Giyuu stood at the entrance of Butterfly Mansion, the night wind rustling his black hair, as if all vitality had been drained from his body, leaving only an empty shell.
When he followed the Kakushi to carry Sabito into Butterfly Mansion, everyone's attention was drawn to the tragic Sabito.
He was left outside the door, able to hear only the boy's pained groans.
So he retreated to the doorway, letting the cold wind dry the blood on his face.
I... have become a despicable person.
Kanzaburo landed on the eaves, about to open his mouth to say something, when Giyuu spoke expressionlessly, "I don't want to hear it."
The aged Kasugai Crow opened and closed his beak, but ultimately did not speak.
Say what? Kanzaburo had just returned from headquarters, bringing, of course, the good news of his promotion.
Slaying a Lower Moon demon, what a great achievement.
He, Tomioka Giyu, Urokodaki's disciple, Sabito and Makomo's fellow student, would join Haruto from Mt. Sagiri among the strongest swordsmen of the Demon Slayer Corps.
But... is this my victory?
This is clearly nailing me to a pillar of shame, a long nail piercing my heart.
Giyuu closed his eyes, his left hand resting on the hilt of his nichirin blade, as if at this moment only the nichirin blade could bring him warmth.
"Clang!"
The white-haired swordsman kicked open the wooden door of Butterfly Mansion with a swagger, emerging with a basin of liquid and a clean towel.
He grabbed Giyuu's shoulder, wringing the towel in the basin: "What are you thinking about?"
"Leave me alone..."
"Slap!"
Before he could finish speaking, the towel, soaked with disinfectant alcohol, slapped Giyuu's face.
The alcohol wiped away the bloodstains, penetrating the wounds, making Giyuu's mouth twitch uncontrollably from the pain.
"Now he looks like a person." After wiping his face, Haruto pulled out the ointment Shinobu had given him from his pocket, scooped out a large amount, and applied it to the wounds.
Giyuu didn't shy away, letting him apply the medicine with a blank face.
"...How is Sabito?" This was his most pressing concern.
Haruto pursed his lips: "His injuries are very serious, but fortunately he was brought in time, and he's out of danger now. Remember when I killed Lower Three? It's similar, he'll need to recuperate for a while."
Giyuu breathed a sigh of relief, his tense shoulders relaxing somewhat.
"Makomo is on her way here. I haven't seen her in a long time either. How about we all have dinner together then?"
The black-haired boy shook his head: "You go... I don't want to see her."
"Are you afraid she doesn't want to see you? Do you feel guilty towards her?"
"Yes."
Haruto shook his head helplessly: "Why would Makomo blame you? You just narrowly escaped death yourself. You've been like siblings since childhood; you and Sabito are like her closest brothers... Even if, even if they're getting along well now and are clearly about to get married, everything in the past is indelible. Giyuu, you are not an outsider, and certainly not a sinner."
Giyuu's deep blue eyes finally showed some fluctuation, his Adam's apple bobbing twice: "I... am not like you."
"..."
Haruto: ╭(°A°`)╮
And then? What's the rest? Is that all?
Even if you can't speak clearly, you should at least finish your sentences!
Haruto tried hard to understand the sentence: "Are you saying that I killed a Lower Moon by my own ability, and you didn't?"
Giyuu nodded faintly: "You think so too, don't you?"
"'Don't you' my ass!"
Haruto's lips twitched a few times, but he ultimately swallowed the curse word: "Anyway... you should go in and see Sabito first. He should still be unconscious right now."
Giyuu nodded, then suddenly frowned and said, "Oh, by the way, there's something strange."
...Mt. Kumotori in Okutama District, Tokyo Prefecture, was the last place Lower Four, Nekomata, appeared.
Giyuu told him that before being slain, Nekomata had no fighting spirit, as if it had found something and wanted to leave the place immediately.
What would a demon want to find?
Haruto narrowed his eyes and rushed to Okutama District that very night.
After circling the village at the foot of the mountain, he asked a shop owner if anyone lived on the mountain.
The owner of that udon shop (it smelled delicious) nodded: "Oh, yes. Mr. Saburo lives in the mountains, but it's at the foot of the mountain."
"Ah, the Kamado Family lives on the mountain, don't they? After all, they fell trees and make charcoal, so living on the mountain would be much more convenient," a passerby replied, stroking his chin.
"The Kamado Family, huh? I heard Tanjuro passed away a while ago. I wonder how those orphans and their mother will manage to live on the mountain."
"The eldest son is only just over ten years old; how will they get by..."
Haruto stood still, his eyebrows already raised: "Tan...juro?"
The name was very similar to Tanjirou, and his family made charcoal.
After thanking the owner and the passerby, he gripped the hilt of his nichirin blade and quickened his pace up the mountain.
The vegetation on Mt. Kumotori was very dense, and in early spring, the white snow on the ground hadn't completely melted, making the path up the mountain muddy.
The higher he went up the mountain, the thicker the fog became. A wooden house was nestled in the center of the fog.
A group of small children crowded boisterously around a bonfire, chattering about something.
"Making charcoal is really not easy!"
"Just follow Dad's notes!"
"Big Brother does it so well!"
"Where did Dad go?"
The noise ceased, and the children fell silent.
The smallest child had a bowl cut, probably only 2 or 3 years old, and was held in the arms of a girl wearing a pink kimono, looking around blankly at his silent older siblings.
The eldest boy, squatting by the bonfire, turned around, ruffled his younger brother's bowl-cut head, his smile incredibly gentle.
"Rokuuta misses Dad? Dad went to a very faraway place. Whenever you miss him, just shout loudly, and he'll hear you no matter where he is."
So the child named Rokuuta shouted at the top of his lungs, his tender childish voice echoing through the mountain forest: "Dad! Dad!"
The children also started shouting. A young woman in a white haori and a white headscar pushed open the wooden door and called out, "Tanjirou?"
"It's nothing, Mother." The boy replied, "It's nothing, everyone is just thinking of Father."
Haruto stood on the mountain path, a slight smile playing on his lips.
Kamado... Tanjirou.
The bullet comments in front of him had already surged.
"Yosh! It's Head Pillar!"
"Young Head Pillar, why not while he's hot..."
"It's the warm and happy Kamado Family, even though they lost their father..."
"Tan-Tan is really so gentle, showing his eldest son demeanor."
"It's young Nezuko! Can I call her my wife now?"
"I think that's a crime."
"Zenitsu thinks no."
Haruto watched with a smile for a while, then suddenly recalled the beginning he had glimpsed.
That was all the content he had in his mind about demon slayer.
It was a snowy, overcast day, and young Tanjirou was trudging along a snowy path, carrying his unconscious sister on his back.
The fresh blood dripping from his sister's head, Tanjirou's desperate face, and his current gentle, smiling profile formed a stark contrast.
What happened later? Where did these children go?
Haruto's brows furrowed. He didn't know.
But all in all... it wouldn't be a good outcome.