The two weeks have flown by. I have stayed with the same people on the way back, although they seem to be wary that Rie-chan is no longer with me. I tell them that she is with other family members who will raise her, as I am always travelling.
They all agree that a life on the road is no life for a child.
I walk down the road leading towards the Rengoku Estate. There are other estates here and I became familiar with many of the neighbours during my time with the Rengoku family. In my free time I would help out where needed, often in the manual labour department.
My katana is covered and hidden from sight underneath my haori, which allows me to travel with ease. It prevents people from feeling threatened. I would say it prevents me from attracting attention, but that is not true.
I stand out everywhere I go. I am a head taller than most people, with long reddish hair and a scar that covers half of my face. It would be impossible for me to blend in anywhere.
Many of the neighbours wave to me from their gates, it feels like a proper homecoming. I have been away for around two months now, a long time when I think about it.
The sun is high in the sky, with no clouds to shield me from it's glare. It's very hot today, summer had arrived during the time that I had been gone.
I stop in front of the gate to the Rengoku Estate. I brush down my haori, adjust my bandages and make sure that my face is clean. My wounds stopped bleeding long ago, but they still hurt slightly. It is my own fault for being so careless.
The gate opens in front of me and I am greeted by Ruka-san alone. She smiles at me as she welcomes me in, calling for Kyojuro.
He bursts through the house at a ridiculous speed, leaving a trail of dust in his wake. His speed carries him straight past Ruka-san as he crashes into me.
The force of the impact almost knocks me off of my feet. For a small child, Kyojuro contains an enormous amount of power.
Ruka-san catches hold of him immediately, pulling him backwards. Surprisingly she also has a ridiculous amount of strength, I can see where Kyojuro gets it from.
"Can't you see that Yoichi is injured?"
She chides him, smacking him on the forehead lightly as she highlights my wounds. It makes me feel slightly embarrassed in all honesty. The atmosphere is incredibly light and I no longer feel as if I am intruding.
I drop to a knee so that I am level with Kyojuro and smile at him. I'm happy to see him as well.
"I'm back, Kyojuro."
"Welcome home, Yoichi-nii."
Ruka-san lets him go and I ruffle his hair. It is good to be back especially after the gruelling final selection. Shinjuro-san is nowhere to be seen, he has been on a mission for the past two days.
He should be back sometime soon. As as Hashira he possesses an incredible amount of power, so much so that most demons will be no match for him.
I help Ruka-san with the chores as I always have when she stops me and asks me what happened. It confuses me slightly but she explains. She says that my smile has something behind it now, something that makes it real.
It's true that I had always been smiling purely for the sake of it, but now everything feels like it is coming together. I can protect people, I can make a difference. I have value now. Everything that has been done for me can be repaid.
Shinjuro-san returns in the evening, looking worn out. He congratulates me on passing Final Selection and asks me to join him in his study.
During his mission, he had encountered one of the Twelve Kizuki. Lower Moon 2. The demon had escaped at the final moment and disappeared into a sewage system.
Shinjuro-san feels incompetent because of this. As if he has failed and people will die because of this. He had overwhelmed and cornered the Lower Moon, but it's Blood Demon Art had allowed it to escape.
He tells me in depth of the Twelve Kizuki, demons that serve directly under the progenitor of their race. They are split into Upper and Lower ranks, with each having six members.
The Lower Moons are no match for a Hashira, with most being able to kill them and avoid injury. The Upper Moons are drastically more powerful, with even the weakest of them capable of killing a Hashira or two.
No Flame Hashira has ever encountered an Upper Moon and lived to tell the tale. They have all been killed. In fact, most Hashira die upon encountering an Upper Moon. The last time an Upper Moon had been defeated was over a century ago, according to Shinjuro-san.
The Lower Moons are defeated much more frequently. Shinjuro-san has killed two of them himself, defeating a third before it fled. From what he tells me, he is one of the more powerful active Hashira.
The former Rumble Hashira, Kuwajima Jigoro, had been one of the strongest of his generation. He has been forced to retire due to a combination of age and injury, having lost a leg.
The former Water Hashira, Urokodaki Sakonji, had been powerful too. Shinjuro-san describes him as having almost no presence, being almost undetectable until he strikes.
The Hashira really are amazing people, they are all incredibly strong. Each of them possesses a unique strength and full mastery over their Breathing Techniques. Some of them even go on to create new forms to suit them.
I must aim for this pinnacle. There are two ways to become a Hashira, defeat a member of the Twelve Kizuki in single combat or slay fifty demons. The first is the way that most Hashira achieve their rank, the second way takes five years on average.
I cannot wait five years. To become a Hashira, I will have to kill one of the Twelve Kizuki. If I encounter an Upper Moon, I will die. I might even die if I encounter a Lower Moon, although Shinjuro-san doesn't respond when I ask him.
I tell him the story of my journey to Final Selection, saving Rie-chan and then going on to slay thirty-one demons in total. He doesn't seem surprised at all.
Now that I think about it, if slaying fifty demons is a pathway to becoming a Hashira, I am more than halfway there. Although the demons on Mt Fujikasane are supposed to be weaker.
Shinjuro-san proposes a new form of training. I will spar with him every day. This will help me become accustomed to how a Hashira fights and with my ability to improve quickly, boost my skill even further.
In the mornings, I rise with the sun. I spend an hour training my body, following the basic exercises. I run around the estate, maintaining Total Concentration Breathing. It's incredibly taxing on my lungs, but the Hinokami Kagura is worse.
Compared to chaining together the Hinokami Kagura, this feels easier. Shinjuro-san is always in a state of Total Concentration, no matter what he is doing. It is the same whether he is training or sleeping.
If Shinjuro-san does it, then it must be necessary. To maintain it for twenty-four hours a day will take time, but it will improve my lung capacity and my physical abilities.
We spar with shinai, out in the courtyard. Shinjuro-san informs me that he will not be holding back, as it would not be beneficial for me otherwise.
We stand several metres away from one another, with our shinai poised correctly. From the way Shinjuro-san stands, I can see that he is inviting me to attack.
I take the bait, flashing across the gap between us with my shinai swinging towards him in a wide arc.
He disappears from view and before I know it, he is beside me. I duck on reflex and the gust of wind from his swing attacks my hair.
He kicks as I duck and blows me away, sending me sprawling across the courtyard.
"You're better than that, Yoichi."
He seems to have incredible faith in me and my abilities, there is no way that I can let him down. I rise to my feet. Even though I was blown away, I did not drop my weapon.
I lunge towards him again and we trade blows back and forth. I push myself to my limits, forcing my body to move as fast as it can. I can barely see his swings, blocking them is almost impossible.
The first day ends with me sporting an assortment of bruises. Everywhere is purple. Shinjuro-san was true to his word, he did not hold back. He says that being able to react to his blows at all is incredible, but it is not enough.
I need to reach the same level of strength as him, even surpassing him. When I become a Hashira, I will be able to protect everyone around me. No one will die under my watch and I will destroy any demon that gets in my way. Even the Upper Moons.
The second day sees the same results as the first, although my reaction time has improved slightly. It also helps that I am familiar with Flame Breathing, so I am able to understand how Shinjuro-san fights.
On the third day, a swordsmith arrives. The ringing of the chimes hanging from his hat alerts us of his presence as he makes his way down the street.
Ruka-san lets him in and he makes his way straight to the courtyard. He approaches me and asks what Breathing Technique I use. When I tell him that I use a kagura dance passed down to me, he cocks his head.
The most noticeable thing about him is his Hyottoko mask and the spotted cloth he wears wrapped around his head.
He refuses to go inside, instead explaining the properties of the Nichirin blade and how it was made. It is obvious to see that this man is passionate about his craft. He points out my hair and eyes, hoping to see my blade turn a bright red.
When my hands clasp the hilt for the first time, the blade reacts to my touch. From the look on Shinjuro-san's face, what is happening is unique.
The blade turns jet black, and then red cracks spread across it. The red cracks race across it like a flame spreading, covering the entire length of the blade. Both Shinjuro-san and the swordsmith can't take their eyes off of it.
The red marks are like the mark on my face, something that I now have in common with my blade. This is the blade that will accompany me until the end. The blade that will see the end of many demons.
I already feel a strange kinship with it. The handguard is a circular shape, it's colour is golden. It has a flame pattern engraved into it, probably because I am Shinjuro-san's Tsuguko.
This blade is mine, it is unlike the borrowed blade that I had used. That will be returned to Shinjuro-san now. This blade will be the one that Yoichi wields, the blade that will see me through everything.
The swordsmith finally introduces himself as Haganezuka Hotaru, a twenty-two year old that has only just been given the greenlight to forge nichirin swords.
I have confidence in Haganezuka-san and the blade that he forged for me. When I tell him this, I can almost see the smile beneath his mask.
He has also brought my uniform with me, trying it on proves that it fits like a glove. Along with my crimson haori, I look the part of a Demon Slayer.
I stand before Shinjuro-san with my nichirin blade and my uniform. The smile that lights up his face is genuine, as if he is a proud older brother.
The swordsmith leaves and I resume training with Shinjuro-san. I accompany him on various missions, although he kills most of the demons.
It takes a month of daily training before I am able to land my first blow on Shinjuro-san, a counter attack that disregards the blow aimed for my ribs. The shinai smacks against his inner elbow and he looks at me in surprise.
During this month, I have been able to keep up Total Concentration Breathing. It has become such a routine that I am even using it in my sleep, which means I am in a constant state of Total Concentration.
The day after I strike Shinjuro-san for the first time, we are called to a mission in Tokyo.
As a country boy, the bright lights and bustling life of a city such as Tokyo is startling. I can't let all the sensations affect me, because we are on duty.
Even though the sun has set, the city is as busy as ever. Couples mill about the place, visiting various stalls or chatting as they move from place to place. The city is incredibly loud, especially to my enhanced ears.
We are here because twenty people have been reported missing across a single week, which is a telltale sign that a demon is at work. Even the criminal gangs wouldn't take that many people so quickly.
Our swords are covered up, it is especially important in a busy city. People walking around with swords would be spotted and approached by police.
Shinjuro-san speaks with people present, asking if anyone had heard about people going missing. We are in the area that the people were last seen, the place suspected to be the feeding ground of the demon.
Some people tell us that a monster lurks in the alleyways, striking at anyone present after dark. That gives us a hint on where to go.
Shinjuro-san runs ahead of me and takes a left turn, so I move in the opposite direction. We will cover every alleyway we can, until the demon is caught.
There is even traffic in the alleyways, people taking shortcuts or intertwining with the night. I breeze past them with ease, some of them failing to notice that I am even there.
Demons sound different to normal human beings. Their insides work differently and they move differently. The easiest way to tell them apart is to listen.
Even as I run from alley to alley, I am listening. That is when I hear it. The sound of muscle and gristle being torn apart.
Left, right, left. I pick up the speed, taking every turn ridiculously fast. I knock several people over, but I have no time to stop. Someone is being eaten.
The sound grows louder and changes. Blood is being gulped down and the person bitten is dying. I'm not fast enough.
I take a final right turn, my blade is already in my hands and my body moves on instinct. My instincts have been overridden by training, I put other people first over my own survival. That is what it means to be a Demon Slayer.
The demon is a little girl, she can't be much older than ten. She has torn apart the throat of an old man, taking his life and drinking his essence.
The sight is awful. Blood pools around his corpse and she keeps tearing and drinking.
She spots me and growls, not knowing what I am. That I am here to kill her is not something she knows. Even if she is a child, she is still a demon.
"I'm sorry. May you rest in peace."
I speak to her softly. Even if she is a demon now, she was a little girl not too long ago. Someone with dreams and hopes of a future. She was a human like me.
She stands up, her legs shaking. It seems she understands now, that I am here to kill her. That I am someone who slays demons. For the first time, I see a demon overcome by fear.
She looks at me like I am a monster. But that is okay. Because I am a monster.
"Flame Breathing, First Form: Unknowing Fire."
I cross the distance in an instant, my blade cleaving through the air. It feels as if flames are created along the arc of my swing, seeking to burn the demon to the bone.
She raises her hands to protect her head, but they are cut off. My blade passes through her neck, taking it off in one clean blow. I cut as cleanly as possible, so that she may rest sooner.
Kakushi have already begun to arrive, members of the Demon Slayer Corps that clean up after our missions. They have cleared the street closest to the alley I am in, forcing all people present to leave.
I leave the alleyway, sheathing my sword as I do. This is the first demon that has fallen to this blade, but it does not feel good at all. All I can feel is anger towards one man. Kibutsuji Muzan, just how many lives have you trampled over?
Shinjuro-san waits in the empty street. A cold wind blows and I shiver. Even though nobody else is present, my senses remain heightened. This street is not a main road, but it would be popular at this time of night.
I thought the Kakushi had cleared it, but people would have returned quickly. After all, we aren't a government organisation.
Shinjuro-san can tell something is off too, because he has drawn his blade. He noticed before I did, but he did not say anything.
The air itself feels as if it is stale, not daring to move. That is when I truly feel it, the presence that has joined us in this empty street. The air freezes. If I breathe, my lungs will freeze too.
"Ah, both of you are men."
Someone speaks from right beside me. I couldn't even hear them move. My instincts couldn't detect them at all.
Instead of leaping backwards, I drop to the floor and roll forwards. The air above me is cut incredibly fast. I'm sure that the demon could have cut my head from my shoulders easily.
A pair of fans descend towards me as I come out of my roll. This is it. I won't make it in time. I can't react, the demon is far too fast. I can't do it.
"Flame Breathing, Second Form: Rising Scorching Sun!"
The blade of the Flame Hashira meets the ice cold fans, preventing my death. Shinjuro-san reacted incredibly fast, saving my life.
The demon does not pursue me, I turn and draw my blade. That is when I see it. The lettering engraved upon his eyes.
Upper Moon Two. He is around the same height and build as I am, but he is far faster. His hair is a light gold, but his eyes stand out the most. It is like looking into a kaleidoscope, every colour imaginable resides within them.
The presence that he gives off is terrifying. I am struggling to move even my fingers now that I understand the situation. An Upper Moon, one of the strongest demons in existence, stands before us.
Upper Moon Two would be the third most powerful demon, after Upper Moon One and Kibutsuji himself. I understand immediately, this is not a fight that we can win. We are not enough.
The demon himself is aware of this, because he doesn't even seem to be trying.
Even though he knows we can't win, Shinjuro-san stands tall against this threat. His blade does not waver. Even though he has a family at home, he does not take so much as a single step backwards.
He stands between me and the Upper Moon, as if to shield me from his presence. Within the blink of an eye, the demon has crossed the distance between them. He moves so fast that my eyes can't follow him and my ears can barely hear his movements.
Shinjuro-san is able to react, his blade meeting the fans that aim for his neck. They engage in a two man war, slashing at each other at ridiculous speeds.
This is the pinnacle of power in this world. A Hashira and an Upper Moon are duelling, the strongest of the humans is fighting against the strongest of the demons.
Which is why I can only come to one conclusion. That demons are inherently stronger. Because Shinjuro-san is being pushed back and the demon still isn't taking the fight seriously.
Each time they clash, Shinjuro-san receives a new wound. His face has been cut and his arms are soaked in blood. Every time his blade reaches the demon, the wounds heal far too fast.
I hate it. I hate it so much. It makes my blood boil. Even though we try so hard, they heal. They heal and heal and all of our hard work comes to naught. We can't heal, we have to carry on fighting.
What am I doing? All I can do is sit here and complain? Did I really become a Demon Slayer for this?
I stand up, even if my nerves feel like they have been frozen solid. I move. My sword leaves it's sheathe. I know that demon could kill me instantly, but if it allows Shinjuro-san a clean shot on it's neck, then it is a fair trade.
Shinjuro-san is pushed backwards, creating a small opening for me to force my way in. I know it'll aim for my neck like it did before, so I have a slight advantage. If I know where it is striking, I can strike back.
"Hinokami Kagura: Burning Bones, Summer Sun!"
I unleash the Hinokami Kagura, even if I have been told not to. This situation demands it's power.
The technique that I have used is aimed to counter the fans I know are incoming and they clash brilliantly. Fire meets ice and I am blown away.
I am not dead. Even if my arms ache from the blow, I am not dead. I can keep on fighting, I can buy time for Shinjuro-san.
As soon as the fans collided with my blade, Shinjuro-san stepped in. His attacks blended together as he unleashed the fifth form and a brilliant tiger roared into existence.
His blade seeks out the demon's neck, driving towards it relentlessly. Instead it finds the war fans, clashing against them as the sound of steel echoes throughout the empty street.
A duel for the ages is taking place with no spectators, as fire and ice meet in a dance of death. If I enter again, I will certainly die. But I cannot watch from the sidelines as the man that trained me dies.
I prepare to unleash the Hinokami Kagura again when one of the fans shoots towards my face. My blade is just close enough to offset it, but it cuts deep. The fan slashes straight across the mark on the left side of my face, tracing a line from my chin to my forehead.
The pain is horrifying, a stinging cut and a freezing cold blend together to assault every ounce of my consciousness. I have never felt anything like this in my life, it drives me to my knees.
The second fan comes for my head, only to be repelled by Shinjuro-san's blade. Even though the demon outclasses him, it is not to the point that his presence does not matter.
"I won't let you."
He speaks to the demon for the first time. His voice trembles with anger, for my sake. He is furious. His hands are tight to his blade and I can hear his knuckles cracking under the strength of his own grip.
I need to stand up, but I cannot see out of my left eye. My depth perception is missing, my eye forced shut because of the blood pouring into it.
Where the fan cut me, the skin has started to freeze. It is painful, but the blood is freezing too.
I can barely make it to my feet, my sword feels loose in my hands. I didn't think it would go this way, for me to encounter an Upper Moon this quickly. They are more powerful than the Hashira. There is no way to win against them.
Shinjuro-san's wounds are increasing and he is starting to slow down. Ice is forming where he has been hit and his breath is ragged. He has been fighting to his limit for a while now, I don't even know how long it has been since the demon arrived.
The sun won't be rising any time soon, so how can we win? It is hopeless, Shinjuro-san is almost done now. I will be killed immediately and then we will both be dead.
Is this what it has all led to?
I'm going to die here, without being able to repay anyone. That alone sets my mind alight. This demon has come to kill us with a smile on his face. Without a care in the world, he has come to murder human beings.
Unforgivable. I can't stand it. I will not stand it.
My hands tighten on my sword and I can feel the entire weight of it. I need to be careful here. As soon as Shinjuro-san's sword clashes with one of the fans, I will attempt to remove the hand that holds it.
His sword meets the fan and there is a split second opening.
"Hinokami Kagura: Waltz!"
My blade slices downwards, just beyond the fan. It cuts into the flesh of the demon but does not pass all the way through. His flesh is so tough, like a thick glacier of ice.
This is the end. My blade is trapped in his arm and his other hand is free. At least it was, until Shinjuro-san cut it off.
With the use of the second form, he made use of my distraction. Reacting instantly, he cut the demon's other arm off. For the first time, the demon stops smiling. A look of disgust flushes across his face and the air I breathe freezes in my throat.
I can't breathe. Without being able to breathe I cannot move. I use the last I have to leap backwards, my sword freeing itself from his arm. He lunges towards me, only to be blindsided by Shinjuro-san.
The two trade blows back and forth, with Shinjuro-san sustaining wound after wound. His entire body must be in agony, yet he forces himself forward.
The blade meets both fans, and one of them slides down the length of it. It cuts straight through his handguard and removes some of the fingers on his right hand.
Instead of dropping his blade, he takes advantage of the moment.
"Flame Breathing, Sixth Form: Infernal Rage!"
He uses a form that I do not know, his blade descends in a diagonal strike. A monk's robe cut that aims to split the demon from shoulder to hip. It slashes deep but not enough. The blade returns along the same trajectory, from hip to shoulder and it inflicts enough damage to force Upper Moon Two backwards.
Twenty metres open between them, allowing for a lull in the battle. Shinjuro-san is on the brink of death, I can see it from here. I can hear the breath rattling out of his lungs, he is fighting with everything he has left. He is fighting to protect me, not to defeat the demon.
He takes a stance that I do not know, his blade raised behind him.
"Flame Breathing: Esoteric Art."
His stance is incredibly perfect. He is about to unleash an attack with everything that he has left. The death blow of a Hashira.
"Yoichi, there is no shame in surviving. Living to see the sunrise is victory. Run."
He speaks to me, gasping for air as he does so. He doesn't turn his head, instead remaining facing forward.
Run? Why would I do that?
"You are special, you will become far greater than I am. For the sake of everybody that you will save, run."
Why? I'm not anymore special than the man stood in front of me. So why does he insist that I am and that his life is worth less than mine. I can't understand it. It should be the other way around, he should live to see another day.
Shinjuro-san has a pregnant wife and a son. I have no one and nothing. Even though he has everything to live for, he is willing to lay down his life in this moment.
This is what it means to be a Demon Slayer, a person that dances along the border of life and death. As a Hashira, of course he would protect the people weaker than him.
"Shinjuro-san, don't die, please!"
I call out to him, the air is burning the back of my throat. He can't die here, not now. Even if he says he is ready, what will happen to his family? To Kyojuro? To the baby that has yet to be born?
That is when it strikes me. He is just aware of this as I am, yet his conviction remains strong. He must want to survive for his family, but he sees something that I cannot. He sees something worth dying for in this moment, something that is not as fragile as human pride.
But I can't bring myself to run away, my legs won't move.
"How touching, the mentor dies to protect his student."
The demon is putting on a mask of emotion, I can tell because nobody looks like that when they feel what he is pretending to feel. It makes my insides burn with rage.
I'm incredibly wounded from trading but a few blows, there is no way that I could fight. I wasn't on this level in the first place, this has proved it to me.
I have failed and now Shinjuro-san is going to die because of it. I hate it so much, I wish the world would swallow everything up and burn it to ash. This feeling of hopelessness threatens to burn me from the inside out.
My legs begin to move, away from the fight. I hate it so much, I hate it all. But I cannot let Shinjuro-san die in vain. If this is what he has chosen to die for, then I shall carry it on far into the future.
I can hear his shoulders slump in relief before he straightens up again.
"Ninth Form: Rengoku."
He calls out the name of the final form of the Breath of Flame and leaps towards the demon. It is as if none of his wounds exist, every movement is perfect. His speed is incredible and the power in the first slash that reaches the demon exceeds anything I have ever seen.
His blade slams into the fans, blowing the demon's guard clean open. His second slash aims for it's neck but the demon is faster. It moves backwards, the blade leaving a shallow slash across it's neck. It's fans swing towards him and his third slash clashes with them.
There isn't time for a fourth slash. Because Shinjuro-san is dead. I can hear it even as I run, the sound of his throat being pierced. It is by far the most awful noise I have ever heard.
I run, exhausting everything that I have. I dash through alleyways and across streets. The demon is not pursuing me but I move incredibly fast.
I'm a failure. Because of me, Shinjuro-san is dead. My survival has cost a Hashira his life.
There is no way that is a fair trade. I can't stomach the feeling of hatred and anger that flows through me. I will kill that demon, if it is the last thing that I do.
I promise you, Shinjuro-san. My blade will remove the head of Upper Moon Two. I will be the person who does it, I will remove his head from his shoulders. Even if it kills me.
And this is where we start to err from canon slightly, with the death of a Hashira at the hands of that bastard Doma. I would love to hear your thoughts on how this chapter went. I also decided to add a form that we have not seen from Flame Breathing, because I thought the idea was kinda cool. -TheGrailsVoice