News of the complete slaughter of the "Renyi Syndicate" spread rapidly through the town, passing from mouth to mouth like wildfire. In the slums, many people celebrated openly, their long-suppressed resentment finally given release. Laughter and relief filled the air in places that had once been heavy with silence.
And yet, for the one who had taken part in it all, there was no such ease.
For Tanjiro, the act of taking a life—of gripping a blade and ending another person's existence—was not something his gentle nature could accept so readily. Even now, the weight of it lingered in his heart, refusing to fade.
He stepped into a small food shop and purchased a chicken along with some ingredients for lunch.
"Tanjiro, buying this much again?" the shopkeeper said as he cleaned the chicken and handed it over. After taking the payment, he sighed lightly. "Spending like this… what about your future?"
The man knew the boy's circumstances well. Over the past few days, Tanjiro had been spending far more than usual.
"It's what my uncle asked me to get."
Tanjiro looked up with a bright, easy smile.
"I see. I've heard about that relative staying at your place—been there for days now, hasn't he? Sounds like he's been taking good care of your family. You're lucky to have someone like that."
Tanjiro scratched his head and gave an awkward laugh, saying nothing more.
"Oh, by the way… have you heard about the Renyi Syndicate?" the shopkeeper added casually as he counted out the change, though there was a clear note of excitement in his voice.
Tanjiro, who had been about to leave, paused slightly. Lowering his gaze, he replied, "I've heard… someone broke in at night and killed them all. It sounded… quite brutal."
"Brutal?" The shopkeeper let out a laugh and shook his head. "No, no—that's not brutality. That's justice! They deserved it, every last one of them."
His tone grew more animated as he spoke.
"If there were more people like that, those scoundrels wouldn't dare run wild like they did. If that person ever came into my shop, I'd give him everything for free!"
Tanjiro glanced down at the items in his hands, then back at the shopkeeper, his smile tinged with uncertainty.
"…Was it really such a good thing?"
"Of course it was!" the shopkeeper replied without hesitation. "Haven't you noticed? Business has been better these past few days. Look around—people are smiling again."
As he spoke, he gestured toward the nearby stalls.
"Before, those Renyi thugs would come around extorting money, even snatching things outright. Now? They're gone. Just like that."
Following his gaze, Tanjiro looked out at the street.
And it was true.
The once lifeless, oppressive atmosphere had lifted, replaced by a faint but unmistakable sense of vitality.
Carrying his purchases, Tanjiro made his way home. Along the road, he passed familiar faces, exchanging greetings here and there. Fragments of conversation drifted into his ears—
"Hey, did you hear? The Renyi Syndicate's been wiped out."
"You're just hearing about it now?"
"Yeah, just today—but honestly, good riddance!"
"Those bastards deserved to die. It would be even better if someone killed a few of those 'Doushin' from the local constabulary too. Some of those officials are just as rotten."
"Heh, I heard that after the Syndicate died, several of the officials have been too scared to leave their houses."
…
Tanjiro picked up a few more items along the way, listening to the chatter around him.
And somewhere along that walk, the heavy stone that had been pressing against his chest began to lift.
A small smile appeared on his lips.
Looking down at the food in his hands, he quickened his pace, his steps noticeably lighter than before.
Before he even reached the house, he heard it—
Sharp voices, calls of exertion, echoing through the air.
Drawn by the sound, Tanjiro hurried forward. Soon, he saw them: in the open space before the house, his younger siblings stood with wooden swords in hand, training under Soma's guidance.
Hanako's movements were clumsy, her form unsteady as she tried to mimic what she had seen. Takeo, on the other hand, already showed some promise—his swings carried enough force to stir the air with a faint whistle. Little Shigeru wobbled through his attempts, barely managing to keep his balance.
As for Nezuko…
She was sparring with Kanao.
No—being completely overwhelmed by her.
In a swift exchange, Nezuko was knocked to the ground. Yet she sprang back up almost immediately, unwilling to accept defeat, gripping her wooden sword tightly as she rushed forward again—only to be struck down just as quickly.
Her eyes reddened at once, frustration and determination brimming within them.
Tanjiro couldn't help but feel a flicker of concern for Nezuko. Yet the moment that capable girl—Kanao—cast her gaze in his direction, he instinctively shrank back, his shoulders tightening. Almost as if recalling the sting of a wooden stick striking his wrist, he quickly lowered his head, afraid of drawing her attention.
Nezuko had just been knocked to the ground, her face smudged with dust. The moment she spotted her brother, her eyes lit up—but almost immediately, she saw him shrink under Kanao's glance, and her cheeks puffed up in mild frustration.
At that moment, Kamado Kie approached, her pink apron tied neatly around her waist, dressed in a fresh set of clothes. The fatigue that once lingered on her face had faded considerably, replaced by a gentle flush of health. Her hair was neatly gathered atop her head, and her expression carried a lightness that had long been absent.
"Tanjiro, you're back."
She walked toward him briskly.
"Yes, Mother. I've bought everything."
Tanjiro handed over the ingredients.
Kie nodded, accepting them before speaking softly, "Go wash your hands, and then join your master for training."
"Right!" Tanjiro responded eagerly.
As Kie took the ingredients, she turned slightly and gave a respectful bow toward the man who was patiently guiding Takeo's movements, adjusting his stance by hand.
Soma acknowledged her with a small nod.
Only then did she turn and make her way back toward the kitchen, her steps light and unhurried.
Tanjiro watched her retreating figure for a moment.
Ever since his father had fallen ill, the burden of the household had rested entirely on his mother's shoulders. For so long, her back had seemed weighed down by something invisible—no matter how much she tried to hide it, that heaviness had always lingered in the air around her.
But now…
Something had changed.
Almost unconsciously, Tanjiro lifted his gaze toward the man standing in the courtyard, patiently instructing his younger brother. Through the faint nuances of scent—something he had always been sensitive to—Tanjiro could tell that this man's presence in their home was not born purely of kindness. There was something else mixed within it… something faintly directed at him.
And yet—
Looking at the house that had once been shrouded in gloom, now freed from its oppressive shadow… seeing it bathed in warm sunlight, filled with laughter and ease… watching his siblings smile without worry…
Tanjiro suddenly felt as though something within him had settled.
His back straightened, his steps firm as he walked forward.
"Sir, I'm back."
"…Mm."
Soma nodded, his eyes resting on the boy, who now seemed subtly different. A faint smile touched his lips.
"Then let's begin."
Taking up a wooden sword, Tanjiro joined the training once more. This time, however, he cast aside all hesitation. No longer distracted by doubt or second thoughts, he devoted himself entirely to each movement, each breath.
Watching him, Soma's smile deepened.
He had not approached Tanjiro out of pure goodwill. Perhaps there was a trace of sympathy for the boy's family—but far more than that, it was for his own purposes.
Tanjiro, after all, was perceptive.
Though still young, and unable to fully grasp everything now, time would grant him clarity. One day, he would understand.
But what of it?
Even if he understood, what could he change?
It was no different from the story of Wu Qi of the Warring States—how the general personally sucked the poisoned pus from a soldier's wound. Did that soldier not understand that Wu Qi sought his absolute loyalty? Did the soldier's mother not realize that her son would one day be sent to risk his life for the general's ambitions?
And yet…
What choice did they have?
In the end, Soma was doing much the same.
He watched the boy standing under the sunlight, sweat glistening as he trained with unwavering focus, and slowly clenched his fist.
Tanjiro… stake your life on this.
For me… and for yourself.
Kill Kibutsuji Muzan.
And this, after all, was the boy's original destiny.