Once Haganezuka had happily taken his sauce-glazed dango and left, Aoi finally let out a long breath of relief. She turned around and saw Shuya standing by the table like nothing had happened, casually tapping each piece of ore like he was checking watermelons at the market.
That relaxed attitude made her blood boil. She shot him a fierce glare.
This was all his fault. If he hadn't done whatever he did with Kanao earlier, she wouldn't have been so on edge and made such a stupid mistake.
Shuya didn't notice her glare. Even if he had, he probably wouldn't have cared. He simply poured Nen into each chunk of ore one by one, activating his Manipulation ability. The pure metal inside the rocks flowed like liquid toward his palm, gathering into a single basketball-sized metal sphere.
Honestly, the scarlet iron sand used for Nichirin Blades wasn't that hard. It couldn't even compare to the modern rebar Saya was currently infusing with Nen. Inosuke had literally smashed saw-like teeth into his blades using random rocks on the side of the road. That alone said enough about its durability.
Still, the ore had one useful trait besides its anti-demon properties. Nichirin Blades were also called "color-changing blades." Once a swordsman reached a certain level with their Breathing Style, the blade would shift color based on their technique and talent. Shuya planned to use that trait to test how well Nezuko and the others had mastered their Breathing Styles before deciding whether to contract them.
He opened the Crossing Gate and tossed the metal sphere inside without much thought. Then he picked up the hand-forged Nichirin Blade from the floor, released In, and let his Sun Breathing aura flow freely.
The blade gradually turned a deep red, like a cooked lobster.
If Haganezuka had still been here, he probably would've been shocked. After all, the only reason he personally delivered Tanjiro's sword in the original story was because he believed Tanjiro had the rare talent to turn a blade red.
Shuya reshaped the blade with his ability again while keeping his aura hidden. Unfortunately, once he finished, the metal stayed red instead of returning to its original silver color. That meant he couldn't reuse the same material for testing purposes.
Bored, he tossed the finished blade into the Crossing Gate as well and closed it. He dusted off his hands and finally turned to look at Aoi.
On the other side of the gate, the two Snowball Beasts had just been hit by the falling metal sphere. They puffed up their cheeks in pure rage.
"Meow?!" "Meow!!"
Back in the guest room, Aoi's anger slowly faded the moment Shuya looked at her. It wasn't because of his handsome face. It was because she had just realized they were now completely alone.
What should she do?
She was starting to sweat.
Shuya tilted his head. "You seem a little nervous."
Aoi's voice came out stiff. "N-no, I'm not."
That was a lie. She was so tense she felt like she might actually wet herself.
Shuya stepped closer and reached toward her face. Aoi's breath caught. Was he going to grab her? Her heart pounded with a messy mix of fear and something dangerously close to anticipation. She squeezed her eyes shut.
The next second, she felt a handkerchief gently wipe the cold sweat from her forehead.
Shuya was just trying to help.
But the moment the cloth touched her skin, Aoi's whole body jerked. Something inside her nearly slipped out. Her eyes flew open in panic.
"I—I have something to do! I need to go!"
She tried to turn and run, but Shuya caught her by the arm and pulled her back. He still needed her to pass a message to Kagaya about collecting all the Nichirin ore after Muzan was dead. He had also noticed how strangely distant she'd been acting toward him.
The sudden pull sent Aoi stumbling straight into his chest.
The moment her body pressed against his, the combination of extreme nervousness and sudden close contact with a man became too much. Aoi's mind went completely blank as a warm sensation spread between her legs.
Shuya felt it too.
Aoi had just proven, in the most humiliating way possible, that the three little girls hadn't been lying when they said she still wet the bed.