Girl stealing food in the snow
It had been snowing heavily for three days. The mountains and forests were completely silent, with only the rustling of falling snowflakes. In front of Xuantu's tombstone, a thin figure huddled in the snow.
Shiro Inji reached out her purple, frozen hands and carefully picked up a rice ball. She hadn't eaten in three days, and her fingers were trembling from the cold. Just as she was about to bite into the rice ball, the sound of snow crunching underfoot suddenly came from behind her.
"Who are you?"
A deep voice boomed from behind. Shiro Yinji turned abruptly, dropping the rice ball in her hand into the snow. She stared warily at the blue-haired young man who had suddenly appeared, a flicker of panic in her dark pupils.
Tomioka Giyuu looked at the scantily clad girl before him. She was about fourteen or fifteen, her long silver hair dusted with snowflakes, and she shivered slightly in the cold wind. What caught him most was that the girl's eyes, unlike those of an ordinary child, held the alertness of a wild animal.
"This is a tribute to the deceased." Yiyong said, his voice still calm.
Tsujishiro didn't answer, but just stared at him intently, as if ready to run away at any moment.
Yiyong was silent for a moment, then bent down to pick up the fallen rice ball and gently brushed off the snowflakes on it. "If you're hungry, I can take you to eat something else."
"No need." Tsujishiro's voice was soft, yet filled with chilling indifference. "This is all I need."
She reached out to take the rice ball back, but Giyuu raised her arm slightly. Then he noticed that the girl's wrist was covered with fine scars, as if she had been injured by a sharp weapon.
"Where are your family members?" Yiyong asked.
Tsujishiro's eyes flickered. "Dead."
"Was it a ghost?"
The question was asked calmly, yet it made Tsuji Shiro stiffen. She recalled that bloody night three years ago, and the image of Upper Moon Two devouring humans flashed through her mind.
"...Yes." She answered in a low voice.
Giyuu's gaze lingered on the girl for a long moment. He noticed she stood in a strange way, her feet slightly apart and her center of gravity low, as if she'd undergone some kind of training. But it didn't seem like the kind of swordsmanship training one would expect from the Demon Slayer Corps.
"Come with me," he said finally. "The Demon Slayer Corps can give you shelter and food."
Yinji Bai took a half step back cautiously, "I don't need pity."
"This isn't pity." Yiyong's tone remained calm. "If you really hate ghosts, you should learn how to destroy them."
Snowflakes fell between them, leaving only the sound of the wind. Tsujishiro looked at the indifferent young man before her, then at the rice ball in her hand. It had been a long time since she had met someone who would lend a helping hand.
"Just eating?" she confirmed.
"And training." Giyuu added, "Becoming a member of the Demon Slayer Corps is not easy."
Shiro Yinji lowered his head and thought for a moment. She really had nowhere else to go, and if she could learn how to deal with ghosts...
"Okay." She agreed softly, but the vigilance in her eyes had not completely disappeared.
Giyuu turned and walked ahead, while Tsujishiro followed silently behind, keeping a distance of about three steps. As they walked, Giyuu suddenly spoke:
"My name is Tomioka Giyu."
"...Drink Tsuji Shiro."
Yiyong didn't look back, but he slowed down his pace a little to allow the thin figure behind him to catch up. The snowflakes grew bigger and bigger, and soon left behind a trail of footprints that gradually became covered.
The snow in the mountains grew thicker, and Tomioka Giyu's haori fluttered in the wind and snow like a moving barrier. Yinji Shiro followed silently behind, maintaining just the right distance—far enough to be alert, but not too far to lose him.
"How long will it take?" Her voice was a little broken by the wind.
Yiyong didn't look back, but his pace slowed down slightly. "We can reach the foot of the mountain before dark."
They walked one after the other on the snowy mountain road. Shiro's eyes kept flicking to the Nichirin sword at Giyu's waist, its scabbard gleaming darkly in the snow. She thought of Kokushibo's sword, that katana whose vibrations were always shrouded in the cold moonlight.
"Are you a swordsman too?" she couldn't help but ask.
"Um."
The short answer made her stop asking questions. But after a while, Yiyong took the initiative to speak:
"All members of the Demon Slayer Corps use the Nichirin Sword."
Shiro looked down at the footprints she had left in the snow. The technique of Moon Breathing surfaced in her mind, and the sound of the blade cutting through the air during those nights of repeated practice under Kokushibo's guidance was still ringing in her ears.
"I...can't use a knife," she said.
Yiyong finally turned around to look at her. Snowflakes fell on the tips of his dark blue hair, and a hint of doubt flashed in his usually calm eyes.
"Your stance looks like you've practiced sword fighting."
Bai's heart skipped a beat. She subconsciously adjusted her center of gravity to make herself look more relaxed.
"It's just that before... I had to help with housework and maintain a balance."
This explanation sounded forced, but Yiyong didn't delve into it. He turned around and continued to lead the way.
After walking a little further, we came across a simple teahouse. The wooden signboard creaked in the wind and snow.
"Let's take a break." Yiyong said, and walked into the tea shed first.
The teahouse was quiet, with only an old man napping behind the counter. Yiyong ordered two bowls of hot tea and a pancake, then sat down by the window.
Bai stood hesitantly at the door, snowflakes drifting in from behind her and turning into dark stains at her feet.
"Sit down." Yiyong pointed to the seat opposite.
She then slowly walked over and sat stiffly on the edge of the bench. Hot tea was pushed in front of her, and the steaming white steam blurred her vision.
"Drink it."
Bai carefully lifted the teacup, letting the warmth penetrate the coarse earthenware and reach her frozen fingertips. She took small sips, the warmth flowing down her throat and into her stomach.
Yiyong pushed the pancake in front of her. "Eat."
This time she didn't refuse. The aroma of the pancakes piqued her hunger, so she picked up a piece and took a small, restrained bite.
"Where are you from?" Yiyong asked suddenly.
Bai's hand paused. The steam rising from the tea bowl swirled before her eyes.
"The little village to the north," she whispered, "is gone."
Yiyong looked at her silently, and something seemed to flicker in his eyes, which were always expressionless. He thought of Xuntu and his companions who died in Nada Spider Mountain.
"Many people in the Demon Slayer Corps have had similar experiences."
Bai raised his head and took a good look at the young man across from him for the first time. He looked to be in his early twenties, but his eyes showed that he had been through a lot.
"Your family also..."
"Sister." Yiyong's answer was brief, but weighed a thousand pounds.
The teahouse fell silent, save for the gentle snoring of the old man and the whistling of snow outside the window. Bai took another bite of the pancake, the sweetness spreading through her mouth. This was her first taste of human food since becoming a ghost. In the lab, there was only cold blood and drugs.
"Becoming a member of the Demon Slayer Corps..." she asked softly, "Can I kill demons?"
"It depends on your strength." Yiyong put down the tea money and stood up. "Once you have rested enough, continue on your journey."
Bai quickly stuffed the last bite of pancake into her mouth and followed. As she left the teahouse, she noticed that the hem of Giyu's haori had been soaked dark by the snow.
The snow gradually subsided, and the mountain path became clearer. Giyuu's steps were steady and even, and Bai followed silently behind, watching his every move. As a disciple of Kokushibo, she could tell that this young swordsman was quite skilled.
"arrive."
Yiyong's voice interrupted her thoughts. At the foot of the mountain, a house emerged from the snow. A thick layer of snow accumulated on the green-tiled roof, and the walls stretched out, with no end in sight.
"This is a training ground for the Demon Slayer Corps." Giyong pushed open the wooden door. "You'll stay here tonight."
Bai stood at the door, hesitating to go in immediately. In the yard, several teenagers who were sweeping snow looked over curiously.
"Mr. Tomioka!" A young man with a ponytail ran over. "Who is this?"
Giyuu simply nodded, "New here."
The boy looked at Bai curiously, especially her rare silver hair. "Hello, I'm Furuta."
Bai didn't respond, but just shrank behind Yiyong.
"Take her to the guest room," Giyuu told the boy, then turned to Shiro, "Training will begin tomorrow."
Furuta enthusiastically led the way. Shiro followed him through the courtyard, catching a glimpse of several figures practicing swordplay in the distance. The sound of bamboo swords piercing the air reminded her of Kokushibo's teachings.
"This is it." Gu Tian pushed open a paper door. "Call me if you need anything."
The room was simple, with only a bed and a small table. Bai stood in the middle of the room, listening to Furuta's footsteps fade away. She walked to the window and gently opened it a crack.
Yiyong was still standing in the yard, snowflakes falling on his shoulders. He looked up in a certain direction, his silhouette looking particularly lonely in the snow.
Bai gently closed the window. This unfamiliar place made her uneasy, but compared to the cold lab, at least it felt warm. She touched the fine scars on her wrists, the marks left by countless experiments.
There were footsteps outside the door, followed by a gentle knock on the door.
"Dinner." It was Yiyong's voice.
Shiro opened the door and saw him standing there with a tray. The aroma of steaming rice and miso soup hit her face.
"Thank you," she whispered, taking the tray.
Yiyong nodded, turned to leave, but stopped.
"I'll come and call you tomorrow morning."
Bai watched him leave and gently closed the door. The food on the tray was simple, but it made her eyes warm. After becoming a ghost, she never thought she could live like an ordinary person.
Outside the window, the snow started falling again.
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