The moon had long since climbed above the rooftops by the time Koumi returned.
Her journey through the capital had left a fine layer of dust clinging to the hem of her kimono, while the faint scent of iron and rain lingered stubbornly around her despite her best efforts to wash away the evidence of battle at a nearby stream. She had already changed from her uniform, left it at a wisteria house before going back, tonight's mission had been successful—a nest of demons quietly eliminated before another family could disappear into the night.
It should have felt like a victory.
Instead, only exhaustion settled heavily upon her shoulders.
Sliding the door open with practiced care, Koumi stepped into the quiet home, closing it behind her with barely a sound. The familiar warmth within was a welcome contrast to the chill outside. She slipped off her sandals, neatly aligning them by the entrance before loosening Beneath the fabric of her kimono, a shallow cut stretched across her side, hidden beneath layers of bandages already beginning to bloom crimson once more.
`im home...` she calls out softly. `how was work dear?`
@koumiharuyama 「koumi to muzan」
Muzan does not remember for how long he’s been back home. At this point, to have a sense of time is the least of his concerns, very much concentrated on his own duties and demons, especially infuriated at them. “absolutely worthless.” he thought, tapping his heel on the floor multiple times as a subtle hint of his ongoing distress.
He does not care enough to keep an eye on every single human who was once transformed. They might as well die all by themselves, like the useless things they are. Nonetheless, he still wishes for atleast one of them to be decent, and yet they never are. They all eventually perish, even in groups. The only reason for it to not be a disappointment, is because there’s no hope in the first place.
A single click coming from the entrance is enough to snap him out of his inattentive state, saving him from eventually being fully possessed by his own frustrations and fury. He knows really well who it is.
As if the past few minutes (or hours) never existed, the only man Koumi sees once she’s home is Kiyoshi. The person full of hatred vanished in a matter of seconds, replaced by a calm demeanor of a loving husband.
He walks up to her, smiling gently.
“ A little stressful, as always. Although you look quite stressed yourself. ”