"Well, well, if it isn't the lovely Miss Ryukawa! Hello again! You must have been eager to see me. Tell me, did you enjoy the last shipment so much you're already back to place another order?"
Ryukawa Chinatsu felt a slight frown crease her brow.
Across from her, the blond-haired, blue-eyed foreign businessman, a man who called himself Mans, was leaning forward with an exaggerated, salesman's smile plastered on his face.
His Japanese was passable but carried a thick, unfamiliar accent that grated on her ears and his overly expressive gestures felt entirely out of place in the quiet, refined lounge they occupied.
"Mr. Mans, it's a pleasure to see you as well," Chinatsu replied, her tone perfectly level, betraying none of her unease.
She took a slow, deliberate sip of her tea.
"And yes, the materials you sourced for us last time were of exceptional quality. The Moriki Group was very satisfied."
"But of course!" he boomed, laughing a little too loudly.
"Only the best for my favorite clients!"
"Indeed," she said, setting her cup down with a soft click. "However, my reason for meeting you today isn't just about business. I have a few... small questions, unrelated to our usual transactions, that I was hoping you could help me with."
"Oh?" Mans's smile shifted, becoming a touch more curious, a bit more predatory.
"And what sort of trouble could possibly be clouding the mind of the brilliant and beautiful Miss Ryukawa?"
Chinatsu met his gaze directly, her own expression unreadable.
"I'd like to talk about the war. The one that just recently tore the world apart."
For a fleeting second, the practiced smile on the foreigner's face vanished.
A strange, calculating light flickered in his blue eyes before being just as quickly concealed.
He hadn't expected this.
Not from her.
Ryukawa Chinatsu, the young, shrewd tycoon who ran the Moriki Group, had always seemed utterly consumed by commerce and industry, never paying the slightest bit of attention to global politics or the messy affairs of nations.
He had her pegged as a brilliant but insulated workaholic.
This sudden interest was... intriguing.
But then, a wider and more genuine smile spreading across his face, this was even better.
This could be an opportunity.
After all, there were plenty of powerful people across the globe who were growing very, very envious of this isolated island nation and the resources it held.
Perhaps the brilliant Miss Ryukawa was finally ready to play a bigger game.
...
Later that day, the bustling energy of Tokyo felt a world away as Chinatsu knelt on a tatami mat in a silent, hallowed room.
The air was thick with the scent of aged wood and subtle incense.
Outside, a gentle breeze rustled through a meticulously cared-for garden.
"Ubuyashiki-san," she began, her voice low and filled with a frustration she hadn't shown Mr. Mans.
"Based on everything I've managed to gather, the situation is unchanged. Both the cabinet and the highest levels of the military are completely indifferent to the existence of the Demon Slayer Corps. The Ubuyashiki family's name... it no longer holds the weight it once did with these new, ambitious men in power. I'm so sorry. My Moriki Group's influence in those circles is still far too limited to force their hand."
In front of her, lying on a futon, was Kagaya Ubuyashiki, the 97th leader of the Demon Slayer Corps.
A terrible curse had ravaged the upper half of his face and was slowly consuming his body, but his voice, when he spoke, was as calming as a gentle stream.
"Ahem... Chinatsu-san, please, you mustn't say such things," he rasped, the effort of speaking evident.
"The Moriki Group has already given us more help than we could have ever asked for. Every single member of the Corps is indebted to your family's kindness. You carry no obligation to do so much for us, and it is certainly not your burden to bear alone."
As he spoke, the frail man began to push himself up, his wife Amane rushing to support his trembling frame.
He intended to bow to her, a gesture of profound gratitude.
Chinatsu's heart lurched.
"Ubuyashiki-san, no!" She moved forward in a rustle of silk, gently placing her hands on his shoulders to stop him.
"You must rest! Please, your health is what's most important right now. Everything I do for the Corps, I do of my own free will. It was... it was Mitsuyo-sama final wish. As long as I am in charge of the Moriki Group, I will use every resource at my disposal to help you. I swear it."
A steely resolve sharpened her voice, a promise forged in grief and loyalty.
"Cough... Chinatsu-san," Kagaya breathed, his strength failing him.
"The Corps is truly blessed to have a friend like you."
Seeing he couldn't complete the bow, he relented, allowing Amane to gently guide him back down.
She looked at Chinatsu with eyes full of gratitude before carefully tucking the quilt around her husband.
Kagaya's breathing was shallow and ragged, but the gaze he fixed on Chinatsu seemed to pierce through the fog of his illness.
It was a look of profound understanding, as if he saw possibilities and pathways that remained invisible to ordinary people.
The young master, who looked like a flickering candle in the wind, let out a soft sigh.
A faint, resolute smile touched his pale lips.
"As you've said, Chinatsu-san, the leaders of this country no longer see value in what we do. In fact, under the whispers of certain dark influences, I fear they are beginning to see us as a threat—a private militia they can't control. We cannot count on their support. For a thousand years, the Demon Slayer Corps has fought this battle alone in the shadows."
He paused, gathering what little strength he had, the air in the room growing heavy with anticipation.
Even the birdsong from the garden seemed to fall silent.
"Therefore," Kagaya's voice dropped, becoming a near-whisper, yet carrying an unshakable weight that sent a shiver down Chinatsu's spine.
"We can no longer afford to be reactive. We must… take the initiative."
Chinatsu's heart hammered against her ribs.
"Take the initiative? Ubuyashiki-san, what are you suggesting?"
"Muzan Kibutsuji and his demons have gone to ground," Kagaya explained, his gaze drifting towards the ceiling as if he could see straight through it to the night sky where his ancient enemy dwelled.
"They have all the time in the world. We do not. But Muzan has one critical, defining weakness, one that has remained consistent for a millennium." He turned his head slowly, and though his eyes were clouded and nearly blind, they seemed to burn with an intensity that startled Chinatsu.
It was a thrilling, terrifying contrast to his decaying body.
"His arrogance. He is arrogant beyond comprehension. He sees all humans as insects, and he sees the Demon Slayer Corps as the most irritating pests of all. He must have dreamt, countless times, of the day he could personally watch the Ubuyashiki line and the entire Corps be annihilated, to see us crushed in despair."
Chinatsu held her breath, a horrifying premonition beginning to form in her mind.
She stared at the man on the bed, her eyes wide with disbelief.
"So," Kagaya's voice was as soft as falling ash, but each word struck Chinatsu like a thunderclap.
"Let's give him that chance."
"My lord!" Amane cried out softly, her face instantly draining of all color.
Her hand flew to her husband's, gripping it tightly.
She knew exactly what he was implying.
"You mean..." Chinatsu's voice trembled, laced with shock.
"You can't mean… to use yourself as bait?"
"Yes," Kagaya confirmed, his voice eerily calm, as if he were discussing the weather.
"We will leak information. We will let it be known that I am on my deathbed, that the curse has nearly claimed me. And then… we will leak the precise location of the Demon Slayer Corps headquarters."
"That's suicide!" Chinatsu shot to her feet, her composure finally breaking.
"It's far too dangerous! If Muzan believes you're dying and he knows where to find you, he won't just send one of his moons—he'll bring his entire force down on this place! The Corps will face an onslaught unlike anything we've ever seen! And you… you would be at the very center of it!"
The image of that carnage, of this sacred place becoming a bloodbath, was too horrific to contemplate.
"That," Kagaya said, that gentle, unwavering smile still on his face, "is precisely the goal. That is exactly what I want. We let him believe victory is within his grasp. We let him think he can finally eradicate the two things he has hated for centuries—the Ubuyashiki family and the Demon Slayer Corps—in one single, glorious night. He craves absolute victory, a triumph so complete it erases us from history. Only by feeding that colossal arrogance will we have a chance of luring the man himself out of the shadows. He has to appear in person. If he doesn't, we will be doomed to chase his phantom for another hundred years, while countless more innocent people suffer and die."
"No. It's not an option," Chinatsu said firmly, staring down at him.
"The Hashira would never agree to such a plan. None of the slayers would. They would never, ever be willing to risk your life like this!"
Kagaya's smile softened into something melancholic, something filled with a profound and lonely love for the swordsmen he considered his children.
"I know," he replied softly.
"That's why… I haven't told them."
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Please read my new FT fic : Fairy tail : I am Akhnseram