Inside Tamayo's hidden residence
"Your arm has been treated."
Tamayo set down the bandages, her gaze lingering on Inosuke's arm. The swelling had subsided, but faint bluish-purple veins still crawled beneath the skin, leaving her eyes clouded with complicated emotions.
"I used wisteria poison to temporarily suppress Muzan's cells, but they haven't disappeared.
They'll lie dormant inside you like sleeping seeds. Once your mental or physical condition reaches its limit, they'll surge back."
She paused, studying him more closely.
"And your body is… very unusual.
His blood inside you feels as if it's been frozen solid."
"Thanks, lady."
Inosuke flexed his left hand. The lingering numb pain made his brow twitch, but he still wore an unconcerned grin.
"A backlash?
Good. Might as well—could use something to wake me up."
He stood.
"You've got the blood you wanted.
Now I've got work to do."
"Work?"
Tanjiro, carrying Nezuko's box, looked worried.
"Inosuke-kun, your arm isn't fully healed yet. Maybe we should rest—"
"Rest my ass."
Inosuke cut him off, eyes turning toward the sky outside, already beginning to brighten.
"I ran into Muzan. That means my cheap old man is definitely going to worry about me again.
And once he starts worrying, that busted mouth of his will start nagging my mom, and then my mom'll worry too…"
The Eternal Paradise Cult
This was the very heart of the sect.
No one besides the cult leader Doma and the young master Inosuke dared to step within.
Snow lay thick across the courtyard.
Kotoha, dressed only in a thin night robe and wrapped in a white fox-fur cloak, sat beneath the corridor eaves, staring blankly at the courtyard gate.
In her hands she clutched a crumpled stack of papers.
They were letters—Inosuke's letters—delivered every few days by Butler Sato.
Most of them were little more than crude doodles:
One showed a stick figure holding two jagged swords, standing atop a pile of grotesque monsters, with crooked words scribbled beside it: "Number One Under Heaven."
Another showed him eating shrimp tempura, oil all over his mouth, with the words: "Tasty. Bring some for Mom."
The drawings were childish, but to Kotoha, they were priceless treasures.
Still, these past few nights her heart had been restless. She kept dreaming of Inosuke, drenched in blood, standing at the edge of a cliff, countless monsters behind him with jaws wide open.
"So cold…"
Kotoha hugged herself, pulling the fox fur tighter.
It wasn't the weather.
It was the loneliness in her heart.
In this luxurious yet icy Eternal Paradise Cult, Inosuke was her only warmth.
And now, that warmth was gone.
"Sigh…"
A soft sigh suddenly sounded behind her.
Kotoha jumped in fright, the letters scattering to the ground.
She spun around—and saw a face so beautiful it was almost inhuman.
Doma.
He wore the cult leader's ceremonial robes, a tall hat upon his head, golden fans in hand. His rainbow-colored eyes gazed quietly at her.
"L-Leader…"
Kotoha hurried to rise and bow, but a long, slender hand pressed gently on her shoulder.
"Shh."
Doma's fingers were icy cold.
"No need for formalities, Kotoha-chan.
I was just passing by, so I thought I'd take a look."
He sat down beside her, bending to pick up the scattered drawings. Looking at the arrogant little stick figure, he couldn't help laughing.
"Such ugly drawings.
This child's artistic talent really does take after me—none at all."
Though he spoke dismissively, he carefully folded the papers one by one and placed them back into Kotoha's hands.
"Thinking about Inosuke?"
Doma tilted his head toward her, his tone as gentle as if soothing a child who'd been wronged.
Kotoha's eyes reddened. She lowered her head, voice trembling.
"Yes… Inosuke's been gone for so long. I worry he doesn't eat enough, doesn't dress warmly… I worry bad people might bully him…"
"Bad people?"
Doma let out a soft laugh, as though he'd heard the funniest joke in the world.
"Kotoha-chan, you're adorable.
In this world, there's probably no 'bad person' worse than our Inosuke."
He reached out and gently brushed the loose strands of hair from beside her ear, his fingers gliding across her cheek.
"Don't worry.
That child was raised by me personally. Wherever he goes, it's already a blessing if he doesn't bully others."
"He's doing great things out there now."
As he looked at the woman crying softly before him, something incredibly rare stirred in the place where Doma's heart had long since stopped beating.
Was it because Kotoha was hurting… for someone else?
Even if that someone was Inosuke?
"Kotoha-chan."
Doma's voice grew lower, threaded with subtle persuasion—his specialty.
"Inosuke has grown up. He's an eagle; he's meant to fly away someday.
You can't keep him tied to you forever."
"Do you want to become his burden?"
Those words struck straight at Kotoha's weakness. She wiped her tears in panic.
"N-No… I don't want to drag Inosuke down…"
Doma raised both hands, cupping her face and gently forcing her to meet his gaze.
In his rainbow eyes was reflected her anxious, helpless expression.
"But you still have me."
Doma smiled softly.
"As long as you stay here, in this Eternal Paradise Cult… as long as you're by my side, you'll never be harmed."
"I'll stay with you always.
Until the end of your life… or until we go together to that sorrowless paradise."
"Come now—sing."
Doma released her and lay down with his head resting in her lap, eyes closed, looking utterly content.
"Sing the lullaby Inosuke loves most.
I'll listen on his behalf."
Kotoha wiped away her tears, sniffled softly, and nodded obediently.
Her song rose through the courtyard—still tinged with sobs at first, but gradually growing steady and calm.
Over thirteen years, subtle changes had begun to take root within Doma.
For the sake of Kotoha's smile…
He hadn't eaten a human in a very long time.
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