Inosuke wasn't joking—he really was going home.
After several consecutive days of surviving on watery porridge with only a few grains of rice, plus boiled radishes without even a hint of oil, he had finally reached his limit.
"I quit!"
Inosuke flung off his blanket and hurled his pillow hard onto the floor.
"This is abuse! An outrageous insult to my noble digestive system! I'm going home! I want meat! I want to eat Mom's tempura and Dad's sashimi!"
Tanjiro, who had been obediently drinking his medicine nearby, jumped in fright and quickly set the cup down.
"Inosuke, calm down. Shinobu said our injuries aren't fully healed yet, we can't—"
"Shut up, Gonpachiro!"
Inosuke stood on the bed with his hands on his hips. Though he was wearing a tacky hospital gown, his presence still dominated the two boys completely.
"The air here is too dry, the bed's too hard, and most importantly—this place isn't run by me!"
He took a deep breath, as if remembering something, and a nostalgic look appeared on his face.
"I miss that cold, empty great hall back home. I miss those idiots who happily bring me money. And…"
His voice dropped slightly. In his mind surfaced the image of that foolish mom who always hummed off-key songs while sewing him nice clothes, and that annoying-but-slowly-learning-to-love dad.
"In short, I'm getting discharged. Now. Immediately. This instant."
Zenitsu, who had been playing dead in the corner, sprang up like a reanimated corpse when he heard the word discharge.
"Discharged? I want out too! This place is terrifying! Every day I have to drink medicine that's more bitter than poison! I'm going home to Grandpa!"
"Hmph! I forbid it!"
Inosuke shot Zenitsu a sideways glance.
"Dream on. You're my third underling. Without my permission, you're not going anywhere."
"That's not fair!" Zenitsu wailed.
Ignoring his crying, Inosuke jumped down neatly from the bed and began packing—though there wasn't much to pack. His twin blades, his iron fan, and his tattered Corps uniform.
"Inosuke… are you going back… home?" Tanjiro asked, watching his busy back, a hint of envy in his eyes.
Since losing his family, the word home had become painfully distant.
"That's right."
Inosuke didn't turn around.
"Back to the Eternal Paradise Cult. Sure, there's a perverted old dad there, but at least the food's filling and the beds are soft."
"Eternal Paradise Cult…?"
Tanjiro repeated the name.
"It sounds… like a religious group?"
"It's a very rich place," Inosuke replied concisely.
Tanjiro thought for a moment, then suddenly stood up, his expression serious.
"If it's Inosuke's home, then I'd like to visit as well."
"Huh?"
Inosuke paused and turned around, looking at Tanjiro like he was an idiot.
"What for? To beg for food?"
"No," Tanjiro shook his head earnestly.
"On the Mugen Train, everyone survived because you fought so desperately. And you said your father—um, the Cult Leader—has always supported you behind the scenes. I want to thank him in person for raising someone as unique as you."
Inosuke froze.
Thank Doma? Thank that idiot?
Just imagining Doma putting on that fake oh my, I'm so shy being praised expression made Inosuke's stomach churn.
But…
His eyes rolled. He glanced at Tanjiro's sturdy back, then at Zenitsu—crybaby though he was, surprisingly tough.
The road home was long; two porters would come in handy. And if he brought these two along, that old geezer might find it amusing—and if he was happy, maybe he'd hand out a fat allowance.
"…It's not impossible."
Inosuke stroked his chin and put on a very friendly smile.
"But the Eternal Paradise Cult isn't open to just anyone. Entrance fee: five hundred. Lodging and food self-paid. And you carry my blades."
"No problem!" Tanjiro agreed instantly.
"I wanna go too!" Zenitsu suddenly stopped crying and scooted closer, cheeks slightly flushed.
"Um… Eternal Paradise Cult sounds… very blissful. Are there lots of cute girls there?"
Inosuke thought of the female believers who were utterly obsessed with Doma, and of the beautiful attendant Ume.
"Plenty. And every single one's gentler than the vicious old hag at the Butterfly Estate."
"I'm in! I'm going! Big bro, take me with you! Please! I've always wanted to join your cult!"
"I'll carry your blades! I'll carry you if I have to! Just take me!"
Zenitsu latched shamelessly onto Inosuke's leg.
Just like that, the three finalized their jailbreak plan in under a minute.
However, just as they tiptoed to the infirmary door—
Creeeak—
The door opened.
Shinobu Kocho stood there, still holding that spotless tray, her smile unfathomable.
"Oh my~ Where are you three heading off to?"
Zenitsu collapsed straight to his knees. Tanjiro stiffened nervously.
Only Inosuke—though inwardly uneasy—forced himself to stand tall, arms crossed, putting on a righteous front.
"We're taking leave. Long-term medical leave."
"The food here is bad for recovery. I'm taking them back to the Eternal Paradise Cult to recuperate."
Though his chin was raised, there was a trace of guilt in Inosuke's voice. He knew better than anyone the history between his cult and the woman before him.
Every time he healed at the Butterfly Estate, it hurt—emotionally.
He didn't know how to make his father atone to Shinobu.
A life for a life—he couldn't bear that.
A simple apology felt too cheap.
He complained about this place, but he was grateful for how carefully she had treated them.
Maybe only if that grindy-headed idiot became human, spending his long life repaying his guilt, would it count as sincerity.
But right now, he couldn't do that.
So he would run.
Escapism might be shameful—but it worked.
"Eternal Paradise Cult…?" Shinobu's gaze flickered slightly.
In the past, she would have stopped them without hesitation. But now… looking at this strange boy who had truly saved everyone, her feelings were complicated.
He was raised by a demon—yet he lacked that nauseating stench of corruption. Instead, he carried a genuine sense of responsibility to protect others.
"Do you want to go back and see your family?"
Shinobu suddenly asked, her tone oddly gentle.
Inosuke shuddered, goosebumps breaking out.
"Who wants to see that old pervert?! I'm going back to see my mom! My mom's kind of dumb—she'll miss me. It's not like I miss her that much, but I have to go back. Just one look."
Seeing his awkward bluster, Shinobu's smile seemed a little more real.
"Alright."
"Huh?"
All three froze. That easy?
"But there's a condition."
Shinobu took three large paper packets from the tray and shoved them into their arms.
"These medicines. Three times a day. Not a single dose missed. And if next time I see you, your injuries have worsened…"
She raised a finger and gently tapped the air.
"I'll drag all of you back and make you take ten times the dosage every day."
"Yes! Ma'am! We'll absolutely take our medicine on time!"
The three shouted in unison and fled in panic.
Only Inosuke snuck one last glance back.
"She really is… a very good person."
Half an hour later, outside the Butterfly Estate gates.
No grand carriage. No farewell party. Yet their moods were inexplicably light.
Inosuke walked in front, wearing an ill-fitting uniform but strutting like he owned the world.
"Listen up, underlings."
He flicked open his iron fan and pointed north.
"That way is my territory. Once we're there, there are only three rules."
"First: don't stare at my mom. She's very pretty, and if you stare too long, my dad will lose his mind."
"Second: don't stare at my dad. That guy's brain is broken—stare too long and it might be contagious."
"Third—and most important."
Inosuke stopped and turned back, emerald eyes glinting.
"No matter what you see or hear, remember this: I'm the boss. If you embarrass me, I'll sell you to Shinobu as medicinal ingredients."
"Got it?"
"Got it! Boss Inosuke!" Zenitsu answered enthusiastically—for girls, he had no bottom line.
"Got it! Inosuke!" Tanjiro replied earnestly.
Satisfied with these two unfortunate underlings, Inosuke nodded.
"Move out! Destination—Eternal Paradise Cult!"
At the same time.
At the Eternal Paradise Cult.
Doma, in the middle of preaching to believers, suddenly sneezed. He rubbed his nose and smiled in delight.
"Oh my, this familiar chill… could it be that my little Inosuke is coming back?"
He turned to look at Kotoha, who was sewing behind a screen, his smile innocent and bright.
"Kotoha-chan, hurry and get ready. Our child seems to be bringing new friends home. How exciting~"
Kotoha gently set aside her needle.
He's finally coming back…
Did he do well out there? Was he hungry? Did he get thinner? Was he hurt?
Please be safe, Inosuke.
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