Chapter 54: A Night in the Demon Slayer Village, Kikyo's Worries and Growing Trust
Tsubaki was gone, but the cloying, bitter aura she left in her wake had not yet dissipated. In the main square of the Demon Slayer Village, the assembled warriors looked at each other in dismay, their hushed whispers breaking the tense silence.
"That priestess... was that truly Lady Tsubaki?" someone murmured.
"I've heard the name," another replied. "They say she's a genius priestess, on par with Lady Kikyo herself."
"On par? I don't know... she seemed a far cry from Lady Kikyo's grace..."
"Shh! Keep your voice down!"
Hikaru stood his ground, calmly re-strapping the massive Hiraikotsu to his back as if nothing had happened.
A burly man, who carried himself as the leader of the village's younger generation, approached them, his face etched with a hint of awkwardness. "Lady Kikyo... Lord Kobe Hikaru?" He clearly stumbled on how to address a demon. "I am truly sorry. We never should have let you witness such a scene."
He bowed his head slightly. "That Lady Tsubaki arrived this morning, insisting she had to wait for your arrival. We... we couldn't stop her."
Kikyo simply waved a hand, dismissing the apology. "I do not blame you."
Her gaze then fell upon the old woman at the forefront of the crowd, her red lips parting slightly. "Elder, about the village chief..."
At the mention of their chief, the old woman's expression instantly fell, a deep sorrow settling into the lines of her face.
"I understand," Kikyo said softly. She took the cloth bag containing the ashes from her sleeve and held it out.
The elder accepted the small, heavy bundle, clutching it to her chest. Her face was a mask of helplessness, her eyes turning red-rimmed, but she only let out a long, weary sigh, as if this was an outcome she had long ago prepared for.
"You do not need to blame yourselves," she said, her voice raspy with emotion. "When he left, he told me he was prepared for the possibility of not returning."
The surrounding Demon Slayers bowed their heads in shared grief.
Hikaru watched the somber scene unfold without a word. He unslung the Hiraikotsu from his back and placed it gently on the ground before the old woman.
"This belonged to him," he stated simply. "I have returned it."
The old woman looked up, her gaze shifting from the giant bone boomerang to the pale man who had brought it. "You are...?"
Her eyes lingered for a moment on his stark white hair and unnaturally pale face before finally settling on the pair of scarlet, inhuman eyes that marked him as other.
"I am a demon," Hikaru said, his voice even and calm. "And I am Kikyo's shikigami. I was also the one who saw the old village chief off on his final journey."
He continued, "Before he died, he asked me to give the Shikon Jewel to Kikyo. The Hiraikotsu was something I retrieved later. There was a delay. My apologies."
The old woman was silent. She stretched out a withered, trembling hand and stroked the smooth, worn surface of the bone weapon.
"This... this has been passed down for over a hundred years," she murmured, her voice thick with memory. "For seven or eight generations. The first was forged from the bones of a dozen demons. Every generation of Slayers since has added new demon bones to its form. It grows heavier, and stronger, with each one." Her voice cracked. "Now... the skeletons of over a hundred demons have been fused into it. It is far too difficult for an ordinary person to even wield—"
Hikaru did not answer. That was not a question meant for him.
The burly man beside them gritted his teeth. "Elder, the village chief's grandsons are still young. When they grow up—"
"I know," the old woman interrupted, wiping a tear from her eye and regaining her stern composure. "Put the Hiraikotsu away for now."
'Only grandsons, no granddaughters?'Hikaru thought to himself.'It seems Sango and Kohaku from the original story haven't been born yet. The timeline is still very early indeed.'
"The two of you should rest in the village tonight," the old woman's voice cut through his thoughts. "You have that duel in three days; you both need to be well-rested. Regardless of what happens, Lady Kikyo, I must ask that you protect the Shikon Jewel at all costs."
Kikyo nodded solemnly. "Thank you."
The old woman waved a dismissive hand. "You brought the Hiraikotsu back, and you even returned the old man's ashes. We will remember this kindness." She glanced at Hikaru, her eyes appraising. "Although you are a demon, I can tell you are not one of the wicked ones. Besides, you are Lady Kikyo's shikigami, so no one in our village will give you any trouble."
Hikaru raised an eyebrow, intrigued.
"However—" The old woman's tone shifted, becoming sharp. "That sword you carry." She pointed to the Muramasa at Hikaru's waist. "If possible, please do not unsheathe it here. The killing intent it radiates is too heavy. It will frighten the children."
Hikaru looked down at his blade. Muramasa. A sword that had tasted the blood of at least a hundred demons, and humans as well. It did indeed carry a heavy aura of death.
"Very well," he agreed.
The old woman nodded, satisfied. "Follow me."
...
The guest quarters in the Demon Slayer Village were not large, consisting of a single wooden hut set within a small, private courtyard. Considering Hikaru's identity as Lady Kikyo's shikigami—and the fact that he wasn't human—they had not bothered to prepare a second guest room.
Shikigami were companions to their masters, but they were also viewed as living weapons. Who would think to separate a guest from their own weapon?
"If you need anything, you can tell the person at the door," the elder said before taking her leave.
Hikaru stood in the courtyard, staring at the wooden hut.
One room. Just one.
He turned and glanced at Kikyo. The shrine maiden's expression remained as calm and placid as ever, but Hikaru could have sworn the very tips of her ears were tinged with a faint red. She had clearly thought of it, too.
"Let's go in," Kikyo said, breaking the silence. She stepped inside first, her iconic white and red robes disappearing behind the door.
Hikaru followed her in.
The furnishings were as simple as most rooms in this war-torn era. A single tatami mat, an oil lamp, and a low table. It was only marginally better than the toad-infested village they had stayed in before. At least this place didn't stink.
But the problem remained: there was only one tatami mat. And it wasn't particularly large.
Hikaru looked at the mat, then back at Kikyo.
The shrine maiden was already sitting by the low table, her movements fluid and natural as she began to check the tension of her bowstring, as if she hadn't noticed the fact that there was only one bed in the room.
"Um..." Hikaru finally spoke up.
"Hm?" Kikyo didn't look up from her task.
"There's only one bed."
"I know."
"Then..."
"You are a shikigami," Kikyo stated, her voice perfectly calm. "Shikigami do not need to sleep."
"..."
Hikaru fell silent. Why was this excuse different from the one she used before? He had gotten his hopes up for nothing.
He didn't refute it, though. The reason was sound enough; as an Oni Samurai, he truly didn't require sleep.
And... he glanced at the tatami mat again. He remembered the scene from the previous night in that dilapidated hut, the two of them sleeping back-to-back. He remembered the warm, soft weight in his arms when he had woken up this morning.
Kikyo probably didn't want to 'make a fool of herself' again, he mused.
"What is it?" Kikyo's voice came again. "If you need to rest, I can give the mat to you. I will keep watch."
'That would be pointless,' Hikaru muttered to himself, shaking his head. "No." He walked to the wall opposite her and sat down, leaning his back against a sturdy wooden pillar. "You're the boss. You make the call."
Kikyo gave a slight nod, then stood and walked toward the courtyard. "I'm going to wash up."
Watching the shrine maiden's red-and-white figure disappear outside, Hikaru withdrew his gaze and focused his mind. He immediately took the red comb from his robes.
Yura of the Hair's true form.
Since he was going to be stuck here for three days, he might as well find something to do.
[Demon Artifact: Comb of Yura of the Hair]
[Current Favorability: -28 (Fear, Resentment)]
[It is playing dead, hoping you will forget its existence.]
"Stop pretending," Hikaru said, tapping the back of the comb. "I know you're awake."
The comb gave no reaction.
"If you keep pretending, I'll soak you in boiling water."
"Don't—!" The tiny skull carved into the comb's handle finally spoke, its voice shrill with panic.
Compared to other truly inanimate objects, this artifact-turned-demon was certainly more convenient. Even without the system, he could converse with it directly.
"What exactly do you want from me!" Yura shrieked.
"Nothing much," Hikaru said casually. "I just want to chat."
"Chat about what?" Yura's voice was laced with vigilance.
"For example, what kind of maintenance do you prefer?"
"...What?"
"Maintenance," Hikaru repeated patiently. "You're a comb. You must need maintenance, right?"
"..."
Silence.
"Is oil better, or wax? Your material is mulberry wood, so it probably isn't suitable for oiling..."
"Are you sick in the head!" Yura finally screeched, thoroughly depressed.
Hikaru didn't mind her tone. "I just want to take good care of you."
"Take care of me? You captured me! I'm your prisoner, and you say you want to take care of me?"
"Prisoner?" Hikaru raised an eyebrow. "I prefer to call you... a partner."
"Who wants to be partners with you!"
[Demon Artifact: Comb of Yura of the Hair]
[Favorability +2]
[Current Favorability: -26 (Doubtful, Vigilant)]
'She says no, but her favorability still went up,'Hikaru noted with satisfaction.'A classic tsundere.'
He decided to keep chatting.
...
The night deepened. The flame of the oil lamp flickered, growing smaller and smaller.
Hikaru leaned against the wall, his eyes closed in rest. He had chatted with the comb until it was utterly exhausted, successfully raising its favorability all the way to -20. It was still a negative value, but the progress was significant.
He opened his eyes and looked toward the tatami mat.
Kikyo had already lain down. Her white haori was removed, leaving only the thin undergarment beneath. Her long, black hair was scattered across the pillow, emitting a faint luster in the dim lamplight. The quilt draped over her did little to hide the elegant curve of her hip line, extending from her slender waist.
Her chest rose and fell in a steady, rhythmic pattern. Her breathing was even. It seemed she had already fallen asleep.
Hikaru watched her for a long moment before looking away.
...
He wasn't sure how much time had passed.
Suddenly, Hikaru felt a presence lean over him. He opened his eyes.
Kikyo had sat up from the mat at some unknown point and was now looking directly at him. In the dimness of the room, her pitch-black eyes were exceptionally bright.
"What's wrong?" Hikaru asked, his voice low.
"I can't sleep," Kikyo's voice was a soft whisper. "That spiritual duel..." She paused. "I'm a little worried."
Hikaru raised an eyebrow. With Kikyo's immense power, she was actually worried about a duel with Tsubaki?
"What are you worried about?"
"I'm not worried about losing," Kikyo said, shaking her head. "I'm worried... about her."
"Her?"
"Tsubaki's obsession is too deep," Kikyo's gaze seemed distant, unfocused. "If she loses, I'm afraid she will fall down the wrong path."
Hikaru fell silent. He recalled the Black Priestess Tsubaki from the original story—a woman who had plunged into darkness, consumed by jealousy. He also thought about Kikyo's true nature; though she appeared cold and indifferent on the surface, her essence was one of deep gentleness. And Tsubaki, after all, had once been a friend who fought alongside her. It was only natural for Kikyo to be worried.
"Then what do you plan to do?" he asked.
"I don't know," Kikyo said softly. "But it has to be faced." She looked at Hikaru, her eyes finding his in the gloom. "Three days from now, will you be there?"
"Obviously." Hikaru met her gaze without flinching. "I am your shikigami, am I not? If the master is fighting, would it be appropriate for the shikigami to be absent?"
Kikyo looked at him, and the corners of her mouth moved, twitching upward ever so slightly. It was barely a smile—so faint and shallow it was almost imperceptible—but Hikaru had seen it.
"That's good," she said.
With that, she lay back down on the tatami mat. Hikaru returned to his position against the wall.
The night grew deeper. The two of them, one sitting and one lying down, fell into a shared, comfortable quiet. For some reason, the atmosphere in the room felt much softer than before.
[Shikon Jewel: Naohi: Favorability +1]
[Current Favorability: 51 (Trust)]
[It conveyed a message to you: 'She trusts you more and more.']
Hikaru looked at the prompt on his system panel. A faint curve appeared at the corner of his own mouth.
Trust, huh?
That's good.
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