Time flies, and heavy snow has once again blocked the mountain pass.
Unbeknownst to many, Giyu Tomioka, the current Water Hashira of the Demon Slayer Corps, has spent a full year at Mount Kumotori.
After 365 days of living together, Lord Water Hashira has completely shed his initial cold and unapproachable aura in this home.
He is less a swordsman staying at a temporary lodging and more a large piece of furniture that is exceptionally handsome, useful, and occasionally moves on its own.
Early morning, on the wooden veranda of the cabin.
Giyu sat upright cross-legged, eyes closed, engaging in his daily, unwavering morning meditation.
However, this scene of spiritual practice, which should have been solemn and dignified, now had an inexplicable sense of absurdity.
On his left arm, seven-year-old Mao clung tightly to his forearm like a little monkey, trying to swing himself up.
On his right thigh, five-year-old Delia was holding onto the hem of his differently colored haori, intently braiding a plait with the loose threads.
Giyu and courage are as steadfast as Mount Tai.
His breathing rhythm didn't falter even for a second, as if the two people hanging on him weren't two living people, but two weightless wisps of air.
"Hey bro with facial paralysis! Take this!"
A loud, arrogant shout came from ahead.
Eight-year-old Takeo somehow made a snowball bigger than his head, and with a flushed face, he hurled it at Giyu's face with all his might.
After a year of "relentless challenges," Takeo was completely outmatched by Giyu in all physical areas, including strength, speed, chopping wood, and carrying water. However, the kid had a mysterious confidence and felt uncomfortable if he didn't ambush Giyu several times a day.
The huge snowball was about to hit Giyu's high nose.
Giyu didn't even open his eyes.
He simply tilted his head slightly.
"Whoosh--"
The snowball grazed past Giyu's ear, bringing with it a gust of cold wind.
... It landed squarely on Tanjiro's face as he came out of the inner room carrying a bowl of hot soup.
Tanjiro, his head and face covered in snow, stood frozen in place, still holding the wooden tray steadily in his hands.
"Takeo..."
Tanjiro wiped the snow off his face. Although his tone remained gentle, the scar on his forehead seemed to exude an air of elder brother authority.
"Ah! Big brother! I didn't mean to! It's all that expressionless guy's fault for dodging!"
Takeo was so frightened that his scalp tingled, and he turned and ran into the snow.
Just then, Giyu, who had been keeping his eyes closed, finally moved.
He didn't get up, but casually stretched out his right hand, which wasn't being held by Mao, and gently dug it into the snow on the ground, giving it a couple of casual squeezes.
"Go."
Giyu parted his thin lips slightly and flicked his wrist gently.
A snowball the size of a fist traced an arc through the air and struck Takeo, who was frantically fleeing, precisely on the back of the head.
"Ouch!"
Takeo plopped down in the snow, getting a mouthful of snow in his mouth.
"Giyu- san is amazing!"
Tanjiro wasn't angry at all; instead, his eyes lit up as he leaned closer, not even bothering to wipe the snow off his face, and pulled out a small notebook from somewhere.
"That snowball seemed to make a curve in the air when it was thrown just now!"
"... Is this also a variation of Water Breathing? Does it utilize the fluid dynamics of wind, or a special technique for generating force through the wrist?"
Faced with Tanjiro's fervent, knowledge-seeking gaze, Giyu remained silent for two seconds.
He couldn't very well say that he honed his aim by hunting pheasants in the mountains a few days ago.
"Sweep the snow."
Giyu pointed to the pile of snow in the yard and uttered two words expressionlessly.
"Sweeping snow?"
Tanjiro paused for a moment, then suddenly realized what he meant and frantically took notes in his notebook.
"I get it! Giyu- san means that by sweeping snow with a broom, you can train your waist and core strength, thereby achieving the highest level of control over hidden weapons! As expected of Giyu -san!"
Watching Tanjiro rush off to grab a broom and frantically sweep the snow like he'd been injected with adrenaline, Giyu silently picked up the cooled teacup beside him and took a sip.
He simply thought the snow in the yard was too thick and a bit of an eyesore.
But this kid always manages to conjure up a perfect logic for cultivation in his own mind, saving me a lot of effort in explaining.
Fine!!
"Big brother, dinner's ready!"
Nezuko, peeked halfway out of the house and waved to him with a smile.
Upon hearing the word "eat," Shigeru and Delia, who were clinging to Giyu, immediately slid off like little mudfish and ran into the house with cheers.
Giyu stood up, brushed the snowflakes off his clothes, and walked into the warm little wooden house.
The atmosphere at the dinner table was as warm and lively as ever.
With a smile, Kie Kamado placed the largest bowl of white rice and a whole salted fish, sizzling with oil, in front of Giyu.
"Mr. Giyu, please eat more."
Kie's voice was so gentle it could melt water.
"It's cold in the mountains these days. You've been chopping so much firewood every day, it must be very tiring. Don't get too thin."
Thank you for your hospitality.
Giyu nodded solemnly and picked up his chopsticks.
Although he was a man of few words and a quiet nature, the Kamado Family had long been accustomed to his personality.
Tanjiro, standing to the side, animatedly recounted his experiences shoveling snow that day.
Takeo ate his rice while glancing sideways at Giyu.
Nezuko would occasionally pick out pieces of meat from her bowl and give them to her younger siblings.
Enveloped in this warm and inviting atmosphere, Giyu felt a cozy warmth in both his stomach and heart.
He buried himself in his rice and ate efficiently; in no time, he had finished three large bowls of rice.
However, this relaxed and pleasant daily routine did not last long.
Late at night.
The wind and snow outside suddenly intensified, and the gale battered the windows of the wooden house.
"Cough... cough cough cough..."
A violent cough, as if it were coughing up its lungs, came from the inner room.
Giyu had been sitting cross-legged in the outer room with his eyes closed, suddenly opened his eyes.
The relaxed look that belonged to ordinary people completely disappeared from his deep blue eyes.
He walked quickly to the curtain at the inner room and gently lifted it.
Under the dim light of an oil lamp.
Tanjuro Kamado was half-lying on the bedding, clutching a coarse white handkerchief tightly in his hand, coughing violently while covering his mouth.
Kie Kamado knelt beside her husband, tears streaming down her face, stroking his back repeatedly, completely at a loss.
Several young children were awakened by the coughing and hid in the corner, their eyes filled with fear.
Tanjiro was carrying a basin of hot water, and his hands were shaking so badly that half of the water spilled out.
"Father..."
Tanjiro's voice was trembling with tears.
When Tanjuro finally stopped coughing and slowly removed the handkerchief, a large, shocking dark red bloodstain was clearly visible on the white cloth.
"Get out of the way."
A deep, steady voice echoed inside the room.
Giyu had entered without anyone noticing. He took the basin of water from Tanjiro, placed the hot water aside, and strode to Tanjuro's bedside, kneeling down on one knee.
At this time, Tanjuro was emaciated.
A year ago, he could still hold a wooden stick and perform Hinokami Kagura in the wind and snow. Although he was weak, there was still light in his eyes.
But now, the harsh winter has completely worn down his already exhausted body.
Giyu remained silent.
He stretched out his large hand and grabbed Tanjuro's bony wrist.
It's so cold!!
This cold is not the temperature of ice and snow outside, but a decaying cold where vitality is rapidly being lost.
Giyu spent a long time at the Butterfly Mansion and witnessed the Kocho Sisters treating the wounded.
Although he didn't understand complex medical principles, he knew how to use Breathing Style to control blood flow and body temperature.
He closed his eyes and immediately began to Total Concentration Breathing.
A gentle yet pure flow of heat slowly entered Tanjuro's cold meridians through Giyu's palm.
He was using his body heat and breath to forcefully protect Tanjuro's heart, which was on the verge of stopping, and to dispel the deadly chill from his lungs.
Time passed by, second by second.
The room was so quiet that only the sound of wind and snow outside the window could be heard.
The children didn't dare to breathe, all their eyes fixed on that broad, sturdy back.
I don't know how much time passed.
Tanjuro's previously contorted brows of pain gradually relaxed.
The terrible hissing sound in his throat subsided, and his breathing became slightly more even.
"... That's enough, Mr. Tomioka."
Tanjuro slowly opened his tired eyes, a weak smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"If you keep wasting your energy like this, you won't even have the strength to swing a knife tomorrow."
Giyu slowly withdrew his hand.
He looked at Tanjuro's bloodless face, and in his deep blue eyes, a complex emotion that was hard to describe surged.
Life is truly such a fragile thing!!
As a swordsman who slays demons, he has seen far too many lives torn apart by evil spirits.
In his mind, death is often accompanied by blood, severed limbs, and extreme violence.
But now, looking at this man before me, whose life is slowly being taken away by illness and the passage of time.
Only then did he truly realize,
Birth, aging, sickness, and death... these are insurmountable barriers for any human being.
"Tanjiro, take your younger siblings and go outside first."
Tanjuro turned his head and looked tenderly at his eldest son.
"Kie, you should go and rest for a while too. I want to speak with Mr. Tomioka alone."
With red-rimmed eyes, Kie nodded and led the children, who kept turning back to look at her, out of the room.
Inside the inner room, only the two of them remained.
The flame of the oil lamp flickered, casting the shadows of the two people onto the wooden wall.
"Mr. Tomioka."
Tanjuro leaned against the pillows, his gaze calmly fixed on the wooden beams of the roof.
Do you know what the biggest difference is between humans and demons?
Giyu sat silently on the edge of the bed, offering no reply.
"Demons possess endless lifespans and powerful bodies."
"As long as they don't have their necks cut off and aren't exposed to sunlight, they can live forever in that unchanging darkness."
Tanjuro's voice was soft, yet it seemed to carry a profound weight that could penetrate the soul.
"But they are pathetic."
"Because they have lost the fear of 'loss,' they have also lost the ability to 'cherish.'"
Tanjuro slowly turned his head, his withered hands reaching out to gently place them on Giyu's hand that held the Nichirin Blade.
"What makes humanity great is precisely our fleeting existence, as brief as morning dew!"
"Because we know that life will end, we do our utmost to love, to protect, and to pass on our will to the next generation!!"
"My body is failing me!!"
When Tanjuro said those words, there was not a trace of fear, but rather a sense of calm and relief.
But this is not the end!
He looked at Giyu with eyes full of clarity and trust.
"I Hinokami Kagura to you. I have also entrusted Tanjiro and this family to you with complete peace of mind."
"The flesh will decay and turn into spring mud!!"
"But as long as this spirit of protection continues to be passed on, life will never truly perish!!"
Giyu's fingers trembled suddenly.
Inheritance.
A face uncontrollably surfaced in his mind.
Tsutako, the older sister who died protecting the evil spirit.
He lived with deep guilt and self-blame.
But now.
Listening to Tanjuro's voice, as faint as a candle flickering in the wind, yet incredibly firm.
Giyu suddenly felt that the huge rock that had been pressing on his heart had cracked open.
It's not deprivation!!
It's a trust!!
Those who left us entrusted him with their love for this world and the path they had not yet completed, without reservation.
If he simply wallows in self-blame, that would be the greatest desecration of this legacy.
"I see."
Giyu grasped Tanjuro's cold hand in return.
For the first time ever, the lines on his perpetually expressionless face softened completely.
In those deep blue eyes, something is breaking free from its cocoon and transforming into a butterfly.
"As long as I have a breath left."
Giyu looked at Tanjuro, his tone calm, yet as heavy as a mountain.
"This flame will never be extinguished."
After hearing this, Tanjuro finally closed his eyes with a sigh of relief, a peaceful smile on his lips.
Outside the window, the mournful winds of deep winter still howled, but inside the cabin, a warm current that could not be frozen flowed.