His consciousness was like a bubble that had sunk into the depths of the ocean, only to slowly rise toward the surface once more.
The first thing to return was his sense of smell.
The suffocating stench of wisteria still lingered in the air, but mixed within it was a far more complicated combination of scents—alcohol, medicinal herbs, and… an unbelievably foul concentration of wisteria.
“Ugh…”
Kiyohiko released a dry groan and struggled to lift his heavy eyelids.
An unfamiliar white ceiling entered his vision.
He instinctively tried to raise one hand and rub his eyes, only to discover that his arm refused to move.
Startled, he attempted to struggle, then realized he was lying spread-eagle across a narrow bed.
His wrists, ankles, and waist had all been firmly secured to the bedframe with thick, specially made leather restraints.
My body feels so heavy…
His injuries had already healed, and his body had returned to its normal size, but a hunger that seemed to seep into his very bones continued burning inside his stomach like wildfire.
I’m so hungry.
I want to eat something.
I want blood.
It was not merely the instinctive craving demons felt toward humans and their blood.
Kiyohiko was genuinely starving.
At this point, he would have happily devoured an entire basin of fish mint and cilantro—the two vegetables he despised most.
My body…
Kiyohiko quickly noticed that something had changed.
After checking the system, he finally learned exactly what rewards he had received.
Thank goodness.
I didn’t die.
He released a breath of relief and shifted upward as much as the restraints allowed, trying to make himself slightly more comfortable.
Still, where exactly was he?
Kiyohiko observed his surroundings.
The room was dim, with heavy curtains drawn tightly across the windows.
Even the gap beneath the door had been blocked, clearly to prevent the slightest trace of sunlight from entering.
“My, you’re finally awake?”
A cheerful voice, so light that it almost sounded unreal, drifted into his ears.
Kiyohiko abruptly turned his head.
At some point, a young woman had appeared beside the door.
She wore a haori patterned like the wings of a butterfly, and a dark-purple butterfly ornament rested within her black hair.
With her chin supported between both hands, she looked down at him with pale-violet eyes curved into crescents and a bright smile upon her face.
Shinobu Kocho?
[System Notification.]
[Target detected: Shinobu Kocho.]
[Current Bond Value: -25.]
Kiyohiko fell silent.
Tanjiro, where the hell did you send me?
Her Bond Value was second only to the Hand Demon’s.
More importantly, when Kiyohiko first met the Hand Demon, even that creature had started with a Bond Value of 5.
At least it had been positive before certain unexpected circumstances caused it to plummet to -50.
Yet this woman had begun at a negative number the moment they met.
She isn’t planning to turn me into a specimen or use me as a laboratory rat, is she?
In his previous life, Kiyohiko had only properly watched around half of the first season of Demon Slayer.
Most of what he knew about everything else came from short videos, clips, and random shipping edits he had stumbled across online.
As for Shinobu Kocho, he had only seen her appearance during the events on Mt. Visit novelping.com for the full chapter.
Natagumo and that famous “moshi moshi” scene.
The clip had been so popular back in 2020 that it was practically impossible not to know about it.
“You slept for two days and two nights.
What a sleepy little demon you are.”
Shinobu’s voice interrupted his thoughts.
She walked over to the bed and extended one finger, gently poking Kiyohiko’s cheek.
Her fingertip was cold and carried a faint medicinal fragrance, along with the subtle scent of wisteria poison that every demon instinctively despised.
“Allow me to introduce myself.
I’m Shinobu Kocho, and this is the Butterfly Mansion, where injured members of the Corps receive treatment.”
Her smile remained flawless, though a hint of scrutiny lingered deep within her eyes.
“I’m terribly sorry about tying you down.
The Master ordered us to keep you alive for observation, but I am only a weak and defenseless girl.
I would be quite troubled if you suddenly lost control and tried to bite me.”
“I heard you saved a great many people, even injuring yourself so severely that you were practically falling apart in the process.”
“The red-haired boy was named Tanjiro, wasn’t he?
He watched over you for an entire day and night.
He refused to receive treatment for his own wounds until he was certain your life was no longer in danger.”
As Shinobu spoke, the smile in her eyes became slightly more genuine.
“And that noisy blond boy asked whether you had been killed the moment he woke up.
You really are a rather unusual demon.”
Shinobu leaned closer.
Her delicate face stopped only a few centimeters from Kiyohiko’s, close enough for him to clearly see her long eyelashes.
“Why did you do it?”
“Don’t demons love eating humans more than anything else?”
“And right now… you must want to eat me too, don’t you?”
However, contrary to Shinobu’s expectations, the demon before her did not fly into a frenzy or display even the slightest trace of desire.
Instead, Kiyohiko’s expression became increasingly terrible.
His features scrunched together as he desperately pushed his head deeper into the pillow and held his breath until his cheeks turned red, as though the beautiful Insect Hashira before him were some terrifying natural disaster.
Shinobu blinked.
Is he… restraining himself?
It seemed this demon possessed even greater self-control than she had expected.
And so, she decided to increase the dosage.
Shinobu extended her other hand and gently lifted Kiyohiko’s chin, forcing him to look directly at her.
The scent of wisteria became even stronger as it poured into his nose.
Kiyohiko finally failed to hold his breath any longer.
He inhaled sharply, and his face immediately turned green, his expression becoming as despairing as though he had swallowed a dead fly.
“Um… Cough, cough…”
His gaze wandered anywhere except Shinobu’s eyes.
His voice carried indescribable embarrassment and the faintest trace of apologetic hesitation.
“This might sound a little rude, but… could you not stand quite so close?”
Shinobu blinked again.
Her finger remained beneath his chin as she tilted her head.
“My, are you afraid you might hurt me?
“No…”
Kiyohiko took a deep breath, then nearly passed out from the smell.
Left with no other choice, he hardened his resolve and spoke with complete sincerity, as though he were merely stating an indisputable fact.
“It’s because… you smell a little bad.”
Shinobu: “…”
[Current Bond Value with Shinobu Kocho: -30.]
The room abruptly fell silent.
Shinobu’s signature, utterly flawless smile visibly stiffened upon her face, as though a thin crack had appeared across an exquisite mask.
Kiyohiko was suffering too.
He had always been unusually sensitive to wisteria.
Humans might perceive its scent as sweet and pleasant, but to him, its stench was comparable to surströmming.
For some unknown reason, the odor coming from this woman was especially concentrated.
It was so overwhelming that it had even suppressed his craving for blood.
Did she grow up eating wisteria flowers or something?
Shinobu slowly straightened, casting a shadow across Kiyohiko.
He called a girl smelly.
Is he disgusted by me?
“Smelly?”
She repeated the word.
Her voice remained gentle, but the temperature in the room seemed to plummet by ten degrees.
“Yeah.
It’s like… someone put rotten wisteria flowers inside a pickling jar and left them there for ten years…”
Seeing Shinobu’s expression grow darker and darker, Kiyohiko’s survival instincts urged him to explain himself.
Unfortunately, every word only made the situation worse.
“I honestly didn’t want to say it, but I’m about to throw up.
Really, did you fall into a pile of wisteria flowers and get marinated in them?”
“Maybe we could open a window and air out the room?”
Shinobu slowly withdrew her hand.
She stood upright with the light behind her, leaving her face shrouded in shadow.
As an eighteen-year-old young woman, Shinobu cared greatly about her hygiene and appearance—even as a Hashira who spent every day fighting disgusting demons.
This was the first time in her entire life that a member of the opposite sex had looked her in the face and told her—
She smelled bad.
“Hehe…”
“Hehehehehe…”
Shinobu released a string of bell-like laughter, but the sound made Kiyohiko’s scalp tingle.
At some point, a Nichirin Sword had appeared in her hand.
Still smiling, Shinobu rhythmically tapped its sheath against the edge of the bed.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
“Um… I was wrong.
I really was.”
“Could we maybe… put the sword down?”
“No.”
…
TL: Shinobu can slice me up anytime.