It was fifteen days later when Asuka saw Shinsuke again.
The afternoon sun lounged lazily over Asuka, who was dressed in a set of coarse, worn cloth. Warmth seeped into his body.
Holding his Nichirin Blade, Asuka stretched with steady, even force, acclimating to a body that was steadily recovering.
"By the god above, you really are made of iron, child..."
Aunt Matsumoto sat beneath the eaves, grinding medicine with a pestle as she sighed in amazement. "Back then, the old man had his leg gored clean through by a wild boar and couldn't get out of bed for three whole months. And you? How long has it even been? You're almost fully healed already!"
Asuka slowly withdrew his stance and exhaled a long, turbid breath.
Truthfully, he was puzzled as well. Two weeks really was too fast.
Even if he felt his life was unusually resilient, it shouldn't have been to this extent.
Was it because of his nature as a soul from Rukongai... or was it that Asauchi...
From the first time he released the Asauchi and used it to wound Sanemi Shinazugawa, he had noticed something. His Reiatsu seemed to carry an intense predatory urge, stealing a portion of the opponent's energy and feeding it back to himself.
Could it be because it had taken power that once belonged to Beninuma?
Asuka shook his head, setting those thoughts aside for now, and said calmly, "It's because Aunt Matsumoto's medicine works wonders."
The woman clearly wasn't impressed by flattery. She clicked her tongue and looked him over, marveling at his solid physique.
"Being young really is nice. But don't you go acting reckless just because your body's strong! You'll need to be careful from now on. Learn to cherish your body, child!"
Just as she finished speaking, a familiar and slightly hurried set of footsteps came from outside the courtyard, followed by Rintaro's unmistakably loud voice.
"Aunt Matsumoto! Brother Asuka! We're back!"
Asuka lifted his gaze and saw Rintaro, Akemi, and someone he knew even better—Shinsuke.
The three of them looked travel-worn, Demon Slayer uniforms speckled with mud and bits of grass, exhaustion plain on their faces.
When Shinsuke saw Asuka, his eyes lit up, his whole body radiating the relief and excitement of a mission successfully completed.
He led the other two forward quickly, Rintaro carrying a bulging cloth bundle over his shoulder.
"Good afternoon," Asuka said, gathering his goodwill into a characteristically cool greeting.
"Looks like you've recovered nicely! Excellent, excellent. I told you it was right to focus on healing!"
"...You were a few days late getting back to Hayama. Did you run into trouble?"
Shinsuke scratched his head, his smile tinged with slyness and quiet pride.
"No trouble, really. Just... took a small detour." He stepped aside, signaling Rintaro to come forward.
Rintaro carefully set down the bundle and unwrapped it layer by layer. Inside was a neatly folded, brand-new set of clothing—the Demon Slayer Corps uniform.
The deep black fabric was as dark as night, gleaming with supple luster under the sunlight, and surprisingly cool to the touch.
On the back of the jacket, the character [Slay] was embroidered in striking white thread. The cuffs and hem were woven with dense, hidden wisteria patterns using a special stitch—uniform, powerful, and precise.
Beside the uniform lay a crest bearing the paulownia emblem, symbol of a Demon Slayer's identity.
Made of brass, it felt heavy in the hand, its edges polished smooth and shining.
"This is..." Asuka froze for a moment. Of course he knew what it was—wasn't this exactly what Shinsuke and the others wore?
According to Shinsuke, Demon Slayer uniforms were specially made. Not only were they highly breathable and resistant to heat and cold, they could even prevent demons below the mid-tier from injuring the wearer's body.
"It's yours, Asuka!" Rintaro boomed, flashing him a thumbs-up.
Akemi nodded vigorously beside him. "The Master personally approved it! Don't worry!"
Shinsuke added, "After returning to Hayama and reporting your case, I brought Mr. Arasaki's handwritten letter and these two along, and made a special trip to Mount Fujikasane. We submitted a detailed report to the Kakushi division in charge of the Final Selection, as well as to the Ubuyashiki residence!"
"We reported everything by the stream—especially the fact that you personally slew the great demon named Beninuma!"
He lifted the black uniform, his tone filled with respect.
"You defeated a demon who possessed a Blood Demon Art and had devoured more than fifty people. Your strength far surpasses that of ordinary trainees. Combined with your courage to face the enemy alone, and your resolve to honor your promise even while gravely wounded, there's no need for you to attend the Mount Fujikasane selection to prove anything!"
"Asuka! The Master has already issued his decision. As an exception, you've been inducted into the Demon Slayer Corps. You are now a fully qualified [Demon Slayer]!"
As he spoke, he handed the uniform to Asuka and pinned the emblem to his chest.
The Master...
This was someone Shinsuke and Instructor Arasaki had mentioned many times—a leader of the Demon Slayer Corps said to be wise and magnanimous.
Asuka hadn't expected such a person to make a special exception for a trainee he'd never even met.
What kind of man was he...?
Asuka weighed the seemingly light uniform in his hands, feeling the heavy responsibility it represented, strange emotions surging in his chest.
Did this mean he finally had an organization? A place to belong?
He had once joined street gangs in Rukongai, but those either forced him to do things against his conscience or drove him away through ruthless exploitation.
Would this Demon Slayer Corps be a place he could truly settle into...?
"...Thank you." Asuka's voice was hoarse. He lifted his head, his gaze sweeping over Shinsuke, Rintaro, and Akemi's sincere, encouraging faces. "Thank you, all of you."
"Hey, no need to thank us!" Rintaro slapped Asuka's shoulder hard and grinned. "We're comrades now! Just make sure you've got my back when we're cutting down demons!"
"Hey! Rintaro! Asuka's body!" Akemi shot him an irritated glare.
"Ah! Sorry, sorry!"
After the lively commotion settled, Shinsuke told Asuka that Demon Slayers still had to personally select the Tamahagane used to forge their Nichirin Blades. So even though it was a bit troublesome, he would need to make another trip to Mount Fujikasane to see if he could find steel suited to him before the trials ended.
Asuka nodded and slipped the Demon Slayer uniform over his coarse clothes.
He turned back and gave a deep bow to Aunt Matsumoto, who sat beneath the eaves, nodding at him repeatedly.
"Aunt Matsumoto, thank you for taking care of me all this time."
His words were heartfelt. Aunt Matsumoto wiped at the corner of her eye, her face filled with pride and reluctance. "Good child... once you put on that uniform... you must be even more careful. Come back and visit when you can!"
Asuka nodded firmly.
Several days later, Hayama, at the mountain gate.
Dusk fell, the last strands of golden sunset spilling across the training grounds, spreading a layer of warm afterglow.
The trainees had long since dispersed. Now only Tetsushin Arisaki remained, standing with his back to the gate, wielding a heavy wooden sword with his remaining right arm. Facing the mountains stained by the sunset, he slowly adjusted his breathing.
Footsteps stopped outside the gate.
Arisaki did not turn around. His weathered face was obscured by the shadows of the setting sun. His low, resonant voice carried neither joy nor anger.
"You're late."
"Teacher, I'm back."
Tetsushin Arisaki slowly turned, his deep-set eyes scanning the newcomer inch by inch.
They passed over the brand-new black uniform that signified official membership.
Over the gleaming paulownia emblem on his chest.
And finally settled on his face—a young visage that had shed some of its gloom and wariness, replaced by steadiness and restraint.
"How are your injuries?"
"Yes. Thanks to Aunt Matsumoto's care, I'm fully recovered."
"Hmm... good. It's good that you're back."
The severity in Arisaki's gaze softened as he walked toward him.
Before Asuka could even react, the old man—unyielding as iron—pulled him into an embrace with his single arm.
"...You really are a troublesome brat."