The next few days flew by, and Takeshi was barely able to catch his breath before it was nearly time for his departure. Kazuo spent long hours at the anvil, tirelessly trying to find a solution for the intense heat that Takeshi generated when using his Infinity Art, if his sword could not hold up for the seven-day-long trial, it could mean death. Takeshi spent most of his time practicing his techniques, trying to perfect every tiny detail of his exception. Kazuo watched and was quick to point out any missteps or incongruencies, though even he had to admit that they were few and far between. In addition to the five flame-breathing techniques, Takeshi began to practice Eternal Fire, the technique he had miraculously used in his last battle. Kazuo was still puzzled by this technique, he had never seen swordplay quite like it before, especially not associated with flame breathing.
"Well, I'm no master swordsmith," The old man said, holding out a newly forged sword to Takeshi,
"But maybe this one will at least hold enough integrity to make it through final selection, just maybe try not to use that weird form too many times in a row. Mix in some old-fashioned stuff for your old master would you?" Kazuo smiled, the moment was bittersweet, though the two were confident they would see each other again.
"I will. Any demon that crosses my path will be sorry! I'll fight them with my bare hands if I have to!" Takeshi said, a mischievous smile passing over his face, his eyes brightened in the sunlight.
"Right. Let's just hope it doesn't come to that," Kazuo said, rustling the boy's hair and chuckling to himself.
"Takeshi, I've set aside a knapsack for you. It contains a variety of things you may need on your journey, plus a little something extra to keep you motivated," at the sound of that, Takeshi perked up.
"I suggest you not ruin the surprise until you're well on your way, don't want it losing its effect so early," the old man said, his long platinum hair tossing around in the mountain winds. Takeshi thought about saying something but was quickly stopped by Kazuo.
"You will depart at sunrise tomorrow, your destination is about a day and a half's journey
from here. Use your resources wisely and be sure to conserve energy for your time at Final Selection," Takeshi was trying desperately to keep up with all the advice.
"One more thing, young Yoshiaki. Above all else, please stay alive, I must see you in one piece or I will not be at rest. Though you may feel motivated right now, just know that what you've been through will take its toll on you, and you may start to lose your sense of self-preservation. Take care of yourself, Takeshi, protect yourself, never lose that blaze that burns inside you," Takeshi matched the old man's grave expression. He knew how much this meant to Takahashi.
"Also, who will cut down all these beautiful cherry blossoms just when they start to look beautiful? I know you won't miss that opportunity," Kazuo said, playfully pushing Takeshi.
He really won't let me live that down will he? It's so embarrassing. Takeshi thought to himself, though he appreciated the lightening of the mood. He laughed and looked up at his master in his one good eye.
"Maybe I'll have some new type of ancient sword skills to cut 10 down at once!" Takeshi fired back, smiling his signature smile.
"Plus when your brittle sword inevitably breaks on me again I'll need to personally come by and make you fix it," Takeshi added, enjoying the banter.
"Oh? Is that so? Then I have nothing to worry about, my nerves are calmed," Kazuo said, turning back towards the cave.
"It's getting late Takeshi, you must rest before your long journey, put that sword away before you feel the urge to cut down those saplings," Kazuo called back to the young swordsman, getting the last laugh.
Takeshi took a deep breath and sheathed his sword, taking one last long look at the beautiful mountainside he had spent nearly seven months atop now. He felt thankful, he felt strong, he felt ready. He watched the final spindles of light creep behind the horizon, and turned towards the cave, eager to wake up and take the next step.
After a near restless night, the sun began to rise, and Takeshi was already wide awake. He swiftly gathered his sword, smoothly equipping it at his waist, pulling his blue and gold kimono over his shoulders. He took one long look at the fabric and clenched his teeth, though it had been nearly a week's time, the loss of his family still felt fresh. He reached beside his mattress and produced his temari and a sealed letter, slipping the temari into the knapsack. He took the letter and placed it on a flat rock that Kazuo used as a table, the old man's name written on the envelope in Takeshi's messy handwriting. He imagined his master's face when he read it, smiling to himself as he stepped into the crisp morning air. He took a deep breath, he knew the next few steps he took were some of the most important steps he would ever face. He stood, frozen for what felt like days, feeling the gravity of the situation, all his burdens beginning to make themselves known. His trance was broken by the gentle coo of the mourning dove, it was as if the bird could feel his anxiety, he looked up at the bird and smiled. Takeshi took the first step, then the next, hitting his stride as he started his way across the mountain.
His pace was brisk, masterfully controlling his breathing, he felt fresh and energized. He kept his eyes on the trees, listening to the gentle sounds of nature, absorbing the calm that he knew would not last much longer. His mind would often drift to unpleasant places, the silence proving too much time to ruminate. He would picture the haunting eyes of Okazaki, emerging from the dark treeline, his bloodstained mouth taunting him with a cruel smile. He shook his head, bringing his breathing back and steadying his pace. He knew he could not suffer these types of lapses against a tough opponent, he would need every ounce of concentration to fight effectively.
I've only ever used the Infinity Art when I'm able to calm my mind, Takeshi thought to himself, stepping over a small stream that babbled down the mountainside. I need to follow Master Takahashi's word and use it sparingly, I still haven't mastered it and I still have no idea what this sword is capable of, or what I'm capable of for that matter.
He kept pressing forward for hours, passing overlooks, mountain streams, and lately, Wisteria. As the sun began to fall, Takeshi became more and more aware of the increasing purple glow lighting his way, he barely needed to dilate his pupils. Wisteria trees, the same color as Kazuo's lanterns, lined the path, giving off a pleasant sweet smell. Such a pretty scene for something so infamous and violent, Takeshi thought, catching a petal as it fell.
Eventually, he found himself in a clearing, he knew he must have found his destination as there was a mass of people gathered around an altar. The people nearest him turned briefly to look at him, then returned to their own matters as if he had never been there to begin with. He looked around to see a wide variety of young swordsmen and women, some looking overwhelmingly strong, others as though they might crumble. He was surprised at the ages of many of the participants, some appearing much younger than he was while some looked as though they were fully matured. He couldn't help but think about how he might match up against the other slayers, he wondered if his training would be enough.
Seeming as good a time as any, Takeshi opened his knapsack and pulled out the carefully wrapped package that Kazuo had mentioned before he left. He shook it slightly, curious as to what could be inside that made his master so excited to share it with him. As he started to unwrap it, the realization dawned upon him at the first whiff of the scent… Dorayaki, just like the kind that his father would bring home to him. He stared at the treats, awestruck, every emotion hitting him simultaneously. His eyes began to moisten, picturing his father's gentle smile, he was always so happy to watch Takeshi enjoy the treats he brought home. He fought back tears as he quietly ate the dorayaki aside, observing the participants and taking in the overall feeling of anxiety and anticipation. There must have been 40 or more of them.
"Enough to share?" A voice said suddenly. Takeshi startled, dropping an uneaten confection in the process. A figure swiftly caught the dorayaki and straightened up in front of him, taking a bite.
"Slightly bland, texture's soft, like those clouds this morning… What are they called again?" The boy said, Takeshi still a bit taken aback by his sudden entrance. The boy stood much shorter than Takeshi, though he must have been at least 2 years younger than he was. His long black hair trailed off into a mint color towards the tips, his eyes a similar color, staring at him with a near expressionless look.
"My… master made them for me, he sent them with me for the journey. You can have another if you like," Takeshi said slowly, still observing the boy.
"I'll pass, best to keep light before the ceremony. Goodbye," just like that, the boy began to walk away in a measured but apathetic way.
"My name's Takeshi! What's yours?!" Takeshi yelled after him, but the boy just kept walking. Takeshi never was great at social interactions, but he wasn't sure what he could have done differently with that one. He decided to shake it off and follow the other participants in gathering around the central platform. Two short figures walked out onto the platform, one with short black hair that came down just before their shoulders, the other's similar but white in color. Each had a wisteria flower-adorned in their hair, they took their positions side by side in between two lanterns.
"Good evening, young swordsmen and women," they both said in an eerie but soothing harmony.
"If you are standing before us, it means you have readied yourself to take on the last hurdle to becoming a demon slayer, your Final Selection," Takeshi's heart skipped a beat.
"Should you survive the seven days and seven nights, you will be awarded a slayer's Nichirin sword, along with your very own Kasugai crow, and a rank amongst the Demon Slayer Corps. But this will not be an easy feat, many of you will die," the two figures said, an audible silence observed amongst the crowd of young participants.
"Beyond this area of Mount Fujikasane where the wisteria blooms, demons lurk in the shadows, it will take your expertise and perseverance to survive and cut your way to victory, we wish you the best of luck young Demon Slayers, your final selection begins… Now."