Demon Slayer: My Eyes Can See Floating Comments

The village of Hirano, located in Chiba Prefecture southeast of Tokyo, was known for its fishing industry.

When Haruto arrived, the atmosphere was far from what he had imagined.

Instead of a town gripped by fear and despair, Hirano was lively, bustling with activity. The streets were lined with hot spring inns and seafood vendors, and both residents and tourists moved about cheerfully. Fishermen carried their gear as they set off for the sea, chatting with an ease that seemed entirely normal.

"Fishermen going missing?" The owner of a hot spring inn raised an eyebrow when Haruto explained his purpose.

"Missing? Nah, they just ran off with those low-class geishas," said an old woman sitting nearby, snorting disdainfully.

"Leaving their newborn children behind, along with wives who just gave birth! Running off to Tokyo to chase some dream. Pathetic."

"Ran off?" Haruto echoed.

"Yeah, there was a festival not too long ago," the innkeeper explained. "A lot of geishas from Tokyo came down for it—happens every year. But this time, there were more than usual."

The old woman shook her head. "Men. They can't resist, can they? A few sweet words, and they're emptying their pockets, leaving their families behind to chase pipe dreams in the city. Hmph, calling them men is an insult!"

"Take Masai Yuuki, for example," she continued. "Always acting so devoted to Saori, and yet he vanished without a trace."

"Hm..." Haruto tapped his chin, thoughtful. Could this have something to do with the festival? Or was the timing merely a coincidence?

"By the way, have any swordsmen dressed like me come through here recently?"

The innkeeper gave him a once-over. "We get wandering swordsmen now and then, but none as well-dressed as you."

"I see. Thank you."

After getting directions to the Masai residence from the old woman, Haruto cast one last, wistful glance at the fresh sea bream and lobsters displayed in the inn's showcase. He wiped the corner of his mouth.

Focus on the task first, he told himself. Catch this demon—then come back to celebrate with a feast.

When Haruto arrived at the Masai house, no one was home. A neighbor informed him that Saori had gone fishing early that morning, as she had every day for a while now.

"She just had a baby, didn't she?" Haruto frowned.

"Yeah, but what can she do?" The neighbor sighed. "Her husband ran off, and there's not much food in the house. If she doesn't fish, she can't even feed herself. She's stubborn, though—won't accept help from us. Says she'll manage somehow. Are you a relative of hers? You look like you're from the city."

Haruto deflected the question politely, but his mood grew heavier.

The salty, damp breeze stung as he picked up his pace. A woman who'd just given birth shouldn't be out in such conditions—it could ruin her health.

He finally found Saori among the returning fishermen.

She was young, with a pale, exhausted face framed by a makeshift headscarf. A woven basket hung from her back, and a cloth sling at her chest held a frail, crying infant. Her worn-out sandals left her feet and calves swollen and blistered from prolonged exposure to the seawater.

Her basket was barely filled with a thin layer of shellfish, but it was clear that gathering even this much had drained her completely.

She trudged past Haruto, ignoring the sympathetic stares of those around her, her fists clenched tightly in defiance.

When she entered her house, it was just as cold and empty as Haruto had imagined. She set the basket in a corner and carefully lifted the baby from her sling.

"Rika," she murmured. The baby girl whimpered weakly, licking at her mother's tear-streaked cheek in hunger. But Saori had little to give, she hadn't eaten properly in days.

A knock at the door startled her. Standing there was a young man with striking white hair, a sword at his hip and a basket slung over his back.

"Sorry to intrude," Haruto said, lowering his gaze out of courtesy.

Saori froze, her face twisting in fear. "You've found us…? All the way from Asakusa to Hirano?" She began to panic, throwing anything she could grab at Haruto.

"Wait! I'm not from Asakusa!" Haruto dodged the projectiles with ease, holding up a small parcel. "I brought food. If you won't take it, at least let your child have some."

At the mention of her child, Saori hesitated, eyeing Haruto with mistrust.

"I don't need your pity," she spat through clenched teeth.

Stubborn, isn't she? Haruto thought. Even if she were thrown into a forge, her spirit would come out unbroken.

"This isn't pity," he replied calmly. "It's a trade. I want to know about your husband's disappearance. In exchange, I'll leave you the food—this includes baby formula for your child. Adults can endure hunger, but children can't."

Saori glanced at her daughter, then back at Haruto. After a tense pause, she relented. "Come in."

Haruto entered but left the door ajar to avoid any misunderstandings. He set the food on the table—a mix of baby formula, freshly cooked meals, and snacks—and sat at a respectful distance, pulling out his own bento box.

The aroma of grilled eel wafted through the room. The golden, buttery glaze glistened over perfectly cooked slices resting atop sweet potato rice. Haruto ate with relish, the subtle richness of the eel melting in his mouth.

Saori's throat moved as she swallowed hard. She prepared the formula for Rika first, carefully spooning it into the baby's mouth before picking up her own meal.

Even in her hunger, she ate with poise, covering her mouth delicately. Watching her, Haruto's thoughts raced.

Perhaps it's not that the geishas ensnared the fishermen... but that the fishermen captured the geishas' hearts.

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