Cold Cry sat silently on the steps of the Butterfly Mansion, dressed in a loose white patient's robe. His eyes remained fixed on the courtyard gate, unmoving—like a weathered stone statue.
Two days earlier, after being beaten down by the attendants and forcibly dragged back to his room, Shinobu Kocho had personally re-bandaged his wounds. When he woke later that night, he walked out and sat on the steps.
Since then, he had not moved.
For two days and nights, he neither ate nor drank. He ignored everyone who spoke to him, his gaze never leaving the gate.
No one knew what he was waiting for.
Or what he had lost.
The three attendants of the Butterfly Mansion avoided him entirely, whispering among themselves whenever they passed. Only Kanao Tsuyuri showed any interest.
To her, he seemed more like an object than a person.
After meals, instead of leaving, she would quietly sit beside him, gently playing with his snow-white hair.
From a distance, the two looked eerily alike—silent, detached, and strangely beautiful.
Kanao smiled faintly, though no one knew why.
Cold Cry stared endlessly ahead, though no one knew what he saw.
There was emptiness in Kanao's eyes—so she smiled.
There was too much in Cold Cry's—pain, longing, despair—so he remained expressionless.
His emotions had gone so deep that even grief had become stillness.
---
That morning, Aoi Kanzaki returned to the mansion after assisting with field support near a snowy mountain where demon activity had been reported.
The moment she entered the courtyard, the attendants rushed over, bombarding her with complaints about the strange boy.
Hearing everything, Aoi frowned—then suddenly seemed to recall something.
She walked toward the steps.
Stopping beside Kanao, she lightly tapped her shoulder.
"Is he interesting?" she asked with a teasing smile.
Kanao glanced at her briefly, then turned back to Cold Cry, continuing to toy with his hair without a word.
Aoi sighed. "It's rare for you to be interested in anything besides Lady Shinobu…"
Then her attention shifted fully to the boy.
"Hey. Can you hear me?"
No response.
Not even a blink.
Aoi crossed her arms, irritation rising. "Did he lose his mind? If he's really broken, what are we supposed to do—take care of him forever?"
As she muttered, she failed to notice Cold Cry's gaze slowly shifting—
Fixing onto the pendant hanging from her hand.
A pale blue crystal, shaped like a teardrop.
---
Suddenly—
Aoi's instincts screamed.
In a flash, Cold Cry moved.
Her body reacted instantly.
She flipped backward, landing lightly in the courtyard, hand gripping the hilt of her sword as she dropped into a defensive stance.
Her expression turned sharp.
The killing intent she felt in that instant was real.
"Kanao! Get away from him!"
Kanao paused, her hand still mid-air.
She looked at Aoi… then at Cold Cry.
Slowly, she placed her hand on her own sword hilt and stepped back, confusion flickering in her eyes. She didn't even seem sure who the enemy was.
---
Cold Cry now stood at the base of the steps.
In his hand—
The pendant.
"…Where did this come from?" he asked quietly.
Aoi's pupils shrank.
She hadn't even seen him take it.
Not even a trace of movement.
She was trained under the Demon Slayer Corps. Even if she wasn't a frontline combatant like the Hashira, she was still far above ordinary people.
Yet he had taken it… effortlessly.
Was it luck?
Or something far more dangerous?
---
"We found it beside you," Aoi said cautiously. "The day we brought you in."
Cold Cry froze.
A fragment of memory surfaced—
Snow.
Blood.
And his sister's trembling hand, placing the pendant into his palm.
---
This was hers.
---
For a moment, the world seemed to stop.
The killing intent vanished.
His rigid posture softened as he slowly sat back down.
This time, he no longer stared at the gate.
He stared at the pendant.
As if holding onto the last piece of someone he could never see again.
---
Kanao returned to his side.
And resumed playing with his hair.
---
Aoi stood there, speechless.
All her tension dissolved into pure frustration.
"…Unbelievable."
She turned away sharply.
"Mental case," she muttered, storming off. "If you want to starve, then starve!"
Her footsteps echoed angrily as she left.
Now there weren't one—but two strange people in the courtyard.
And somehow, they seemed perfectly matched.
---
Time passed.
From sunrise to sunset.
Then into night.
This was the third day.
---
Until evening came.
---
"Kanao! Dinner!" Aoi's voice echoed from inside.
Kanao immediately stood and ran off.
---
Moments later—
Cold Cry appeared inside the dining room.
Silently.
Like a ghost.
Everyone froze.
Except Kanao.
---
Aoi raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. "What? Finally hungry?"
She smirked slightly.
"Well, too bad. There's nothing for you."
The attendants chimed in immediately.
"That's right!"
"You ignored us before—now you want food?"
"Too late!"
---
Cold Cry ignored them.
His voice was calm.
"What are demons?"
The room fell silent.
"What is the Demon Slayer Corps?"
The attendants exchanged glances.
Annoyed—but unwilling to let him linger awkwardly—they answered bluntly.
"Demons are man-eating monsters."
"The Demon Slayer Corps exists to kill them."
One of them scoffed. "You didn't even know that? Where did you come from?"
---
Cold Cry didn't react.
Instead, he asked another question.
"Who is the strongest?"
---
This time, their expressions changed.
Almost instinctively—
They answered with reverence.
"The strongest is the Stone Hashira…"
Gyomei Himejima.
---
"I want to see him," Cold Cry said.
---
Silence.
Then—
Laughter.
---
"You?" one of the girls pointed at him, barely holding back her laughter.
"Did you hear that?"
"He wants to meet Lord Gyomei!"
They burst into laughter.
---
"Do you even know who that is?"
"The Stone Hashira isn't someone a nobody can meet just because he asks."
---
Cold Cry stood there quietly.
Unmoved.
---
But for the first time—
There was direction in his eyes.