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Yume sighs quietly to herself. Her crow’s a restless thing today. He circles overhead, squawking and shrieking with such reckless abandon that she has half a mind to strangle him.
“This is why I named you noisy,” she mutters.
“I heard that!” her crow, Gougou, cries out indignantly. “Very rude!”
He swiftly lands on her left shoulders, and instantly begins pecking at her warding mask. It’s a favorite habit of his, wrecking her things. The dark ink meant to form a fox’s sly smile has already begun to chip away under Gougou’s wrath.
“Stop that,” she says, brushing him away as though he’s little more than an errant lock of hair.
“You’re mean!” Gougou wails.
Beneath the mask, she rolls her eyes. “Just tell me where to go already. You’re so excited about the mission that you haven’t even given it to me yet.”
He hems and haws for a bit, before finally readying himself. “Ahem! Northwest! Disappearances by a well! Five gone! Another Mizunoe-rank will meet you there!”
Yume frowns. “Another demon slayer?”
She’s only been on two missions since she passed Final Selection a few months ago, but both of those had been undertaken by herself. Being paired up like this… Doesn’t that mean the demon she’s to face will be exceptionally powerful?
“Yes!” Her crow’s buzzing with excitement. He bursts into the sky happily. “A joint mission! Danger! Intrigue!”
“Just lead the way,” she grumbles. “And please stop shouting.”
“You can’t make me!” he screeches.
She walks for hours, finally arriving at the village in question late in the afternoon. It’s bustling, for a place that people have recently begun disappearing from. The central road is packed, with wooden shops and homes lining either side. The dark-tiled roofs glimmer faintly under the flare of the setting sun. Adults and children alike roam the street, lazily meandering back home or happily chatting by a food vendor’s stall.
“Where is the well?” she asks her crow.
“A kilometer east!”
Her temple throbs with irritation. “Then why did you bring me—”
“HELLO!” a voice booms behind her.
Yume nearly jumps in response. Nearly. Since she’s a demon slayer and supposed to remain calm under pressure, she instead clamps down on that instinct and swiftly turns around.
She’s accosted—sorry, met—by the sight of a boy no older than herself. He’s unlike anyone she’s ever seen, with wild, flaming locks, thick brows, and eyes so wide they seem almost to swallow her whole. He is, honestly, an assault on all senses. He’s also, judging by the uniform and nichirin blade strapped to his side, her fellow demon slayer.
“I AM RENGOKU KYOJUROU!”
She stares at him. “…Hi.”
“APOLOGIES IF I AM TOO LOUD! I BURST MY EARDRUMS RECENTLY, HAHA!” he exclaims, hands on his hips as he uses the full forces of his lungs to laugh.
Yume winces under the onslaught. “…Is that so?”
“WHAT?”
“Never mind.”
“SORRY, MY FRIEND, BUT YOU WILL HAVE TO SPEAK UP!”
Yume feels like screaming. Rather than deal with the headache she doesn’t know, she looks to the headache she does know.
“Gougou!” she calls sharply. “Lead us to the well.”
Her crow flaps down, mutters a complaint or two, and then begins to soar off to the east. He’s quickly joined by Rengoku’s own crow.
“THERE!” Rengoku’s pointing at the crows as if Yume didn’t just send them off herself. “THE DEMON MUST BE IN THAT DIRECTION. WE SHOULD LEAVE NOW. IT’LL BE DARK SOON.”
Stifling another sigh, Yume begins heading east. Rengoku follows after her, each step ringing loud against the packed dirt. Even his breathing is loud, heavy and purposeful, as though each lungful must be properly savored before being let out.
“I REMEMBER YOU,” he says suddenly, “FROM FINAL SELECTION. YOU HAD THE SAME MASK.”
Yume does not remember this boy from Final Selection, but that might have been because she was struggling not to pass out. She looks at him, then presses a finger against the inked mouth of her mask.
“WHAT?”
She repeats the gesture.
“SORRY, I DON’T HAVE ANY FOOD. BUT WE CAN GET SOME AFTER WE SLAY THE DEMON!”
He’s hopeless. Yume decides to stop trying to communicate with him. This decision, however, doesn’t seem to stop him from trying to communicate with her. Rengoku, it seems, is someone who thinks of silence as something to break instead of savor.
“YOU’RE MIZUNOE AS WELL, AREN’T YOU? HOW MANY MISSIONS HAVE YOU HAD?”
She raises two fingers.
“EXTRAODINARY! I HAVE ONLY HAD ONE SO FAR. THE DEMON I FACED WAS ABLE TO PLAY MUSIC TO CONTROL PEOPLE AND ANIMALS. HE KILLED SEVERAL OF OUR COHORT, ACTUALLY.”
She stiffens, looking at him. He can’t make much of her expression behind the mask, of course. Still, Rengoku seems to catch onto her unease.
“DON’T WORRY,” he continues brightly, “I PUT THEIR SOULS TO REST BY VANQUISHING THE DEMON.”
That doesn’t quite comfort her. Some measure of dread sinks and swelters at the pit of her stomach. It’s sad, to think that several of the others she saw at Final Selection have already died. Many of them were the same age as her, if not younger. Her hand reflexively tightens around the hilt of her blade. It is not that she fears death herself, but fears dying before she can find and slay the demon that killed her family. To think that—
“THE MOON IS ESPECIALLY YELLOW TONIGHT. IT REMINDS ME OF A FRIED EGG.”
Yume turns to him blankly. Rengoku’s head is tipped far back, staring up at the starry expanse of the sky with such enthusiastic wonder one might have thought this was his first time seeing it.
There are a few houses near the well, but it appears those have been long abandoned. Nothing more than collapsed buildings and rotting tatami mats spilling out from the interior. Even the grass is sparse and dead, cracking stiffly under Yume’s light steps. It seems that people have vacated this area, and for good reason. There’s some sickeningly sweet stench emanating from the well.
She approaches quietly. As Rengoku pointed out earlier, the sky isn’t so obscured tonight. The moon shines bright and heavy, which will make it difficult to slip by the demon’s gaze undetected. Still, it will be best if they can investigate the well without its realizing; that way, they will have the upper-hand when—
“DEMON!” Rengoku announces to anyone within a ten-meter radius. “WHERE ARE YOU?”
Yume slaps a hand against the front of her mask.
A cackling laugh seeps out from the depths of the well. Rengoku quickly unsheathes his sword, drawing it before him in an effortless and well-practiced manner. Yume dashes to the side, melting against the long shadows of the deserted buildings.
“My, my, what have we here?” the demon croons. Its voice rings out from the depths of the well. “A little fledgling slayer? Have you lost your way?”
A pale, bloated woman drifts up from the well. Her hair hangs long and dark, lanky with stale water and algae. She slithers along the sides of the well, her body almost melding against the stone, as she eerily peers up at Rengoku.
“You poor thing,” she hums. “Come closer, and I can—”
Rengoku lowers his sword slightly. “I AM SORRY, BUT YOU WILL HAVE TO SPEAK LOUDER, DEMON!”
Yume stares at him. The demon falters.
“YOU SEE, I RECENTLY RUPTURED BOTH OF MY EARDRUMS! I WOULD APPRECIATE IT IF YOU WOULD STOP WHISPERING!”
The demon’s face contorts, that somewhat serene look erupting into a flurry of snarls and scowls. “Quiet! How dare you make a mockery of me!”
“WHAT?”
She howls with anger, and a long lock of her hair shoots out to strike Rengoku. He ducks out of the way, then flourishes his sword to swiftly cut off another incoming stretch of hair. Yume silently watches with narrowed eyes. The demon, it seems, has become so fused to the well that she cannot leave it. She fights using her hair, lengthening and sharpening it to relentlessly attack any who come near. Rengoku is doing a fine job of weaving through the demon’s jabs, but he will not be able to get close to the demon’s neck under the onslaught.
“A fast one, hmm?” the demon sneers. “It’s no matter, you’ll be joining the others soon enough.”
“I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU ARE SAYING, BUT I’M SURE IT’S VILE!”
It does, oddly enough, work out. Rengoku shouting out each of his words provides ample distraction for Yume to sneak forward unnoticed. She stills against the dark, slows her breathing until it almost seems like she isn’t breathing at all. Her sharp eyes catch onto the demon as it fiercely claws against the side of the well, using every ounce of focus and energy to attack Rengoku.
Shadow Breathing. First Form. Veil of Dusk.
One swift, low strike from the shadows, and the demon’s head is cleanly severed from the well. The demon lets out one last, anguished scream before she begins to dissolve away.
“VERY NICE!” Rengoku beams, giving Yume a thumbs up.
She hesitantly returns it. He brightens immediately.
“YOU’RE VERY STRONG!” he says. “WE SHOULD HAVE SOME SOBA TOGETHER!”
She doesn’t understand the connection between those two statements, but merely shrugs and gives another thumbs up in response. Rengoku nods enthusiastically, then returns the thumbs up again.
All they do for a moment is stare at each other, waiting. Unsurely, Yume raises her hand into another thumbs up, hoping this might signal to him that she’s ready to leave. Instead, Rengoku immediately returns the gesture with another thumbs up of his own.
Yume huffs with annoyance. “I’m doing this to communicate with you, since you can’t seem to hear me well.”
“WHAT?”
She gives him a thumbs down.
Rengoku’s brows crease together. “YOU DON’T LIKE SOBA?”
She shakes her head. “No, soba is just fine. I—”
“THEN HOW ABOUT SOME RAMEN?”
She walks away.
Everyone is staring at them. No, correction: everyone is staring at him.
“MMM, TASTY!” he says, slurping up another spoonful of ramen.
Yume picks at her own bowl listlessly. She didn’t even get a chance to slip off her mask and taste it before Rengoku started making a scene. It’s been fifteen minutes, and she can feel every customer’s gaze sticking to them. The attention is anything but warm.
“TASTY!”
Yume snaps her fingers in front of Rengoku’s face. His too-wide eyes refocus on her hand, and he tilts his head slightly. He seems almost like a confused puppy.
Yume gives him a thumbs down.
He nods seriously. “I SEE. YOU DON’T LIKE THIS FOOD?”
The old man behind the counter grumbles in response, shooting her a dark glare. Yume has never been more thankful for the mask she wears.
“NO MATTER, WE’LL FIND ANOTHER RESTAURANT!” He tips back the contents of his bowl into his mouth, finishing off the rest in one final gulp. “TASTY!”
Yume pushes her own bowl towards him. Rengoku’s grin is so bright it just about blinds her. He finishes the bowl in record time, slurping down every last bit of broth, before dragging her to a food stall that he believes might be more suited to her taste.
“HERE!” he says, thrusting a skewer of dango in her face.
She wordlessly undoes the knot of her mask so she can have a bite. Her dark hair whips against her face as she ties the warding mask against her belt. She plucks the skewer from Rengoku’s outstretched hand and takes a small nibble. It’s nice. The soy glaze is a little too sweet, but she’ll live. She tries to quietly finish off her skewer—tries, because Rengoku is staring at her with such intensity it’s starting to make her sweat a little.
“HUH. I THOUGHT YOU WERE A BOY,” Rengoku tells her.
The food stall owner wheezes with laughter behind them. Yume can feel a migraine anchoring in her temples. She glares at him, sharp grey eyes narrowing, and gives him a thumbs down.
“OH, YOU ARE A BOY? MY APOLOGIES, YOU JUST HAVE A PRETTY FACE! IT’S NOTHING TO BE ASHAMED ABOUT, I ASSURE YOU!”
He’s so earnest when he says it that Yume finds it difficult to get mad at him. That doesn’t, however, mean she isn’t annoyed. With a small huff, she hands her the remains of her skewer and walks off.
“TASTY!” she hears him announce a few seconds later.
Rengoku catches up to her at the village entrance. His hands are sticky from the glaze of the dango, and his breath stinks of miso. Overhead, both of their crows circle one another, shouting instructions for their next missions.
“I NEVER GOT YOUR NAME,” Rengoku tells her as they’re about to part ways.
“Kusumoto.”
“WHAT?”
Yume doesn’t have a brush or paper. There isn’t even a stick nearby. So, she takes one of his hands and slowly draws the kanji for her name against his palm. His skin is warm, almost feverish compared to the cool draw of her finger.
Soon, she lets go of his hand, but Rengoku keeps it outstretched. He’s staring at her, wide-eyed as ever, but his smile is far more tight now.
Feeling unsure, Yume gives him a thumbs up.
“RIGHT!” he says, suddenly straightening. “KUSUMOTO-SAN!”
Another thumbs up.
“I AM RENGOKU KYOJUROU!”
She knows. It was the first thing he shouted at her. Still, she gives him yet another thumbs up, and he brightens at the sight of it. His grin stretches wide, more carefree now.
“LET’S BOTH DO OUR BEST TOGETHER!”
Beneath her warding mask, her lips twitch into a small smile. With one last curt nod and a thumbs up, they part ways. The moon shines bright behind them, painting them in a cool white glow, as each head on to their next mission.