Demon Slayer: Breath of Desire

Daki’s eyes twitched as she stared at the crumpled "slavery contract," and then at the smiling man in front of her.

A surge of murderous intent welled up in her chest, on the verge of spilling over.

Four hundred years... She had lived four hundred years.

No one... NO ONE had ever dared to mock her like this.

Much less put a piece of paper in front of her, asking her with a smile to sign her own humiliation.

"What’s wrong?" Marcus tilted his head, and his smile widened. "Don’t you want to sign?"

Daki’s fingers dug into her palms.

Her nails pierced the skin, letting trickles of blood seep out.

She inhaled deeply.

And inhaled deeply once more.

... The mission.

It was a mission from Muzan-sama.

Get close to him... control him...

It’s just a simple bill of sale!

Swish

A ball of paper suddenly flew out of Marcus’s hand, hitting the curtains by the window.

The curtains flew open, leaving a gap.

The midday light came through the gap like a golden slash and hit Daki square in the face.

"KYAA!!"

Screaming in agony, Daki recoiled violently, knocking over the folding screen behind her.

Smoke was rising from half of her face. Red blotches broke out across her skin, not quite burning all the way through, but enough to sting like a thousand wasps.

Covering half of her face, she stared at Marcus, her eyes spitting fire.

Yet he remained seated, his smile intact.

"You’re nothing but some run-of-the-mill demon," he said offhandedly. "Taking you in instead of cutting you in two is already more charity than you deserve."

He paused.

"You didn’t think you could negotiate with me, did you?"

Daki’s breathing grew heavy.

Her black hair, which was styled in an elaborate fashion, began to subtly change color.

Starting from the roots, little by little it turned white.

The prelude. She was about to slip the leash.

She stared at Marcus, at his contemptuous look...

And then she stopped.

’...Hold on.’

’Run-of-the-mill demon?’

’Did he just call me... a run-of-the-mill demon?’

Her brain kicked into overdrive.

That he could tell she was a demon wasn’t strange.

But her power?

Power couldn’t be determined just by looking at her.

He could only tell she was a demon, but not that she was the Sixth Upper Moon!

This idiot didn’t have a clue.

To him, she was a second-rate demon. A frightened cockroach hiding among courtesans.

’...Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid.’

’Does he really think I’m some disposable piece of trash you can just step on and be done with?’

Something strange glinted deep in her eyes.

Although... well...

If that was the impression he had...

She took a deep breath.

The white hair gradually faded, returning to black.

She lifted her head, switching her face to an expression of exaggerated terror.

"H-How... how did you know?!"

Even her voice trembled, in a performance so over-the-top it looked like a stage play.

"A-And after I’d hidden myself so well...!"

"..."

Marcus stared at that face practically screaming out loud: "I’M REALLY SCARED, PLEASE BELIEVE ME."

... This acting is terrible, isn’t it?

But...

Narrowing his eyes, a conjecture began to take shape in his mind.

The fact that Daki had held out this long without turning the room into a battlefield was, technically, a miracle.

And miracles don’t exist.

Unless he was dumb enough to believe that Daki had fallen madly in love the moment she saw him walk in, struck down by his manly good looks... no, no, ruled out, he didn’t have that big an ego.

So, there was only one possibility...

Muzan had given her instructions.

She had a mission. And that mission, with 99% certainty, revolved around him.

Fine.

If she wanted to play, they’d play.

"It’s the difference in power."

His voice was already indifferent now, with a touch of condescending arrogance.

"In front of me, you’re basically naked. You don’t have a single secret you can hide from me."

Daki’s face turned slightly red.

Not out of shyness.

But because... she wanted to break his jaw. Why the hell did this guy have a gift for making comments that were begging for a punch in the mouth?!

But she kept up the act.

"A-Ahh~ h-how... how is that possible?!"

She dropped to the floor dramatically, one hand clutching her chest and her eyes screaming "I’m about to faint from fright."

"S-So... even so... you’re still willing to take me in?"

Marcus arched an eyebrow.

"Didn’t you see the demonesses around me?"

A pause.

"Ah, right. Someone with your level of observation probably didn’t."

"..."

Hang in there....

Daki counted to ten inside and kept up the act.

"... c-can I too..?"

Marcus nodded.

"As long as you don’t commit crimes right under my nose and don’t eat the clients, I can turn a blind eye. In fact... I can even offer you protection."

!

Daki’s eyes lit up.

And it wasn’t an act. This time they truly sparkled.

Protection?

A Hashira had just offered protection to a demon?

This man was far more interesting than Muzan-sama had told her.

"Y-Yes! I accept!"

She sprang to her feet and approached the table with an enthusiasm she completely forgot to hide, grabbed the brush, and signed her name.

Then she looked up at Marcus. And fixed him with eyes brimming with gratitude and admiration.

"From now on~... this humble woman belongs to you~"

Without wasting a second, she circled around the table.

And like a seductive serpent, she coiled herself around Marcus.

She wrapped her arms over his shoulders, pressed her body against his chest, and brought those full lips close to his ear.

"You can do whatever you want with me~"

And faced with such an invitation, with four centuries of beauty pressed against his body, Marcus...

Frowned.

Deeply.

...

Mind you. He didn’t frown because she was on top of him.

On the contrary. The fact that Daki threw herself at him like this, of her own initiative, bumped his ego up several notches all at once. The feeling of having a beauty voluntarily wrapping herself around him, combined with the fact that the system was notifying him of the analysis’s progress, was a double win: happy body, happy soul.

But...

That smell had come back.

Gyūtarō’s smell.

Even though it was very faint, the moment she got close to him, that penetrating man-stench shoved its way up his nose like a kick to the stomach.

"Get off."

Speaking coldly, he swung his arm sharply.

BAM!

Daki’s delicate body went flying to one side.

It crashed through the sliding door and fell heavily into the hallway.

"Cough... cough!"

She lay there facedown, coughing, her kimono in disarray and her hairstyle wrecked.

Her face reflected her utter bewilderment, astonishment, and what the hell just happened in equal parts.

Why... why?

She lifted her head, about to blow up.

Then she froze.

There were people in the hallway.

Two young girls dressed as maids, rags in hand, frozen halfway through their cleaning. And beside them, two courtesans in their finest attire with freshly applied makeup, who had evidently come to pay their "respects" to the new owner.

Four people, eight eyes, all staring at her.

Mouths agape.

"..."

Daki’s face turned red as a burning ember.

Centuries! It had been centuries since she’d suffered embarrassment of this magnitude in front of so many people!

A rage flavored with humiliation rose from her stomach up to her throat.

Damn bastard! How dare he?! HOW DARE HE TREAT ME LIKE THIS?!

To hell with the mission! To hell with getting close to him! I’m going to gut him RIGHT N—!

"I don’t like it when men touch me."

Marcus’s bored voice came from inside the room.

"...Huh?"

Daki was baffled.

Men?

What man?

She looked at herself. Woman.

She looked around. Four women.

Where the heck is the m—?

Oh.

Oh.

Man.

He meant her brother.

Gyūtarō. The one who lived hidden inside her.

Could he sense it? Could he sense his presence?

Of course!

Muzan-sama had told her. Marcus’s Breathing was called the Breath of Desire.

Desire!

The charms of women!

In other words, his Breathing style sharpened his perception toward women to ridiculous levels. That was why he could tell that the energy inside Daki wasn’t... pure.

The burning fury she’d had three seconds ago went out like a match in the rain.

’Ahhh... so that was it.’

That was why he’d always looked at her with contempt.

Not because she wasn’t beautiful enough.

Not because she lacked charm.

NOT because he didn’t like her!

But because she smelled like Gyūtarō. And as if by magic, Daki’s self-esteem rose from the ashes like a phoenix with ego issues.

In other words... if her brother weren’t in the equation... she’d have him eating out of the palm of her hand right now!

She took a deep breath and slowly got to her feet.

She dusted herself off. She straightened her kimono. She rebuilt her hairstyle with a couple of touches.

And finally, she shot the four spectators a sharp look.

"What are you all staring at?"

The four of them trembled from head to toe.

"Don’t you have things to do?"

The four of them scrambled off, tripping over themselves.

The hallway fell silent again.

Daki turned around and looked at Marcus inside.

Marcus was still sitting there, cup in hand, not deigning to look at her. As if the disaster in the hallway didn’t exist. As if she... didn’t exist.

Daki contemplated him for a few long seconds.

Then she turned around and went down the stairs without looking back.

__________

Throw your stones, drop them ALL! 💎

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