As she pressed further on, Inori found more and more bodies.
She counted carefully. Fifteen, give or take—nine men, six women. Not a single one of them was intact. The manner of their deaths bore a grim consistency with the first boy she'd found: critical joints destroyed with brutal force, leaving the victim immobilized before the killing blow, or heads separated from shoulders, or internal organs simply crushed. Every one of them had died terribly.
Inori lifted the hem of her skirt, crouched, and slowly, carefully, closed the eyes of a young female swordsman who had died with them wide open.
It was the only thing she could do.
"I didn't expect this many..." She looked up at the half-moon midway across the sky, feeling an unspecified tiredness settle over her. "And I have no idea what point in the story this is."
Maybe it was just the aftershock of crossing two worlds in succession—the sensation of having been perfectly comfortable on a private jet, drinking juice and half-singing to herself, about to sleep, and then simply waking up in a desolate mountain forest full of demons. That kind of thing did take something out of you.
A strand of pink hair slid forward and fell across her eyes. Inori tucked it back behind her ear, then pressed a hand against her silk-stocking-clad thigh to push herself upright. As she rose, her gaze dropped to the dramatic décolletage of her open-chested top—and she immediately crossed both arms over her chest, crimson eyes flickering with an unsettled, restless unease.
How on earth did the original Inori manage to walk around in public dressed like this.
Might as well just rename the Nameless Monster "Kamui Senketsu" at this point—the operating principle was identical: find creative ways to make your host put you on, then refuse to come off until she learns to overcome her embarrassment.
—Now, that's not like you, Inori-chan.
Mana had caught the reaction, but she didn't tease. She was, for once, thinking seriously on Inori's behalf.
—You should have more confidence. With those senses, with the Feather Blades filling the gap you always had at range—you really are something now. And you just handled that demon without breaking a sweat.
"That demon was nothing."
Inori let out a slow breath.
She had just figured out the source of the unease that had been sitting in her chest.
—Mana. I really dislike when unexpected things happen. I prefer to understand where things are going so I can make a plan in advance—that way nothing catches me badly off-guard. Even when Yoshikage Kira awakened new abilities, I could still use my so-called foresight to gauge his intentions and predict his movement. But this world is different.
The words stopped there, but the thought continued in silence. She had barely known Demon Slayer to begin with—had only watched the anime in passing because it was popular, without it ever truly grabbing her. She'd been too busy to keep up with the manga. Over two years had passed since she crossed over and became Inori, and even the parts she had known—a few important character names, the rough shape of the story—most of it had faded. She remembered the anime ending right at the point where the larger story was finally starting to unfold. There was simply a great deal she didn't know.
She had one clear desire.
First: find a way to dissolve the Nameless Monster's forced possession and let it turn back into King Crimson, a proper Stand again. Then find a way to trigger D4C and cross to the next world.
"I've been thinking about something Reimi Sugimoto said."
—What?
"That being able to remain in a world—having a reason to stay—comes from lingering attachments."
"When we defeated Eve and absorbed all the world's viruses... neither of us had anything tying us there anymore. We were thinking about how to live quietly in that world going forward. And then we crossed worlds." Inori moved away from the clearing of bodies and walked deeper into the forest, her words steady and unhurried, a few fireflies drifting past in the dark like stray sparks. "Maybe that was what triggered D4C. So-called 'lingering attachment.' We resolved Eve. But D4C didn't want us resting—so it sent us to Morioh."
"We defeated Yoshikage Kira and recovered the Corpse. But it didn't want us settling comfortably into that world either—so it sent us here, to the Taisho era."
"So if we want to trigger D4C again... maybe the only way is to resolve whatever ties us to this world. I want the Nameless Monster to turn back into King Crimson. I want to understand what the birthmark means. Maybe D4C will only let us leave once those two things are settled."
—Everything is still an unknown.
No matter what this world's story was supposed to be, no matter who the great villain here ultimately turned out to be—what Inori wanted to do was only ever one thing: understand who she really was. What the Nameless Monster was concealing, and what secret lay behind a birthmark shaped like a star.
She had no interest in becoming a hero who slaughtered demons and saved the world. She had equally no interest in allying with the demon side and hurting people.
What she did have was a feeling—quiet and not quite conscious—that the answer would come when she wasn't looking for it. Maybe a day from now, maybe a month. Maybe years. Maybe longer.
(③)
Between now and that moment, what Inori needed to do was simply survive—and beyond surviving, live as freely and comfortably as she could. Meet people. Trigger events. And someday, without forcing it, the thing she needed would come to her.
—Trust me, Inori-chan.
Mana's voice was suddenly, genuinely soft—like a warm hand wrapping around the back of her neck from behind, driving back the cold.
—Whatever happens, I'll be right here beside you.
—I know you're afraid of things you can't predict. I'll be with you for all of them.
"Don't think that buys you goodwill," Inori muttered, the faint pout in her voice entirely involuntary. Her cheeks were faintly warm.
—Hehe. Whether it does or not—you can't hide what you're feeling from me.
"Oh, be quiet—!"
The pink-haired girl let out a small embarrassed noise and kept walking.
She needed to sleep at some point, and then think properly about next steps. Join the Demon Slayer Corps—possibly. Or maybe go pay a visit to Muzan Kibutsuji, the demons' own boss, first. Of course, she had to consider the reality that her current appearance wasn't going to make an easy case for being human. Some Corps members might be open to accepting a non-human ally—there were always exceptions—but the majority, like the Wind Hashira (what was that name, she genuinely couldn't remember), ran on deep, bone-level hatred for anything demonic, and there was no use pretending otherwise.
Just because people don't accept me doesn't mean I can kill them all. That would make me an enemy of both humans and demons.
"Come to think of it—killing this many Demon Slayer Corps members at once... there might be a member of the Twelve Kizuki nearby."
—Twelve Kizuki?
"The twelve most powerful demons in this world, below the Progenitor himself."
A short summary for Mana. Mana had long since made peace with Inori's particular "ability"—this foreknowledge of fictional worlds, partial and imperfect as it was—and she didn't press for more details.
"Listen."
Inori tilted her head—a small, precise angle—and turned toward a different direction.
The moonlight was slowly brightening and cooling. The wind coming through the mountain forest swayed the packed trees into rattling, rustling motion, branches and leaves tilting every which way.
—What?
"The sound of someone fleeing in a panic."
—I'm human~. I don't have ears like yours.
"Something has that person scared. What, I wonder?"
Inori's expression carried the faint edge of something entertained.
—You're not thinking it's because of you?
"Couldn't be—I checked the area before making my move. No audience."
She noticed the shadow she was casting had grown paler.
The moon was brightening. The sky, which had been absolute black, was beginning to shift into the deep blue that comes just before dawn.
She had no idea of the exact time, but this was unmistakably the sign of approaching daybreak.
"Let's chase them down and ask."