walk steady on this cruel world's path

By: Aviantei

[Shibuya Operation – Story Storm]

Part Three:

"A Flash of Light Through the Dark"

"None of you need to worry about training today. Just take care of your chores. Rairi, make sure you rest up when you're done."

Sensei's announcement brought the eating of us gathered students to a halt. Today was not one of our usual scheduled rest days, and we only broke the routine for things like holidays or whenever Sensei had to leave the house to take care of something for the Demon Slayer Corps. Hell, in the whole near two years I'd been there, never once had something like this happened, which meant that Kaigaku and Zenitsu were just as bewildered by the proclamation as I was, as evidenced by the three of us exchanging confused glances. Since I'd been around them for so long, I could guess what they were thinking—

Zenitsu: I don't want to complain about not having to train today, but…

Kaigaku: What the hell's so important that it means we need to take a day off?

And so, I, since I'd been given express instructions to rest up for the day, asked, "What the hell's the catch?"

No, two years had not been long enough for me to learn my lesson about mouthing off. Hell, the fact that I'd been there for two years was less surprising than that—though the biggest shocker of all was that Sensei didn't chuck something at me for my lip.

"Sensei," I said with as much delicacy as I could muster (which, given my history, wasn't much), "you're not dying, are you?"

"Hmph, don't write me off just yet, Child," he said, though I still hadn't received any punishment for being a smartass. I tucked away the possibility of a surprise retribution later and decided to stay alert for at least the next twenty-four hours, which seemed counter-intuitive to my instructions to rest. Zenitsu and Kaigaku, who had both looked concerned in their own very different ways at my question, let out little sighs of relief. "Tonight, I'm taking you demon hunting. Depending on how you do, I'll recommend you for Final Selection."

"If Rairi-senpai's going, I'm going, too," Kaigaku said with such force that the golden magatama pendant around his neck bounced. He was gripping his chopsticks tight enough that I was surprised they hadn't snapped into pieces. "I've been training just as hard, and I can pull off all the forms aside from the first." Kaigaku wasn't lying about his improvement; the last couple of times we'd challenged each other, it had been hard for me to secure a victory. Zenitsu, who hadn't been able to pull off any of the forms besides the Hekireki Issen, shifted as he stared down at his breakfast. "I'll show you I'm ready for Final Selection, Sensei."

"While your improvement has been impressive, Kaigaku, you will not be coming." Kaigaku opened his mouth in protest, but Sensei's sharp glare silenced him. "This isn't a slight on your skills; I simply don't take any of my apprentices out to challenge a demon until they've completed at least two years of training. Your time will come soon enough, but it's not now."

Kaigaku grumbled several things that sounded like expletives under his breath, and he took out his mounting frustration by devouring the portion of grilled fish before him.

The prospect of facing an actual demon was both exciting and terrifying. Despite my complete lack of inexperience before—I'd never even seen a sword in person before landing in Taishō Japan, and that was just one of many, many things that put me at a disadvantage—I'd made a lot of progress, and I felt confident in my Thunder Breathing techniques. Total Concentration, which had been exhausting before, now only wore me down when I performed several attacks in quick succession. And, most importantly, I had Sensei's approval, which I was finding meant a whole lot more to me than I had expected.

I will not cry in front of my kōhai at breakfast, I thought, dipping my head in thanks so the others wouldn't see my watering eyes. If nothing else, I managed to keep my voice steady as I said, "Thank you for the opportunity, Sensei."

Sensei hummed, the sound a deep rumbling in his throat. "Don't go thanking me just yet, Child. This is where things get difficult."

Because Sensei was a former Hashira who also served as a Cultivator of Thunder Breathing for the Demon Slayer Corps, he had plenty of resources at his disposal, which enabled him to do things like cover the debt Zenitsu had gotten himself into and support the living expenses of his large home plus three apprentices. For the most part, that meant he could hire help, like a cook to take care of meal prep, but plenty of the housework was the responsibility of Kaigaku, Zenitsu, and myself.

Aside from doing the dishes, which was a job the three of us shared, my main duty was tending to the laundry. I will not lie—washing everything by hand sucked, especially since we all made a mess of our clothes on a daily basis. Zenitsu, with his penchant for darting off and climbing trees to escape, was the worst, though Kaigaku was a close contender since his garments were always thick with the sweat he worked up through training. But, as much work as it was, washing things out and hanging them up to dry was pretty meditative, and it made it easy to not think about the fact that I was going to come face to face with an actual demon in less than twelve hours' time, holy fuck.

My entire time in this world, I hadn't seen anything even resembling a monster. If it weren't for the magic-like elements of the Total Concentration Breathing system, I may not have ever recognized that this was Fantasy Taishō Era Japan in the first place. Part of my lack of demon encounters was because Sensei's home had spots with wisteria incense, which kept the monsters at bay when the sunlight couldn't. Soon enough, though, I was going to step outside that safe haven and right into a fight with an actual demon.

So, yeah, kind of freaking out inside. That was happening.

Come on, if Sensei thinks you might be ready, you should be fine. Plus he's coming with you. Save your panicking for later—right now, these blankets need your attention!

No doubt. Scrubbing laundry by hand. Super therapeutic, no matter how much it sucked. By the time I had to go and hang everything up outside, I'd for the most part forgotten my worries, singing under my breath. The summer heat could pull beads of sweat down your neck, sure, but it wasn't unbearable, and a nice breeze made the weather more comfortable. It felt like any other day taking care of chores, and I even crossed paths with Zenitsu finishing up wiping down the floors. He'd thrown open the doors facing the courtyard to let the sunlight and fresh air in, and I had a perfect view of him running back and forth with a cloth as I worked on clipping the blankets to the clotheslines.

"Senpai, do you need any help?"

I'd zoned out hard enough that I hadn't even noticed that the thudding of Zenitsu's footsteps had faded, which was not the best sign for my concentration. "I won't say no to help if you're already done with your chores," I said. Zenitsu nodded, and he fell into place beside me, helping me heft the longer blankets into place and passing me clips so nothing would fly off without warning. While I wouldn't say Zenitsu had a flowers and sunshine personality twenty-four-seven, he did seem a little bit more subdued than usual. "What's on your mind, kōhai of mine?"

"Um, well…" Just like waiting for him to have the courage to come back to training, I gave him the time he needed to find the words. "Senpai, you…don't sound all that scared right now."

To clarify, one of Zenitsu's particular skills was his keen sense of hearing—and that was something he had without using Total Concentration to augment his physical capabilities. In the bit over a year since Zenitsu's arrival, I'd learned that he was capable of hearing people's emotions, and he could even identify the difference between humans and other animals based on the sounds of their biology alone, which was fucking wild—so his comment didn't surprise me much.

"Funny," I said, smoothing out the next blanket so it wouldn't form wrinkles, "'cause I am scared. Maybe I'm just not as scared as I should be, though." Sure, I'd been freaking out earlier, but it wasn't anything strong enough to launch me into proper panic. My, what a difference two years and learning magic swordplay could make. I glanced over to him, doing my best to keep up my by now patented Soothing Senpai Aura. "Are you worried for me?"

Zenitsu nodded, but he refused to look at me. "This isn't just training. You could get hurt bad. And even if you make it okay, Jī-chan will send you to Final Selection, and you could die." His hands fell away from the laundry, and he gripped onto his hakama with tight fists. "I don't want you to die, Senpai."

Full disclosure: I felt stunned. While Zenitsu's panic attacks had decreased in frequency since he'd started, I'd still expected him to freak out more about the idea that he, too, would in time be expected to do the same. But, no, he was worried about me.

Goodness, my little kōhai, you've sure grown without me noticing.

"If Rairi-senpai dies, that just means they weren't strong enough."

And, you, my other little kōhai, could stand to learn some tact.

Kaigaku had also arrived, though he didn't make any moves to help out with the laundry. Then again, since he was here, he'd likely already finished his own chores for the day. Sure enough, when I glanced over my shoulder at him, he had his sword at his waist, ready to practice even more. I had no doubt that the announcement that he wasn't ready to participate in Final Selection just yet had stoked his competitive spirit.

"When it comes to the Demon Slayer Corps, only the strong end up surviving," Kaigaku said as he transitioned into an opening stance. While he'd fixed his footing problem from his early days, his blade had a distinct slant to it that made his techniques annoying to counter if you weren't paying attention, and his general ambidextrousness could still throw me off guard during sparring. "If Rairi-senpai can't make it through a week of Final Selection, it'd only be a matter of time before some demon offs them."

Beside me, Zenitsu bristled. "What's that say about you if you can't even beat them, huh?"

Kaigaku's eyes narrowed into very angry, very dangerous turquoise slits. "What's that say about you who can't even pull off more than one technique despite all the time you've been here?"

"Now, now," I said, diffusing the situation before it could explode into a full-blown argument. Since we all had a basic grasp on Thunder Breathing by now, even the smallest of altercations could turn into something destructive and messy. Sensei had given us an unexpected day off, but I could also see him giving us punishment drills if things escalated far enough. "Everybody has their own strengths and weaknesses, and we all learn at our own pace." I could have mentioned to Kaigaku that I was the only one present who could perform all six forms of Thunder Breathing, but that was a dick power move I didn't want to pull. "Besides, we don't even know if Sensei will recommend me for Final Selection after tonight. Kinda gotta clear that hurdle first."

Then, to show that it was no big deal, I went back to pinning up the last of the blankets, as if it were just a normal day—though my heart was thudding along at a little bit of a faster clip than normal. Kaigaku scoffed, and I could hear the motions as he swung his sword to warm up, the metal slicing through the air.

"Senpai," Zenitsu said, his hand catching on the sleeve of my haori, "you're always telling me that I can do it. If that's true, even with all my mistakes, then you can do it, too."

"And if you can't," Kaigaku oh so helpfully added, "I'll make up for it by surpassing you and making it through Final Selection first."

A breeze passed, the blankets flapped in the wind, and I smiled as both my kōhai wished me luck in their own ways.

I had said there would be time to panic later, and—surprise!—there was time to panic later! That time just happened to coincide with Sensei and I heading out after sunset and the glow of the lights in the house getting farther and farther away with each step. Since industrialization hadn't yet hit this corner of Japan in full swing, there was far less light pollution, and stars twinkled up above in a sight that would have been breathtaking if I hadn't felt like I was about to blow my chunks all over the road. Whether it was on purpose or a coincidence, the night of my first demon hunt fell on a new moon, so there were extra shadows everywhere, and my brain kept providing all the worst possible scenarios. I suspected that, just maybe, this level of paranoia was what Zenitsu had experienced whenever he ran off screaming in his early training days.

Sensei, like the badass he was, walked steady and without any fear despite being about half my height and with one leg replaced by a peg. He had his usual cane to support his gait, but tonight he also had a sword hanging from his waist. When he taught us the Thunder Breathing forms, he'd used the blade, but he didn't always wear it as a weapon at the ready.

Which means that shit's about to get real. Wow, maybe I should have just vomited before we left and gotten it over with.

Given that I'd been in this timeline for a little over two years meant that I'd changed and grown a lot, with Sensei's help being a major influence. But with this anniversary passing, it was a reminder that until two years ago I had been an ordinary teenager with no powers or combat experience to speak of. In comparison to someone like Sensei, who'd been through battles most of his life, or even other Demon Slayers, what little experience I'd gained was like comparing a mob enemy to a final boss.

"Child," Sensei said, his clear voice cutting through the night and making my brain snap to practiced attention, "tell me the methods to kill a demon."

This wasn't a test; I knew this information, and Sensei knew I knew this information. What he was doing was grounding me, giving me something to focus on other than how dangerous fighting a fucking demon was going to be. "All demons will die if exposed to direct sunlight for too long. Wisteria is also poisonous to them," I said, the familiar syllables creating a rhythm that eased me into a sense of security. My hand rested on the hilt of my sword. "Other than that, the only other known way to kill a demon is to behead it with a Nichirin blade."

Nichirin was a special type of metal that was effective when used on demons. The sword I had wasn't a pure Nichirin blade—with it being a valued resource, only proper Demon Slayers got those—but most people who trained under a Cultivator like Sensei received a partial blade to use for things like training and Final Selection. Because of its diluted Nichirin content, the sword I had on me would only be enough to handle lower-level demons and maybe some mid-level ones if in the right hands, but that also served as an effective test of its own.

If I couldn't make use of even a sword of this quality, wouldn't it be a waste to use up some precious Nichirin ore on a proper blade for me?

Sensei hummed his affirmation to my response without once looking back at me. "You've come far since you first came with me, Child," he said, his footfalls not making a single sound. "I wouldn't be giving you this test if you weren't ready. Now, stand proud as a student of Thunder Breathing, Rairi."

Stand proud as a student of Kuwajima Jigorō.

You are Gallant Thunder.

My posture straightened, my eyes closed, I breathed.

In comparison to the twenty-first century where I had lived, the air here was cleaner, and it moved in a refreshing torrent down my throat and through my lungs. Except that crisp taste was the slightest bit tainted by a presence I didn't recognize but had a pretty decent guess at what it was.

I darted past Sensei, assured by his presence at my back. I dashed over the dirt roads I'd become familiar with over the past two years, taking care not to trample over the rice paddies that the farmers living here worked so hard to cultivate. Even with the limited light in the dark, the hulking shadow of the demon was near impossible to miss, though I couldn't make out the details. Even so, its proportions and aura made it clear that it was a monster.

"Kaminari no Kokyū—San no Kata: Shūbun Seirai."

Rather than a single decisive blow, I chose to close the enemy in. From several swings and movements, multiple arcs of lightning formed and converged on the demon. Since I'd pulled off a surprise attack, the move struck home, creating several severe wounds and even lopping off one of the demon's hands through the forearm. I knew that its skin would stitch back together, that anything I cut off would regrow in a matter of time—but that was if I hesitated.

The demon howled and lunged at me. With my sword in my grip, I felt an eerie level of peace descend over me in the face of the attacking monster. I'd trained for this precise moment. So when it charged at me, I moved and breathed in the motions I'd committed to memory.

"Go no Kata: Netsu Kairai."

With all the force of a thunderbolt crashing to the earth, my blade glowed bright and crackled as it sliced through the demon's neck and sent the monster to death.

[Author's Notes]

Welcome back to part three of this fic. We have now completed our obligatory Shōnen Two Year Time Skip, which means we can get into the good stuff. You know, like hunting demons and getting ready for Final Selection. The first chunk of set up is done, so now into more meaty plot bits. Okay, maybe not the full meaty goodness just yet, but we're moving along.

You know what is complete and utter goodness, though? All y'all and the support you've provided. I looked at the views for the day I uploaded part two and it's been a while since I've seen those kinds of numbers. Thanks goes out to all of you, but special named shout outs go out to amgs, Ozilla, demiwizard202, NarutoBaconGod, kakaroto10000, AverageJoker3, Chronic Guardian, ILikeFoxes828, AyakiTz, genlock4, Hiding in Plan, Angel1009, Seikar-a, obliviousss, Charles Silva, guren769, AdriaTyler, 909anime, Praecisio, Casu4lDucK, sergiolovania, and SoSaysL for the favorites, follows, and reviews on this fic since last chapter. I extensively appreciate you all. The fact that this story has already made it into the top ten of faves and follows of all my fics is kinda surreal, ngl. Let me know what you liked about the story, drop off constructive criticism, or just say hi! It really does all brighten my day.

But, yes, two years of training have passed, so we can get into testing for the Demon Slayer Corps! The idea that they can gather low-level demons for Final Selection but Urokodaki doesn't have Tanjirō fight an actual demon before sending him off to test kinda makes zero fucking sense to be, so I made Kuwajima have a different final training task other than cutting a boulder in half. Stay tuned for more of me bitching about logical inconsistencies in the structure of the Demon Slayer Corps as the story continues.

And now for that thing I wanted to do last chapter but forgot: It's time for a Taishō Era Secret! While he doesn't show it much outwardly, Kuwajima has become rather attached to his proteges (whom I have dubbed the "Thunder Trio" for ease of convenience) over the past few years, which is why he trains them so hard so they can survive as Demon Slayers in the future. He was secretly hoping for Rairi and Kaigaku to pick up Zenitsu's habit of calling him "Jī-chan," but it never happened.

Next Time: Traveling everywhere on foot kinda sucks, Final Selection begins, and a pretty girl appears. Please look forward to it!

-Avi

[01.30.2021]