A cloudy afternoon with dark clouds looming as if rain might pour down at any moment.
Shinazugawa Sanemi encountered Moon Hashira Tsuyuri Kōgetsu right at the entrance.
"Hey, you here on business too?"
He pointed with his thumb at the wooden mansion beyond the gate—the waiting room of the Demon Slayer Corps uniform sewing division. Sanemi nodded in response to the question.
"Came to pick up a new uniform."
"Sanemi, you tore it again?"
—Sanemi. He'd grown used to being called that by now.
There was no special meaning behind the shift from "Shinazugawa" to "Sanemi." If anything, it was out of consideration for his siblings who shared the same surname.
Sanemi, too, now called the Moon Hashira by his first name. This also held no particular significance; it had simply stuck because his siblings referred to him as "Kōgetsu."
"You never learn, do you? How many times is this already? Tearing through uniforms designed to withstand attacks like that. Or do you have some exhibitionist streak? Hmm, interesting taste. Your family must be crying."
"It means I faced a tough opponent, you idiot. Thanks to that, Masachika and I got promoted to Kinoe. Think before you speak. You're gonna make me cry, Kōgetsu."
But even after switching to first names, the two still clashed whenever they met.
If asked whether they disliked each other, it was debatable, but their relationship was oddly casual yet perfectly dysfunctional, leading to everything from arguments to fistfights, beetle sumo, and tempura eating contests.
They couldn't stand around arguing forever, though. Side by side, they opened the gate and stepped into the familiar mansion.
They hated going together, but delaying because of the other was even worse.
"Better to make a fuss over a uniform than get hurt."
"Well, you do deserve praise for getting hurt less. Kanae praised you too. 'Shinazugawa-kun can do it if he tries~' she said."
"Where'd that fake voice come from? It's eerily similar and disgusting."
After reuniting with the Genya brothers, Sanemi's stays at the Butterfly Mansion had noticeably decreased. Or rather, he'd intentionally cut them down.
In the past, he'd have fought bleeding regardless of what anyone said, sometimes even cutting his own arm to intoxicate demons, but now that he had his family back, he couldn't do the same. It would worry them.
Masachika had even tattled, "This guy fights like this. I told him not to, but he wouldn't listen, so you guys should say something too," making his siblings more sensitive to his wounds.
His sisters reacted strongly: Sumi would tear up at the sight of any injury, and the eldest, Teiko, would fly into a rage.
With a face resembling their mother's, she'd scold him with teary eyes, "You got hurt again!" which stung as the eldest son.
For that reason, he had no choice but to seal his rare blood-dependent techniques. Let's skip over how he knocked Masachika down when he cheered and made a fuss after Sanemi returned from a mission unscathed.
"So what brought you here?"
"Came to get a Kakushi hood."
"A Hashira changing jobs to Kakushi? Ha, ridiculous."
"You're laughing like a maniac, though. With that vicious thug face of yours."
"What did you say, you brat!"
Without even glancing back at Sanemi, who looked ready to pounce, Kōgetsu continued.
"My hat, it finally tore."
The Moon Hashira's black hair was bare, without the old hunting cap.
Kōgetsu recalled Masachika's words about being sensitive to sunlight. For night missions, it was fine, but for daytime tasks, a hat to block the sun was essential.
"So you plan to wear a Kakushi hood pulled down low?"
"Yeah."
As they walked and talked, the workshop was soon in sight. The sound of looms. The snipping of fabric. Muted, peaceful noises.
Yet this, too, was their battlefield. The people here, wielding needles instead of swords, mended the fight this way.
"Excuse us."
"Excuse us!"
Overlapping each other's voices, they stepped into the whirl of sound.
The post-processing unit, the Kakushi.
As the Demon Slayer Corps' support division, they worked behind the scenes.
Among them, the sewing division had an unspoken rule.
Do not let Maeda Masao near women——
Maeda Masao was a man renowned in the sewing division for his exceptional needlework and skills.
He was known as "Pervert Glasses," the guy who'd say with dead eyes, "I want to make clothes that cling to the female form."
Upon hearing news of a new female slayer, he'd sacrifice sleep to sew clothes filled with his sexual preferences, and if a female slayer came for repairs, he'd rush out with a measuring tape.
He was the pinnacle of perverts, earnestly spouting nonsense to blushing girls about uniforms, "No, this is normal and common sense. It's the truth of the world. All women should be like this."
'It's our mission, passed down from my father, to create clothes that bring out the infinite beauty of the female form.'
'Uproot that mission.'
—Ignoring such retorts, he was a nuisance who piled up troubles the moment the curfew bell rang.
Rumored to be on the verge of being banned from the Butterfly Mansion, a wanted poster was inevitable. A skilled trash son whose passion and technical prowess matched like a nightmare, etc. His infamy never ceased.
Now, due to Maeda's shameless antics, many slayers stormed the sewing division. The women of this era were strong, after all.
So, among the decent sewing division members, it had become an unspoken rule, a sort of mission, to never let Maeda接触 women.
When a repair request came from Flower Hashira Kuze Tamaki, they made Maeda sew the extra uniform for the leader from start to finish. The leader was large-framed, making for excellent hand-tying—or rather, keeping him busy.
Also, when a request came for nurse uniforms from the girls working at the Butterfly Mansion, and Maeda seriously proposed, "For functionality, let's make the skirts much shorter," the entire sewing division threw punches at him. Aim for the face, not the hands, with full force.
Thus, using every means to protect women from Maeda's clutches and, moreover, to safeguard their peaceful workshop, the sewing division members struggled, but if they could have stopped him that easily, he wouldn't have earned the nickname "Pervert Glasses."
No matter what anyone said, Maeda, with his iron will to fulfill his desires, also used every means to satisfy his cravings.
Sending perverted uniforms to new slayers behind his colleagues' backs, or touching female slayers under the pretext of repairs, saying, "Your uniform is torn, let me fix it. Ah, while you're wearing it, please keep it on." — truly, Pervert Glasses.
May all his wisdom teeth rot and cause him pain. What a shameless bastard, flaunting his guts like that.
Despairing that no one could stop the guy's ambitions, the sewing division members found hope hadn't abandoned them.
A natural enemy had appeared for Maeda Masao.
The first was Moon Hashira, Tsuyuri Kōgetsu.
When he grabbed Maeda by the collar, bringing along a tearful new female slayer, and yelled, "In the moon's name, perish, pervert!! What kind of clothes did you send to a girl not even married yet, you really need to get a grip!!" Maeda begged for his life, crying and wailing.
The Moon Hashira's fury, like a father whose daughter had been harassed, was immense. Not the kind of杀气 a teenager should have. Even the other sewing division members, not the target of his rage, huddled in a corner, trembling.
If the girl slayer hadn't accidentally called Kōgetsu "Dad," warming the atmosphere, they'd have had to return to work with hands still shaking.
The second was slayer Shinazugawa Sanemi.
Apparently having witnessed Maeda doing something inappropriate to a female slayer, he reportedly yelled at Maeda, who was old enough to know better, with such intensity it bordered on assault.
He even misunderstood, thinking, "Is this division full of trash like this? I'll kill you all," and barged into the workshop, leaving the other sewing division members utterly baffled.
It was truly terrifying then. If not for the slayer uniform, it would've been a full-blown yakuza attack. Maeda foamed at the mouth and rolled his eyes.
If the entire sewing division hadn't begged together and cleared up the misunderstanding, who knows what would've happened. That day, their hearts were one: they didn't want to die. That was all.
Perhaps after receiving intense anger from both the Moon Hashira and Shinazugawa, even the infamous Maeda felt threatened.
Old habits die hard, and perversion is immortal, but still, after those incidents, the commotions noticeably decreased.
To that extent, Tsuyuri Kōgetsu and Shinazugawa Sanemi were terrifying figures.
For Maeda, who brought it on himself, and for the sewing division members caught up in it.
……And in such a situation.
"Excuse us."
"Excuse us."
With both of Maeda's natural enemies visiting simultaneously,
"Pervert Glaaaaaaasses!!"
"What did you do this timeaaa?!"
It was inevitable that the sewing division panicked.
"Did you send more shameless clothes again! Get a grip!!"
"You pervert brat, did you grope someone again under the guise of measuring!!"
"Lord Shinazugawa and Moon Hashira-sama are both waiting!!"
"The two major mountains of not-to-be-angered are gathered side by side!"
"Believe us! We work diligently! The bad one is Pervert Glasses!"
Some overturned sewing boxes, some tearfully prostrated before Shinazugawa, some rushed to the inner workshop where Maeda was.
Dragged out suddenly, Maeda was blinking, but the moment he saw Kōgetsu and Sanemi standing together, he screamed as if burial and cremation had come at once. Rolling either way meant death.
But Maeda Masao wasn't one to stay down after falling.
Avoiding eye contact desperately with Kōgetsu and Sanemi, Maeda rapidly spilled words.
"Stop it. Violence is wrong. I'm innocent. It's a misunderstanding. No evidence, yet you barge in? How violent. What's truly disgusting is you, looking at women with such eyes. Shifting your own sexual desires onto me? Unbelievable. Unforgivable. If a slayer's skirt looks short, it's because she's in a growth spurt. I absolutely did not shorten it bit by bit during repairs. Are we done? I'm busy with work piled like a mountain, and I don't want to waste time on this false accusation."
At his eloquent speech, rattling his round glasses with his middle finger, Shinazugawa looked skeptical. Kōgetsu also gazed calmly at Maeda, a faint smile on his lips.
"……About Makomo-chan's uniform?"
"Eeek! You noticed even though I did it by the millimeter?!" (※1 ri (厘) ≈ 0.3mm)
"Got you! I just glanced, you idiot! I wasn't here to get mad at Maeda-san, but now that it's come to this, I can't let it slide! Verdict: guilty! Three years imprisonment or a 30-minute sermon!"
"Gyaaaaah! I dug my own graaaave!"
Maeda was sentenced. Hanging from a building pillar, wailing like a newborn cicada, Maeda was mercilessly dragged away. The Moon Hashira's strength, having entered a growth spurt, was incomparable to before.
"So you stopped being blatant and switched to sneaky methods?! When will you ever get a grip, Maeda-san!"
"I won't yield, I won't yield! Maeda may die, but perversion never dies!"
"Don't act like it's a famous quote! Apologize to Itagaki Daisuke! I'll beat you with a three-three-seven rhythm!!"
Perhaps mindful of how his last sermon made even the other sewing division members tremble, Kōgetsu considerately dragged Maeda out of the workshop.
With the screams and shouts from outside as BGM, one sewing division member, smiling like an unchanging RPG NPC, spoke to Shinazugawa.
"Lord Shinazugawa, you're here for a new top, right? It's ready, of course. Please take it."
"Ah."
Rumors abounded that Shinazugawa, who once exuded sharp杀气 like an exploded hedgehog, had softened a bit lately.
Indeed, the current Shinazugawa didn't feel as terrifying as before. Though his face still looked like a yakuza's.
"If anything else comes up, we'll handle it."
Fortunately for Maeda, Shinazugawa didn't seem interested in joining the sermon. Tucking the new uniform under his arm, he left the workshop.
・
・
・
Kōgetsu and Maeda returned exactly 30 minutes later.
"So, Moon Hashira-sama, what brought you here?"
Back in the workshop, Maeda asked in a voice hoarse and cracked.
While being scolded, Maeda wailed, but he was the type to forget the heat once it passed his throat, quickly regaining composure even after a beating. That's why his sexual harassment recidivism rate was high.
If someone had a face like Shinazugawa's, from that line of work, the fear would last, but Kōgetsu was just a normal boy if you didn't provoke him, so there was no need to be afraid.
"I want a hood just like the Kakushi's."
"You mean the same hood as ours?"
"Yeah. As a sunshade."
"……If I may ask, what about the hat you usually wear?"
Asked that, Kōgetsu laughed weakly, saying it had torn.
"Made a mistake on a mission. I was fine, but the hat got totally sizzled. Should've kept it in my pocket instead of wearing it all the time out of laziness."
A shadow seemed to fall over his face, not just a trick of the light.
Maeda had worked long in the Demon Slayer Corps sewing division. He'd been here since Kōgetsu joined, so he well knew the Moon Hashira always wore the same hat.
And that the hunting cap, like a bowler hat, had already been worn out when he enlisted.
That hat must have been an unforgettable memory for Kōgetsu. Perhaps a gift from family for his sensitive skin. Many slayers relied on memories as they traversed the battlefield.
"Do you still have the hat?"
"I do, but it can't be fixed, right? Took it to a hat shop at the foot of the mountain, and they said it's better to throw it away."
"That's just that craftsman's incompetence."
Cutting straight to the point, Maeda continued calmly.
"I'll patch it with fabric, but I'll fix it for you. Since the color faded, I'll dye it too. Here are color samples; tell me the original color."
Handing over a color sample book briskly, but even without being told, he remembered the color vividly. A beautiful dark cloud color, like a cloudy sky just before thunder.
"Huh, but won't it take a lot of work? I just need something to block the sun. If I can get a Kakushi hood…."
"Don't say it takes a lot of work; that's disappointing. Supporting slayers is our duty as Kakushi. ……And."
Pushing up his round glasses, Maeda said.
"This hood isn't for blocking sunlight but for concealing our appearance. It's for us Kakushi. We can't give it to slayers."
The Ubuyashiki residence, the path to the swordsmith village, or traces of battles with demons. Hiding all that, the Demon Slayer Corps' shadow, that is the Kakushi.
Even if discovered by demons, Kakushi always cover their faces so their affiliation isn't obvious. The hood is for that purpose.
"If the moon's form is hidden, the slayers would feel uneasy. It's not something to mention lightly."
Even Maeda, who'd never been on the front lines, knew well how much comfort a Hashira's appearance brought to slayers.
"Now, please bring the hat quickly."
"Huh, huh? Really? You sure?"
"Don't underestimate us."
Even after Maeda's firm words, Kōgetsu still looked bewildered. His doubtful eyes suggested he'd heard some harsh words at the mountain foot hat shop.
Looking back, this Moon Hashira only visited the sewing division for new uniforms or repairs, never crossing this mansion's threshold for other reasons.
He should just come casually for requests like other slayers, without unnecessary worry.
Supporting slayers is the Kakushi's role. There's nothing burdensome about it.
"I've been meaning to tell you, but please absolutely refrain from entrusting haori or hats to outside craftsmen from now on. What would you say if they asked how it got torn?"
"S-sorry."
"No need for apologies."
"Th-thank you?"
"You're welcome. Now, hurry up. If you bring it today… hmm, I'll finish by tomorrow noon."
Without waiting for Kōgetsu's reply, Maeda pushed him out of the workshop and sighed as if after a big ordeal.
About to get back to work, he met the eyes of colleagues whispering among themselves.
"Pervert Glasses… when dealing with men, you do work properly, don't you?"
"Bold to promise repairs without even seeing the condition; I couldn't do that."
"Skillwise, he's good, Pervert Glasses."
"If only he didn't turn into Maeda when dealing with women, he'd be the best craftsman."
"Can't fix that, so he's Maeda, Pervert Glasses."
"Don't insult people by their gender! Apologize to all the Maeda-sans in Tokyo! First, apologize to the Maeda-san right here!!"
"You're the one who should apologize to all the Maeda-sans nationwide!! This disgrace to Maeda!!"
"I've never once been ashamed of my sexual preferences! Too bad! Nya nya!!"
A man with passion poured into perversion and a sexual harassment-prone personality, yet Maeda wasn't kicked out because his skills were recognized.
He was a man who could be called the core of the Demon Slayer Corps sewing division. Written as Maeda, read as Pervert Glasses.
Ignoring colleagues' "That's why Maeda is!" criticisms, Maeda tried to resume his interrupted work——
"Um…"
"What is it, Maeda?"
"Where's the uniform that was here?"
"We gave it to Lord Shinazugawa."
"Eek."
A moment of silence. Maeda instantly turned pale.
"Shi-shi-Shinazugawa-san's uniform is this one!"
What Maeda held up was another uniform right beside him.
"Then what did we hand over earlier?"
Asked by a colleague, Maeda smoothly averted his gaze.
Backlit, the eyes behind his lenses were invisible.
"……A prototype… I was working on."
A familiar yet ominous预感 spread among the colleagues.
It felt nothing but like a bomb.
"Hey, wait. What's with that silence?"
"Don't tell me a new pervert uniform?!"
"……'Masao was splendid to the end'… please tell that to my father."
"Something so terrifying you turned pale and prepared for death?!"
"But we only gave the top to Lord Shinazugawa, right?!"
"That's right. The top. For a lady with a fiercely assertive chest, I wanted her to wear it, so with every stitch filled with heart, I removed the first to third buttons for a cool, open style."
Hands together. No need for further words.
The colleagues quietly closed their eyes in silent prayer.
A few hours later.
"Earlier, I passed by Lord Shinazugawa."
"Yeah."
"He was wearing it normally, that uniform."
"Eek."
"So Moon Hashira-sama yelled 'You really are an exhibitionist!!' and they got into a fistfight."
"What, that's scary."
A few minutes later, Maeda, who had been trembling, unable to even use his hands properly for fear of being exterminated by Shinazugawa, heard that chatter and wailed, snot flowing, "It wasn't made for a mannnn!!"
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