Sakonji Urokodaki

Tanjiro still stood frozen in place, the wreckage of the collapsed Buddhist hall reflected in his eyes, his lips trembling without a word.

Just then, a figure appeared silently beside him, like a shadow blending into the night.

Kirishima Bupai caught sight of the man out of the corner of his eye and turned sideways.

Only then did Tanjiro belatedly stiffen all over.

At some point, a man in a blue-and-white kimono had appeared beside him.

His hair was hidden beneath a bamboo hat, and he wore a distinctive red Tengu Mask.

Only the line of his jaw was visible, and he exuded an air of severity as cold as ice in a mountain stream.

This was Sakonji Urokodaki.

Kirishima Bupai recognized him.

He was the cultivator who had guided Tanjiro into the Demon Slayer Corps in the original story, and this should have been the moment of his first encounter with Tanjiro.

Habitually resting his left hand on his sword hilt, Kirishima Bupai raised his right hand to straighten the collar of his trench coat.

At the same time, he rolled his neck in a wide arc, his joints giving a series of faint clicks that carried a kind of casual menace.

"Huh???"

Tanjiro was taken aback by this sudden, solemn gesture.

Thinking he had somehow offended the powerful boy, he hurriedly bowed a little in nervousness and asked cautiously, "S-sir, is something wrong?"

Kirishima Bupai lowered his hand, his gaze still sharp, but his voice held an inexplicable hint of amusement. "Nothing."

The thought of what he was about to say made him want to laugh. After a pause, Kirishima Bupai added, "My new sweater's a little itchy."

Then he looked up at Tanjiro, raising an eyebrow slightly. "Also, my name is Kirishima Bupai."

With that, he turned to the man in the Tengu Mask and lifted his chin. "Hey, you haven't introduced yourself yet."

"Your sweater... is itchy?"

Tanjiro stood stunned for a long moment before recovering from that offbeat answer and hurriedly bowing deeply.

"H-hello, Mr. Bupai! I'm Tanjiro Kamado, and this is my younger sister, Nezuko."

As he spoke, he gently patted Nezuko's arm beside him. She still held the bamboo tube between her teeth, and only her eyelashes fluttered.

At that moment, Sakonji Urokodaki, who had remained silent all this time, finally moved.

With his hands behind his back, he took a step forward. His gaze beneath the mask seemed to be assessing Tanjiro, and he was just about to speak.

"Roar-!"

A savage roar suddenly came from the distance, cutting him off.

They turned toward the sound and saw that the demon, severed at the waist, was still not completely dead on either side of the Buddhist hall's ruins.

Its upper half dragged a length of entrails, while its lower half kicked its legs.

Like two twisted balls of flesh, they came around opposite sides of the ruins and charged toward them.

"You little bastard! You think you can kill me like that?!"

The demon's upper half opened its gaping, bloody mouth and roared, spittle flying. "I'll rip your throat apart, then chew up those two brats and the masked one too!"

Sakonji Urokodaki's voice came from behind his mask, carrying a calm assessment:

"Your attack just now was astonishingly powerful, but demons have extremely strong regenerative abilities. You can't kill them like that without destroying their necks."

Before he had finished speaking, a sharp whistle had already cut through the air.

The sound was so swift it was almost impossible to catch, as though the air had merely trembled slightly.

The next second, they saw the demon's upper and lower halves suddenly shred into a skyful of bloody mist, as though churned through by invisible blades.

Only a head remained, tumbling to the ground.

Utter terror still lingered in its bulging eyes. Its mouth opened, but it could not utter a single word.

"Clink."

The clear sound of contact with a scabbard followed immediately. Kirishima Bupai had already sheathed his sword.

He even patted the dust off the hem of his coat, as though merely brushing away a fallen leaf.

Sakonji Urokodaki abruptly clenched his hands behind his back, his pupils contracting beneath the Tengu Mask.

He had not seen when the boy had drawn his sword at all.

From the moment the demon came into view to the moment it was sliced to pieces, no more than a blink had passed.

There had been at least a hundred meters between them, yet the flash of the blade had been as fast as teleportation. Even his battle-hardened eyes had failed to catch its path.

This boy named Kirishima Bupai... just where had he come from?

The ruins of the Buddhist hall still hissed and smoked, and the smell of blood mingled with the scent of rain-washed earth, spreading through the air.

Sakonji Urokodaki stood where he was. For the first time, his gaze beneath the Tengu Mask shifted away from Kirishima Bupai and settled on Tanjiro and Nezuko.

The speed of that draw had already exceeded the limits of what he understood a "human" could do.

From over a hundred meters away, he had cut a demon to pieces in the blink of an eye.

Even the Hashira of his day might not have been able to wield such strength with so little effort.

He looked at Kirishima Bupai's face, still bearing traces of boyishness, yet with such a cold, sharp gaze.

Then he looked at the boy's black trench coat, so out of place in this era, and doubts crowded his mind. Just who was this boy?

But for now, there were more important matters to address.

Urokodaki's gaze finally settled on Nezuko.

The girl still held the bamboo tube between her teeth, her ink-black hair falling over her shoulders.

Despite having just witnessed that bloody scene, her eyes held none of an ordinary demon's greed or madness.

There was only an almost bewildered calm, and even when she noticed Tanjiro's nervousness.

She tilted her head slightly and gently rubbed her forehead against her brother's arm, as though comforting him.

"Your name is Tanjiro Kamado, correct?"

Urokodaki's voice came from behind his mask, bearing a rasp worn in by the years, yet exceptionally clear.

The sudden question brought Tanjiro back to his senses, and he hurriedly nodded. "Y-yes! I'm Tanjiro Kamado!"

"Your sister," Urokodaki paused, his tone abruptly turning stern, "is a demon, correct?"

Tanjiro's heart clenched. He instinctively pulled Nezuko a little farther behind him and said urgently:

"Y-yes, but Nezuko is different! She won't eat people! She still has her human reason!"

Urokodaki did not respond to his defense, but continued, "Let me ask you, Tanjiro."

He took a step forward, bringing his Tengu Mask almost against Tanjiro's face.

"If one day your sister loses her reason and eats someone, what should you do?"

The question was like a cold blade, piercing Tanjiro's heart in an instant.

He froze.

Eat someone? How could Nezuko possibly eat anyone?

She was so gentle, so kind. Even after becoming a demon, she had kept trying hard to restrain herself, and would even protect him...

How could Nezuko ever hurt anyone?

Tanjiro opened his mouth, wanting to say, "Nezuko would never do that," but before the words could leave his lips, the unquestionable severity in Urokodaki's eyes forced them back.

Images flashed through his mind: the devastation of his hometown, the innocent villagers killed by demons, Nezuko struggling beneath the blood moon...

It felt as though an invisible hand had gripped his heart tightly, leaving him unable to breathe.

"I... I..."

Tanjiro's voice began to tremble, his eyes filled with confusion and pain.

He could not imagine such a scene, much less answer the question.

"Smack!"

A sharp slap rang through the night sky.

The blow turned Tanjiro's head to the side, and a distinct red mark instantly rose on his left cheek.

Dazed, he held his cheek and stared at Sakonji Urokodaki in disbelief.