Prologue

A winged shadow passes over your face. Your kasugai crow has taken flight, busying himself with lazy laps around the perimeter. You let him do as he pleases, your focus centered solely on your family property. The house had cut a grand figure in the distance, but now that you're several feet away, nothing about it resembles its original appearance in your memories.

The walls are old and discoloured, the roof weathered and visibly cracked in places. The fences that surround the property still stand sturdy, but only just barely, having falling into similar disrepair as the rest of the house. Without anyone to care for it, the seasons have clearly taken their toll.

Cued by some sort of entity, the clouds part. The blazing sun hangs in the zenith of the sky, beaming down warm sunlight. Beads of sweat begin to gather on the back of your neck, and you wipe them away with a tired sigh. You glance down accusingly at your layers of clothing. You would have dressed in a lighter garb if you weren't on a tight timeline, but unfortunately, you don't have the luxury.

You tug at the haneri collar of your Slayer uniform, huffing when it continues to insist on chaffing your neck. You give up and settle on loosening your haori in hopes of alleviating the heat. If you didn't think there was a possibility your neighbours would gossip about your uniform, you would have forgone the haori entirely. Gaining the attention of government officials is the last thing you want to happen. Given that you're regularly travelling, it would bring endless trouble if they accused you of terrorism or being a foreign spy.

Should anyone happen to see you today, the impression you want to give is of a downtrodden man returning to check up on his old home, and nothing less.

You unlock the gate and cross through the overgrown yard, marching at an even pace until you reach the main entrance to the house. The doors creak ominously as you slide them open. Immediately, what hits you is the pungent stench of dust and filth. The air is thick with rot and your first step over the threshold sends musty clouds of dust spiralling into the air.

Your hand whips up to cover your face, nose wrinkling. The interior has long been abandoned to time and nature and it certainly smells like it. This is something you had expected and experienced before, but no one would enjoy going through a repeat of a disgusting occurrence. Still standing near the door, you leave it open to let in a flood of sunlight. Getting a clearer look at the floorboards, layered with years of accumulated dust and grime, makes you grimace. You forgo taking off your sandals and step directly onto the raised platform.

"I'm home."

Your words echo into the silence. You feel a rush of bitterness that is accompanied by weary nostalgia. The latter isn't entirely unexpected. Regardless of what happened here, this place is still one you consider closest to your heart. You spent many formative years here and these walls have seen every side of you imaginable. It has bore witness to your beginning of your life and the moment it fell apart. It would be more surprising if you didn't feel anything at all.

You enter the hallway leading to one of the largest rooms in the house, memorable not for its size, but by how your mother always kept it stocked with expensive tea vessels and rare antiques. Your father found it wasteful to display your family's wealth so openly, it was only at her insistence that he agreed to let it remain.

Entering the room this time around, you are not filled with childlike awe, but a faint sense of desolation. The upper windows cut into the bamboo walls, layered with thick paper film, allow in some measure of light, revealing the largely empty living room. Save for a lonesome shelf and stool sitting in the far corner, the distinct lack of furnishings is a far cry from the years prior where your family used to flaunt specially commissioned cabinets and shelves.

You make your way across the room in a slow and pensive pace. The floor that used to be lined with tatami are stripped bare, splattered with animal droppings and cobwebs. You definitely made the right decision to keep your footwear on.

Keeping your gaze at eye level, you swerve around the thick square beams jutting out of the floor. You walk forward with your eyes firmly on the sliding doors on the other end of the room. Nothing, not the promise of riches nor the threat of death, will make you lift your gaze. Not at the risk of glancing at the large crisscrossing beams overhead.

You don't need to look to know that the piece of cloth, looped tightly around the beam, is no longer there. There's no reason for it to be. After all, the people who cleaned up the scene of the grisly remains had been thorough. It would be impossible for you to look up and see your father, the rope bunched tightly around his neck, still swaying there.

You throw open the living room door in your haste to exit. At the sight of the wooden staircase off to the right, equally dilapidated as the rest of the house, you breathe out a shaky sigh. You rub your clammy hands together. "All this dust must be making me delusional," you mutter. "There's no way something like that could happen unless the body dug itself out of the ground."

The idea of a corpse coming back to life absurd. The only creature that was capable of committing such acts, wouldn't be ghost or ghouls – but demons. At that thought, your hand twitches, moving to hover over the katana strapped to your waist. Giving the hilt a firm squeeze, you shake your head. "I really need some fresh air."

You proceed in the direction opposite of the staircase. The backyard you're headed to is located in an indiscriminate corner of this property, but having visited it countless times over the years, you navigate smoothly through the hallways, your body operating on long conditioned reflexes. With a fair amount of sunlight filtering through cracks in the walls, you see the door before you reach it. It's one that guests and newer servants have always easily overlooked, due to the fact that it's hidden at the dead end of one of the lesser used hallways. Digging your fingers into the groove of the wooden door, you tense your arm and slowly slide it open.

The backyard reveals itself in all its overgrown entirety. There is an overflowing number of wildflowers growing here, spread throughout the area in random tufts of pink and white. You don't recall your mother planting anemone nor seeing them on your last visit. Spread by the wind or sowed by wild animals, perhaps?

You stand at the mouth of door, admiring them for several seconds. The petite flowers are a sight. They liven up the dreary backyard of the once solemn landscape, and your mood improves the longer you look. Nature may be unforgiving at the worst of times but it is never incapable of beauty.

Eventually, your cursory glance turns into deliberate observation, and when you make out the overgrown weeds among the shrubs, reality seeps in. You pull yourself out of your admiration and step out of the house. Your sandals leave footprints in the grass as you make your way to the weary looking shrine built under a small awning.

The shrine is small, ordinary looking compared to grandness of the house. Even those who do not come from wealthy families would be able to distinguish that it is of no special make. It is the kind you would find by the side of the road, not within a house belonging to the Kuroshio family, a widespread clan with roots that date back to more than fifty years.

Looking at makes you faintly nostalgic. Despite her disastrous lust for opulence, your mother could not be accused of lacking filal piety. This shrine was built specifically for her maiden family, befitting of their station as humble peasant farmers from a rural prefecture.

In an ironic twist of fate, though, this shrine does not remind you of your mother's relatives. It reminds you of her.

Apart from the house, objects such as clothes, books and other memorabilia belonging to your family have also long been discarded. This shrine is all you have left recall your family by.

Stepping into shade of the awning is a welcome relief. You stand near an unlit brazier and hold your arms at your sides, bowing deeply in the direction of the shrine. You raise your head. Place your palms flat together, then bow again.

"Mother. Sister. I hope my prayer reaches you, wherever you may be."

You swallow past the sudden thickness in your throat and purse your lips into a firm line. You've successfully grown your business over the past four years and had your coming-of-age celebration just last year. You shouldn't be acting like an unruly child prone to abrupt fits of emotion.

You clear your throat. "I apologize for not visiting often. My business has gotten leaps better since my last visit and aside from my merchant duties, my work for Demon Slaying Corps is prone to taking up a majority of my remaining time."

Your kasugai crow lands atop the fence with a manic flap of wings. Beady black eyes bore into yours before he loses interest. You shake your head and continute to talk. "In any case… as selfish as this sounds, there is a reason for today's visit. It is for this same reason I stopped by Sensei's grave the day before."

Your next sentence escapes you in a breathless rush. "I have just received a summons to headquarters." Saying it out loud does not do anything to lessen your anxiety. It's been four years since you barely passed the final selection, and you've been stuck in the same rank since the early parts of your demon slaying career. "With my level of strength, I certainly have never made great contributions to the cause. If I was going to be commended for something, they would have surely mentioned it in my summons."

You glance at your crow, who has taken to pecking the underside of one wing. "Did I inadvertently break an important rule? Did my reputation plummet to the point where they decided to punish me severely?" Despite the temperate climate, a shiver wracks your body.

"I feel as if the upcoming meeting will bring about a tremendous change," you say, your voice falling into a low mutter. "But will it be for the worst or for the better?"

The last time you had gotten a feeling like this, a faint niggling in the back of your mind, your entire world fallen apart. The memories of that horrific event have blurred as time trickled by, but the feelings that spring up in the wake of them, even this many years later, are still the most volatile and painful ones you've had the misfortune of experiencing.

You sigh, the weight on your chest feeling heavier than ever, "…I hope the both of you will give me strength. Or perhaps show me a sign that things will turn out fine."

There is a noisy flap of wings before a broken caw erupts right beside your ear. "RYUU," your blasted crow screeches, "Too SL-OW! Time to GO! Time to GO!"

"If I didn't swear on Sensei's grave that I would take care of you…" you mutter angrily, flexing your arms to hold back smacking the offensive bird. He lets out another ear-splitting caw before flying away. You turn to regard the shrine with a look of helplessness. "When I asked for strength, I didn't expect to be in dire need of it so soon."

By the time you finish locking up the house's main gates, the sun has been completely blotted out by roiling hills of grey. Your surroundings are awash with a dreary grey tint and the atmosphere seems to have become devoid of all energy. You had at least encountered some people along the streets earlier, but the roads are now completely vacant. The sudden turn of weather must have sent them scurrying back into their homes.

You grunt and glare up at the sky in frustration. While you're grateful for the cooler weather, getting soaked in the rain right before attending a potentially life-altering meeting isn't any better than being cooked alive in the heat. Hopefully these clouds are just passing through.

Now, where were you supposed to be headed for again…?

You are rifling through your belongings and feel a weight on your shoulder. "Don't try anything funny," you warn your crow without pausing what you're doing. "You can count on going without any smoked meat tonight if decide to blow out my eardrums." You feel him huff, shaking out his feathered body in agitation. You roll your eyes. Your crow has been with you for years, but you've never been able to curb some of his more dramatic tendencies.

After several more seconds of searching, you pull out what you've been looking for. The letter of summons, stamped with the indistinguishable crest of the Demon Slayer Corps. Unfurling it, you refamiliarize yourself with the location of the rendezvous before storing it again. Despite working for them as long as you have, you've never heard so much of a whisper of the location of headquarters. It's simple to surmise that the coordinates you've received is likely for a throwaway point, perhaps guarded by kakushi to verify your identity beforehand.

Either way, you're still nervous. A short trip to the rendezvous point is just what you need to rid yourself of excessive thoughts.

You turn to squint at your Kasugai crow. It remains blessedly silent, tilting his head to look at you in the faux innocent way he always does after you've threatened to withhold his food.

"Though I highly doubt you'd tell me, I am still going to ask. Is Oyakata-sama as fearsome as the rumours make him out to be? I know they ought to be taken with a grain of salt, but rumours usually contain slight slivers of truth. Many of the Pillars are legendary for being tough to get along with, compensating them is one thing, but keeping difficult personalites in line wouldn't work unless you're powerful, or at least, deserving of their respect."

The reputations of the current living Pillars are definitely larger than life within the ranks of the Corps. The most farfetched tale you've heard is of the Sound Pillar, who many say has a harem of more than one hundred women.

And now that you're on that topic… the only Pillar you've encountered by chance is the Water Pillar. Aside from Tomioka-sama, who likely can't even recall who you are, you've had no contact at all with the remaining five.

Being summoned for offending a Pillar?

You chuckle at the audacity of your prior worries. It would be more accurate that the Stone, Insect, Wind, Sound and Fire Pillars are wholly unaware of your existence.

You extend your arm towards your crow and he hops on without complaint. "Alright, since you behaved, I'll give you a snack." You raise your arm, holding him at eye level. "And tell me... did I guess right? Is Oyakata-sama truly a person who rules the Corps with an iron fist?"

Your Kasugai crow bends forward and gives your sleeve a number of gentle pecks. Sighing, you take out a spare piece of wrapped jerky from your inner pocket. You clumsily remove the wrap with one hand, and of course, he swiftly snatches the meat the moment it comes off. Following that, in yet another obvious and predictable outcome, he gobbles down the entire piece.

Your Kasugai crow leaps off your arm, taking to the air. "Ryuu thinks too MUCH!" he shrieks, "N-OT necessary! N-OT important!" He does two laps above the top of your head before flying in the direction you're supposed to be heading towards. "USELESS to TH-INK! Time for Ryuu to GO!"

You trudge after him, torn between heaving a scoff or a sigh. You know yourself better than anyone to argue with your thickheaded messenger. Though it isn't something you like hearing from a bird, it is true that you've probably gone overboard in conjuring up the potential reasons for the summons you received.

You also do not regret stopping by your old home for a visit. Short as your one-sided speech had been, admitting all that had weighed on your chest has given you some room to breathe.

"Thinking about it again makes me feel silly," you mutter wryly. "With my rank of Tsuchinoto, I might not even get to meet a Pillar, let alone Oyakata-sama. I shouldn't have anything to worry about."

After all, why in the world would someone solidly in the upper ranks of the Demon Slayer Corps pay attention to a lowly Tsuchinoto?