For days, they trekked through the increasingly steep terrain, miles passing every time Takeshi blinked. He wasn't sure what he expected exactly, knowing that Kiigawa was quite a ways away considering how Kazuo had described his journey. What he did not expect was the journey to take place both during the day and throughout the night, only stopping occasionally to drink from streams or relieve themselves. Takeshi had imagined setting up a camp, sitting by a fire, listening to tales from his new master's days of youth and greatest strength, instead the old man simply lit a lantern at sundown and continued to move along. He never slowed once, never stumbled, never even took a breath from his mouth, his movements were trained and in a way, beautiful. Takeshi was always known for having a surplus of energy, but even he started to dwindle as the trip wore on. He went from juggling his temari, whistling at birds, and looking forward to all he might learn, to now dragging his feet, looking at the ground, and worst of all, missing his home. Takeshi had never been away from home, he had never even been away from his mother for longer than it took her to buy firewood at the market. Now he marched 3 days away from his hometown ascending a mountain that felt like it might never end. He wanted to ask for a break, or maybe even some time to sleep, but he was intimidated by the will of Takahashi. Though the old man had always been kind to him, he could sense great strength and past violence in the man, he thought it best just to continue. He watched as the purplish glow of the lantern danced in the darkness, smelling like smoke mixed with something floral and sweet. He'd never seen a fire like that before and had never even thought to ask why it was used in favor of a regular lantern.
Maybe it's his favorite color? Takeshi thought to himself, maybe he likes the smell of it? Maybe he doesn't know what a lantern is supposed to look like because he only has one good eye. But what if… what if it's to keep something away? Takeshi shuddered at the thought, pushing it away from his mind, the last thing he wanted to think about was something stalking them in the night.
Two more hours passed, and the sun began to once again peek out over the horizon as the forest continued to get dense. Just as he thought his feet might be nothing more than bones, he saw a faint purple light in the distance. Suddenly feeling rejuvenated, he hurried his pace closer to Kazuo's, eager to see what lay ahead. He noticed that past the light, there were no trees, only what looked like clouds.
How could that be? A cloud in the middle of the forest? And where did all the trees go? He wondered, his face making a very pronounced frown as he tried to understand. All of a sudden, the forest opened wide, the dense foliage turning into a bright granite underneath their feet. Takeshi could not believe what he saw, he almost dropped the temari he had been haphazardly clutching. In front of him, was the opening of a cliff face, with a visibility of what felt like infinity, beautiful valleys, and snowy peaks were visible, the two extremes.
"We have arrived," Master Takahashi said, the first words he had spoken in hours. Takeshi was still in shock, he looked around to find a small bamboo shack, and to his surprise, he saw what looked to be an opening to a large cave.
"I can't believe it, it's beautiful," he said, glancing over at his master. "This must be the whole world! And I get to look at all of it!"
Kazuo smiled, taking a deep breath of the cool mountain air. He rustled Takeshi's hair and gestured toward the opening.
"You'll have plenty of time to lose yourself in the view, young Yoshiaki, For now, I know you must be tired, let us get situated," Takahashi said, turning towards the cave. Takeshi was confused, why in the world would someone want to live in a cave if they had this breathtaking view so close to them? He stepped into the cave and felt the moist, cool air hit him at once. It was drastically different from what he felt at the cliff, his eyes still adjusting and trying to adapt to his new surroundings. He bumped into the walls, feeling his way along them, the only light source being the faint purple glow which he now realized were more of the lanterns that Kazuo had used on their journey. Kazuo moved quickly through the cave, dodging jagged rocks and uneven steps with ease, he even set down his lantern and bag on a protruding rock that Takeshi had not even seen, being too dark to discern.
"Master Takahashi," Takeshi said in a perplexed tone, "Why did you choose to live in the cave when you have such a spectacular site out there? Does it not make sense to live in the sun and take in all the world has to offer? I don't get it."
Kazuo once again smiled, even though Takeshi could not see it.
"My boy, you are naive to think that all the world has to offer lies in the light," he said as he carefully placed his sword on a rack that had been fabricated in stone. "To truly take in all the world has to offer, you must create balance. Being able to appreciate both the light and the dark, the warm and cold, the cliff and the cave, will make you a complete spirit. You need the beauty and rejuvenation of the view, and the stability and protection of the cave to truly take advantage of your surroundings."
Takeshi still didn't understand, but like with the pond situation, he simply nodded his head and sat down next to the master.
"Also, what are those… lant-... lanterns… Master…" Takeshi said through a barrage of yawns. "Do you like… the… pur-" Before he could ask about the color, Takeshi was drifting to sleep, the soft floor mattress proved to be too much to withstand. The last thing he remembered hearing was the name of a flower, but he figured he must have already been dreaming at that point. After all, the fire could do nothing but destroy and burn, what would a flower have to do with that? Kazuo cut himself off, and smiled at the sight of his exhausted Tsuguko, covering him up in a clean blanket, and deciding that it would soon be time to join him in rest.
Steam burned his throat as he woke abruptly, making his eyes water as he tried to get his bearings. Takeshi found himself in a small bamboo room, a bed of rocks in one corner of the room was billowing thick clouds of steam, he'd never sweated this much in his entire life.
Where am I? He thought to himself, still in shock at the sudden turn of events. Was I so tired that I didn't notice that I was moved? Did Mr. Takahashi put me here? All that he could think about was his difficulty breathing, the air feeling heavy and thick, and he started to panic. He found the door to the small room and made a move toward it, surprised at how weak his movements were. The heat combined with his leftover exhaustion made it difficult to stand, but eventually, he stumbled his way to the handle, finally able to free himself. He squinted as he exited the shack, the sunlight blinding him as he felt the cool granite under his feet. He coughed violently, feeling as if he may still pass out, he had overheated and nearly reached his breaking point. Takeshi scanned his surroundings for any sight of Kazuo, eventually spotting the old man looking back at him from, of all places, a wooden tub where he was submerged up to his shoulders.
"You conquered the cold, now you must learn to deal with the inverse," he said dryly, gesturing to an identical tub to his right. "And then, you will conquer them together, that is your first step of training."
So it was Kazuo… he put me in that sauna while I slept. Takeshi thought, trying to make it all make sense once again. Does he want me to soak in cold water again? After such extreme heat? How much can my body take?
He stumbled his way over to the tub, removing his kimono and testing the water with his hand. It was colder than the pond, but how?
"This water comes from the peak of Mount Kiigawa, it is just a few degrees from being snow," the master said as if he could read Takeshi's thoughts. "Now that I think about it, this probably was snow a few hours ago, perfect for you to cool off and rehydrate."
Remembering what he had learned, Takeshi plunged into the water in one fluid motion, submerging most of his body instantly in the crystal-clear water. His body was shocked to the core, the extreme change in temperature caused his lungs to seize up, making it hard to force a breath in. Takeshi first started to panic, but after a few minutes, he was able to recover and employ basic Total Concentration Breathing to bring his body back to a normal state.
"Improvement already? You have lots of work to do, Young Yoshiaki, but you should be proud of how well you've taken this first step," Kazuo said firmly. "Total Concentration Breathing is not just for sitting in cold water, as I'm sure you were able to figure out by now. It induces a state of heightened awareness and opens your body to use its full potential, a very useful tool for anyone, but especially a swordsman."
Takeshi furrowed his brow, he couldn't understand just yet, how could his breathing have anything to do with being able to do what Kazuo could? He recalled the night in Jiaojiang where he had drawn his sword, dazzling him with fire and masterful precision.
"Takeshi, what is it I told you that you are training for? Do you remember?" Takahashi said, in a calm but serious voice.
"To be ready for what comes my way, and to protect what I care most about, for my mother and father!" Takeshi said, feeling a twinge in his chest at the thought of his family. He missed them already.
"You are right, very right my boy," Kazuo said, looking into the distance. "It is my promise to you that I will train you to be comfortable in discomfort, to be ready in any situation that may be known as unfavorable. I'm going to show you how to use the dark side of life to bring you to the light once again. You must know that to do so, you will face much adversity and discomfort, but I am certain you are strong enough. To succeed, you must be like Ouroboros, understanding the cycle of the world and knowing that there is always a way to get upright once again, do you understand?"
He really drives this Ouroboros stuff home… Takeshi thought, picturing the spinning top adorned with the serpent. I trust him, I am strong, I can do this… You can do this, Takeshi!
"Yes, I understand, sir!" Takeshi responded powerfully, "I'm ready to do whatever it takes, I will sit in the sauna all day if I have to!" He hoped that would not be the case.
"Very well then, prepare for your first assignment," Kazuo said, knowing he could count on Takeshi's enthusiasm. "Until the sun sets, you will go back and forth between the sauna and this tub, focus on your breathing, and become comfortable in your discomfort. If you can get used to discomfort and the management of extremes, you will have a tremendous advantage in any situation."
So, for hours Takeshi swapped from the sauna to the tub, using an hourglass to tell him how long to spend in each extreme. Kazuo brought him food and water at regular intervals, always in tune with the extreme he was in. His rice was blazing hot, along with his tea which was nearly boiling as he sat in the sauna. For the next six days, Takeshi woke up and went back and forth until sunset, when he was usually so tired that he immediately collapsed to sleep. On the sixth day, as he exited the sauna, he was struck in the chest by a piece of wood.
"Very good Takeshi, now we will learn the basics of swordsmanship," Kazuo said, holding a wooden katana to Takeshi's chest. The old man gestured him over to the shade of a large cherry blossom tree, the tree must have been centuries old. That afternoon, Takeshi learned basic stances, strikes, defense, and movement, but one thing seemed to always come back up.
"Total Concentration is what separates a good swordsman from a warrior," Kazuo said with a hint of arrogance in his voice. "Though you may not realize it, you have mastered one of the most difficult aspects of swordsmanship already, your base is already built, young Yoshiaki."
"Mr. Takahashi, I've never even held a sword before," Takeshi said, puzzled.
"Focus on your breathing, young one, what do you notice?" It was then that it dawned on him, the breathing from both the sauna and the ice bath, he had never stopped it. What used to be such a taxing exercise had now just become second nature, and he suddenly felt very proud of himself.
"Total Concentration Constant is something that takes some trainees years to master, but your determination will make you an easily shaped student Takeshi, that's one of the things I admire in you," Kazuo said, realizing the effect praise had on his young Tsuguko and using it perfectly. The two then spent the next few days training under the shade of the cherry blossom tree, sometimes holding stances or carrying out drills for hours straight. Another important aspect of the training was learning from a tome Kazuo referred to only as "the book of Flame Breathing" which sounded like a made-up title to Takeshi. For hours, Takeshi would sit and study the ancient teachings in the book, guided by Takahashi. He practiced the five core forms endlessly, slowly feeling himself getting sharper.
Inhale… Total Concentration… Flame Breathing… First form… Unknowing fire!
Takeshi swung his sword and nearly knocked himself off balance, repeating the order. He saw little to no progress, but it would take more than slow training days to deter his spirit. After training the five forms for nearly a week, Kazuo approached him with a calculated look in his eye.
"You are making progress, Takeshi, even if you cannot see or feel it, you have to trust it," he said reassuringly. "It is time for your second assignment, upon completion you will move to the next section of training." Takeshi smiled eagerly, waiting to hear of some flamboyant and impressive test that he would have to pass.
"All you must do is cut a falling cherry blossom petal in half and bring it to me, only then will I know you can continue," Kazuo said, smiling and beginning to turn away.
"Wait! Takeshi cried out confusedly, "How is that even possible? They dodge the blade when I get close, not to mention this sword is made of blunt wood." Kazuo didn't say a word as he grabbed the wooden sword, closed his eyes, and inhaled sharply. Before Takeshi could blink, a petal fell gently from the tree, pushed by the wind as it flipped and turned toward the ground. A wall of air blasted in his face, as a flash of red light filled his now closed eyes. When he opened them, Kazuo was holding a petal in his hand, surgically cut with precision that seemed impossible. Takeshi could do nothing but stare.
"Sometimes, the most obvious approach is the best approach," he said in a calm tone. "To chop down a tree, you do nothing but swing over and over again, you know it will always be there awaiting your strike. But when striking something with free will, you must adapt to account for its reality as well."
In a flash, Takahashi sheathed the wooden katana and turned away, just as he took a couple of steps, Takeshi stopped him.
"Mr. Takahashi…" he said nervously, "why do you… I mean, why did you fight? What reason did you have to become a swordsman? What foe could require this much skill and power? I don't understand." For some reason, he began to feel tears in his eyes, he became painfully aware of how sore his muscles were, his heart ached just as badly, and he missed his home fiercely.
Kazuo stopped abruptly, the harshest movement Takeshi had ever witnessed from the old man.
"You deserve to know Takeshi, You have my apologies, I have not been very transparent with you," he said solemnly. "Those forms, the breathing techniques, the tome of flame breathing, it was all written by ancient members of the Demon Slayer Corps."
Takeshi took a step back as if the information had struck him physically.
"Demons?" he asked quickly, "They… they're real? I thought they were a folktale, mother always used them as a way to make me eat foods I didn't like, I never feared them."
"My job is to make sure it stays that way," Kazuo said, his voice wavering ever so slightly. "Demons are horrific and ruthless creatures Takeshi, They may resemble human beings but I assure you, there is no rationality left in them," he said, now turning towards the young Tsuguko.
"I know firsthand, I have encountered hundreds of them in my lifetime, I am a former Hashira, the highest rank in the Demon Slayer corps," he said, looking into Takeshi's deep blue eyes.
A Demon Slayer? That's why he is so strong, he's teaching me swordsman techniques from the Corps? It all makes sense now, Takeshi thought to himself, meeting the swordsman's eyes.
"To answer your real question, as to why I picked up the sword, I'm afraid it is not such a cheerful story, young Yoshiaki," Kazuo said, his voice once again wavering. "I wish I could tell you a tale like yours, that I wanted to become a swordsman to protect who I loved, but I'm afraid I never had the chance."
Kazuo sat down, crossing his legs and taking in a deep breath. Takeshi matched his posture.
"When I was young, I never knew my parents, it was always just me and my older brother, Kuramoto," the old master said in a soft tone, Takeshi had to listen hard to catch what he was saying. "She always protected me, raised me better than anyone could have at his young age, I owe my life to him. We lived on the outskirts of a major city, to get by, we made long trips out into the forest to gather wild mushrooms and herbs to sell within the city, it wasn't much but we were just happy to be alive," Takahashi now shifted his gaze towards the ground.
"One day, when I was no more than 10 years old, we encountered a demon in the forest, a weak one, it was feasting on a young woman, she must have lost her way," he continued in an emotionless tone, "my brother immediately pushed me behind him, blocking my vision of the demon and telling it to leave us alone, if only that foul beast had but a little humanity left, it may have realized just how helpless we were. It lunged at us, and before I knew it, Kuramoto had tossed me aside and braced himself against the demon, Kazuo flinched before he spoke, "I watched as the demon sank its teeth into my brother's arm, I heard his cries, I couldn't move, I was terrified. I looked to the ground and saw my brother's hatchet, The demon was occupied and I could have launched an attack," Kazuo said, shifting uncomfortably.
"But what I did, I will regret until the day I pass on," he said, clenching his jaws. "I turned and ran, I was weak, I chose to save myself and left my brother to die. I hear his cries for help, his curses of my name to this day. And to think, I had a chance to help him and instead, I chose to save my own neck." The old man's eyes began to moisten, Takeshi didn't know whether to chime in or stay silent.
"The demon still caught up to me, and after 5 minutes of running, it grabbed me from behind. It called me a coward, laughing at my uselessness, I braced for death and felt as though I deserved it," he said, now clenching the fabric of his kimono tightly. "In a flash, the demon was flung from his grasp, I now stared at his head, looking just as shocked as I was. A demon slayer had saved me, I still to this day sometimes wish he had let me die for what I did."
"I became a swordsman because I felt like I had no options, I wanted to avenge my brother and make the demons pay for making me feel so helpless, I wanted to prove that I could be strong and brave like Kuramoto," Kazuo's voice broke as he said his brother's name. "I see a lot of him in you Takeshi, your passion, kindness, and willingness to devote yourself to a cause even if it has no benefit for you, it all feels like him," he said, now meeting his watery eyes. "I wanted to show you what I never had the chance to show him, I am sorry if it feels like I misled you Takeshi, you will never know how grateful I am that you allowed me to teach you."
Takeshi's eyes shimmered in the light, he felt an uncontrollable wave of emotions.
"You're not weak Mr. Takahashi!," Takeshi said, so loudly and abruptly that it made the old man startle. "You are kind and strong, you learned from your young mistakes and became legendary! You helped me, and my mother when we needed it, you never accepted any payment and now you train me purely out of the greatness of your soul. Kuramoto would be proud to see the person you are now, forgiveness is what family is for Mr. Takahashi! My mother said so! You can ask her!" he said, standing up and clutching his sword.
"It's not fair! You were put in a spot where you felt hopeless, You tried to make the most of your life but the world still tried to take it from you!" Takeshi gripped the sword so tightly that it felt like the veins in his hands might burst from the pressure. "It's not fair! It's not fair! IT'S NOT-"
The wooden sword erupted in a blaze of blue flames, the inferno lighting up the evening sky as if it were midday. Takeshi's eyes burned a bright blue, matching the blaze, Kazuo stumbled backward frightened by the display. Takeshi brought the sword back, gripping it with both hands despite the flames climbing their way up his arms. He stood tall, rooted to the ground with a stance stronger than his body should have allowed, Kazuo watched in awe as the muscles in his whole body tensed. In a flash, a blinding blue light filled the air, blinding the old master as a wave of gale-force winds knocked him back down to the ground. He heard the creaking of wood, and instinctively dodged far to the left, avoiding the crash of something heavy hitting the ground where he had been. As the cloud of smoke began to clear, Kazuo was able to spot a figure in the middle of the chaos. Takeshi stood, his training clothes in ashes, his arms covered in burns. His breathing was labored, and the wooden sword lay in pieces on the ground next to him. It was then that Kazuo realized what the boy was facing, he gasped in disbelief. The stump of a tree sat smoldering in front of Takeshi, a surgically clean cut straight through it was visible, still glowing and smoldering. Takeshi took a deep breath and turned to face Kazuo. In an instant, the hardened face of rage turned back into the look of a scared teenage boy, tears welling in his eyes.
"Master Takahashi I'm… I'm so sorry…" Before he could say more, the boy's legs buckled and he fell quickly to the ground. Takahashi was there in an instant, grabbing Takeshi and pulling him into his arms.
"Do not be sorry my boy," he said, tears now falling from his face as well. "Your emotions had been stored for far too long, I knew this was possible, you and Kuramoto are alike in that regard too."
Takeshi sniffled, looking at the fallen tree and the ash that fell from the sky.
"That tree was so beautiful… It didn't have to die," he said, crying harder as he progressed his sentence, the realization set in further.
"Now, it will become even more beautiful," Kazuo said, looking Takeshi in the eyes. "In the wake of this, will sprout even more life, young Yoshiaki, you spurred the creation of a whole new generation. Do not grieve for this tree, it was old and had nothing more to give, Instead look forward to the prosperous future you have created."
"You now understand Takeshi, fire is more than just destruction and death, it is also rebirth and life, now you see both sides of the cycle. You have circled from the depths to the peak, you have witnessed the cycle of Ouroboros," Kazuo said, regaining his proud posture.
Takeshi took a long, labored breath, and then let it out. His arms felt like they might disintegrate into ash, whatever he had done took its toll on his body.
"You must rest now my boy, We can talk more about old legends and more importantly, the significance and magnitude of your power tomorrow," Kazuo said brightly, losing all traces of tears in an instant. "Let's see to your burns, it even looks like you've gotten yourself quite the scar on your chest there, How peculiar."
Takeshi looked down and gasped, he had not even noticed the state of his chest until now. In a different shade than any of the other wounds, was a dark circular mark, which even more curiously, looked as though it was already healed. Squinting, he noticed the circle had a head, and a tail, no, the head was biting the tail.
That snake again? It really is everywhere, isn't it? Takeshi thought to himself. Maybe the old man is on to something.
The old master scooped his pupil up with strength beyond his years, as they made their way back to the cave, a gorgeous sunset poking its way through the dissipating smog.