"Ubuyashiki Kagaya…"
Yoriichi repeated the name under his breath, but it still felt unfamiliar.
He had no memory of anyone by that name. And yet… that family name—he had never forgotten it.
"He's the master who leads the Demon Slayer Corps."
Giyu's expression was solemn as he explained, "We're called 'demon hunters.' And the master is the one who gathered swordsmen like us—people with nowhere else to go—and guides us like a father would."
He paused, casting a complicated glance at the wooden box on Yoriichi's back, then pulled out paper and a brush.
"As for 'turning a demon back into a human,' and the unusual circumstances of you and your sister… I can't make that decision on my own. I'll write a letter immediately and report everything that happened here to the master, then await his instructions on what we do next."
Because this situation was far too strange.
Tomioka Giyu was the current Water Hashira—one of the nine who stood at the very top of the Corps.
And yet just now, he'd been "knocked out" by a mountain boy traveling with a demon… True, he hadn't taken the fight entirely seriously at first, but the mere fact that a Hashira had been felled was already beyond comprehension.
Even more unsettling was that the boy had pinpointed—at a single glance—the flaw that had crept into the Water Breathing lineage over time.
A young boy with extraordinary sword talent, and a demon who didn't eat people—those two together were enough to shake the entire organization.
No matter what, this had to be reported to the master…
…
Demon Slayer Corps Headquarters — the Ubuyashiki Estate.
Heavy snow blanketed the estate. In the garden, the withered rock formations looked desolate and austere beneath the white, carrying a kind of solemn beauty.
A man sat upright in the corridor, his face ravaged by illness, both eyes blind.
Though he couldn't see, his blindness seemed to have sharpened his other senses. He sat there, taking in the sting of cold carried by the wind and snow, his expression tranquil and serene.
"Caw—!"
With a hoarse cry, a black Kasugai crow beat its wings through the storm, then landed in front of him.
Lady Amane, who had been keeping vigil at his side, reached out and removed the message tube from the crow's leg.
She unfolded the letter and scanned it quickly. For perhaps the first time in a long while, surprise surfaced on her otherwise composed face.
"From the look on your face, something rather extraordinary must have happened," Ubuyashiki Kagaya said, turning his head toward her with a gentle smile… even though he couldn't see a thing.
Lady Amane dipped her chin, her voice soft but grave. "It's an urgent letter from Giyu."
"Oh?"
Kagaya sounded mildly taken aback. He coughed weakly.
"…That child rarely reaches out to me of his own accord. Did he encounter one of the Twelve Kizuki?"
"No… something even more noteworthy."
Lady Amane kept her eyes on the letter as she continued, "On the northern side of Mount Kumotori, he found a boy. The boy was traveling with a younger sister who had already become a demon—but that demon has not yet developed the instinct to eat humans, and…"
She paused, then went on, "In his letter, Giyu says the boy possesses swordsmanship beyond common sense. Giyu also says… he was defeated in their exchange."
"..."
For a moment, the air in the room seemed to fall silent.
After what felt like a long time, the man known as the "master" slowly let out a breath.
"Giyu… was defeated?"
If anyone else had claimed such a thing, Kagaya might have doubted it. But Tomioka Giyu's personality was stubborn—never dishonest, never given to exaggeration.
A human from deep in the mountains, traveling with a demon… and he defeated the Water Hashira…
After a brief contemplation, Kagaya's lips curved into a faint smile.
In a gentle tone, he instructed, "Amane, please have Shinobu come here."
Lady Amane bowed respectfully. "Yes."
She rose and left the room.
Not long after, light footsteps sounded from the far end of the corridor.
A woman stepped into view with measured grace.
Her Demon Slayer uniform had been specially tailored, fitting close to her body and outlining the slender, poised lines of her figure—carrying the subtle impression of a flower just beginning to bloom.
In her violet eyes lingered a mild, gentle smile—one that revealed nothing of what she truly thought.
The Insect Hashira of the Demon Slayer Corps—Shinobu Kocho.
"Master, you sent for me?"
Shinobu knelt on one knee, elegant and weightless in her posture. Her voice was clear and pleasant. "I hear Tomioka has sent back something… interesting?"
…
The wind howled, driving snow in rolling waves.
Giyu sat beneath the shadow of a tree, watching the boy in silence.
From the moment earlier until now, he had been staring at this boy called "Tanjiro" without looking away.
The boy gently stroked the wooden box where Nezuko was hidden.
That impossibly tender gesture inevitably dragged Giyu's thoughts back to their clash.
The strength had been terrifying—enough to shatter a Hashira's defense in an instant—yet the sword stroke itself had been unbelievably gentle.
Yes… from beginning to end, Giyu hadn't sensed even a trace of killing intent or battle lust from the boy.
That "power without malice" left the Water Hashira with a kind of frustration he had never experienced in his life.
He remained silent, then shifted his gaze toward the box again, more conflicted than before.
Several hours had passed since the demon called "Nezuko" had been struck down and fallen unconscious.
During that time, she had awakened briefly.
According to everything the Demon Slayer Corps knew, a demon in a state of extreme hunger and injury would go berserk in bloodlust to recover—even devouring its own parents without hesitation.
But that girl… she had only let out a few pained whimpers. She ignored the humans within arm's reach as if they didn't exist, then curled back into the box and fell into a deep sleep.
It was unthinkable.
"A demon that doesn't eat people…"
The thought circled once in Giyu's mind—then reason crushed it flat.
Was it really safe? As a Hashira, could he allow a demon to live? Even if she seemed harmless now, if she ever lost control—who would bear the cost?
His fingers unconsciously rubbed the hilt. Those deep-blue eyes remained fixed on the box, as if he could see through the thick wooden boards and into the truth inside.
"She's afraid."
Tanjiro suddenly spoke, his voice startlingly clear against the storm.
Giyu frowned. "Demons don't feel fear. They only have greed and bloodlust."
"No."
Tanjiro shook his head, his dark-red eyes calm as they met Giyu's.
In that instant, the Water Hashira felt as though he were standing naked beneath the blazing sun—every defense, every technique, even the self-loathing buried in the deepest part of him, laid bare by that gaze.
"She heard the sound inside your blade," Tanjiro said. "The sound of water—crying out."
He gestured toward the Nichirin sword at Giyu's waist and spoke evenly. "Your heart is still as a quiet pool, but your sword is weeping. I can feel it—you don't have anger when you cut down demons. Only emptiness."
The retort Giyu had been about to give died in his throat.
His pupils tightened.
For a fleeting moment, he wondered if this boy could read minds.
This wasn't about skill or technique anymore. It was as if the boy had seen straight through his soul.
Ever since Sabito died, he really had been living in a hollow spiral of self-denial, believing from the bottom of his heart that he didn't deserve to be the Water Hashira.
"You…" Giyu parted his lips. "Who are you?"
Tanjiro shook his head, looking past the swirling snow toward the darkness of the forest.
"Someone's coming."
His hand settled naturally on the worn axe at his waist. In those dark-red eyes, there was the faintest trace of pity—so subtle it was almost invisible.
"There's a heavy stench of blood… and the smell of grief, buried deep in the soul."
Grief?
Giyu froze, and before he could even process what that meant, a whisper of movement cut through the air—close.
So light it was as if it left no footprint in the snow, and yet so fast it was frightening.
Giyu's expression changed. Instinctively, he brought up his scabbard and stepped in front of Tanjiro.
The next moment, a vividly colored figure seemed to materialize out of the wind and snow, landing lightly on a dead branch a few paces away.
It was a woman.
She wore a haori patterned like butterfly wings—thin as cicada silk. As she landed, the hem fluttered back, outlining the graceful lines of her figure.
The cold wind tousled the strands at her temples, brushing them across her cheeks and lending her an air of subtle mystery—almost seductive.
From above, she looked down at the two of them. Her eyes flickered with a gentle, restrained smile—one that seemed polite on the surface and unreadable beneath.
"Oh my," she said lightly. "Isn't this Tomioka?"
Shinobu tilted her head, tapping her chin with a fingertip. Her voice was crisp and sweet—yet it made cold creep up Giyu's spine.
"A Hashira sheltering a demon… and even going so far as to petition the master about it…"
She narrowed her eyes. The curve of her smile grew softer—and more dangerous.
"That's a serious violation of Corps law, you know."
-------
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