death.
Tsubasa Ishikawa lost their leg but slayed four more demons using a stolen spear as a crutch. The demon that eventually slayed them was shaking in fear despite striking from behind.
Shiori Fujimoto was last seen alive using Fire Breathing to protect less experienced Corps members. Their body was retrieved from a mound of ash.
Keiji Uesugi broke their sword on the enemy's armor. Next, he broke an enemy's sword. Then another, and another, and yet one more after those. With bloodied hands, he resisted the sword to his gut but ultimately lost.
Shinzo Ono was pushed from the rampart after they managed to deflect onslaught after onslaught.
Michio Nishimura fell in an ambush as the Slayers attempted to find a route to flank the fighting on the wall.
Ryuji Mizuno stopped their friend from falling to their death, but as they held their friend up, they were set upon by demons. Ryuji Mizuno refused to die till their friend had been pulled back up.
Jiro Shimada blocked a sword with their wrist to protect their friend. The strike was too deep in the heat of battle, and blood loss claimed another of our number.
Oyakata-sama, I extend my deepest apologies. Their losses are heavy on my heart, and I know they weigh heavier on you. In terms of small victories, all the bodies have been recovered."
As Obanai penned the last of his letter, he became acutely aware of the pen's weight. It rolled in his fingers like an accusing nail, as if using it to record the fates of others sealed them in reality. Obanai set the pen down and closed his mismatched eyes for a long moment, blindly looking up from the page. Without eyes and with a single good hand, he began to fold the note.
Opening his eyes, Obanai noticed the horizon turning amber. The sky was becoming a velvety navy. The forest smelled of dew, and crickets were replaced with the chatter of songbirds. Morning was approaching.
A loud yawn forced Obanai to realize Mitsuri had been sitting nearby on the other side of the fire the whole time. She was slumped over, elbow on her knee and chin in her palm. "Did you get any rest?" Obanai asked.
"Enough," Mitsuri said. She smiled effortlessly.
"Our special mission is over," Obanai observed. He hoped the disappointment he felt stayed out of his tone. Mitsuri nodded, slowly getting up onto her feet. "So where to next? I intend to return to my estate; I've been away for a few weeks."
Obanai passed the note he had written to Yuan, who took it with a cawing, "Delivery for the master!"
"Mmmm," Mitsuri hummed, her arms stretching over her head. She tilted to the right in her continued stretch. "I think first we need to go find something to eat. I'm starving!"
Obanai's eyes shut momentarily. His smile was hidden under his fresh mask. Kaburamaru mimicked Obanai's feelings openly. The snake tilted its head up at Mitsuri in wrapped adoration. "Alright, let's get something to eat."
Obanai tried to get up independently but faltered when he realized he couldn't use his dominant arm. Mitsuri wordlessly offered him a hand that, when taken, helped pull the shorter Hashira to his feet.
"I have some parting words for Giyu, though. Do you mind waiting?"
"Not at all. I'll ask some of the other slayers if they know where the closest village is."
Obanai found Genya up alone in one of the few tents left standing. He had removed the bandages from his face which had entirely returned to normal. The younger slayer was in the middle of making sure he had everything packed. When Obanai entered, Genya mumbled some form of greeting.
"Mitsuri and I are leaving soon as well," Obanai said.
Genya nodded. "I got a new task this morning. I'm to head south of this damned mountain." Genya slung his pack over his shoulder as he stood up. "If.." Genya began, failing to make eye contact with the Hashira. Obanai waited in the long silence for whatever the other warrior was building toward. "If you see the Wind Hashira..." Genya trailed off once more, his voice faltering to a softness Obanai thought him incapable of. The Wind Hashira, Sanemi Shinazugawa, Obanai's closest friend and Genya's older brother. Given what Obanai had gleaned of their relationship, he hadn't expected Genya to mention Sanemi.
"I'll tell him all I saw here," Obanai informed, as avoidant in answer as Genya was in request.
The two stood facing each other. Whatever Obanai had to say to Genya now seemed small and fleeting. In that brief moment, Genya wasn't a confrontational and hard-headed fighter but a vulnerable boy. It struck a cord within Obanai. He still wasn't sure about the nature of Genya and Senmi's relationship, but he could sense the confused desperation that came with needing the support of someone who had none to offer. Eventually, Obanai just said, "Best of luck on your new assignment."
Genya mumbled what Obanai could only assume was some form of "Thank you."
The two turned and left the tent, almost running right into Mitsuri. "There you are! Oh, hi, Genya. Are you on to your next assignment?"
Genya was suddenly standing stiff. He nodded his response, lips pressed tightly together. Obanai emitted a gravelly exhale, watching Genya's face turn red.
"Please be safe," Mitsuri said, throwing her arms lightly over Genya's shoulder. Genya's eyes widened, and his face burned bright. Obanai would have laughed if not for the sudden frustration throbbing in the back of his head.
Once released, Genya managed an awkward bow and farewell. As he departed from the camp, Mitsuri turned all her attention back to Obanai. "Find anything out from the others?" Obanai asked.
"Unfortunately not," Mitsuri said with an exasperated exhale. Her eyes fluttered shut with her fallen expression. She recovered quickly. "Though I think I saw signs of a village a bit further east at the foot of the mountain. I bet there's a branch in the path leading that way if we keep an eye out for it."
"Understood," Obanai said before finding himself dragged forward. Mitsuri put a hand on his good bicep and started the two back toward the main path.
"I'm so excited," Mitsuri almost sang. "And so hungry," she added with a chuckle. It put a warmth in Obanai's chest that would be slow to fade, a comfort he didn't have a name for.