"It's time for Nezuko to have a bath."
With that casual comment...
The siscon radar lit up with the power of a thousand suns.
Tanjiro's entire body tensed and he pointed his chopsticks at him.
"Don't even think about it!"
"You're gonna start with that again, aren't you?! Let me tell you right now: it's impossible! Absolutely impossible! There is NO WAY I'm letting YOU bathe Nezuko!"
"..."
Marcus rolled his eyes.
But he couldn't really blame Tanjiro either. It was understandable.
After all, every two weeks, with the punctuality of a clock, he brought up the topic. And every time, without exception, the same storm broke loose.
But today's reaction, in fact, was moderate.
Because the first time... the first time had been volcanic.
Marcus, with his "innocence," had let slip: "Nezuko chan hasn't bathed in so long... wouldn't she be uncomfortable? How about I help her get cleaned up?"
His words caused Tanjiro to nearly invent a new Form, "Water Breathing, Eleventh Form: Fury of the Big Brother," and he chased him from inside the cabin to the forest, doing three full laps around the mountain before either of them ran out of air.
From that day on, "bathing" became the forbidden word of Mount Sagiri.
However, today was different.
Marcus didn't seem to be in the mood to fight.
After calmly finishing his last bite of rice, he leaned over and stroked Nezuko's hair as she slept peacefully by the fire.
"Same as always," he said in a tone Tanjiro didn't recognize from him. "I'll take Nezuko to Grandma so she can bathe her. I also need to buy a few things while I'm there."
"Do you need anything?"
"..."
Tanjiro froze.
...What?
That was it?
Where was the relentless harassment? The absurd arguments?
Nothing happened.
Marcus was giving up just like that... Without a fight. Without resistance.
That wasn't like him.
Tanjiro watched him through narrowed eyes, sniffing the air with suspicion.
But all he picked up was rice, burnt firewood, and a hint of... hmm?
Marcus's mood today was different.
"...I don't need anything," he finally answered. The guard in his eyes softened one degree, but didn't disappear. "Are you really... just going to take her to get bathed?"
"If not, then what?" Marcus glanced at him sideways, with a half smile. "Hug her and run?"
"Don't say things like that!"
"Yeah, yeah. I know you're the best big brother in the entire universe. Gold medal."
Marcus waved his hand and stood up, brushing the crumbs off his clothes. "Finish eating and get up the mountain to make love to your rock. Try to split it soon, will you? Don't hold up next year's Final Selection for me."
Hearing that, Tanjiro's expression crumbled like a sandcastle.
The hardness of that boulder came back to his hands like a ghost. The tingling from the rebound, the numbness climbing up his arms, the vibration rattling his teeth... it all came rushing back just from thinking about it.
Mumbling a quiet "Mm," he sank his shoulders and started devouring what was left of the food.
...
"..."
Watching Tanjiro's silhouette shrinking as he went up the trail, shoulders slumped and the weight of the world on his back.
Marcus sighed.
He went back inside and started his afternoon training as usual. The same routine as every day. Nezuko nearby, breathing at full capacity, eyes closed, the world shrinking down to the cadence of his own breathing.
It wasn't until the last ray of sunlight sank behind the mountains that he stopped and stood up.
Lifting Nezuko in his arms with slow, careful movements, he adjusted her so her little head rested in the crook of his shoulder.
"Mmm..."
Nezuko stirred and unconsciously nuzzled against his neck.
"..."
Marcus stayed still for a second, letting her settle, and when he felt her calm again, he grabbed the cloth bag he had already prepared, tied it with a rope, slung it over his free shoulder, and stepped into the growing darkness of the night.
He already knew the path down the mountain by heart. Even carrying Nezuko, he walked with soft, agile, silent steps.
A few kilometers at the foot of the mountain there was a small village.
Barely a few dozen homes clustered along a dirt road.
After about ten minutes of walking, the first lights peeked through the trees like distant fireflies.
Marcus headed toward the edge of the village, where a modest cabin let faint wisps of steam escape through the cracks in the roof.
The inn and public bath of the Bath Grandma.
"Grandma, I'm here!"
At his voice, the wooden door opened with a familiar creak, and an elderly woman with gray hair and a slightly plump figure poked her head out.
"Oh, if it isn't little Marcus! Come in, come in."
Seeing Nezuko curled up in his arms, the old woman's smile grew more tender. "Bringing your little sister for a bath again? What a thoughtful brother."
"Sorry for the trouble, grandma." Returning her smile, Marcus went inside and handed Nezuko over carefully.
The old woman was a kind and discreet lady who lived alone. Urokodaki had introduced her to him months ago. And she seemed to sense that Marcus and Urokodaki weren't ordinary people, probably because Urokodaki came down to the village from time to time to take care of certain "problems" that went beyond what normal people could handle.
Not just demons, but also ruffians and thugs who prowled the area.
Maybe because of that, maybe out of simple kindness, the old woman had never asked a single question about Nezuko's condition. About anything. Every time Marcus showed up, she simply prepared hot water and towels.
"You can rest easy, leave it to me."
Grandma took Nezuko into her arms, settling her naturally. "Same as always, go do your things. I'll let you know when she's ready."
"Thanks, grandma!"
Marcus didn't linger. After so many visits, the routine was well oiled. He grabbed the empty bag and headed out.
The village general store was small, barely a room with wooden shelves, but it had what was needed. He bought rice, salt, pickles, some sturdy vegetables that wouldn't spoil quickly. Restocked thread, needles, and soap.
Pausing for a moment at a shelf. He thought about it and bought Tanjiro a small bag of candy.
That idiot killed himself training every day, and every once in a while he needed something sweet.
He wasn't going to say it like that, of course. He'd probably chuck them at his face with some comment about the boulder.
But he bought them.
The retirement pension Ubuyashiki assigned to Urokodaki was generous... for him alone. But to feed two constantly growing young men, replace equipment, maintain the traps... the budget got very tight.
With the bag full and heavy hanging from his shoulder, he returned to the bath.
Grandma still hadn't finished, and from the other side of the wall came the soft sound of water splashing and a hummed melody, like a lullaby.
So Marcus took the opportunity, stripped off his clothes, and got into the adjacent men's bath.
The hot water enveloped him like a hug.
Feeling the tension of the day dissolving, muscle by muscle, knot by knot, he leaned back against the stone edge.
These moments were rare... And that's why they were good.
When he came out; dry, renewed, in clean underwear, and feeling almost human again, grandma was just appearing through the door with an adorable demon in her arms.
Nezuko was clean, her hair still slightly damp, dressed in a small pink kimono that smelled like soap. Marcus had left those spare clothes there weeks ago.
"Thanks, grandma!" He hurried over to take her.
"Don't mention it, boy." The old woman waved her hand with a soft smile. "Head back now, it's late. Be careful on the way."
"Yes! See you later, grandma!"
Waving goodbye, he hung the groceries from one arm, settled Nezuko in the other, and set off on the way back up the mountain.
The moon was shining brightly tonight.
Its silver glow bathed the trail with such clarity that every stone, every root, every curve of the path was visible as if it were broad daylight.
The night breeze was noticeably cold, but with Nezuko curled against his chest, it was practically like having a portable heater.
Marcus was in a genuinely good mood. He started humming a song never heard before.
But the peace didn't last.
After leaving behind the last houses of the village, shortly after reaching a bend where the trail narrowed between thick bushes, something changed.
A chill accompanied by a sound.
Something moved in the underbrush, right ahead.
With the melody dying, Marcus stopped and his brow furrowed.
And the very next second, from the densest shadows at the edge of the path, a twisted figure emerged, crawling toward the moonlight.
________
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