Early morning, in the courtyard of the Butterfly Mansion.
Zenitsu was staggering toward the front gate with a pack nearly twice his height strapped to his back.
Meanwhile, his great big brother Inosuke stood arrogantly at the entrance, barking orders at the still-dazed Zenitsu.
"Hurry it up, Zenitsu!
This young master's time is extremely valuable!
If you delay the auspicious hour for inspecting your hometown, the interest on what you owe me goes up another thirty percent!"
"Got it already… Why am I the only one carrying such heavy luggage?!"
Zenitsu wailed miserably.
"And why are we bringing quilts?! My house has quilts!
And didn't you just get rich, Inosuke? Why did you turn all the leftover rice in the kitchen into rice balls and pack them?!"
"This young master recognizes beds! That's—
cough—this is my exclusive quilt!
What do you know? If you can take more, take more. What if you get hungry on the road?"
Inosuke said it with absolute righteousness.
Just as the two were bickering and preparing to depart, Tanjiro—who was hanging laundry in the yard—heard the commotion.
"Inosuke? Zenitsu? Where are you going?"
Tanjiro set down the bedsheet and walked over curiously, dark-red eyes filled with pure, simple confusion.
"We're going back to Zenitsu's hometown!"
Inosuke answered first, jabbing his thumb at himself.
"This young master is Tei-rank now, so I've decided to take this crybaby home in glory—and while I'm at it, inspect that place called Momoyama!"
"Going home?"
Tanjiro froze for a moment, then looked at Zenitsu.
Zenitsu scratched his head awkwardly.
"Well… yesterday I told big bro I missed my grandpa, and then he mentioned the paid leave, so…"
"I'm going too!"
Tanjiro suddenly shouted.
"Huh?"
Zenitsu jumped.
"Tanjiro, you're coming too?!"
"Of course!" Tanjiro clenched his fists.
"Zenitsu's grandfather—Mr. Jigoro Kuwajima, the former Thunder Hashira, right?
He's the elder who raised such an outstanding swordsman!
As Zenitsu's friend, I want to visit him and personally thank him for teaching Zenitsu so well!"
"And besides…"
Tanjiro's voice softened, tinged with envy.
"Being able to go home and see family is the happiest thing in the world.
When we visited Inosuke's home before, I felt really happy.
I… I want to experience that feeling again."
Zenitsu was so moved that tears instantly streamed down his face.
"Tanjiro! Why are you such a good person?! You're going to make me cry!"
"Hmph."
Inosuke crossed his arms nearby.
Though his face said what a hassle, the corners of his mouth curled up slightly.
"One more person just means one more pair of chopsticks.
But Gonpachiro, you're sharing Zenitsu's luggage on the road."
"No problem, Inosuke!"
Tanjiro immediately hoisted his wooden box, smiling like a little sun.
"I'll go tell Kanao and the others—we'll leave right away!"
Thus, what was supposed to be a duo trip turned into a noisy trio.
On the road to Momoyama.
"Boss! Sweet soy dumplings! I want twenty skewers!
No—thirty! Ten for each of my underlings! Extra sauce!
You there selling pinwheels! I'm buying your whole stall! Stick all the pinwheels on Zenitsu's head!"
"Why are they all going on my head?!"
Zenitsu was covered in pinwheels, looking like a dandelion.
"I have dignity too, you know! I'm a Kanoe-ranked slayer now!"
Tanjiro held dumplings in one hand and a map in the other, looking serious.
"Inosuke, I think we're entering Momoyama territory. I heard the peaches here are very sweet."
Zenitsu gnawed on the tenth skewer Inosuke bought for him, staring at the increasingly familiar mountain paths, his expression growing complicated.
"Hey, big bro…"
Zenitsu suddenly spoke.
"We're almost at Momoyama. That's… where my grandpa lives in seclusion."
"Your grandpa?"
Inosuke chewed his dumplings, pretending to ask casually.
"That thunder-god-looking old man who beats you until you scream?"
"Yeah."
Zenitsu sighed, eyes dim.
"He's very strict—the former Thunder Hashira. He treats me well, but I always disappoint him.
I only know First Form, I cry all the time, and I always want to run away…"
His body trembled slightly.
"And… besides Grandpa, there's someone there I'm really afraid of."
Inosuke's multicolored eyes narrowed slightly. Here it comes.
"Oh? Someone who scares you, you coward?"
Inosuke deliberately provoked him.
"Uglier than that rotten pot?"
"Not ugly… scary."
Zenitsu shrank back.
"My senior brother. Kaigaku."
"Senior brother?" Tanjiro leaned in curiously.
"Yeah."
Zenitsu kicked a pebble at his feet, head lowered.
"He's extremely talented. He can use all forms of Thunder Breathing—except First Form.
But he hates me. He thinks I'm trash and unworthy to compete as a successor.
He always yells at me, throws rotten peaches at my head…"
"Grandpa values him a lot. He's Grandpa's pride. The future Thunder Hashira."
At that, the smile vanished from Inosuke's eyes.
He knew Kaigaku well—
a man who would stop at nothing for power, arrogant and deeply insecure at the same time.
And yet… he was complicated.
If he'd been raised in a different environment from the start, would the outcome have changed?
In the original timeline, Kaigaku would meet Upper Rank One, Kokushibo, choose to become a demon—and eventually drive Grandpa to commit seppuku.
"Tch. This pisses me off."
Looking at Zenitsu—cowardly, but kind-hearted—Inosuke felt a fierce, protective anger rise.
"If that guy follows the original plot, Zenitsu will cry his heart out again, and that old man will end up…
I'm supposed to be a perfect villain now. How can I let such a cheap tragedy happen to my underling?"
Inosuke stroked his chin as a truly villainous plan took shape.
"In the original story, he became a demon because he ran into Kokushibo.
So what if… I don't let him meet him?
Or better yet—before he becomes a demon, I beat him into submission?
Beat him until he questions his entire existence?
Beat him until he realizes being human is better than being a demon?"
"…Or maybe… I'll just give him to my dad?"
Decision made, Inosuke's mood improved greatly. He slung an arm around Zenitsu's neck and ruffled his golden hair hard.
"What are you afraid of, Zenitsu?! Big bro's here!
This time, no matter what nonsense that so-called senior brother spews, I'll shut him up for you!
If he dares bully you, I'll plant him upside-down in the peach orchard!"
"Waaah! Big bro!
It sounds super violent but incredibly reassuring!"
Eternal Paradise Cult
Warmth filled the main hall as Kotoha taught the newly arrived Daki how to fold clothes properly.
"See, little Ume, fold corner to corner here so it stays neat.
That way it'll be comfortable when Inosuke comes back."
Kotoha demonstrated gently.
"Y-yes! Lady Kotoha!"
Daki had completely lost her former arrogance.
Wearing one of Kotoha's old outfits, she clumsily tried to pinch the soft fabric with fingernails capable of cutting rock.
Riiip.
With just a little force, the garment tore clean in half.
Daki turned pale and hurriedly looked to her brother.
"Brother! What do I do?! I tore Young Master Inosuke's clothes! Lord Doma will kill me!"
Gyutaro squatted in the corner, peeling potatoes for Kotoha with his blood sickles. Hearing that, he looked equally despairing.
"Ume… that was the Young Master's favorite outfit…
We're done for…"
Just then, a pink figure walked over.
Akaza.
Expressionless, he took the torn clothes. Aura flickered at his fingertips, and somehow a needle and thread appeared from nowhere.
Afterimages flashed.
In the blink of an eye, the clothes were mended—
even embroidered with a delicate little lotus to cover the tear, the stitching absurdly fine.
"Here."
Akaza handed it back to Daki coldly.
"Be gentler next time. Controlling strength is the foundation of martial arts.
If you can't even fold clothes properly, how do you expect to pursue the way of combat?"
"Wow! Thank you, Third Uncle!"
Daki was so moved her eyes brimmed with tears.
"Who's your third uncle. Shut up."
Akaza turned away darkly and went back to wiping the windows, movements practiced enough to make one ache.
On the lotus platform, Doma's smile slowly stiffened.
Annoyed. Truly annoyed.
That striped basketball wasn't just good at mopping and chopping firewood—
he could sew too?!
And what was that look Kotoha just gave him?
Admiration?
Then what was he—just a freeloader of a cult leader?
Doma narrowed his eyes and decided to pick a fight.
"Oh my, Lord Akaza."
He floated over, tapping a barely visible speck of dust on the window with his fan.
"This spot isn't clean.
Did you not eat today, or is Upper Rank Three's eyesight failing?
You can't even see such a big speck of dust?"
Akaza's hand tightened around the rag, veins bulging.
"That's… light. The glass is clean."
"Excuses."
Doma waved his fan mockingly.
"If you make a mistake, you admit it.
Looks like you don't want to stay in this household anymore.
Then you'd be unemployed—and if you're unemployed, you can't atone here, can you?"
Akaza took a deep breath, teeth clenched.
"…I'll re-wipe it."
Watching Akaza get shut down, Doma finally felt satisfied.
He turned to Kotoha with a radiant smile.
"Kotoha-chan! I'll help too!
I can freeze-dry the clothes with ice—just one second!"
In the corner, Gyutaro silently peeled potatoes.
Young Master… please come back soon.
Your dad and your third uncle are going to start a war over housework.
At last, they arrived at Momoyama.
Peach trees blanketed the mountains. Though blossom season had passed, the lush greenery was refreshing to the soul.
In front of a simple wooden cottage, a short elderly man with one leg, leaning on a cane, sat in the corridor basking in the sun.
"G–Grandpa!"
Zenitsu stood outside the fence, his voice trembling.
The old man snapped his eyes open—
the former Thunder Hashira, Kuwajima Jigoro.
Seeing the blond boy at the gate—still timid despite wearing a Demon Slayer uniform—his stern expression finally cracked.
"You idiot! Did you crawl back here?! Why are you so slow?!"
Kuwajima roared, lifting his cane and charging forward.
Zenitsu cowered, arms over his head—but the expected blow never came.
The old man threw the cane aside and pulled the trembling boy into a tight embrace.
"As long as you're alive… that's enough, you fool…"
"Grandpa! I ranked up! I'm Kanoe now!
I didn't disgrace you!"
Just as grandfather and grandson clutched each other, crying—
"Heh."
A cold, mocking chuckle came from the shadows, shattering the warmth.
"So that's why it's so noisy. The crybaby's back."
A black-haired young man in a Demon Slayer uniform stepped out. A jade magatama necklace hung at his neck.
Handsome features—but gloomy eyes and a sharp, arrogant edge to his brows.
Kaigaku.
Arms crossed, he looked down at the tear-streaked Zenitsu with undisguised disgust.
"Pathetic, trash.
I was just on patrol—how unlucky to run into you."
His gaze cut over Zenitsu, then swept across Tanjiro and Inosuke.
"Did you run back crying?
Or were you so scared you deserted and got sent home?"
"I heard you made Kanoe?"
Kaigaku sneered.
"That garbage rank anyone can reach just by tailing a Hashira and stealing kills…
and you think it's worth coming back to brag to the old man?"
"Do you even have the face to come back, you First-Form-only… waste?"
As he spoke, Kaigaku deliberately tugged open his collar, revealing the rank mark on his hand.
"Look carefully,"
he said arrogantly.
"I'm Hinoe now."
"Kinoe, Kinoe, Hinoe, Tei, Tsuchinoe, Kanoe, Shinoto, Mitsunoto, Mizunoto.
You're Kanoe. I'm Hinoe.
That's a difference of four whole ranks."
He laughed coldly, glancing at Inosuke and Tanjiro.
"In the Demon Slayer Corps, where strength reigns supreme, trash should know its place.
Don't think ranking up once means you can come back and show off to Grandpa."
The air froze.
Zenitsu lowered his head, unable to retort.
Then—
Crack.
A crisp sound shattered the silence.
Inosuke was slowly, deliberately crushing the bamboo skewer from his dumpling into powder.
He strolled up to Kaigaku, staring him dead in the eye with those multicolored pupils, flashing a grin a hundred times more arrogant than Kaigaku's.
"Hinoe?"
Inosuke lifted his pinky and picked his ear.
"Is that impressive?
This young master just happens to be Tei."
He pointed at himself, danger flashing in his eyes.
"Even though I'm one rank lower than you…"
"For some reason, looking at your face…"
"…I really feel like beating you until you call me Dad."
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