The Journey Home in the Morning Light: Two Figures Together Beneath the Wisteria

Morning light fell on the circular plaza paved with bluestone at the foot of the mountain.

Figures emerged from the woods, few and far between.

Most were in tattered clothes and covered in blood. Their eyes were vacant or terrified, and they staggered as though they might collapse at any moment.

In the middle of the plaza, two members of the Kakushi stood like emotionless statues in their black uniforms.

On the long table in front of them were fresh water, rice balls, and basic medicine for wounds, but hardly anyone went to take any.

"I survived... I really survived..."

A thin boy crouched on the ground with his knees hugged to his chest, repeating the words over and over.

His left arm hung at an unnatural angle, clearly broken.

An older swordsman beside him patted his shoulder.

"It was thanks to the one wearing the fox mask."

The words were like a stone thrown into still water.

"The fox mask... right! He saved me!!"

In another corner, a young man with a scarred face suddenly grew excited.

"Three days ago, two demons had me surrounded, and my sword nearly broke... then he appeared, and there was this water-blue flash of his blade... just two moves!"

"Me too!!"

A girl spoke up, her right leg wrapped in a bandage made from torn strips of cloth.

"I fell into a demon's trap, and he pulled me out... then he stood in front of us alone and told us to go first."

"He cleared out the valley to the west... I saw him kill seven demons by himself."

"The cave to the east too..."

"And near the waterfall to the north..."

One voice followed another, trembling with the shock of having just survived and full of heartfelt gratitude.

A count put their number at fifty... not a single one had died.

That had never happened in the history of the Demon Slayer Corps' Final Selection.

Fear still gripped everyone's hearts.

They talked about how terrifying the demons were, the stench of blood in the woods, and how close their companions had come to dying before they were saved.

But more often, they talked about the figure in the fox mask and yellow-orange haori.

Murata leaned against a tree at the edge of the plaza, listening quietly to the discussion.

His shoulder was bandaged too, and his face was pale, but his expression was far more complicated than the others'.

He knew the person in the fox mask was named Sabito, knew that he had almost single-handedly wiped out the demons on the mountain, and knew that he had gone alone to face the most terrifying one in the end. He also knew... that the blue-eyed boy had run back.

"Giyu..."

Murata clenched his fists.

He had promised Sabito he would take Giyu down the mountain, but the silent boy had broken free of him and rushed back into that hell without looking back.

In the distance, Wisteria swayed in the morning breeze by the path out of the woods.

When the two figures supporting each other finally appeared at the entrance to the plaza, the whole place fell silent.

Every gaze snapped toward them.

The one in front was Sabito, whom they had been talking about all morning.

His yellow-orange haori was so shredded it was barely recognizable, dried blood covered the scar that ran from the left side of his forehead to his cheek, and his exposed skin was covered in scrapes and bruises.

He had one hand on the shoulder of the person beside him, and every step seemed to cost him some effort, but he wore his usual reassuring smile.

And the one supporting him—

His red haori was almost dazzlingly bright, with a large patch over the left shoulder soaked in dark red blood.

His long black hair was tied in a low ponytail, with a few loose strands falling across his forehead. They failed to hide his blue eyes, which were like a frozen deep sea.

His face was expressionless, his lips pressed tightly together and his gaze so calm it was almost indifferent. He simply supported Sabito's weight with care, as though that were the only thing he cared about at the moment.

After a brief, dead silence, the crowd erupted.

"It's him!!"

"He's alive!!"

"He's hurt... he's hurt badly..."

People surged forward and surrounded them both.

Words of gratitude poured toward Sabito like a tide.

"Thank you for saving me!!"

"Without you, I would definitely be dead..."

"Are your injuries all right? Do you need help?"

Sabito was a little bewildered, but he soon smiled gently and answered them one by one.

"I'm just glad everyone's safe..."

"My injuries? Ah, they're nothing. A few days of rest and I'll be fine."

His voice was a little hoarse, but it was as steady and reassuring as ever.

The moment the crowd surged forward, Giyu let go of Sabito and silently took half a step back, retreating to the edge of the crowd.

When someone tried to speak to him, he merely nodded without expression and continued backing away until he reached the shadows in the farthest corner of the plaza, where he stood with his arms folded and his back against the rough stone wall.

His gaze passed through the crowd and settled on Sabito, surrounded in the middle.

Once he had made sure Sabito could still stand steadily, he looked away, toward the sun slowly rising in the distance.

Morning light fell across his face, illuminating his forbidding, chilly expression and the frightening bloodstain on his left shoulder.

He was like an iceberg that had suddenly intruded upon the bustle of the human world, silent and aloof, out of place amid everything around him.

Murata pushed through the crowd, but instead of going to Sabito, he went to Giyu in the corner.

He looked the boy in blue up and down, his eyes full of shock and confusion.

When he had carried Giyu down the mountain yesterday, the boy had still been unconscious from his shoulder injury and exhaustion.

Now, although his injuries were clearly worse, Giyu's whole bearing had changed.

"Tomioka..."

Murata began hesitantly.

"You... you went back? That huge demon..."

Giyu turned to look at him and nodded, the movement so slight it was barely noticeable.

"Then, what about that demon? And Sabito's sword..."

Murata kept his voice very low.

"Dead."

Giyu's answer was as short as a shard of ice.

"Sabito's sword broke."

"Dead? You killed it?!?!"

Murata couldn't help raising his voice a little, drawing the attention of several people nearby.

He quickly lowered it again.

"How is that possible... that demon was so strong, even Sabito..."

Giyu didn't answer. He simply looked at him in silence.

There was hardly any emotion in those blue eyes—no pride and no lingering fear, only a calm so deep its bottom could not be seen.

The look made Murata a little uneasy.

"Your injury..."

Murata pointed at Giyu's left shoulder.

"I'm fine."

With those words, Giyu looked away again and returned to his vacant state, clearly unwilling to continue the conversation.

Murata opened his mouth, but in the end he swallowed the rest of his questions.

So some people really had lived in different worlds from the very beginning.

"Quiet!!!"

A Kakushi member struck the bronze gong in his hand.

The clear sound rang through the plaza, drowning out all the noise.

The other Kakushi stepped forward and announced in an even tone:

"The Final Selection is over. Fifty-two people survived. According to the rules, you now have two choices."

All eyes turned toward them.

"First, join the Demon Slayer Corps as swordsmen who hunt demons. Fight demons until you die."

"Second, join the Kakushi and handle logistics, support, passing on intelligence, and transporting the wounded. You won't have to fight demons directly, but it's still quite dangerous."

The Kakushi paused, then added:

"The Kakushi are also an indispensable part of the Demon Slayer Corps. Fighting isn't the only way to contribute. You have the time it takes one incense stick to burn to decide."

The crowd fell quiet for a moment, then began murmuring.

Fear still gripped their hearts.

Their seven days on Mount Fujikasane had shown them just how terrifying demons were, and how close death could be.

Many still trembled slightly as they gripped their swords.

The incense stick soon burned out.

When the Kakushi asked for their choices again, the result was no surprise.

About forty people stepped forward, expressing their willingness to join the Kakushi.

Most of them were more seriously injured, or still had lingering fear in their eyes.

Only around ten chose to become swordsmen of the Demon Slayer Corps.

Sabito stepped forward without a second thought.

Even though he was the most seriously injured and his sword had broken, there was not the slightest wavering in his eyes.

Giyu also walked quietly to his side.

His movements were natural, as though this had never been a choice that required hesitation.

The two Kakushi members nodded, saying nothing about the number of people who had made each choice.

They brought out two heavy wooden chests from under the long table and opened them.

Inside were piles of raw Tamahagane stones of various sizes.

The stones had rough surfaces and varied in color, giving off a dull metallic sheen in the morning light.

"Choose your Tamahagane."

The Kakushi said:

"This is the material that will be used to make your own Nichirin Blades. Your sword will become a part of your body. It will be a blade for slaying demons, and a companion that stays with you until the end."

The survivors stepped forward one after another and chose carefully.

Some picked stones up and put them down again, comparing them over and over; some closed their eyes and felt around, searching for some kind of "connection"; others simply grabbed a piece and left.

Sabito walked up to a chest and studied it for a while before reaching out and picking up a medium-sized piece of dark gray Tamahagane with flowing water-like patterns on its surface.

He weighed it in his hand and looked satisfied.

When Giyu's turn came, he merely glanced at the stones piled haphazardly in the chest and, almost without pausing, reached in and took one out.

It was an unremarkable stone from a corner, small and a dark blue-black in color.

His action was so casual that several people nearby who were still hesitating looked surprised.

But Giyu offered no explanation.

He held the Tamahagane in his hand and felt a strange resonance.

It was a sensation brought about by Heaven-Defying Comprehension, allowing him to instinctively find the material best suited to him.

He walked back to Sabito's side and handed the Tamahagane to the Kakushi in charge of registration.

Once the Tamahagane had been registered, the two Kakushi blew special whistles.

The sound of beating wings came from the sky.

Dozens of crows flew in from every direction, circled above the plaza, then each flew toward someone who had chosen to become a swordsman of the Demon Slayer Corps.

A crow with feathers as black as night and blood-red eyes landed on Sabito's shoulder and affectionately rubbed against his face.

Another crow, a little smaller but with particularly sharp eyes, circled twice above Giyu's head before landing on his right shoulder.

It cocked its head and studied the expressionless human for a while, then suddenly spoke in a rough, grating voice.

"Giyu! Giyu Tomioka! I'm your Kasugai Crow! I'll be carrying messages for you from now on!"

"Don't complain that I'm noisy! Don't ignore me! Do you hear me, Giyu!!!"

Giyu tilted his head slightly and met the crow's gaze for two seconds, then nodded, his face as expressionless as ever.

The crow seemed taken aback by his indifferent reaction. It flapped its wings twice, then finally settled obediently on his shoulder.

"Kasugai Crows are your partners,"

the Kakushi explained.

"They're clever and loyal. They'll bring you messages, guide you, and scout out the enemy. Treat them well."

"From here, you have fifteen days."

"The Tamahagane will be sent to Swordsmith Village, where swordsmiths will forge Nichirin Blades tailored to each of you."

"These fifteen days are the only rest you'll get. The day your swords are finished is when your missions begin. Your Kasugai Crows will bring you your orders along with your swords."

"Remember, once you become swordsmen of the Demon Slayer Corps, only two things remain in your lives: killing demons, and... dying on the path of killing demons."

The plaza fell deathly silent.

Even the wind seemed to have stopped.

Fifteen days.

Their only, and final, respite.

The road back was long.

Sabito and Giyu declined the carriage provided by the Kakushi and decided to walk back to Mount Sagiri.

Neither of them walked quickly. Sabito had to stop and rest now and then because of his injuries, and Giyu quietly matched his pace.

The morning light gradually grew dazzling, dispelling the mist in the mountains.

Ordinary fields and woods lined both sides of the road. Everything was so peaceful and quiet, as if the past seven days had been nothing but a long nightmare.

"Giyu."

Sabito broke the silence.

He leaned against a tree trunk to rest, still smiling.

"You really have gotten stronger. Strong enough to... surprise even me a little."

Giyu stood beside him, looking at the mountains in the distance without answering.

"But we'll need to take proper care of that shoulder injury when we get back."

Sabito continued,

"Master Urokodaki will definitely give us an earful. And Makomo... she'll be so happy when she finds out we both made it back alive."

Sabito's voice dropped almost imperceptibly when he mentioned Makomo's name.

But he soon returned to his usual energetic tone:

"Speaking of which, did you get any special feeling from the piece of Tamahagane you picked?"

"When I picked mine, I thought I heard the sound of running water..."

"Mm."

Giyu finally made a sound in reply.

"I knew it."

Sabito smiled.

"You might not talk much, but your intuition has always been spot-on."

"Maybe it's just as well my sword broke. I can get one that suits me better. But before that, I'll have to give Master Urokodaki a proper apology... for breaking the sword he gave me."

Giyu turned and glanced at Sabito.

His expression was subdued, but Sabito understood what he meant:

It wasn't your fault!!!

"I know."

Sabito spoke softly, his smile growing a little gentler.

"But I am your senior, after all. I have to set an example."

"Still... thank you, Giyu. If you hadn't come back, I'm afraid I..."

He trailed off, simply shaking his head and straightening up again.

"Let's go. We still have a long way to go. The sooner we get back, the sooner we can put Master's mind at ease."

The two continued on their way.

Sabito kept talking.

He talked about what kind of welcome Master Urokodaki might have prepared, how mysterious Swordsmith Village was, and all his thoughts about future missions.

He had so much to say, as if he meant to make up for everything he hadn't said over the past seven days.

Most of the time, Giyu just listened quietly, occasionally saying "Mm" to show he was listening.

His expression hardly changed, his steps were steady, and his eyes were calm.

But whenever Sabito was too unsteady from the pain to walk properly, Giyu's hand was always there in time to support him firmly.

Whenever Sabito's mouth grew dry from talking, Giyu quietly handed him the water flask.

Sabito looked at his silent junior, a trace of complex emotion flashing in his eyes.

He knew Giyu's inner world was far richer than he appeared, and he knew how much his quiet junior cared about the people around him.

As the sun was about to set, the two finally saw the familiar outline of Mount Sagiri.

Smoke rose from the little house at the foot of the mountain, as if it were waiting for someone to come home.

Sabito stopped and let out a long breath. He turned to Giyu with a radiant smile.

"We're home, Giyu."

Giyu gazed at the smoke, and at last, a faint but unmistakable warmth rippled through his ice-blue eyes.

He nodded.

"Mm."