The temptation of black pork

The Kasugai Crow flapped its wings as it flew over Tokyo Prefecture.

At the Demon Slayer Corps Headquarters, Kagaya Ubuyashiki drank the medicinal broth in his bowl and let the Kasugai Crow settle on his shoulder.

"Byōha, Lower Rank Three, has been slain on Muyun Mountain! His slayer was Haruto Takanashi, a Lower Rank swordsman of the Demon Slayer Corps!"

Kagaya's hand paused as he set down the medicine bowl. Only after the Kasugai Crow repeated the news twice did a smile spread across his face.

On Mount Sagiri, a shirtless Giyu sliced through several wooden posts bundled together. He froze at Kanzaburo's message. "He killed one of the Twelve Kizuki... doesn't that mean he can become a Hashira?"

Beside him, Makomo was carefully winding that wisteria flower tassel back around her Tsuba. "That's Haruto for you," she said admiringly.

In a village somewhere in Tokyo Prefecture, Sabito stroked his Kasugai Crow's head, his silver eyes shining with interest. "The Twelve Kizuki..."

In the Swordsmith Village, Gyomei Himejima's Kasugai Crow, Zekka, was reporting the news to the towering monk and Godogawa.

Himejima pressed his palms together and smiled for the first time in a long while. "It seems the ranks of the Hashira will be growing."

Only Godogawa lowered his head, then raised it again to ask softly, "Is Haruto... all right?"

Haruto was not doing very well at the moment.

The Kakushi arrived just in time. They struggled to pull Haruto's Nichirin Blade out of the tree, recovered the priest's remains, and carried the unconscious Haruto to a nearby Wisteria House.

Wounds covered Haruto from head to toe. He looked like a broken doll.

The bones throughout his body looked as though a locomotive had hit him. Almost none of the bones in his chest were intact.

The puncture wounds left by the vines and branches were also extremely difficult to treat. The plant matter lodged inside him clung to his muscles like barbed arrows tipped with canine teeth.

Fearing infection, the doctor at the Wisteria House had no choice but to cut out the flesh along with the vines and branches.

The operation lasted all night, and the blood that flowed out soaked more than a dozen bedsheets.

"If not for Constant Total Concentration breathing, Mr. Takanashi would probably have died long ago."

Haruto lay in the Wisteria House for a week, hovering between life and death.

Apart from the faint breathing that proved he was still alive, his deathly pale face made him look like a corpse.

When he woke a week later, he found Cang Kong beside his bed.

"If you're not dead yet, come to headquarters once you've recovered."

Cang Kong opened his mouth. "Those were Oyakata-sama's exact words."

Footsteps sounded outside the door, and a boy with long, peach-pink hair poked his head in. "Hey, you're awake."

Haruto was in agony. Every bone and every muscle in his body screamed that it wanted to die. All he could do was breathe deeply, letting the oxygen soothe them.

But every deep breath made his chest rise and fall, and his shattered breastbone felt as though it were sitting on his head and beating him senseless, leaving him dazed.

"Why is it you again?" Haruto forced a hoarse voice out of his throat. "Do you work part-time at the Wisteria House?"

Amused, Sabito raised his heavily bandaged arm. "Have a little conscience, will you? I came all this way to see you even though I'm injured.

"Come on, tell me! One of the Twelve Kizuki-how did you do it?!"

Only then did the reality of having killed Lower Rank Three finally sink in.

Haruto stared at the ceiling and blinked, letting out a long sigh of lingering fear. "He ate a priest. The man had rare blood..."

He was so fast, knew ninjutsu, and had all sorts of bizarre Blood Demon Arts...

If the rare blood hadn't taken effect inside Byōha, Haruto doubted he could have killed him even after rewinding three times.

Sabito heard the dejection in his voice. Smiling gently, he sat down beside the bed.

"Swordsmen get stronger through actual combat.

"This time, you barely managed to win. But once you've recovered, if the same opponent appears before you again, you'll be able to handle him easily.

"It's the same for the Hashira. We break through our limits in battle. Compared with the other swordsmen from your intake, you're already doing incredibly well."

Listening to his comforting words did lift Haruto's spirits a little.

A knock sounded, and the female doctor from the Wisteria House pushed the door open, carrying a tray of medicine. "Mr. Takanashi, it's time to change your dressings."

"Should I step outside?" Sabito pointed at himself.

"You can go downstairs. Everyone is preparing lunch." The doctor nodded politely, then looked up to find the white-haired boy staring at her with wide eyes.

"Lunch?"

She nodded. "That's right. A village sent us some black pork today. Everyone is deciding whether to make pork cutlet rice bowls with sauce or grilled black pork."

His eyes widened.

"Black pork."

Sabito covered his face, desperately signaling to the doctor with his eyes. Please, stop talking!

"Or perhaps stew it for pork ramen..."

His pupils dilated.

"You've got to be kidding! Obviously, it has to be braised-ow!"

His despairing roar rang through the Wisteria House. Sabito covered his ears. "I said, keep it down!"

"I want to eat."

"How are you going to eat? Chewing and swallowing will both hurt!"

"I want to eat."

Sabito brought out his trump card. "Even if you don't mind the pain of chewing and swallowing, you'll still have to use the toilet, won't you?"

He gestured with his eyes toward his injured arm. "I can't help you. Are you really going to ask this lovely young lady to do it?

"Come on, you're a Breathing Style swordsman. Missing a few meals won't kill you!"

Rain drenched the sky, ruining everything with exquisite precision.

Having pulled at his wounds with his shouting, Haruto lay in bed and silently wept.

In the end, Sabito didn't abandon his teammate to enjoy the food alone. He watched the doctor peel away the gauze wrapped around Haruto, and the sight of those wounds made his scalp prickle.

"Fortunately, none of the puncture wounds reached his chest or abdomen. Otherwise..."

The doctor shook her head, removed the medicated cotton packed into the holes, and replaced it with fresh cotton.

"If it hurts, you can cry out." The doctor kept sighing in sympathy. Just looking at that kind of pain made it hard for her to breathe.

Look, there were even tears in the white-haired boy's eyes.

Several more days passed, and the powerful vitality of a Breathing Style swordsman began to show.

Once the finger-thick holes had healed, Giyu arrived after finishing his mission. Together with Sabito, whose arm had recovered, he carried Haruto back to Mount Sagiri on a stretcher.

There was actually no need to rush, but Haruto knew Makomo was going to take part in this year's final selection.

After living on Mount Sagiri for over half a year, he had come to see this lively, adorable girl with her light, lilting voice as his own little sister.

Their little sister was going off to such an important selection. Of course all of them, as her big brothers, had to be there.

"Haruto!"

When she saw the three of them at the foot of the mountain, Makomo dropped the firewood in her hands and rushed toward them with a squeal.

"Easy, easy, you silly girl!" Sabito, who had been running all day, caught the girl's head in one hand to stop her from throwing herself at Haruto. "Go get a bed ready!"

Haruto struggled to lift his hand and tugged at Sakonji Urokodaki's blue, wave-patterned Haori. "Master Urokodaki..."

The Great Tengu Mask gazed down at him.

Weak but resolute, the boy said, "Black pork..."

"I want to eat black pork."