[Moon Breathing].
It is the first derived form of [Sun Breathing], the root of [Total Concentration Breathing], something I brought forth as if it were my own child.
But although five hundred years have passed since Total Concentration Breathing began, unlike the countless other variants that sprang up like bamboo shoots after rain, never has a purple [Nichirin Blade] appeared to signify its bearer.
Even [Sun Breathing] saw many practitioners, but as if proclaiming [Moon Breathing] to be my exclusive skill, I remained its sole wielder.
Of course, I have spent over five centuries outside the Demon Slayer Corps, severed from their ranks, so I cannot wholly dismiss the possibility that a purple [Nichirin Blade] emerged within their midst...
But really, does any of that matter now?
Before me now stands someone bearing the very same aptitude I possess.
A human capable of inheriting the build I have cultivated through the ages.
It must feel like an endgame veteran encountering a newbie equipped with a fully loaded weapon chest slot.
Yet...
Something is off.
The Total Concentration Breathing he is using is not Moon Breathing.
The steady rhythm of his breath continues.
It did not falter when I charged, when I called his name, nor when I assumed a defensive stance.
That boy maintains his Total Concentration Breathing unceasingly.
The very breathing one reserves for technique use, now sustained continuously in everyday life.
It is an utterly brute-force method, yet it stands as proof that he has reached the first condition for assured mastery: the mid-stage of Total Concentration Breathing.
To reach the mid-stage at such a young age is truly remarkable, but…
From the sound, the Total Concentration Breathing he employs is the Water Breathing.
Though [Water Breathing] is said to be easier to learn and less taxing than other styles, that boy's innate disposition is for Moon Breathing.
A breathing style that does not suit one's body is worse than a rusty blade: either unusable or far less effective than a style that suits one's nature.
And yet he manages to sustain the mid-stage of Total Concentration Breathing with a style unsuited to him...
Fascinating, is it not?
Sustaining the mid-stage of Total Concentration Breathing with a style ill-fitted to one's constitution.
He mirrors me in my past foolishness, when I wielded [Sun Breathing] recklessly.
"I have decided."
I took a step toward the youth.
The kid flinched at my movement but only held his stance, without drawing his sword.
Never did I imagine the day I would utter such words.
Could this, too, be part of Ubuyashiki's plan?
Well, what does it matter now?
I met the gaze of his fox mask's eyes and spoke.
"You will become my disciple."
"No. Why would I?"
…
He flatly refused.
I had attempted to imitate that other man's manner, but apparently that was not the right approach.
Was mimicking him a mistake? Well, he did not succeed either…
**
It had been roughly seven days since I arrived here.
As expected, Urokodaki Sakonji was once a swordsman who rose to the rank of Sui-shu, mastering the pinnacle of [Water Breathing].
Therefore, as a mentor, Urokodaki instructs only [Water Breathing].
I succeeded in making it my own in just a few days.
Besides being the easiest among the breathing styles to learn, the Tenth Form of [Moon Breathing] is the epitome of [Water Breathing], so after hearing the hand seals and mastering them, no great time was required.
In other words, I have already achieved the purpose of coming here.
All that remains is to depart, take the exam, and put Ubuyashiki's worries to rest—but another purpose has arisen, so I cannot leave just yet.
It has to do with that kid swinging his wooden sword over there.
I've been turned down about seven times so far.
He insists on fighting with [Water Breathing].
Yet I cannot simply give up.
As the saying goes, 'a tree not felled in ten chops will fall in the eleventh'—three attempts remain.
"So you're here."
The voice came from below.
"Master."
It was the fox-masked swordsman, Urokodaki Sakonji.
"You still call me that?"
"Once one has received sword instruction, one's master is eternal."
I descended beneath the tree.
"Master, I have never had a disciple like you. I have never truly taught anyone."
"That matters not. I have decided to call you that."
"Is that not affectation?"
"To hide it from a master who can sniff out emotions would be pointless, would it not?"
Urokodaki's eyes widened as though I had struck the true mark.
"Did Himejima tell you?"
"Compared to others, Master, your nose moves in a way that struck me as unusual. I know someone like that."
Sumiyoshi had said as much.
Well, I have not encountered anyone with that constitution in five hundred years since Sumiyoshi.
I wondered if Urokodaki might be a descendant of Sumiyoshi, but to my regret, no trace of Sumiyoshi's cells remained in him.
"Does that not unsettle you?"
"Do you even consider a demon's feelings?"
"Do not answer a question with a question."
Urokodaki's demeanor made the corner of my mouth lift without my realizing it.
"Since I have nothing to hide, it is rather easier for me. There is no need to tack on needless explanations."
"Is that so?"
A moment of silence passed, broken only by the thud of the boy swinging his wooden sword up and down.
"That child is strong. Sabito is."
It was Urokodaki who first shattered that quiet stillness.
"I know."
Even the easiest [Water Breathing], yet to maintain the mid-stage of Total Concentration Breathing when it does not suit his constitution…
His sword spirit is fierce beyond his years.
By talent alone, he might rival our generation.
Even if the Final Selection from five hundred years ago continued unchanged to this day, that boy might pass.
A talent that might earn him the rank of Sui-shu without ever using [Moon Breathing].
However.
"Yet no matter how strong, if one stubbornly clings to a breathing style that does not suit them, they will eventually hit a limit."
I nodded as Urokodaki agreed.
"That is his second sword. His first broke during the third mission."
He pointed to Sabito's [Nichirin Blade].
"He believes the blade snapped because he was weak."
The blade broke for another reason.
Granted, I, too, have snapped one against Upper Moons—blades can break when faced with a powerful adversary.
After all, [Nichirin Blade]s are not unbreakable.
But that boy has not faced the Twelve Kizuki, so let us move to the second hypothesis.
A blade's transformation is not merely its color.
Its unique characteristics change as well.
There is a reason a [Nichirin Blade] is treated as a unique weapon.
A [Nichirin Blade] morphs according to its first owner's aptitudes.
A purple blade adapts to [Moon Breathing], reacting to produce a perfect synergy.
But conversely, it cannot respond to other styles.
A Total Concentration Breathing style unsuited to the blade places undue strain upon it.
The result is inevitable damage.
During combat, a blade may shatter.
For a swordsman, losing one's blade on the battlefield spells death.
"His insistence on using [Water Breathing] would lead that boy to his death."
"I agree."
"I wish I could break his stubbornness, but why he clings to it…"
"I once saved that child from a demon. That was our first meeting."
Urokodaki began to tell the story.
He was staring at the scar on the boy's cheek.
"When he became my disciple and first split rock, he made a promise to me. That he would ascend to the rank of Sui-shu with the sword that saved him, like a man. That promise may be what binds Sabito."
"Is it admiration?"
But he split rock? Well, someone was grunting at an immovable boulder.
"What the...!"
It felt like a hallucination, but…
"Admiration is the emotion furthest from understanding."
Even so, I cannot let his stubbornness prevail.
For I cannot let a novice I met after five hundred years perish before his time.
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