Chapter 131: The New Member of the Butterfly Mansion
Makomo's past wasn't particularly complicated. She had enjoyed a warm, happy family in her early childhood, but that peaceful life shattered completely when she turned seven. Raised in a hidden shelter run by the Demon Slayer Corps, she eventually became a disciple under the former Water Hashira, Urokodaki Sakonji, shortly after her thirteenth birthday. Two years later, at fifteen, she crossed paths with Akira during the Final Selection—and her fate was forever altered.
Though her journey sounded straightforward, recounting the complex details and buried emotions took hours. By the time Makomo finally fell silent, the sky outside the window had already deepened into a vast canvas of dark, starry velvet.
The two of them gently composed their lingering emotions, retreating to the small cabin to rest for the night.
"So, you really just held me and slept the entire night without doing a single thing?"
Waking up comfortably nestled in Akira's arms the next morning, Makomo peered up at him, her lips forming a distinct, resentful pout.
"I know my figure can't quite compare to Kanae's, but I shouldn't be that unattractive, right?"
Akira lowered his gaze, taking in the sight of the girl in his embrace. Now eighteen, she had certainly grown out of her completely flat phase. While her curves were only marginally more pronounced than those of little Kanao—who hadn't even hit twelve yet—they were undeniably present.
As for her face, the soft, childish roundness had gradually faded over the years, replaced by a refined, mature gentleness. Yet, the vibrant, playful spirit dancing in her teal eyes remained entirely untouched by time.
, years of rigorous Breathing Technique training and relentless swordsmanship meant there wasn't a single ounce of excess fat on her frame. Holding her felt incredibly soft yet firm and springy—a perfect, comforting warmth.
To call her unattractive was, frankly, absurd.
"Ahem... well, didn't we agree we were just going to sleep?" Akira coughed lightly, turning his face away as he inconspicuously shifted his hips back a fraction.
"Is sleeping alone the same as sleeping together? You..."
Makomo leaned in closer, pressing against him, but the rest of her sentence died in her throat. Her mouth snapped shut.
Even through the layers of their clothing, she could distinctly feel something prodding against her.
The aggressive, teasing momentum she had just wielded vanished in an instant. Makomo ducked her head, her cheeks flushing a brilliant, burning crimson.
"Cough, well, you see, I once had a very strange dream about a mystical river called the Shen River," Akira said, hurriedly scrambling to change the subject. "In that river lives a River God shaped like a giant crab—the Great River Crab God. It warned me that if I crossed that line before you turned eighteen, it would drag me away and lock me in the abyss, and none of you would ever see me again."
Akira maintained a perfectly straight face, delivering the absolute nonsense with solemn gravity.
"Really?" Makomo peeked up through her lashes, eyeing his serious expression with heavy suspicion.
"Absolutely," Akira nodded with righteous conviction.
"So... it's not because I lack appeal?"
"Of course not. Whether you have appeal or not, didn't you just feel the proof yourself?"
"Ugh..."
Makomo buried her face back into his chest, her ears practically steaming.
After a long, quiet bout of internal struggle—and undoubtedly a very wild imagination running its course—she whispered softly without lifting her head. "Hey, Akira-kun."
"What is it?"
"Is it... um... does it feel uncomfortable?"
"You know, if you concentrate hard enough, Breathing Techniques can actually regulate localized blood flow to a certain extent."
Focusing every ounce of his willpower on circulating his breathing to calm his body down, Akira blurted out the mechanical truth without a single second of forethought.
Makomo froze, her mind slowly processing the sheer absurdity of his words.
"Is that what Breathing Techniques are supposed to be used for?! You massive idiot!!!"
A furious shout echoed through the cabin, followed immediately by a flurry of small, rapid-fire punches to his chest. The physical assault successfully rebooted Akira's brain, making him realize the sheer magnitude of the stupid statement he had just made.
Poor Akira. Back in the day, he had endlessly teased Mitsuri for having a single-track, simple mind, never once realizing that he suffered from the exact same affliction. Why else would they get along so perfectly?
Birds of a feather flock together.
Before Akira could even attempt to salvage the situation, Makomo had already scrambled out of bed, thrown her haori over her shoulders, and stormed out of the cabin in a huff. Left with no other option, he hurriedly threw on his own clothes and chased after her.
Even when they settled down at a small eatery in a nearby town for breakfast, Makomo flat-out refused to acknowledge his existence. Her delicate face was puffed up like an angry blowfish, tinted with a lingering red—a fraction of it from annoyance, but the vast majority stemming from sheer embarrassment.
"Makomo~" Akira leaned across the table, closing the distance.
She shot him a sideways glare, turned her entire body the opposite way, and stubbornly continued to sip her hot porridge in tiny, deliberate mouthfuls.
"Forgive me~" Akira shifted his chair, popping up in her line of sight once more.
This time, she didn't even grant him a glare. She merely let out a delicate hmph from her nose and swiveled away again.
However, facing an Akira who was acting so uncharacteristically clingy and spoiled, Makomo could already feel goosebumps prickling down her arms.
"Makomo~~"
Hearing his voice pitch up into an exaggerated, honey-sweet whine, a visible shiver ran down her spine.
What on earth did I fall in love with? she thought, utterly defeated.
"Fine, fine, I'm not angry anymore! Just sit down and eat your food properly!"
In the end, she had to compromise. After all, there was no real right or wrong in the situation; she had simply been overwhelmed by embarrassment. But compared to the sheer, mortifying shame of watching the usually stoic Akira act cute in a public restaurant, her previous embarrassment was completely negligible.
"Alright!"
The moment the pardon was issued, Akira instantly dropped the act, reverting to his usual calm demeanor as he picked up his chopsticks and dug into his meal.
Meanwhile, the other patrons in the breakfast shop stared at them with deadpan expressions. Seriously? It's barely dawn and we're already choking on this much PDA overload?
There was naturally no need to hide the surprise Makomo received from the others upon their return to the Butterfly Mansion. Kanae's eyes sparkled as she immediately began anticipating her own eighteenth birthday present, while Shinobu sighed, rubbing her temples in mild distress as she calculated the grueling two-plus years she still had left to wait.
As for the youngest resident, Kanao?
One could only say that Kanao didn't care about such complicated matters. She only wanted to stick as close to her big brother as physically possible.
Of course, the revolutionary 'new application' for Breathing Techniques that Akira had pioneered was mercilessly exposed by Makomo. Even though the gossip remained strictly contained within their intimate circle, it still earned Akira a relentless barrage of teasing from the girls.
Damn my mouth, Akira groaned inwardly. Why did I have to speak so fast?
A few days later, Akira carved out some time to visit Mitsuri, bringing Makomo along. At some point recently, Kaito and his wife had sat their simple-minded daughter down and gently explained that Akira was involved in highly dangerous work. Because of this, the moment Mitsuri saw him, she practically tackled him, bombarding him with a hundred worried questions.
Considering that Mitsuri had already passed her fifteenth birthday, Akira decided it was time. He sat her down and carefully explained selected details about the Demon Slayer Corps, the existence of demons, and the hidden war fought in the shadows.
Upon hearing the truth, Mitsuri's eyes lit up with determination. She wanted to join on the spot. The prospect of eliminating evil creatures and protecting innocent people held immense appeal for the pure, kind-hearted girl. Plus, knowing that Akira was already a part of the Corps meant she didn't have to second-guess her decision.
However, Akira didn't whisk her away immediately. He gently instructed her to discuss the matter thoroughly with her parents first.
In reality, since Kaito and his wife had already briefed Mitsuri on Akira's dangerous lifestyle, it meant they had already made their peace with entrusting their daughter to him. The so-called 'discussion' was merely an excuse—a deliberate window of time Akira created so Mitsuri could enjoy a few more peaceful days with her family.
Once she officially joined the Demon Slayer Corps, carefree days at home would become a rare luxury.
Just when everyone in the Butterfly Mansion assumed their next permanent resident would be the pink-haired Mitsuri, Kanae returned from her duties. She had been away serving as a proctor for the latest Final Selection.
When she walked through the estate gates, she wasn't alone. She was leading a young, nervous-looking girl by the hand.
"Oh my, Akira-kun," Kanae called out, a gentle, amused smile gracing her lips. "Look who I found. A girl who shares your exact surname."
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