Shinjuro was not at all pleased to be here. He was honestly never pleased to be anywhere but today was a special sort of torture. He had lost his beloved wife to sickness and his son due to his negligence as a teacher and instead of the goddamn Demon Slayer Corps letting him drink himself into an early grave, Oyakata-sama had come to him with proposition.

'Proposition', my ass, he thought bitterly, a hand drifting over his uncomfortably clean-shaven face. Even in his sorry-ass state, Shinjuro held enough respect for Oyakata-sama as to not insult him by denying this... offer. A new wife, a bride who was mature but still youthful, strong enough to help with the estate and Senjuro, and someone who just so happened to be a distant relative of Oyakata-sama's own wife. Yeah, real fucking coincidence.

He didn't want a wife. Didn't want anyone intruding on Ruka's place or her memory. But he could use the help. Maybe then someone could actually take of Senjuro, he bitterly reminded himself.

The marriage ceremony had been quick. And uncomfortable. He hadn't even bothered looking at her face because his skin crawled in his old formal wedding kimono. Three sips of sake and some words and it was done. There was more afterwards, he was sure, but he wasn't paying attention. Now his new wife was here, in his house, and he wanted to make some certain things very clear.

Shinjuro's eyes narrowed as she entered the guest room where her things had been placed, still wearing the shiromuku style kimono that set him so on edge. "Let's get this over with, girl. This is no real marriage. You are free to live here and do what you want, but I have no need for a wife. Earn your keep through chores and watching Senjuro. That's all I want. Are we clear?"