Chapter 16

On the dawning of your sixth day in Kakunodate, you awaken inside the room of one of the town's premier, yet surprisingly affordable inns. This particular one boasts a long history, heavily favoured by scholars and merchants during the shogunates' rein. Once you had entered the room, you instantly understood the reason for the inn's continued popularity despite Kakunodate's glory days being long past.

You've never encountered a room like this, impeccably clean and outfitted with tasteful furnishings. Furthermore, it came equipped with a desk and chair. After a quick check, you were also delighted to discover that walls here were thick. Shutting the windows easily sealed the room in a vacuum of silence.

True to Urai's word, there was also a private bank just a sprint down the street, surrounded by mid to upper class homes. The presence of shops and merchant guilds nearby made the area equally as the market in the previous district. This location couldn't have been more perfect.

Letting out a yawn, you raise your hands above your head and give your back a long and painful stretch. You rub your face, feeling the indented lines in your skin. The dark red marks are testament to your falling asleep at the desk last night.

Blinking the sleep from your eyes, you reach for the window. A single push throws the shutters wide open. Sunlight floods the room and fills it with warmth. A kindling breeze slips in and tickles your face, carrying with it the noisy bustle of a fresh morning.

The mood of the merchant district is energetic. It's been this way ever you've taken up board in the inn. You remember being drunk on the atmosphere during your search for clues on possible demon sightings, ecstatically fluttering from shop to shop, mingling with local merchants and neighbourly inhabitants.

Today, any sort of cheer eludes you. You're feel like the person who's lost their entire family fortune to a risky business decision.

You stare down at the messy pile of scrap paper you'd flattened in your sleep. These papers contain every bit of info, truthful or otherwise, from everyone you've met over the entire course of these five days. The people here aren't overly friendly, but most are genuine and easy to get along with. Once you had successfully ingratiated yourself with them, their words flowed unhindered like the evening tide.

With this much information at your fingertips, how is it that you've yet to find clues on the whereabouts of the elusive demon you've been ordered to slay?

You pluck the wrinkled paper from the top of the flattened pile. Sunlight prickling your skin, your body traps warmth as you settle down to read. However, after rereading, you discover that even a full night's rest brings about no new insights.

"This is ridiculous. How can a town be this peaceful?"

The general consensus among the townsfolk is that things have been business as usual. Kakunodate has yet to see any major incidents this past year. You pick at your stubble in agitation. None of your theories, based off of the information you've gathered, hold water. There are no signs of any demons lurking in the shadows.

So far, the sole issue that sticks out is the mystery of the dwindling visitors. The answers you received on this subject wildly varied, so much that you can't even begin to root out the true cause.

Residents blame rivalling towns. Merchants and businesses attribute it to the rise of bandits in surrounding areas, plus the slew of newly established trade guilds in major cities, which had caused a ripple effect in bringing down the prices of goods throughout the country.

The latter news you have heard about, but this is your first time witnessing a place so impacted by the changes. That seems to be the most probable cause for the lack of visitors. No person would waste upwards of a month travelling to remote towns for slight discounts on goods if they could get what they wanted within a day for a couple of more yen.

You slam the paper on the desk. "Do I have to grill that man for answers after all?"

The strangest thing about the entire situation is that not a single person has mentioned shogunate loyalists. When you brought up the subject, everyone would only offer blank and confused looks in return. It was only that guard, what was his name… Wareta? – who had hinted loyalists or rebels had had something to do with the pathetic visitor counts.

After everything you've learned so far, you're pretty sure low foot traffic has nothing to do with a single party or demon. But if that's the case, it just means you've spent the better part of your time chasing shadows…

"This mission," you mutter darkly. "Can go screw itself."

Your crow had given you exactly zero details on the matter, and unfortunately, no one can be blamed. It's already unfathomably difficult for informants to slog through mountains of false rumours and useless hearsay in their search for demons. Rarely do Slayers know what to expect other than knowing where they should go.

You don't notice the sun blotted out until you look up to see an elongated shadow falling over you. Your Kasugai Crow barely misses the top of your head as it swoops through the window. You glare at it over your shoulder, watching as it perches grandly on your bedpost.

"RY-UU," it screeches. "LETTER DELI-VERD!" The bird follows this up with a grating caw.

"Shhh!" Thank goodness for thick walls. You don't think the inn allows animals. Demon Slayers are not exempt from all laws, contrary to what some comrades think. "Don't get me thrown out, you hear?" You release a grateful puff of breath when your messenger flicks its head back and forth. "I've troubled you. It's good that you have safely returned."

Your Kasugai Crow flaps its wings, its haughty manner almost mocking you for thinking otherwise. You're not surprised to find it in a good mood. It has probably eaten triple its weight in food thanks to Aoi.

You find yourself slightly jealous. You miss the food, company, and the ability to take random books from the Corps' outrageously huge library. It must be amazing to have the ability to cross great distances in less than a third of time you take to travel on foot. If you had the ability of flight, you'd have chose to fly back this instant. The urge is especially strong now that your mission has stalled.

You sigh. The longer grievances are allowed to simmer, the harder they become to forgive. It has been slightly over a month since that awful fight, and Shinobu must be…

You catch yourself before you can give into pessimism. "Forget it. It's useless to think about that. Or maybe… I should write her a letter? I don't know how long I'll be stuck here, so it'll be good if–" You hastily scrap that idea, muttering, "No, no, that's too insincere. It might just make things worse."

Matter of fact, there's also no guarantee Shinobu would read it. You rub at your face, disappointed. Similar to this mission, everything you have come up with seems utterly pointless.

You glance over at your crow, suddenly recalling what you bidden it to do. "Right, do you have a reply for me?"

Aoi's letter is grasped tightly in your sweaty hands after a short battle for the message tube. You fling the ruffled crow an distasteful glare. You can't believe it demanded a treat before letting you get anywhere near the tube. It's getting seriously getting spoilt.

"I'll write to Aoi to stop feeding you if you try something like that again." Your warning goes unheeded as the crow returns to its perch, fluffing up its feathers and settling in to roost. Ah, forget it. You should have known this bird was a lost cause from the moment it met you.

You turn over expensive parchment in your hands. There in dark bold lettering are Aoi's initials. You toy with the string wrapped rolled tightly around it. As you make to undo it, your stomach lets out a ghoulish growl.

You pause. Your mood is still a little too black to enjoy whatever Aoi would have written. After thinking about it, you decide to put off the reading for later. It might be better to read on a full stomach.

And who knows? A good meal might lend some new insight into your troubles.

---

You settle for a roadside stall selling udon and fishcake skewers. It sits directly opposite of the private bank, demurely positioned near the outer mouth of a alley. Judging how every rickety table and chair within the area is occupied, this seems like a fantastic spot for business.

You snag a freshly vacated table farthest from the main stall. You turn your chair in a different direction to avoid the glare from a man who'd been eying the same spot. Your back is turned to the alley, and you check over your shoulder. When it's clear no strange creature is hidden in the musty darkness, waiting to jump you the moment your back is turned, you flag down the waiter boy.

You end up ordering a large bowl of plain udon and four entire skewers of fishcakes to go along. The money Urai returned you was a hefty sum, you could eat like a king for months if you wanted. After surviving on less during your journey, forced to eat frugally due to lack of funds, this isn't so much wasting money as it is making up for lost time.

Looking at the waiter boy's stick thin figure, you tip him with whatever pocket change you have left. Your action spurs him into grinning widely. His mouth remains stuck in that shape even when he scampers off to fulfil your order.

When your meal arrives sooner than expected, you only need glance at the waiter boy, who shoots you a playful wink, to know he must have something to do with it. You nod in thanks, shooting him a grin, before concentrating on your meal.

The bowl of udon gives off sheets of steam. Just looking at it makes sweat gather on your brow. Though the sun won't reach its zenith anytime soon, you still make the decision to take off your haori. You don't want to roast in your clothes for the sake of concealing the eye catching words on the back of your uniform.

Seriously, this uniform might as well be signalling government agents to arrest you on sight.

Once you've shed your outerwear, you start nibbling on a skewer of assorted fishcakes. One of your hands grazes your stomach. You have probably put on a fair bit of weight this past week.

Missions regularly wreck your eating habits since you tend to stuff yourself with two meals in one sitting. It's not necessary, of course, but better to err to the side of caution. Demons won't give lunch breaks if they catch Slayers low on fuel.

As you chomp on the udon, their chewiness bordering on jaw breaking, you bite off a piece of the hilariously over salted fishcakes. Their combined taste nearly makes you want to shed a tear. The spark of jealousy toward your Kasugai Crow erupts into a burning wildfire. Seriously, it's so unfair how that bird gets to eat fantastic home cooked meals while you're stuck with roadside fare…

"Hey, boy, fancy meeting you here!"

The shout pummels into your left eardrum. You are momentarily dazed, and your half half-eaten fishcake slips from your chopsticks to land on the ground, limp and silent.

You stare at it gravely. You set down your chopsticks and grip the hilt of your sword. All it would take is a single slash and you would have your revenge.

In the end, you forcefully uncrimp your fingers and peel them off the sword handle. Much as you desire to commit murder, it wouldn't set a good example if the news reaches the ears of the children of the Butterfly Estate.

"Hmm? Did you forget who I am, Kuroshio-san?" The man who's just barely averted a crisis cheerily repaints the target on his forehead. Fortunately for him, you've already reined in your temper.

When you finally look up at the face of the person who's ruined your breakfast, you barely restrain from groaning.

"Wareta-san, this is a pleasant surprise." Your tone is politely stiff, just only managing to mask your exasperation. "Shouldn't you be on duty? What brings you here?"

"Ah, so you do remember me after all. For a moment, I was worried I might have embarrassed myself," Wareta says. "I spotted you when I was patrolling 'round the area and thought I ought to come greet you." At your nod, he lets out a unrestrained roar of laughter. "But I didn't think you'd go stiff from shock after seeing me!"

Wareta stands beside your table, his back facing the alley. Did he come from that direction? He mentioned being on patrol. Shady hiding places like those probably warrants a thorough search, even in daylight.

His appearance hasn't changed much from the first time you met him. He remains dressed in the feudal uniform of Kakunodate's guardsmen with a katana hanging from his hip. Unlike the figure of intimidation he represented when you first met him at the gate, anyone who laid eyes upon him at present would find themselves imbued with irrepressible sense of security.

You feel exactly the opposite. Seeing him makes you recall your failure, of leads to running into dead ends. Your mood blackens despite you managing to keep the appropriately friendly smile plastered on your face.

"I was shocked, because I was just thinking about having a nice drink tonight, and then there you were. If only I had this kind of luck regarding other, more important matters."

"Kuroshio-san, when you get to my age, you'll realize she strongly favours men who find time to drink and make merry."

Wareta's reply is completely at odds with the serious set to his mouth and his complete conviction in his words. Your smile grows slightly genuine at the older man's amicable manner, but a thought pops into your head that rebuilds the wall that he'd been steadily melting.

You and Wareta have shared conversation, but it doesn't warrant this kind of enthusiasm. A normal person wouldn't blatantly call for someone they knew no better than a stranger. You have to wonder about his motives for approaching you.

"You might be right about that," you say. "Now, look. All that talk has got me hankering for a cup of sake. Not very respectable at this time of day."

"It is what it is." Wareta's shoulders lift in a shrug to hammer the point home. "Kuroshio-san, I hope you haven't forgotten your promise to buy me a drink."

"I'm pretty sure it was the other way around. But, since I want to avoid being accused of not respecting my elders, I'll sponsor you a round at your wife's shop. I trust the alcohol there is as good as you say."

Wareta grins and smacks your shoulder. "That's a merchant for you, knowing when to cosy up to someone important!"

You eye your surroundings to confirm no one's eavesdropping on the conversation. Deciding to take a gamble, you then lean in and say, "There's obviously a need to keep you happy, Wareta-san. I still want to know more about that issue we talked about last time. I've been asking around to get a clearer picture, but it hasn't gone very well. I'm at the end of my rope."

Wareta strokes his beard, shedding his jolly demeanour like a snake would its skin. His eyes bore into you. You feel a strange sort of relief despite change in demeanour. Finally, you have confirmed the man is no simple character. If he was, how would he have reacted so swiftly? It's been nearly a week since that conversation you both shared.

You wonder if he's kept his eye on you this past week, and wonder if you should have done to same for him.

"… you're a blunt one." Wareta loses some of his aggressive air and ceases picking at his beard. "The things I mentioned that day, about the loyalists? I had hoped you'd forgotten by now. Don't blame me for being unkind, just… just take it as a slip of tongue. I'm not supposed to speak of the matter with outsiders."

You can't help but feel thoroughly amused. Such an obvious ploy to bait you. Wareta is either underestimating you or is truly the chatty middle aged man he paints himself to be. Seeing his complete one-eighty in personality, you're inclined to believe the former than the latter.

Faced with Wareta's strange behaviour, you suddenly have an inkling whatever Wareta is hiding is connected to the reason for you being sent here. Everything in this town that you've seen and experienced, nothing stands out as starkly the man before you.

The main question is… what he is doing this all for?

You mirror his actions and gently scratch your chin. "Wareta-san, do I look like the kind of person who would ask you to put yourself on the line without any compensation?" You lower your voice conspiratorially, "The information you have is invaluable to someone in my line of work. I'm willing to grant you a generous portion of assets in exchange for the truth, and your silence."

Wareta sinks into a deep thought. To anyone else, he would have looked distressed – the image of a man struggling over a matter dear to his heart.

But for someone who has grown up in the trade of buying and selling, counting innumerable stacks of money and sometimes gold, what have you not seen? The gleam in his slightly sunken eyes you easily recognize as the look of someone who thinks they have gotten away with something.

If only you had known to confront this man sooner. You could have been back at the Butterfly Estate by now.

"What do you think, Wareta-san?" You say. "I can give you a written guarantee if you are worried I might go against my word." Predictably, the corners of his lips quirk up. You think he must be congratulating himself. You spoke first, which must mean that he has the upper hand.

"…meet me at this address tonight," Wareta grimaces as he recounts the address of his wife's shop. "Let's discuss the finer details over sake."

"My treat," You add. "I'll be seeing you, then."

You stare at Wareta's back as he leaves. His broad back cuts a lonely figure among the joviality of his surroundings. Once he's out of sight, you turn back to your bowl of udon, already cold and soggy. You polish it off quick as lightning, not a single word of complaint. There is no space for useless thoughts, your mind occupied by the first stirrings of a plan for tonight.

You make a decision to pay a visit to Urai and his in-laws later. You have a favour you need to ask of them.