Kinsuko's boots pressed quietly into the damp soil as she wandered near the edge of the forest. She had no mission tonight. Muzan hadn't summoned her. And the silence gnawed at her more than she wanted to admit.
She told herself she was patrolling.
That she wasn't hoping to run into him.
But when Kyoshi stepped out from the mist, carrying a small basket and a soaked coat, her heart still clenched.
"You lost?" she asked flatly.
Kyoshi held up the basket with a grin. "Not unless this is someone else's picnic."
She stared at him. "You brought… a picnic?"
"In demon-infested woods? Absolutely."
"You're insufferable."
"And you're curious. Don't pretend you're not."
She hated how well he could read her.
They sat under a broken shrine roof, with Kyoshi unwrapping small rice balls and dumplings from cloth wraps. Kinsuko didn't eat. She didn't need to. But she sat there anyway, arms crossed, eyes narrowed.
Kyoshi bit into a dumpling and sighed dramatically. "Oh no. This one's awful."
"Good," Kinsuko muttered.
He offered her one anyway.
She stared. "I don't eat food."
"Right. Demon stuff." He paused. "Still. It's rude not to accept hospitality."
"I'm a murderer, not impolite."
Kyoshi grinned. "Small mercies."
She rolled her eyes.
And then… for a second…
She smiled.
Not wide. Not obvious. Just a subtle twitch at the corner of her mouth, barely there. A ghost.
But Kyoshi saw it.
And for once—he didn't say a word about it.
No teasing.
No acknowledgment.
Just quiet respect.
Kinsuko's smile disappeared quickly, buried under years of instinct.
But she noticed that he noticed—and said nothing.
That mattered more than she could explain.
Later, as the storm rolled in harder, Kinsuko rose to leave, but her foot caught on a root and she stumbled slightly. She hissed, ready to tear it from the ground—but froze when Kyoshi gently caught her elbow.
She snapped her arm back. "Don't touch me."
"I wasn't trying to save you," he replied calmly. "You're way too dramatic for that."
She glared—but there was no heat in it.
His eyes softened. "You know, you had a different look just now. When you smiled."
"I didn't."
"You did," he said simply, unwrapping a scarf from around his neck. "And you looked… younger."
Kinsuko blinked.
Kyoshi didn't push. Didn't ask. Just… handed her the scarf.
She stared at it like it was a weapon. "I don't need your pity."
"This isn't pity." His voice lowered. "It's just a scarf. You looked cold. That's it."
"…You're annoying."
"I know."
That night, Kinsuko didn't return to the Infinity Castle right away.
She lingered in the trees, fingers brushing the scarf still clutched in her hand.
She remembered how her mother used to wrap her in warm shawls, humming a lullaby to chase the cold away. Back when she was Kuzan, not Kinsuko. Before Yoriichi. Before blood. Before claws.
She clenched the scarf tighter.
Kyoshi hadn't tried to fix her. Or pity her. Or dig.
He just sat with her.
Brought her food.
Made her feel… like a person again.
And that was far more dangerous than any sword.