Faced with the comical debt-collection scene, Horitake had a hunch but hesitated to confirm. He edged closer, overhearing the crowd's chatter:
"It's Zenitsu, that unlucky kid again."
"Got dumped by another girlfriend?"
"Looks like it. What's this, the fourth, fifth, sixth time? Lost count."
"Dumped's one thing, but spending so much on those girls? He's in deep."
"Yeah, kid's racked up a huge debt."
Horitake's brow twitched. No doubt—it was Zenitsu Agatsuma, his future junior, the Demon Slayer Corps' eventual "Sleep Pillar." His black hair, not yet lightning-bleached, had thrown Horitake off.
With Tanjiro just accepted by Urokodaki, now Zenitsu appeared. Fate's funny hand, Horitake thought. He couldn't ignore his future brother-in-arms, but a stray worry hit: Saving Zenitsu… won't he compete for Nezuko?
A week of racing across Japan to save his "future brother-in-law and wife," boosting their favor—now he'd save a potential rival? Horitake's eyes narrowed. Maybe let him fend for himself.
Kidding. He wouldn't abandon anyone. Besides, Zenitsu's timid nature? Horitake could keep him in check—no way he'd dare vie for Nezuko.
Stepping through the crowd, Horitake stopped the thugs. "Enough, guys. Beat him to death, how's he gonna pay?"
The debt collectors paused, eyeing Horitake warily. Their tempers flared at the interruption, but his confident aura and sheathed blade gave them pause. "What's it to you? Defending this deadbeat? Debts must be paid."
Zenitsu, battered and swollen, latched onto Horitake's leg, sobbing. "Save me, big brother! I'll die! Really die!"
Horitake's vein pulsed. "Kid, get your snot off my leg, or I'll kill you first."
Zenitsu, trembling, wiped his face with his sleeve, still clinging. Horitake patted his head like a ball, addressing the thugs. "Debts are debts, sure. This kid's weak but sturdy—I'll take him as a servant."
The leader raised an eyebrow. "You're paying his debt?"
"Yup. Send the bill to Jigoro Kuwajima on Peach Mountain. You know him? Famous swordsman, good reputation."
"We've heard of Master Jigoro. But you are…?"
"His head disciple. Don't worry, we won't skip town."
The thugs conferred, then nodded. "Alright, we trust you and Jigoro. We'll let the kid go and visit Peach Mountain later."
"Deal!" Horitake grinned.
They left. Horitake had casually saddled Jigoro with Zenitsu's debt, unworried—Jigoro covered it in the original story, so he'd manage now. What a way to stick it to the old man.
Zenitsu, still clinging, wailed. "Aniki, you're my savior! Thank you!"
"Off! Control your tears!" Horitake snapped. "You heard me—I paid your debt, so your life's mine. You're Peach Mountain's servant now. All the grunt work's yours."
"What?!" Zenitsu gaped.
"What 'what'? I pay, you work. Fair trade."
"What work?" Zenitsu whimpered.
"A servant picking jobs? Laundry, cooking, chopping wood, lighting fires, scrubbing toilets—got complaints?"
Zenitsu, cowed by Horitake's menacing aura, shrank. Out of the wolf's den, into the tiger's lair. Shivering, he trailed Horitake up Peach Mountain, dreading his fate.
Carrying two sake bottles, Horitake, with Zenitsu in tow, knocked on Jigoro's door. Jigoro flung it open, fuming. "Brat! A week gone, and you dare return?"
Horitake stayed calm. "Old man, I'm back. Just a few days late—why the tantrum? I was handling big stuff. My future brother-in-law and wife had a crisis; I had to settle them."
Jigoro, about to explode, spotted Zenitsu cowering behind. "Is he your brother-in-law?"
"What?" Horitake glanced back, smacking his forehead. "No, old man, misunderstanding!"
"Then who's he?"
Grinning, Horitake said, "Some unlucky kid I found in town. Brought him to be our servant—all the mountain's chores are his. But if you like him, maybe take him as a disciple."
"Servant? Explain!" Jigoro demanded.
Horitake outlined Zenitsu's debt. Jigoro roared, "You dumped his debt on me without knowing how much?!"
"Relax, old man. You've got savings. You'll cover it."
"And if I can't?"
"Easy—toss the kid back down the mountain to fend for himself."
Zenitsu's jaw dropped, horrified.