Demon Slayer: Breath of Desire

Perhaps it was the pull of fate at work, but the fact remained that Nezuko had grown enormously fond of Mitsuri, and Mitsuri didn’t want to let her go either.

By the time they returned to the inn, the little girl had already moved from Marcus’s shoulder into Mitsuri’s arms.

It was like a human pyramid: Marcus carried Mitsuri, and she held Nezuko. The scene was so bizarre that it stole the servants’ glances, though the three of them couldn’t have cared less.

Since Marcus had only just arrived, he hadn’t been assigned a room yet, and there was no dining hall available, so Mitsuri, blushing, led him to her own bedroom.

Even though it was an ordinary room, she couldn’t help feeling self-conscious. Her eyes swept over every corner, afraid something might be out of place.

She didn’t know why, but with Sanemi, Tokito, or Obanai she could talk naturally anywhere—yet Marcus’s mere presence made her heart race.

"Ma... Marcus-kun, can you... put me down now...?"

Without refusing this time, Marcus crouched down gently onto the tatami.

As he settled, Nezuko ended up sprawled full-length across Mitsuri’s chest, burying her face into the softest part of it without the slightest shyness.

That gesture made Mitsuri blush, and that glimpse of bare skin made Marcus blush too. Even though he’d seen her a little earlier, that half-covered sight was still very erotic.

"Toc! Toc!"

The knocking at the door made Marcus immediately step in between to give her privacy.

While she moved the giggling Nezuko into her lap and straightened her clothes, he gave permission to enter.

The servants filed in, bringing a steady parade of delicacies.

In the blink of an eye, the low table was covered with sushi, sashimi, tempura, and more.

Knowing Mitsuri’s appetite, they even left a servant stationed outside to restock the plates.

Mitsuri’s eyes lit up when they landed on the salmon. She licked her lips, but kept sitting upright and proper, hands on her knees. Marcus settled in across from her, poured the drinks, slid one over to her, and took the other.

Mitsuri whispered a thank-you, unable to take her eyes off the table.

Her fingertips tapped restlessly against her legs—not out of nervousness, but out of sheer impatience to eat.

"Go ahead, eat," he told her.

Mitsuri’s expression came alive and she reached her chopsticks toward the salmon, but stopped short. She glanced shyly at Marcus, who made no move to serve himself anything.

"Marcus-kun... aren’t you going to eat?"

"Me?"

"Um... well...," she gripped her chopsticks as her voice dropped, "do you... need to eat?"

He thought it over for a second and smiled.

Instead of answering, he tipped his chin toward a piece of sushi.

Mitsuri stared at the sushi for two seconds, then looked up at Marcus, puzzled.

As if to ask: Are you telling me to eat it? Or do you want to eat it yourself?

Faced with Marcus’s silence, Mitsuri reached out and picked up the piece with her fingertips, lifting it as if to test it.

Before she knew what to do next, Marcus leaned forward.

Without any ceremony, he bit the sushi straight from her fingers, grazing them. He chewed unhurriedly and swallowed, under Mitsuri’s stunned gaze, her eyes as wide as they could possibly go.

She looked down at her fingertips.

A faint smear of soy sauce still lingered, but the spot where she’d felt Marcus’s lips burned softly, as if a spark had brushed against it.

Her face flushed instantly.

Nezuko, sitting on her lap, tilted her head curiously.

"Onee-chan, your face is really red."

"N-No... not at all..." Mitsuri stammered, covering her face with her hands as her voice came out muffled between her fingers, "i-it’s the heat... yeah, it’s really hot..."

Marcus chuckled. "You saw it yourself... Of course I can eat. Enjoying delicious food is very important to me. I can eat, and I like to eat."

With that, he picked up a piece of sushi and offered it to her by hand.

Mitsuri peeked out from between her fingers and felt her chest flutter.

In her entire life, aside from her father, no other man had ever fed her like this.

’How embarrassing!’

But...

’It feels so nice...’

She shyly uncovered her face and leaned in to bite the sushi. Unlike him, she was much more careful and avoided grazing his fingers, though her heart was pounding wildly.

Could this be... what it felt like to be in love?

From that moment on, Marcus set about feeding her with complete naturalness, without forcing any courtesy.

He saved the juiciest part of the fish for her, arranged the crispiest shrimp tempura at the edge of her bowl, and shelled the clams to have them ready on her plate.

He didn’t even give her time to finish one bite before he was placing two pieces of sashimi in her bowl.

He fed her until the young woman’s cheeks were puffed full and her eyes were shining with delight.

Still, between bites, she watched him on the sly.

She was waiting. Waiting for Marcus to show that expression—"how can you eat so much?"

She knew that look all too well.

The look from her relatives in childhood, from strangers in restaurants, or from her suitor on that failed blind date.

But she waited in vain.

Because Marcus only busied himself shelling shellfish, serving dishes, and watching her eat with kindness.

When the mountain of empty plates began piling up to one side, Mitsuri couldn’t take it anymore.

She set down her chopsticks, clenched the fabric of her skirt over her knees, and murmured with her eyes lowered:

"Marcus-kun..."

"Yes?"

"Don’t you think... I eat too much?"

"Not at all," he answered immediately, without breaking the rhythm of shelling the next clam. "Eating well is a blessing."

Mitsuri looked up timidly, watching him.

"Besides, you look so cute enjoying your food that it even makes me hungry just watching you."

Marcus conveniently held out the next bite in front of her lips.

"I wish I could eat with you every day."

Mitsuri suddenly felt a pang in her chest and tears welled up in her eyes, and this time she didn’t hesitate: she opened her mouth and took the piece in a single bite.

"Mitsuri! Quick, look at this! What the hell is wrong with this idiot?!"

An ear-splitting shout shattered the peace of the room.

Clang!

The sliding door flew open and Sanemi burst in, his face twisted, dragging along an Obanai who was as limp as a walking corpse...

Time froze in that instant.

Obanai, whose gaze was already dull, took in the scene: Mitsuri, her face full of happiness, gently taking Marcus’s hand with her mouth to eat from it.

In that precise second, it seemed the life truly drained out of him.

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Throw your stones, drop them ALL! 💎

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