"Mm—mm!! Mmmmmm!!"
The box on Tanjiro's back shook violently—Nezuko was going out of her mind inside.
"Hey! Don't come out! It's daytime!"
Inosuke complained with his mouth, but his hand was honest as he patted the box on Tanjiro's back.
"Mm!"
Only then did the box finally calm down.
"Flashy! This is seriously flashy!"
Tengen Uzui strode over laughing, slapping Inosuke hard on the back—so hard it nearly made Inosuke cough up blood just after catching his breath.
"This god of festivals thought you made a truly flashy exit!
Who knew you weren't dead! That kind of surprise—very flashy!"
"W–wah… Inosuke-kun…"
Mitsuri Kanroji covered her face, tears still flowing.
She wanted to rush in for a hug, but mindful of propriety, she could only grab Inosuke's arm and shake it nonstop.
"I'm so glad… really, really glad… I thought I'd never hear you say my hair was cool again…"
"Hmph."
Obanai Iguro stood behind Mitsuri, his mismatched eyes coldly fixed on the arm she was holding.
"You just got lucky.
If you make Mitsuri cry like that again… I'll throw you into a snake pit."
His words were vicious, but the hand hidden in his sleeve quietly relaxed.
Sanemi Shinazugawa stormed over, scratching his head irritably, then gave Inosuke a light punch on the head.
"You brat! If you weren't dead, you should've come back sooner! You made me just now—tch."
He turned his head away, ears slightly red. Almost crying earlier was absolutely not something he would admit.
Gyomei Himejima clasped his hands together, tears pouring even harder.
"Namu Amida Butsu… this is the blessing of the gods… this child's fate was not to end…"
"I want to be your friend… your sidekick… I'll think about it…"
Muichiro Tokito also came over, a faint smile on his face for once.
"Why is everyone crowding around here?"
Only Giyu Tomioka still looked somewhat lost, but the dead emptiness in his eyes had finally regained its light.
He stepped forward, stared at Inosuke for a long moment, then blurted out stiffly:
"How did you live?
(…I'm glad you're not dead.)"
Everyone: "..."
"All right, all right, stop crowding! You're sucking all the air out!"
Inosuke pushed everyone away.
"Caw! Attention! Attention!"
A Kasugai Crow swooped overhead, circling.
Master Kagaya Ubuyashiki, upon learning that Inosuke was alive, had returned. Some things were better said face to face—especially with this young lord who never played by the rules.
Supported by his daughters, Kagaya approached with a gentle smile.
"Inosuke,"
his voice was like a spring breeze.
"Since you have returned safely, and possess the strength to independently slay an Upper Rank… the posthumous appointment still stands."
"From today on, you are officially one of the Demon Slayer Corps'—Ice Hashira."
"Huh? Ice Hashira? That sounds awful."
Inosuke picked at his ear, face full of disdain.
"Nope.
What's so good about being a Hashira? Meetings, running around everywhere, babysitting a bunch of weirdos—exhausting."
"This young lord isn't doing a loss-making job like that."
Dead silence.
Rejecting the rank of Hashira? A first in the Corps' history. Something countless people dreamed of—and this kid was calling it a hassle?
"Oh my, that's such a shame,"
Shinobu Kocho stepped forward with a smile, wagging one finger in front of Inosuke.
"I was just about to tell you—becoming a Hashira comes with many privileges."
"For example… you can apply for exclusive activity funds from the Corps. Unlimited amount.
Buy whatever you want, eat whatever you want.
Even emptying all the specialty shops in Asakusa can be reimbursed."
"…?!"
Inosuke's ears shot straight up, multicolored eyes sparkling with sudden wisdom.
"Unlimited?!"
"Eat anything I want?!"
"Yes, indeed," Shinobu smiled like a fox.
Inosuke immediately straightened, adjusted his tattered collar, and put on a righteous expression.
"As a member of the Demon Slayer Corps, slaying demons is my duty!"
"Tired? That's something only the weak complain about! The position of Hashira—if not me, then who?!"
"Quick! Where do I get that funding? I want to advance one hundred million!"
Everyone: "..."
But Inosuke's mind was racing.
He suddenly realized something and whipped around to face Giyu and Obanai.
"Wait—if Hashira can freely advance funds…"
He walked up to Giyu and held out his hand.
"Then why haven't you paid me back for the meals you owe, plus emotional damages, plus social-skills coaching fees?"
Giyu blinked.
"You didn't ask me to advance funds."
Veins popped at Inosuke's temple.
"Then what about you, Obanai?! You look rich! You even said you'd throw me in a snake pit—add another emotional damage fee!"
Obanai sneered.
"You want money? Then let's calculate how many times you made Mitsuri cry."
"Just in the past hour, Mitsuri shed more tears than she did in the entire past year. How do you want to settle that?"
"Want to fight?"
"Hah?!"
Inosuke nearly bit someone.
"You were the ones holding a funeral! And you blame me?!"
Just then, Kyojuro Rengoku laughed heartily and walked over, patting Inosuke on the shoulder.
"Hahahaha! Inosuke, my boy! I'm so glad you're safe!"
Inosuke's eyes lit up.
Right—there was still an honest guy here.
"Big brother! You're a Hashira too, right? You can advance funds!"
"Back on the Mugen Train, I saved your life. That one hundred million gold guardian fee—time to settle up, yeah?"
Rengoku froze for a moment, then nodded solemnly.
"So we can advance funds! I had no idea!"
"As a man, debts must be repaid! Though borrowing money isn't my style—since it's for Inosuke…"
"I'll go ask the Master right now! Even if I have to sell my ancestral home, I'll gather the money!"
And he actually turned to leave.
Tanjiro rushed forward and hugged Rengoku around the waist.
"Rengoku-san! Don't! Inosuke's joking! One hundred million would bankrupt the Corps!"
As the farce escalated—
"HEY! BRAT!!"
A furious shout rang out.
Haganezuka Hotaru, wearing his fiery mask, charged over wielding two swords. Behind him, Tecchin and Kotetsu followed, carrying supplies.
"My swords! My masterpieces!"
Haganezuka shoved the two brand-new Nichirin swords into Inosuke's arms and promptly lost his mind.
"Thank goodness… the swords are here, and you're here…"
"I thought these two were going to be buried with you…"
Inosuke took the blades.
The left scabbard was ice-blue, radiating cold.
The right scabbard was blazing red.
He drew them.
Unlike other Hashira blades, they bore no inscription of Destroy Evil. Instead, the blades were lined with ferocious yet elegant serrations—each tooth carefully honed to tear flesh and catch enemy weapons.
Top-tier craftsmanship.
"Not bad, big-eyed man,"
Inosuke swung them a few times. The feel was excellent.
Then Kotetsu timidly stepped forward, holding a polished ancient blade—the one retrieved from Yoriichi Type Zero.
"Big brother… this is for you too.
I polished it. It's old, but really sharp."
Inosuke glanced at Tanjiro and Zenitsu.
"Hey, one of you take it."
Tanjiro shook his head.
"I already have a sword. And this is Kotetsu's sincerity. You taught me how to defeat the doll—it should be yours."
Zenitsu shook his head like a rattle drum.
"No way! One sword is already heavy enough—two would kill me!"
"Tch, no taste."
Inosuke grabbed the ancient blade and slung it onto his back.
"Fine. I'll reluctantly accept it."
Two serrated blades at his waist.
One ancient blade on his back.
Three-Sword Style: Hashibira Inosuke—officially online.
"All right!"
Inosuke finished gearing up, retied his hair, and waved at Tanjiro and Zenitsu.
"Since I didn't die, we're still celebrating the New Year."
"Let's go! Gonpachiro! Wenyi!
And you in the box!"
"Follow this young lord home—New Year at the Eternal Paradise Cult!"
"Huh? Really going?"
Zenitsu hesitated.
"We just came back from there a few days ago…"
"Stop whining! There's tempura! And free hot springs!"
Inosuke grabbed one with each hand and dragged them downhill.
"Wait, Inosuke!"
Tanjiro shouted.
"That's the wrong way! That road doesn't lead to the cult!"
"Who said we're going straight home?"
Inosuke looked back, flashing a sly grin.
"First stop—Asakusa."
"New Year's coming. Gotta buy some souvenirs, right? Otherwise my mom will nag me to death."
The real reason, of course, was Tamayo.
He needed to see how her research was progressing.
And now that Upper Rank Five's blood flowed in his veins—this sample would be priceless to her.
As the sun dipped low—
Watching the three boys bicker and vanish into the distance, those at the Butterfly Mansion smiled with relief.
"What lively kids,"
the Master sighed, turning back with his daughters. The other Hashira dispersed as well, preparing for the coming New Year and missions.
Only Shinobu remained.
The smile on her face slowly faded, replaced by profound gravity.
As the Insect Hashira—master of pharmacology and the human body—her observational skills were the sharpest among them.
Earlier, while Inosuke was surrounded, she'd taken the chance to lightly check his wrist under the pretense of an examination, carefully observing his exposed skin.
Too clean.
He had fought Upper Rank Five.
No matter how strong he was—no matter if he had awakened the mark—how could he have no injuries at all?
Not even scratches. No bruises. Not even the muscle fatigue typical after battle.
Aside from a slightly elevated body temperature, his condition was flawless—like he'd just woken up.
And…
Shinobu recalled the sensation when she touched his pulse.
The rhythm.
The sound of blood flow.
It was faint—but as a toxin specialist, she sensed something… off.
That wasn't the pulse of a purely human body.
"Inosuke-kun…"
Shinobu stared at the empty mountain path, waves crashing in her heart.
"What exactly… are you hiding?"
"At the Swordsmith Village… what really happened?"
A cold wind passed through. Shinobu tightened her haori.
She told no one of her discovery.
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