Returning to Familiar Ground

He liked devouring strong opponents, but had no interest in women.

Yuko felt that this fellow should get along quite well with Doma.

After running it through her mind, Yuko asked the question she cared about most.

"Are there any other dojos in the city?"

The girl shook her head.

Yuko's brows furrowed slightly, but only for an instant before her expression recovered.

There was no need.

As a martial artist, his Blood Demon Art probably wouldn't be too different.

He should be the kind of fighter who exchanged blows at close range.

Although it was a pity that she had arrived a step too late, she hadn't come away empty-handed.

After finishing her questions, Yuko slowly rose to her feet.

The girl quickly wiped her face and looked up at her.

Although she said nothing, Yuko understood what she meant.

After a moment of silence, Yuko said, "If... if you can live into your seventies, I can bring you news of his death."

It was already the end of the Edo period. Her knowledge of Japanese history wasn't very good, but she did know the story of the Meiji Restoration.

The Taisho period, meanwhile, wouldn't come until the early twentieth century.

In other words, the girl before her would have to live to at least seventy or eighty before she might see the ending of Demon Slayer.

The unexpected words left the girl stunned for quite some time.

Yuko lowered her eyelids slightly and turned to walk outside.

"Wait!"

The girl called out to stop her.

Yuko glanced back slightly.

The girl gritted her teeth. "Are you telling the truth?"

"I am."

"I'll stay right here!" The girl clenched her fists, her tone turning resolute. "No matter how many years pass, I'll stay here and never leave!"

"This was my father's dojo. I won't let it disappear!"

"...I understand."

Yuko gave a slight nod and turned to leave the dojo.

When she reached the entrance, she suddenly stopped and looked back. "By the way, did that evil Demon ever say his name?"

"Akaza! My father called his name right before he died."

Yuko's mind went blank for a moment.

How had she managed to mix up "chicken" and "Akaza"?

Even if she only recognized half of the character, it should still be read as "yi," right?

After thinking it over, the only possibility was that bunch of bizarre netizens.

She had already been an armchair viewer, and they had still led her astray in the short-video comments. Wasn't that just making things harder for her?

Now she was even starting to doubt the other information in her little notebook.

Yuko sighed inwardly and left without looking back.

It wasn't that she was cold-hearted.

The tragedies caused by evil Demons were innumerable.

The reason the Demon Slayer Corps' legacy had been able to continue was, at its core, that the evil Demons had kept ravaging the human world.

Those who had lost family and friends because of them wished they could eat their flesh and drink their blood.

Seeing too much while being unable to change anything would drive anyone into depression.

Generation after generation of Demon Slayer Corps members had failed to fulfill their long-held wish of killing Kibutsuji Muzan. Had they all died with regrets?

They carried the hope of defeating the evil Demons and saving all living beings. They certainly hadn't sacrificed themselves for nothing.

One day, the people harmed by the evil Demons would drive a blade into his chest and tear his body apart.

The search for the Upper Ranks was far from easy. In the more than one hundred years since she had parted ways with Tamayo, she had only encountered Doma and nearly managed to find Akaza once.

Aside from that, she had never encountered another Upper Rank.

She had, however, dealt with two Lower Ranks. Since they had acted far too arrogantly, Yuko had sent them straight to the afterlife once she found them.

That had, in a sense, eased the pressure on the Demon Slayer Corps.

Several decades passed in the blink of an eye, and time finally reached the twentieth century.

The era Yuko had been waiting for.

The era of the Taisho Nine Hashira, and of Tanjiro.

The era in which Muzan could be killed.

At this point in time, who knew whether Tanjiro had even been born yet?

One day, this thought suddenly appeared in Yuko's mind, and she couldn't shake it.

After wandering this land for who knew how many years, Yuko once again had a brief destination.

She found the direction of Tanjiki's family and traveled there, climbing mountains and crossing rivers.

Several hundred years had passed, bringing countless changes.

The town below the mountain had developed, and even utility poles had been erected. Its prosperity was visible to the naked eye.

It was winter. The land was wrapped in silver, blanketed in snow.

The thin, cold air entering her lungs dispersed much of the pent-up gloom in Yuko's heart.

By the light of the moon, Yuko climbed toward the mountain.

The mountain paths had changed considerably over the centuries, but Tanjiki's ancestral home should not have moved. As long as she found the right direction from her memories, the rest could be left to time.

Whenever she encountered an impassable path, Yuko leaped upward like a green onion pulled straight from dry ground.

Her formidable physical abilities made it easy for her to achieve an effect resembling the "lightness skill" from martial arts stories.

A faint glow of fire appeared in her vision and grew larger as she advanced.

The Kagura dance?

Several hundred years ago, she had seen one of Tanjiki's descendants demonstrate the Sword Styles of Sun Breathing.

Standing in the dark forest and using the trees for cover, Yuko looked toward the clearing.

The house from several hundred years ago had changed considerably, but its location had not.

In the clearing, a man wore ceremonial clothing, with a white paper bearing the character "Flame" stuck to his face.

He tirelessly waved the ritual implements in his hands, dancing across the snowy ground.

The Dance of the Fire God...

Or rather, Sun Breathing...

How had they managed to pass down the twelve Sword Styles with such accuracy?

This wasn't the effort or talent of a single generation.

It was practically... the will of a god.

Yuko could also see through the man's physical condition.

It was terrible. He had only a few years left to live.

He was not much better off than she had been when she was half-dead—perhaps just a little better.

Yuko's first reaction was:

That must be Tanjiro's father.

Yuko tried desperately to recall something about him, but all she could remember were the words she had recorded in her book.

During Tanjiro's battle with Lower Rank Five Rui, the Death's Reverie helped Tanjiro learn Sun Breathing.

Aside from that, she couldn't remember a thing. She had even forgotten what Lower Rank Five looked like.

Yuko's mind went blank as she suddenly realized that the man's breathing rhythm was unexpectedly good.

Under close examination through the Clear and Transparent World, he had somehow learned the Breathing Technique to this level without a teacher.

The Breathing Technique had allowed his body to endure almost perfectly.

Hmm?

Two people suddenly emerged from the snow-covered house, one tall and one short.

Yuko's eyes automatically ignored the taller figure and fixed themselves on the shorter one.

Human memories usually lasted only a few decades, or even less.

Even if they had once been elementary-school classmates who played together for six years, people might not be able to recall more than a few clear faces when looking back twenty years later.

Yet even after several hundred years, Yuko still remembered what Tanjiro looked like.

There was no other reason.

He was the protagonist.

He could defeat Muzan.