"If you became a demon, you wouldn't have to be protected by your little sister like some pathetic loser. You're so useless now that you make me sick."
Gyutaro walked toward Tanjiro as he spoke, the Blood Scythes in his hands gleaming with an eerie red light.
I'm sorry... Nezuko. Your big brother let you get hurt again...
Pressing Nezuko's severed arm against her wound, Tanjiro watched cold sweat break out on her face from the pain. He picked up his Nichirin Blade and shielded her behind him.
Then he slowly rose to his feet, trembling, and answered Gyutaro:
"I refuse. And I will turn my sister back into a human."
Despite his immense anger, he was eerily calm, like a volcano buried deep beneath the sea.
Faced with the same choice as Kyojuro, Tanjiro gave the same answer.
"Growing old and dying are both part of the beauty of fragile creatures called humans. It is precisely because they grow old and die that humans are so lovable and noble.
Strength is not a word that describes the body alone."
"No matter how many times you ask, my answer will remain the same."
Tanjiro still held close to his heart the words Kyojuro had spoken to Akaza while standing in front of them.
Because they could not last forever, those fleeting moments of beauty were all the more moving.
"Stop playing around, Brother. Hurry up and kill them. The sash I sent out found a Hashira here. Finish them off so we can go find him," Daki called to Gyutaro from the rooftop.
Tanjiro's answer irritated Gyutaro, and he scratched his face.
"Then die! Blood Demon Art: Flying Blood Scythes!"
He shouted at Tanjiro, then swung the Blood Scythes in his hands. Several razor-thin blades of blood flew