His skin seared with pain, the cool water contrasting the unsettling warmth of his hands as Kazuo tended to Takeshi's burns. The two sat in silence inside the cave, neither having said a word since they had escaped their encounter with Okazaki.
"Your skin can only take so much, Takeshi," Kazuo said, shaking his head as he wrung out the rag. "I've never seen anything like it, the blue flames, the state you enter, it's as if it was ingrained in you waiting to be released."
Takeshi stared forward, his entire body feeling numb though he was not in pain.
"I don't know how I do it," he said, barely above a whisper. "Whenever I get emotional it's like a wave of energy crashes over me and I become something foreign. I'm still me, I still am in control, but it's like I'm using a power that's not my own, it comes from somewhere else."
The old man looked over at his Tsuguko's blade, everything except the tsuba was charred beyond repair, the edge now chipped into little pieces.
"Mr. Takahashi, is there another art of flame breathing?" Takeshi asked suddenly. "The blue flames, the forms, they aren't what you taught me, they're different. They seem to be associated with some sort of lost art, it's like I know the abilities in my body but not in my head."
The old man shook his head, meeting his gaze.
"Perhaps that burn on your chest is indeed more than it seems," the old man said, gesturing to the mark of the serpent. "I am not aware of another art, my boy, I am sorry. But what I do know is that flame breathing has always been a strong basis among breathing styles, it would not surprise me to find out that it branched out at one point. As far as how you know them, I haven't the slightest idea how that is possible."
His heart sank, he was hoping there would be some explanation as to what was happening to him. He was afraid of his ability, worried that this uncharted territory could push him too far, over an edge he couldn't climb back onto. Takeshi took a deep breath, anxious to ask his next question as he was unsure how Kazuo would react.
"That thing, do you really think it was your brother?" Takeshi asked, his eyes darting to the floor. Kazuo did not skip a beat, continuing to clean the burns gingerly.
"At one time, yes, I do think that was my brother. But what we encountered tonight was far from humanity, Takeshi," Kazuo said quicker than Takeshi had thought he would have,
"The human trapped in that demon's body has encountered so much suffering, and unfortunately has inflicted even more. I need to exorcise it from this world, release its spirit in peace, and stop its reign of terror," the old man rested a hand on Takeshi's shoulder.
"That demon will pay for what he took from you, do you hear me?" Kazuo gripped the shoulder tight, Takeshi looking up with tears beginning to grow in his eyes once again.
"I know how you feel, how you felt in that moment. You felt helpless, the enemy was on one plane and you on another. That is why you must grow stronger, and rise to the occasion. Takeshi, I want you to take on the final selection, I want you to become a Demon Slayer."
Takeshi's heart skipped, he knew the old man was right, and he could feel the words resonating down to his bones. He felt strange, he had nothing more to lose, but he had everything to fight for. He gripped the temari ball tightly in his hands and gritted his teeth.
"You have tremendous ability, young Yoshiaki," Kazuo said firmly.
"You have inspired me every day with your pure soul and strong heart, no matter what plagues you, it never discourages you. Your fighting spirit is unbreakable, you would make a fantastic swordsman, and somehow I know that you feel the same way. You want to be more to this world, so you must grab life by the reigns and take that step," Kazuo said, his voice rising in intensity as he grabbed both of Takeshi's shoulders.
"You have unique gifts, Takeshi, you are truly special. You must not let them go to waste, use your anger and sorrow, and drive yourself to achieve more. Use your strength to protect others that were in your shoes, save us from the fate that you so narrowly dodged."
Takeshi was now standing, his blue eyes glowing in the dimly lit cave, his hair standing on end. He felt his strength flowing through his body, his veins felt alive and warm, chaos coursing through his system. He dried his eyes and met Takahashi's gaze. The old man was astounded, what gazed at him was not the face of that young boy whom he had protected that day in the town square, but the hardened face of a warrior, a burning blaze in his eyes as he could feel the boy's skin almost vibrating with energy.
"If I must fight, then I will fight to the bitter end," Takeshi finally said, his voice sounding mature and measured.
"If my strength is the barrier between chaos and order, life and death, demons and humans, then I will stop at nothing to expend it until it runs dry. I lost everything tonight, I have every right to collapse and close my eyes, to long for death until I eventually wither away. But curiously, I feel nothing but an endless, burning, fire. I will meet my potential, I will see my life through to the end, and I will save my family's memory. It is only fair."
Takeshi gripped his broken sword in one hand, pulling the unscathed tsuba from the blade and gripping it tightly.
"Tonight, I vow that no one shall experience the pain I now feel. No one will lose what I lost, anything that stands in my way will meet its demise courtesy of blue fire," Takeshi stood tall, his voice slowly growing louder as his eyes were bright with emotion.
"Tonight! I forge a new blade. Tomorrow! I make my way to final selection. Soon! I will conquer the challenge and become stronger than any demon can imagine!"
Kazuo couldn't help but smile, no matter how valiant Takeshi spoke, he couldn't help but see that bright-eyed boy filled with wonder. His attitude never wavered, he took everything head-on. He loved that about him, his effort and drive were contagious, and he felt lucky to have experienced such a child.
"Quite some lofty goals my boy," Takahashi said, ruffling the boy's hair. "Never lose that fire inside of you kid, I promise if you keep your head up and stay true to who you are, who Takeshi is, you'll never cease to meet your goals."
Kazuo's touch and gentle tone softened Takeshi, and he suddenly felt his fatigue and pain from his wounds return. He suddenly grabbed the master and pulled him into a tight embrace.
"Thank you, master, for allowing me another chance, I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for your intervention," Takeshi said in a much quieter tone, returning to his senses.
"Do not thank me, never thank me, Takeshi. I'd gladly lay my life down for yours. My time in this world nears its completion, you still have a lot of things left on your plate. The world needs you to live." Kazuo matched Takeshi's embrace.
"That demon was a member of the twelve kizuki, a group of the strongest demons who are the closest to their master in terms of power. He was rank 4, we've made a powerful enemy I'm afraid," Takahashi said gravely.
Though he should've been, Takeshi was not afraid, he couldn't help but look forward to the road ahead of him. He wanted to heal quickly and test his strength once more at Final Selection. He now had a greater purpose, his life had meaning beyond temari balls and town life, and he had an occasion to rise to.
"I've decided I no longer feel fear," Takeshi said, "Demons will come to fear me, not the other way around."
Kazuo smiled again, this new courage from Takeshi was both promising and amusing. He was still so young at heart.
"I won't bet against you, but what I will bet is that you're exhausted and I doubt any amount of blue flames and bold words can solve a lack of rest," the old man gestured towards Takeshi's mattress.
"Get some rest, and tomorrow we'll work on tempering a new sword for you. We'll put the final polish on both you and your weapon before I send you off to Mount Fujikasane," Kazuo said, "You'll need every edge you can get to survive final selection, it will be difficult but I have no doubt you can do it, Takeshi."
It felt good to have someone who believed in him like Kazuo did, Takeshi's heart beamed at the praise and it made him all the eager to work harder. He climbed under the blanket and closed his eyes, trying to calm his mind for sleep, slowing his breathing down. It didn't take long, his body was beyond exhausted from the battle, and he found himself slipping into a dream. He dreamed of a mountainside, wind whistling through blooming cherry blossoms, a light mist hanging about the area. The coo of mourning doves echoed in his ears as he looked down to find the gold and blue temari in his hands. To his surprise, the temari began to unravel, blowing away in the wind, the tendrils of fabric dancing in the air as he let it fly away. It was a pleasant scene, Takeshi took a deep breath in and smelled the sweet scent of wisteria and cherry blossoms. As he exhaled, his breath was engulfed in blue flames, the ribbons of the termari weaving themselves into a serpent, twirling faster and faster in a circular motion. Takeshi watched as the serpent drew closer, its movements also graced with blue flames and the sound of burning. Without warning, the serpent lunged at Takeshi, diving into his chest and causing him to inhale sharply. His body slowly filled with an intense heat, though it was not painful. He smiled and looked down to see the faint blue glow his body emitted. He looked up one last time at the sky, now adorned by a full moon, and heard a mourning dove coo in the distance. He took a deep breath in, clenched his fists, and jumped from the mountainside without a moment's hesitation.