The frigid air swept across the mountains.
A man dressed in a yellow-and-black patterned robe walked steadily through the deep snow. His body was so thin it seemed little more than skin clinging to bone. A faint scar rested on the left side of his forehead, and his long, dark-red hair fell loosely over his shoulders.
At last, Tanjuro Kamado stopped in front of a cave.
He lifted his dim yet piercing eyes and looked ahead.
This cave—where he had once slain a massive bear—now had new occupants.
Standing at the entrance was a tall man with slightly pale skin and a pair of crimson eyes, quietly watching him.
Tanjuro slowly clenched his fist.
He could feel the life inside his body fading with every passing second. There wasn't much time left.
As a descendant of Sumiyoshi Kamado and a member of the Kamado family line, Tanjuro knew the responsibilities his bloodline carried. Their family had inherited the mission of preserving the Hanafuda earrings of Yoriichi Tsugikuni along with the sacred Kagura dance. Through special breathing techniques, their lineage had sustained vitality across generations.
Because of that legacy, the Kamado family knew that demons truly existed.
But ever since their ancestors withdrew into these mountains, countless years had passed without anyone seeing one.
Though stories of demons were passed down generation after generation, the family had lived peaceful lives. No one had ever encountered such creatures.
Over time, it had begun to feel like those terrifying beings were nothing more than legends.
Even Tanjuro himself had once believed that demons were merely stories—fabrications created by people long ago.
Yet now, staring at the tall man before him… sensing the unnatural vitality within that body…
He knew.
Demons were real.
Under the dim moonlight, before the silent cave—
A man and a demon faced each other across the snow.
"I am Soma. It is an honor to meet you, Mr. Tanjuro." Soma bowed slightly.
Tanjuro's dull eyes narrowed slightly.
This demon knew his name.
Did that mean it had been secretly watching the Kamado family all this time?
Had it waited… until the day his life finally burned out?
In that instant, countless thoughts raced through Tanjuro's mind.
His gaze lowered, growing colder—yet somewhere within it lurked a trace of fear.
It wasn't fear for himself.
A dying man had little left to fear.
What truly frightened him…
Was his family.
Were there other demons nearby?
Was this the only one?
With the little time he had left, could he eliminate every potential threat?
His thoughts turned rapidly.
"Please."
Soma stepped slightly aside, opening the way into the cave.
Tanjuro hesitated.
But in the end, he followed him inside.
He was familiar with this cave—it was where he had once killed that bear. He had been here before.
Yet now the place looked completely different.
Inside, sections of the cave had been carved out into a small living space. There was a bed layered with thick quilts. Nearby stood a simple shelf holding cooking supplies—oil, salt, sauce, vinegar.
In the center burned a small campfire.
Above it hung a pot suspended on a wooden rack, simmering something that gave off a rich, savory aroma.
Beside the pot crouched a delicate-looking girl holding a small spoon.
Her back was turned, so her face couldn't be seen clearly. Her hair was tied into a side ponytail, secured with a jade-green butterfly hairpin.
She wore thick clothing—enough to keep warm even in the harsh winter cold.
Tanjuro cast a glance back at the demon. This girl was not a demon; she was a human. And by all appearances, she was being well cared for.
The sound of their arrival seemed to catch the girl's attention.
She turned around.
Her face was delicate, with a slight softness of baby fat still lingering. Her long eyelashes framed a pair of unusual pinkish-purple eyes.
"Uncle... the stewed chicken will be ready soon. It's going to be delicious. You have to eat a lot today... eat plenty, so you won't be..."
Kanao spoke happily as she turned, but seeing a stranger, she pressed her lips together. She tilted her head, her pretty eyes staring in confusion at this newcomer who looked as though... he weren't breathing at all.
"Ha, I'll definitely have plenty," Soma said with a grin. "After all, Kanao made it."
He walked over to the campfire, then looked up at the man still standing near the entrance.
He gestured toward the fire.
"Please, have a seat."
Tanjuro Kamado swept his gaze across the cave, scanning every corner. After a brief moment of hesitation, he finally stepped forward and silently sat beside the fire.
He still couldn't tell what the demon was planning.
"Kanao, go get the sake." Soma said, lightly patting her head.
"Okay."
Kanao Tsuyuri glanced at the old man who seemed almost devoid of breathing, then skipped lightly toward the back of the cave.
Soma looked at Tanjuro and smiled.
"You don't mind having a drink, do you?"
"A demon that eats humans… drinks alcohol too?" Tanjuro asked coldly, lifting his dull eyes.
Soma shrugged casually.
"I can't taste anything at all. But sometimes I still try."
"What if I could feel even the faintest trace of what it was like when I was human?"
He sighed softly.
"I'd really like to know what it feels like to get drunk… to completely lose myself in it."
Tanjuro sneered inwardly.
The creature in front of him—this monster that fed on human flesh—was pretending to talk about nostalgia.
His gaze shifted toward the girl.
"That girl," he said flatly, "is she the food you're keeping in storage?"
Soma raised his eyes.
Kanao was already running back with a small jar of wine.
He chuckled quietly.
"Mr. Tanjuro, you're already dying. Why make the atmosphere so gloomy with such depressing topics?"
"Then that must be it," Tanjuro said coldly. "Your stored food."
"And if I said she wasn't," Soma replied with a faint smile, "you wouldn't believe me anyway, would you?"
Tanjuro ignored him and scanned the cave again.
"Why is there only one of you? Call out the others."
Soma acted as if he hadn't heard.
He took the sake jar from Kanao and poured two cups.
"You're an old man on the verge of death. A drink won't hurt," he said calmly. "You're going to die anyway. Even if it were poison, it wouldn't make much difference."
He held the cup out.
But Tanjuro didn't take it.
He simply asked again, his voice cold.
"So it's only you?"
Soma chuckled softly.
"I'm offering you a drink, yet all you can think about is killing me."
He lifted his own cup and took a sip, speaking almost as if to himself.
"To humans, demons are terrifying creatures."
"After all, they're practically immortal."
"Ordinary people can't kill demons."
"The only reliable way is to use a Nichirin Sword and cut off the demon's head."
"If you don't do that… the demon won't truly die."
Tanjuro continued staring at him coldly.
The words didn't stir the slightest reaction. He sat there like a lifeless tree—no audible breath, no outward emotion
"But," Soma continued slowly, "even without a Nichirin Sword, there are still people in this world capable of killing demons."
As he said this, he looked directly at the silent Kamado Tanjuro.
"Those who practice Sun Breathing."
"When someone reaches a certain level with that breathing… their attacks begin to carry the power of the sun itself."
Huu…
The man who had shown almost no sign of breathing until now suddenly drew in a sharp breath.
Yes.
Someone who practiced Sun Breathing could inflict unusual burning damage on demons. Even without a Nichirin Sword, that didn't necessarily mean they couldn't kill one.
And yet—
The demon in front of him clearly knew this.
So why would he still dare to stand here…?
"Mr. Tanjuro is wondering why I would dare show myself in front of you, isn't he?"
Soma took another sip of sake.
At that moment, Kanao Tsuyuri approached and placed a full bowl of food in front of him, freshly scooped from the pot.
Soma lowered his crimson eyes slightly and gently patted the girl's head.
"What's there to be afraid of?" he said softly. "At worst… it's just death."
He laughed lightly and drained another cup of sake. The liquid slid down his throat like plain water—he couldn't taste even a trace of alcohol.
Then he looked back at the old man across the fire.
"Mr. Tanjuro isn't afraid of dying. So do you really think… that I would be?"
As he spoke, he casually lifted the edge of a nearby cloth.
Beneath it lay a sword.
A long blade glowing faintly with a fiery crimson hue.
A Nichirin Sword.
A weapon forged specifically to slay demons.
A very fine one, at that.
Soma ran his fingers slowly along the edge of the sword. The faint warmth radiating from it—reminiscent of sunlight—made his skin crawl with instinctive disgust.
After a moment, he lifted his head again and looked straight at Tanjuro Kamado.
His voice was calm.
"I imagine that if Mr. Tanjuro picked up this sword…"
"…you could cut off my head quite easily."
He seemed to be smiling, yet he wasn't. He simply watched the dying man who sat before him like a plant, devoid of breath and emotion.