Chapter 15: The Quiet Corner of Midnight

After completing her transformation, the great demon no longer needed to enter deep sleep every day; most of the time, she merely closed her eyes to rest lightly—a common doze. Even while dozing, she maintained keen awareness of her surroundings, her demonic energy forming an invisible aura to perceive everything around her.

Nightfall was supposed to be a time of profound silence.

Inside the room, the pale blue beast-like eyes opened, clear and bright. Hana, lying beside Sesshōmaru, sat up. The fire pit at the center of the tatami mat crackled softly—the sound of burning wood.

In the stillness of the night, a strange low moan suddenly echoed, fleeting yet unmistakable.

Was it just a trick of the mind?

Soon enough, the murmuring returned, this time unmistakably a scream. She was certain she had not misheard.

Curious, she lifted her head and glanced out the window.

Snowflakes drifted silently through the air; no moonlight illuminated the thick blanket of snow covering the ground outside.

Sesshōmaru, who should have been alert, remained asleep. Just having ended his transformation, his demonic energy was still unstable and unevenly absorbed, requiring deep sleep to fully stabilize.

The intermittent cries, interspersed with painful groans, seemed deliberately suppressed, as if someone was struggling to contain their agony.

No unfamiliar demonic energy or scent was detected in the air, but the muffled sounds persisted, faint and broken—a painful wail hidden behind a protective barrier, rendering it difficult to discern clearly.

Could someone be in danger? Hana was uncertain. She sniffed the cold air, detecting a strange scent mingled with the crispness of the snow.

As a trustworthy serpent who had promised the village chief to watch over the settlement, Hana took the matter seriously.

She crept to the window and peered outside.

The fluffy tail draped over her serpent scales slipped off. The cold air quickly chilled her exposed scales, so naturally, the tip of her tail curled to clasp the fluffy tail, wrapping herself warmly.

After a moment at the window, she caught the sounds more distinctly—there were indeed voices outside.

Murmurs and cries, their meaning unclear.

Without hesitation, dragging her reluctant tail behind, Hana rose and pushed open the door.

A blast of icy wind struck her, making her whole body shiver.

In the dead of night, when all should be silent, even the faintest sounds were magnified infinitely.

The biting wind and snow chilled Hana to the bone. She longed to revert to her fox form, at least then she would have fur to shield her from the cold—far better than cold serpent scales.

Impatiently flicking the tip of her tail, she left a trail of scratches in the snow.

Snakes truly despised winter. She was determined to find out which fool dared trespass into the village she protected at such a late hour.

Out in the snow, she grew visibly irritable, tail flicking faster with each step.

Beyond the protective barrier, the voices became clearer—intermittent yet rhythmic.

A rise and fall, a cadence with a distinct pattern.

Two calls from the left, three from the right.

It sounded like a challenge.

Frozen amid the swirling snow, the serpent listened carefully and was stunned.

Her expression shifted from confusion to shock, then to disbelief.

Trembling, she raised a hand, unsure where to point, her entire being overwhelmed by a chaotic numbness.

Hana: What the hell?!

What was going on?!

The voices surged and receded, a continuous mixture of a woman’s soft moans and a man’s rough shouts. Even without having seen a running pig, she had eaten pork—Hana was thoroughly flustered.

Realizing what it was, a blush spread swiftly from her neck to her face. Her tail coiled tightly, hesitating to speak.

As the saying goes, spring heralds rebirth and the breeding season for animals.

But!

It was clearly winter now!

Such nighttime activity was excessive!

Those involved were obviously engaged in making babies; to an outsider unaware, it might even sound like domestic violence. Were they competing to see who could be louder? Irritated, Hana flicked her tail, unwilling to stay another second. Even the serpent herself was embarrassed to listen any longer.

Turning stiffly to leave, she prepared to pretend she had never been there.

Then, she glanced back.

Standing at the doorway was the lone great demon—Sesshōmaru—in his white robes, his presence startling her.

“Sesshōmaru?” Her voice faltered.

He should have been asleep, yet here he was behind her, his handsome features serene and aloof.

Snow blurred his face, but the voices outside pulled her back to reality.

Gasping inwardly, she wondered why Sesshōmaru was here.

It struck her that he must have heard everything long ago. After all, the white dog’s hearing was far keener than hers. He undoubtedly heard more clearly, perhaps in full 360-degree surround sound.

For a moment, she was at a loss for words.

She couldn't very well say, “Let’s go back to sleep.”

Who knew if Sesshōmaru might misunderstand “sleep” as something else?

And earlier, during the day, she had even made purple sauce for him...

Still stunned, Hana turned her head stiffly, her gaze settling on Sesshōmaru’s cold, composed face.

Her eyes betrayed a desire to look lower—after all... surely he wouldn’t react, right? she wondered uncertainly.

Following the principle of “if they don’t move, neither do I,” Hana remained silent.

This scene resembled nothing so much as her sneaking out in the middle of the night to eavesdrop.

The fluffy tail draped over her waist; the serpent tail shyly curled toward it, disregarding her own dignity to entwine itself.

She, a dignified serpent demon.

Sesshōmaru, a dignified dog demon.

On a wild, snowy night, standing at the cabin’s doorway amidst human voices rising and falling.

Was this what it meant to be caught eavesdropping?

Ridiculous! Was she shameless?!

Her tail knocked against the ground. Opening her mouth, she searched for a way to explain—it was all a misunderstanding. She absolutely did not have a habit of sneaking out at night to listen at corners.

“Well, Sesshōmaru, actually I thought...” she began.

Sesshōmaru’s expression remained unchanged. He lowered his head, his pure white, slender eyelashes hiding the color of his eyes. His hands folded calmly beneath his hunting robe. When he raised his head again, his expression was indifferent, utterly unaffected by the murmurs.

So calm, it felt out of place.

Hana’s urge to explain vanished inexplicably. Another thought surfaced: perhaps Sesshōmaru was simply indifferent to such matters.

That cold, detached look.

Forgive her bluntness, but she felt that aside from “indifferent,” no other phrase explained how someone could remain unaffected amid such a raucous environment—not even stirred to embarrassment. Such a person must be a deity, or perhaps a divine demon.

“Later,” Sesshōmaru said, his lips barely moving, his voice calm.

Hana, still suspecting his indifference, instinctively looked up and blinked at him.

What?

Later?

Before she could grasp his meaning, Sesshōmaru lifted a hand, placing his palm gently atop her head.

“Go back,” he said evenly.

With that, he turned and walked back inside. The cold wind lifted his pristine white sleeves; the plum blossom patterns on his robe remained striking.

Hana watched his retreating figure, the words echoing in her mind.

“Later.”

“Later?”

Wait—

For some inexplicable reason, those words, combined with the current scene, made her feel she understood what Sesshōmaru meant.

Hold on, could “later” mean... that?

Her face twisted in an instant, breath caught, nearly choking.

So Sesshōmaru thought she wanted it, and that’s why she had come out in the middle of the night to eavesdrop or blow in the snow? To cool down?

Her demonic dignity was shattered. Flustered beyond words, Hana wanted to rush over, grab Sesshōmaru’s shoulder, and shake him hard while lecturing him: women do not need physical cooling! Female demons neither!

Lost in thought, she stared at Sesshōmaru’s back as he reached the cabin doorway, then suddenly turned.

Though some distance separated them and the wind scattered snow between, she could still clearly see his exquisitely delicate face.

Sesshōmaru said nothing, but Hana felt he was waiting for her.

Her tail moved before her mind could catch up, sliding swiftly forward, leaving a deep trail in the snow.

Back inside, a wave of warmth greeted her. The snow on her scales melted instantly, dripping through the gaps onto the floor, where she dried it with her demonic power.

Looking up again, Sesshōmaru had already reclined on the fluffy tail, eyes closed, seemingly resting.

Recalling the earlier misunderstanding, Hana decided she needed to clear her name. She hurried to Sesshōmaru’s side, serious and earnest.

“I thought something demonic might have infiltrated the village, so I came out to check.”

Not to eavesdrop!!!

Upon hearing her voice, Sesshōmaru opened his eyes.

Their gazes met calmly. His eyes fell on her snow-dusted hair. Raising a finger, he gently swept it through, his warm touch making her shiver.

He replied softly, “Hmm.”

Faced with his composed demeanor, flustered Hana felt a bit unreasonable.

Taking a deep breath, she coiled her tail, then covered herself again with Sesshōmaru’s fluffy tail, preparing to sleep.

Before closing her eyes, she insisted once more, “I really wasn’t thinking anything!”

“...”

“Really!”

“...Hmm.”

Hana: Damn it, the more I say it, the more it sounds like I’m trying to hide something.