Haruto froze.
He raised his head. Shinjuro Rengoku's eyes were filled with tears.
"You..."
"Go. Don't come here again."
Shinjuro lowered his head. After a long silence, he said, "I've resigned as the Flame Hashira. The Demon Slayer Corps' affairs have nothing to do with me anymore."
His lips moved, perhaps to apologize for what he had just said, but in the end, he said nothing.
This warm, cheerful man had been devastated by his wife's passing and had abandoned the demon-slaying work he had once cherished as much as his own life.
Haruto left the Rengoku Family estate, and the young Kyojuro walked him out.
"Are you feeling all right?"
Kyojuro asked with concern. He was almost exactly like his father, with the same warmth and compassion, a blazing fire in his heart.
"I'm fine. You don't need to walk me any farther."
"Father wasn't really blaming you for what happened. He's taking it out on himself. Please don't take his words to heart."
Haruto smiled gently. "I know. It's just..."
He looked back at the Rengoku Family estate in the setting sun and asked wistfully, "Has Mr. Shinjuro really decided to leave the Demon Slayer Corps?"
Since Flame Breathing had first been created, the position of Flame Hashira had never stood vacant.
Now that Shinjuro Rengoku had thrown in the towel, who would take his place?
"Lord Ubuyashiki hasn't approved Father's resignation yet," Kyojuro answered, his eyes sparkling. "I'm preparing to join the Demon Slayer Corps myself. I'll work hard to become a Hashira and take Father's place!"
With the evening glow behind him, Kyojuro Rengoku's eyes burned as brightly as his father's. The conviction blazing in his chest seemed hotter than the sun itself.
A cold wind swept over the mountaintop above the Swordsmith Village that night. The clouds had scattered, leaving the moon and stars shining brightly across the sky.
Under the Demon Slayer Corps' heavy protection, the village had no need to fear attacks from man-eating demons at night.
Haruto lay in the meadow. The scent of grass mingled with the faint fragrance of wildflowers beneath his nose, leaving him utterly at peace.
After letting Godogawa know, he had come up the mountain and stayed there for two or three days.
He called it training, but all he did was lie aimlessly on the ground and stare at the sky.
Mr. Shinjuro had lost his conviction, and with it, the belief that sustained his Flame Breathing.
Kyojuro had strengthened his conviction. His breathing was firm and steady, and he truly might become the next Flame Hashira.
But what about him?
What about Haruto?
What did he believe in?
The white-haired boy rolled back and forth on the ground, pondering for a long time, but never found an answer.
He had never known who his parents were and had lived with his great-uncle since childhood.
After his great-uncle died of old age, he had kowtowed three times to Godogawa, who had come to offer his condolences, then followed him to the Swordsmith Village and become his apprentice.
His life was that simple. He killed demons not out of hatred, but simply because it was something he needed to do.
Man-eating demons were no different from people who slaughtered the innocent. They needed to be dragged into the sunlight and burned to ash beneath its scorching rays.
He had no unwavering conviction in his heart, and without steadfast belief and a passionate heart, he could never become an outstanding Flame Breathing swordsman.
That was the problem Haruto had been pondering these past few days.
"You and I are both useless."
Shinjuro Rengoku's anguished, tearful words still seemed to echo in his ears, weighing heavily on his heart.
Useless?
Who?
Me?
The boy gazed up at the sky, tracing lines between the brilliant stars with his eyes.
I was a loser in my twenties, working a dead-end job, who crossed over into another world.
I went from a weakling who couldn't carry a thing to a powerful swordsman with eight-pack abs...
And you call me useless?
I... refuse to accept that.
It's just a mismatch between my Breathing Style and my body. If Flame Breathing doesn't work for me-then I'll switch to another style.
Haruto didn't know that ordinary demon slayers couldn't use two different Breathing Styles. He only knew that, in the glimpses he had caught of Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba, its protagonist Tanjiro sometimes used Water Breathing with blue ripples, and other times used something wreathed in flames-was that Flame Breathing?
That proves swordsmen can use two different Breathing Styles.
Water Breathing? Wind Breathing? Thunder Breathing? Or should I ask Mr. Himejima to teach me Stone Breathing?
The stars in his sight connected into a curved line as his thoughts guided them, their gentleness concealing a keen, deadly edge.
Haruto closed his eyes. He felt as though he had become the vast blue sky, plunging deep into the ocean of the heavens.
The clear night filled him with peace and exhilaration. Such a beautiful scene should never be tainted by demons.
His thoughts danced beneath the night sky, reaching for the moon and kissing the stars.
Something seemed to stir in his chest. It was as though he had taken a deep breath of mint-scented air, leaving his mind perfectly clear.
Cool air flooded his lungs, making his limbs feel as though they were floating.
The stars before his eyes connected into patterns, like constellations, or perhaps...
Sword forms.
Haruto traced those sword forms in his mind. His body sprang up from the grass, and he seized the Nichirin Blade lying beside him.
Outside his attention, a dense mass of white scrolling comments filled his vision.
[This is going to be an iconic scene!]
[Haruto finally ditched Flame Breathing and started creating his own Breathing Style!]
[The second badass after Tanjiro who can use two Breathing Styles!]
[Hey, Haruto showed up way before Tanjiro, okay? If we're ranking them chronologically, Haruto's first.]
[Hus-band-]
Hotaru Haganezuka covered his ears and tossed and turned in bed.
Damn it... who the hell is staying up in the woods making those whoosh-whoosh-whoosh noises?!
He had come up the mountain to train precisely to escape those inexplicable noises!
After enduring them for several dozen minutes, Hotaru Haganezuka sprang up in fury. Without even putting on his Hyottoko Mask, he grabbed two kitchen knives he had forged himself and charged out the door.
"Eeeeeee-!"
Hotaru Haganezuka transformed into a special grade cursed spirit, jogging toward the source of the noise with a kitchen knife in each hand.
Once I find out who it is, I'm going to slaughter him myself!
Little bastard, ruining my sleep!
His muscular arms swung both knives, hacking away the bushes blocking his path. At last, Hotaru Haganezuka found the culprit who had kept him awake.
The white-haired boy stood beneath the starlight, holding the Nichirin Blade he had poured so much effort into forging.
He darted, turned, lunged, and slashed.
His footwork was nimble, his movements steady, and his sword hand firm as a rock. Aside from the blade's swishing through the air, it truly was a beautiful picture of strength and grace intertwined.
Except...
Doesn't this Takanashi kid use Flame Breathing?!
Why is his blade blue-violet, like an aurora?!
Is there any Breathing Style with a blue-violet blade?
Hotaru Haganezuka crouched in the grass, clutching his kitchen knives as he pondered.
More importantly, I forged this sword specifically for Haruto's Flame Breathing. It definitely can't bring out his full strength if he's using something else!
The swordsman I'm responsible for can't unleash his full strength with the Nichirin Blade I forged?
This is the greatest failure of my entire swordsmithing career!
Haruto let out a long breath and landed on the ground, unable to contain his joy.
No exhaustion or aching muscles like when I use Flame Breathing!
Although he had no idea how powerful this Breathing Style he had discovered in the movement of the stars might be, at least it didn't drain his stamina as wildly as Flame Breathing did!
"Clack, clack, clack..."
A strange sound suddenly reached his ears, and Haruto immediately scanned his surroundings warily.
When his gaze swept over a nearby clump of bushes, he nearly got scared right out of his animation-
An unidentified creature surrounded by an oppressive aura crouched there, shaking violently as it went "clack, clack, clack." Two gleaming kitchen knives reflected an eerie light beneath the moon!
"Holy shit-you scared me to death!"
"Clack, clack, clack!"
A muscular man leaped out of the bushes, his eyes wide and bloodshot. "Unforgivable!"
"Hotaru Haganezuka, you bastard! You'll scare someone to death doing that!"
"Let me forge you a new sword! I will not allow my swordsman to wield a blade like that!"
Before you continue