Morning sunlight filtered gently through the broken window of the dilapidated house, spilling across the floor in soft, golden streams.
The girl, having slept soundly through the night, slowly opened her eyes. As if by habit, she turned her head—and there, seated by the wooden table, was her uncle, already awake, quietly wiping down the blade in his hands with a cloth.
"Good morning, Uncle."
At her voice, Soma glanced back, a faint smile appearing on his face.
"Good morning, Kanao."
The girl rose quickly, washed up, and returned to him without delay, her tone carrying a rare note of eagerness. "I'm going to practice swordsmanship."
"I'll join you."
Soma handed her the freshly cleaned Nichirin Sword before following her outside. Along the way, he picked up a wooden practice sword he had carved earlier.
Soon, the sharp, rhythmic sounds of training echoed through the small yard.
Before long, the Kamado family began to wake as well, stepping out one by one to see the man and the girl practicing together at the entrance.
Thin trails of smoke rose into the air as cooking fires were lit, drifting away with the morning breeze.
"Hah…"
With another thrust, Kanao finally stopped, her breathing uneven. Soma dodged aside somewhat awkwardly, watching as she rubbed her arm lightly, having failed to fully rein in her strength.
Shaking his head, he said helplessly, "There's no need to hold back on purpose. You know I'll be fine."
"I know, Uncle."
Kanao tilted her head up, offering a bright, sweet smile. "Next time, I won't hold back."
Soma chuckled softly, clearly unconvinced. "I'm afraid next time will be exactly the same."
He had already seen through her little pretense.
"Come on, let's go eat."
Reaching out, he took her hand and led her inside.
The Kamado family had already prepared a hearty meal. With fresh ingredients and Kie's skillful cooking, the food was warm and comforting, and everyone ate with genuine enjoyment. Soma partook as well, eating lightly and sharing a few cups of sake.
By the time the meal ended, the younger children had run off to play, Nezuko had gone to watch over them, and Kie busied herself with washing dishes.
Left seated on the tatami were only Tanjiro, Soma, and Kanao.
Soma poured Tanjiro another cup of sake.
After what had happened the previous night, there was a subtle but undeniable change in the boy. The softness of youth had receded somewhat, replaced by a steadier gaze—one that now held a faint edge.
Tanjiro drank the sake in one go, then looked up at Soma.
"Your father once spoke to you about 'breathing,' didn't he? Did he ever mention 'forms' as well?"
Tanjiro frowned slightly in confusion. "Forms…? What do you mean?"
"I see. Then either he never told you, or perhaps he didn't know himself," Soma said, studying his expression.
Tanjiro remained puzzled.
"The 'breathing' your father spoke of… is actually the 'Sun Breathing'."
"Sun Breathing?"
"Yes. It is also called the origin of all breathing styles—the first and most fundamental form. It was left behind by Yoriichi Tsugikuni, whom your Kamado family has protected for generations. It was he who created it. However, because the power of the Sun Breathing is so overwhelming, it is extremely difficult to inherit. For that reason, the Demon Slayer Corps later derived five basic breathing styles from it."
Soma paused briefly before continuing, his tone calm but deliberate.
"Among all breathing styles, the Sun Breathing is the most effective against demons—far surpassing the others."
This was the first time Tanjiro had ever heard such things, and the revelation left him visibly stunned.
"And paired with breathing… are the sword forms. These forms allow one to better channel the immense power generated by the breathing style, bringing it fully into the body's movements."
"Then… does our Kamado family inherit those forms as well?"
"Yes, you do. Your father may not have told you—or perhaps he never realized it himself—but the sword forms that accompany the Sun Breathing have been hidden all along within your family's traditional Hinokami Kagura dance. That dance does not merely contain the breathing style—it also embodies the corresponding forms."
Tanjiro's eyes widened in astonishment. He had never imagined that the sacred dance passed down through his family carried such profound meaning.
Beside him, Kanao listened quietly, her attention fully drawn into the conversation.
"So now, Tanjiro," Soma said, lifting his cup for another sip before setting it down with a faint smile, "could you tell me about this Hinokami Kagura?"
"…Of course."
Tanjiro nodded without hesitation.
That immediate answer caught Soma slightly off guard. He had expected at least a moment of doubt. As he studied the boy more closely, he realized something subtle—
The faint wariness Tanjiro once held toward him had lessened considerably.
"However… sir," Tanjiro began, hesitating for a moment before voicing the doubt in his heart, "why do you know so much about these things? In fact, there are matters you understand more clearly than even we of the Kamado family do."
He did not immediately begin his explanation. Instead, he studied the demon before him with quiet curiosity. Somehow, this being—this demon—seemed to know more about the Kamado lineage than he himself did.
Soma, of course, had no intention of revealing the truth. Instead, he answered lightly, a trace of humor in his voice.
"Perhaps I really am the reincarnation of a god or Buddha. To someone like me, what you call secrets are nothing more than things plainly seen."
Tanjiro paused, taken aback. Then, after a moment, he replied quietly, "If you truly were a god or Buddha, then you wouldn't need me to explain the Hinokami Kagura to you."
"Ha…"
Soma couldn't help but laugh at that, lifting his cup and taking a sip of sake.
"You're right. If gods or Buddhas truly walked this world, then demons would have long since vanished. Many once said that Yoriichi Tsugikuni was like a god walking among men—but if he truly were divine, how could he have allowed Kibutsuji Muzan to escape? And how could he have ultimately met an ordinary death, aging and passing away helplessly? In the end, he was simply a man—only… far stronger than most."
He set his cup down, the faint amusement fading from his expression.
"Enough of that. Tell me about the Hinokami Kagura passed down through your family."
"…Alright."
Tanjiro nodded.
"The Hinokami Kagura is a ritual dance performed by the Kamado family at the start of each new year, offered to the Fire God in prayer for peace and safety. It consists of twelve forms. The first form is…"
As he spoke, he rose to his feet. In his mind, the image of his father surfaced—the way he had once performed the dance, tireless and unwavering, continuing from dawn until dusk without pause.
Following that memory, Tanjiro began to move.
While he demonstrated the Hinokami Kagura, Soma watched in silence, his gaze steady and intent. At the same time, he asked Tanjiro to describe how his father had breathed while performing it—how his chest rose and fell, how the rhythm flowed.
After completing one full sequence, Tanjiro instinctively slowed, about to stop—but Soma gestured for him to continue.
So he did.
As Tanjiro moved through the dance again, now aware that it contained the sword forms of the Sun Breathing, he began to reflect more deeply on each motion, trying to grasp its hidden meaning.
Soma narrowed his eyes slightly, observing the rhythm of the dance.
A breeze stirred through the courtyard, carrying with it the distant laughter of children at play.
And yet, at that moment, Soma closed his eyes.
Within the darkness of his mind, Tanjiro's movements began to replay—each of the twelve forms unfolding one after another. Gradually, the flowing dance transformed, each motion shifting into the posture of a swordsman.
Every step—the cadence of its placement.
Every flick of the wrist—the precision of its arc.
Each movement aligned with the rhythm that breathing demanded.
His breath deepened, lengthening unconsciously.
The air around him seemed to gather, drawn inward as he inhaled. Oxygen flooded into his lungs in great volume, building and compressing within him. His blood began to surge faster through his veins, and with it came a steady rise in strength.
And then—
A heat, brilliant and fierce, like the sun itself.
As that energy coursed through his body, it clashed against something deep within him, stirring a faint discomfort—like sunlight piercing through darkness, burning away what did not belong.
Time passed.
At last, Soma opened his eyes.
A long breath escaped him, heavy and lingering, as though expelling something impure.
"So this… is the Sun Breathing, and the sword forms that accompany it?"
There was surprise in his voice—but also unmistakable excitement.
When he had first tried to grasp the Hiten Mitsurugi-ryū, true comprehension had required immense effort. Yet now, after only hearing Tanjiro's explanation and observing his movements, everything seemed to fall into place with startling clarity.
It was as though—
in a single instant—
his mind had become sharper, faster…
as if he had suddenly grown smarter.