35 Demon Slayer: Floating Comment

The spiky-haired boy hesitated, trembling as he brought his finger to his mouth, chewing slowly.

Yushiro knelt nearby, leaning in far too close, his intense gaze fixed on the boy.

"Delicious, right? It has to be delicious!"

"If you dare say it's not, I'll rip you to shreds!"

After all, that finger belonged to Lady Tamayo.

Genya was too overwhelmed to respond.

His reaction this time was even stronger than the first. His sclera turned pitch black in an instant, eclipsing his irises. Fangs, which had just fallen out days earlier, suddenly re-emerged, piercing his lips. The blood trickling out was hungrily licked up by his now bluish-purple tongue.

Genya's heart felt like it was pounding its way out of his chest. The violent thudding made his chest cavity ache. His mouth hung open involuntarily, drool spilling onto his clothes in an uncontainable stream.

"Hah… hah…"

Tamayo frowned, her delicate brows knitting together.

"It might be because he's still so young—his body isn't strong enough yet. Trying to digest my flesh and blood is too much for him at this stage."

It took a while for Genya to recover. His darkened eyes moved sluggishly as he muttered, "I think... I feel better now."

Too slow.

Haruto sighed inwardly.

That "loading time" in a real fight would've been more than enough for an enemy demon to tear him apart and devour him.

Still, Haruto held back his criticism, not wanting to crush Genya's enthusiasm. Instead, he asked,

"How does it compare to last time?"

"It's incredible!" Genya's face lit up with childish excitement. He felt sharper—his thoughts racing at an overwhelming speed. His trembling muscles urged him to dart around the room, bounding about like an oversized, hyperactive rat.

"Hey! Calm down!" Yushiro snapped, suddenly appearing behind Genya and grabbing the back of his collar. "This isn't a playground!"

"And this…"

Genya closed his eyes, focusing on the new sensations swirling in his mind. He stretched out an arm, slashing his skin open with his razor-sharp claws.

A faint, intoxicating aroma wafted from the wound, filling the room.

"This is…" Tamayo's eyes widened, clearly surprised.

Blood Demon Art: Enchanting Blood - Magical Aroma of Daylight!

It was her ability. A scent from her blood that could dull the senses and lower the cognitive function of its targets, luring them into revealing their most guarded secrets.

Genya's version of Daylight's Aroma couldn't compare to Tamayo's, but even so, it was undeniably potent.

The boy's unique physiology as a Demon Eater was truly remarkable—and for someone not yet ten years old, his talent was staggering. Reproducing her Blood Demon Art from just a single finger? It was nothing short of extraordinary.

Caught off guard by the scent, Haruto felt a dull fog descending over his mind, slowing his thoughts to a crawl.

Yushiro smirked as he observed Haruto's slack expression.

Though it wasn't Tamayo's personal handiwork, Daylight's Aroma was still hazardous. Prolonged exposure could leave a human permanently impaired...

Just as Yushiro's smug thoughts peaked, a soft, white towel landed over Haruto's face. Tamayo knelt beside him, gently lifting his hand to hold the cloth in place.

Yushiro froze, horrified. "L-Lady Tamayo?! Please, let me handle this! I'll take care of Haruto!"

"Just don't smother him to death, Yushiro," Tamayo replied dryly.

"I absolutely won't!"

Once the scent dissipated, Tamayo administered some calming medicine to Haruto and assured him she would thoroughly analyze the vial of his blood he'd left behind.

"Genya's body isn't strong enough yet," she remarked while jotting down notes. "But that's to be expected. He's still so young. As he matures, his body will develop further, and his ability to metabolize demonic flesh will improve. Until then, he shouldn't face demons alone."

"I understand," Haruto replied.

Yushiro glared daggers at him, but Haruto ignored it. "Would it be all right if I wrote to you in the future?"

Tamayo smiled softly as she folded the paper she'd been writing on and handed it to him.

"Of course. We're research partners now, after all."

As they left Tamayo's hidden residence, shielded by Yushiro's Blood Demon Art, Genya seemed unusually quiet.

"What's wrong?" Haruto asked, ruffling the boy's spiky hair.

Haruto couldn't help but feel a pang of regret. According to Ubuyashiki, he needed an apprentice to pass on his Star Breathing technique. Not a mere disciple, but a successor—a Tsuguko.

In the Demon Slayer Corps, many mentors had multiple apprentices. Unlike the trainers who prepared swordsmen for the final selection, a Tsuguko wasn't just a student, they were someone destined to inherit their mentor's entire skill set.

Haruto had hoped Genya would carry on Star Breathing. Even with his unique talents, Haruto knew his own life wasn't infinite. The technique deserved a worthy successor.

But Genya couldn't learn breathing techniques.

Haruto concealed his disappointment, donning the warm smile he'd learned from Sabito—an expression that never failed to reassure children.

"Sensei," Genya began hesitantly, smoothing down his unruly hair. "What... do demons really look like?"

Haruto understood the turmoil in Genya's heart.

Meeting the serene and graceful Tamayo, along with the eccentric Yushiro, had completely upended the boy's perception of demons.

The first demon Genya had ever encountered was his own mother. The trauma of that night still haunted him, leaving scars he didn't know how to heal.

In his heart, he blamed the nameless demon that had turned his mother into a monster.

To him, demons were evil, foul-smelling beasts dripping with blood. Their mere existence brought suffering.

Those were the creatures worth hating—the reason he clung so fiercely to his resolve to slay demons.

But Tamayo wasn't like that. Her elegant aura, her kind demeanor—it didn't make sense.

She was a doctor. A healer who treated human patients by day, yet survived by drinking human blood.

The contradiction was too much for Genya's young mind to process.

Haruto pondered for a moment before resting his hand on Genya's spiky head.

"Are there demons who deserve pity? Of course. Even some of the worst demons, the ones who devour humans every day, probably have tragic backstories."

"But does that give them the right to hurt innocent people?"

"Tamayo is one of a kind. Her strength of will surpasses anyone I've ever known. And her hatred for Muzan Kibutsuji… it's stronger than anyone else's."

"Genya, don't let someone exceptional make you question your beliefs."

Genya looked up at him, nodding slowly.

Back at the residence, Tamayo opened Haruto's parting gift.

It was a pair of aromatic candles, crafted in the shape of elegant white sculptures. Even unlit, they gave off a delicate fragrance of white camellia and ambergris.

They were trendy and refined—exactly the kind of thing a young woman in Tokyo might cherish.

Tucked alongside the candles was a note detailing their name and fragrance profile: The Dream Thief.

Tamayo held one candle up, examining it with a smile.

"A unique person indeed…"

Setting the candle down, she picked up the vial of Haruto's blood, her expression thoughtful.

"Perhaps... a dream thief, after all."