"Let's go, Nezuko. Why are you just standing there? It's time to get on the carriage."
Seeing that everyone else had already boarded while his sister remained rooted in place, Tanjiro couldn't help but call out to her.
"Oh! Right!"
Startled, Nezuko snapped back to her senses and hurried forward with small, quick steps.
"Nezuko, why is your face so red?" Tanjiro asked, puzzled.
"Is it really that red?"
She touched her cheeks, which still felt warm, and murmured, "I must have been too close to the fire just now… that's why."
"Really? I remember you weren't that close to it," Tanjiro said, frowning slightly.
"Then you must be remembering wrong," Nezuko replied seriously, her flushed face set in an earnest expression.
"…Did I?" Tanjiro scratched his head, suddenly unsure.
"Mm."
Nezuko nodded firmly, then quickly stepped past him and climbed into the carriage. As she passed by Soma, she immediately lowered her head, her breathing growing uneven all at once.
Tanjiro watched his sister, who had suddenly become a little strange, and scratched his head again in confusion.
"Let's go," Soma called from the driver's seat.
"Coming!"
Tanjiro leapt lightly onto the carriage and slipped inside. Once seated, he glanced at Nezuko again. The redness on her cheeks had already faded somewhat. Her eyes were gently closed now, her long lashes trembling slightly, her face delicate and soft.
It was only at that moment that Tanjiro realized—his once-familiar little sister had grown more and more beautiful, to the point where she was nearing the age of marriage.
And someday… she would belong to someone else.
Would her future husband treat her well?
At the thought, Tanjiro felt a mix of reluctance and worry.
"Brother, sit over here!"
Takeo called out cheerfully, pulling him back from his thoughts. Tanjiro sat down beside him.
"Brother, Sir taught me a few breathing rhythms today, but I still don't quite understand them. Could you help me?"
"Of course. What part are you having trouble with?"
"It's just… every time I try to breathe that way, it feels really difficult. My throat burns, like it's on fire."
"That's because the energy of Sun Breathing is too intense," Tanjiro explained gently. "You're still young, and your throat isn't strong enough to handle it yet."
"I see… no wonder Sir told me not to practice it too much for now."
Takeo scratched his head, then hugged his brother's arm. "Sir is really good to our family. When I grow up, I'll definitely repay him properly."
Tanjiro glanced at his younger brother, then instinctively looked toward Hanako and Shigeru. Both of them nodded vigorously, clearly feeling the same.
Even when he turned to look at their mother, she too wore a gentle smile.
Lifting a corner of the carriage curtain, Tanjiro peeked outside. Soma sat at the front, holding the reins, sunlight falling across his back.
To this family, that figure seemed impossibly tall.
Lowering his gaze, Tanjiro smiled softly, just like his younger brother.
…
Soon, they arrived at Mount Sagiri.
Mount Sagiri wasn't exceptionally tall, but the path leading up was steep. Since there were no established roads for a carriage, they had to proceed on foot.
"So this is Mount Sagiri…" Tanjiro murmured, gazing at the mist that curled halfway up the mountain.
Soma walked over with a faint smile. 'That's right. Tanjiro, take your siblings and head up the mountain. I'll carry the belongings myself.'"
"Are we… going to live on the mountain?" Kie asked softly.
"Would that be inconvenient for you, Lady Kie? Living in the mountains, I mean…"
"No, Sir. We lived deep in the mountains before. It's just..." She hesitated slightly.
"Don't worry. I'm here," Soma said quietly, sensing her concern.
For some reason, those simple words made all her unease melt away. Lowering her head, she said, "Then I'll help carry some of the belongings too."
"Alright—but don't take too much," he replied gently.
Soma gave a brief word of acknowledgment, then hoisted the heavier belongings onto his back and began making his way up Mount Sagiri. Kanao followed closely behind him like a shadow, while Tanjiro led his younger brothers, Takeo and Shigeru. Nezuko held Hanako's hand, and Kie, with a small bundle slung over one arm, carried little Rokuta in the other.
Step by step, the group moved deeper into the mountain, their pace steady but unhurried.
It was a place rarely visited by outsiders. Their arrival stirred the quiet forest—birds perched among the branches took flight in alarm, and even the secluded resident of this mountain was alerted to their presence.
Standing atop a moss-covered rock, a man wearing a tengu mask—Urokodaki Sakonji—watched the approaching group with a furrowed brow.
Beside him stood a petite girl dressed in a kimono patterned with blue flowers, her face hidden behind a fox mask with closed, smiling eyes. Tilting her head, she observed the newcomers with equal curiosity.
"Sensei, what are they doing?" Makomo asked, her voice light with confusion.
"I have no idea," Urokodaki replied, shaking his head slightly. "Judging by all those belongings… they're not planning to settle here, are they?"
"Sensei… that might actually be the case," Makomo muttered, glancing at the iron pot the young man at the front was carrying.
"Then how about you go and drive them away?" Urokodaki suggested from behind his tengu mask.
"Why don't you go instead, Sensei?" Makomo tilted her head again.
"It wouldn't be appropriate for me to act against women and children," he said, though his gaze had already shifted toward the man leading the group.
For a brief moment, his nose caught something familiar—the faint scent of a demon.
But then he saw the man walking calmly under the sunlight, and the thought seemed almost laughable.
A demon… walking in the sun?
Impossible. He had never seen such a thing, nor even heard of it.
"If even Sensei finds it inappropriate to act, then how could I, as your disciple, do so?" Makomo replied with a small shake of her head. Yet in her heart, she thought differently—ever since she had left, Mount Sagiri had been left with only her beloved teacher. It must have been unbearably lonely.
If these people stayed… perhaps it would bring a little life back to the mountain.
…
Before long, Soma and the others reached the mountainside, where a few simple wooden houses stood.
Everyone paused.
"This place… isn't suitable for ordinary people to live in."
The voice came suddenly from nearby, just as Soma set down his load.
Looking up, he saw two masked figures approaching.
One wore a fierce tengu mask; the other, a gentler fox mask with closed, smiling eyes.
An old man and a young girl.
The old man's mask was intimidating enough that Hanako and Shigeru instinctively shrank back, hiding behind their brother Tanjiro as they peeked at him cautiously.
Tanjiro, however, found his attention drawn to the fox-masked girl. He recognized them—they were among the demon slayers who had once searched for Soma.
Without thinking, he glanced toward Soma, unease rising in his chest. If the girl recognized him…
His hands clenched slightly.
If that happened, he knew he would stand and fight alongside him.
At the same time, Makomo had also recognized Tanjiro. From a distance earlier, she hadn't paid much attention, but now, seeing them clearly, memories surfaced unbidden—the days she had spent hunting demons alongside Furukawa Hiroshi.
It all felt as though it had happened only yesterday.
Those passionate, righteous companions… all of them had died along the way, slaughtered mercilessly by a vicious demon.
Unconsciously, her hand drifted to rest lightly on the hilt of her Nichirin Sword.
"It's fine," Soma said with a faint smile, lifting the axe in his hand slightly. "I'll make this place suitable for living."
Then his gaze settled on Urokodaki Sakonji.
"As it happens, there are also a few things I'd like to ask you about, Urokodaki-san. Staying nearby would make that much more convenient."
With the tengu mask concealing his face, it was impossible to see Urokodaki Sakonji's exact expression—but the surprise in him was unmistakable.
"You know who I am?"
"Yes," Soma replied calmly. "Urokodaki-san, I've made some inquiries. I know you're a highly skilled demon slayer. This time, I've come not only to settle here, but also to have Tanjiro and Nezuko learn from you—how to hunt demons."
Urokodaki fell silent at once, his gaze sweeping over the group.
It lingered first on Soma.
There was something about him—something faint, yet unmistakably similar to the scent of a demon. It even gave him the strange impression of standing before one.
And yet… the man stood openly beneath the sunlight.
That alone made it impossible.
For Urokodaki, this contradiction was deeply unsettling. His sense of smell had always been sharp, reliable—able to distinguish truth from falsehood with precision. But this… this was the first time his instincts had been so completely at odds with what his eyes told him.
Frowning slightly, he shifted his gaze away from Soma and toward the others.
And then, another realization struck him.
From each of them, faint but distinct, he could sense the rhythm of breathing—the mark of those who had begun training in Breathing Styles.
To someone like him, who had devoted his life to such practices, the sensation was impossible to miss.
His brows drew tighter.
In that moment, his mind filled with questions.
"Let me settle things here first," Soma said, as though he had sensed his doubts. His tone remained gentle and unhurried. "I'll come to you afterward to seek guidance. It's getting late, and the children need a place to stay before night falls."
Urokodaki lifted his head, glancing at the dimming sky. After a brief pause, he stepped aside.
"There's an open area not far from here. If you're planning to build, it would be more suitable."
"I hope we won't be disturbing you, Urokodaki-san," Soma said with a mild smile.
A low scoff came from behind the tengu mask. "You've already brought people here and disturbed me."
"My apologies, then."
Soma shook his head lightly before turning to Tanjiro and giving him a firm pat on the shoulder. "Let's get to work. We should at least put up a simple shelter before nightfall."
"Got it!"
Tanjiro and the others nodded immediately.
…
Urokodaki and Makomo did not step forward to help. Instead, they remained at a distance, silently watching as this unexpected group set about their work—cutting timber, clearing space, and beginning construction.
As the only adult man, Soma took on the heaviest labor. With his upper body bare, he carried massive logs across his shoulders, handling nearly all the physically demanding tasks alone.
Tanjiro stayed by his side, assisting wherever he could.
Meanwhile, Kie had already lit a fire and begun preparing food, with the younger children helping out however they were able.
The only one who seemed to have no clear role was Kanao.
It wasn't that she didn't want to help—rather, Soma had gently stopped her, and she herself didn't quite know how to contribute.
Though she had gradually begun to emerge from the silent, closed-off world she once lived in under Soma's care, she still wasn't like other girls her age. Around him, she could respond quickly, almost instinctively—but in other situations, her reactions remained slow, uncertain.
So instead, Soma had her continue her training on her own.
Compared to the lively, coordinated efforts of the Kamado family—busy, tired, yet filled with warmth and a sense of togetherness—Urokodaki and Makomo, standing apart, seemed almost lonely in contrast.
"Sensei, that girl… she looks quite strong," Makomo said after a while, her gaze settling on Kanao, who was training nearby.
"It appears she is practicing a rare style focused on 'Fighting Spirit,'" Urokodaki replied, his eyes narrowing behind the mask.
"Fighting Spirit?" Makomo echoed, puzzled.
"It is a specific school of combat," he explained. "While the Demon Slayer Corps relies on Breathing Styles to temporarily raise human physical capabilities to match a demon's, the 'Fighting Spirit' style relies on sensing an opponent's intent—their aura—to react, defend, or counter. The stronger the opponent's spirit, the faster the perception."
Makomo frowned slightly, confusion flickering in her voice. "But if an opponent has no 'Fighting Spirit,' wouldn't they become invisible to her?"
Urokodaki shook his head. "Everyone possesses it from the moment they're born. Even infants are no exception—it's simply part of being human."
After a brief pause, he continued, his tone growing more contemplative. "However, I've heard that if one reaches the realm known as the Transparent World, they can completely conceal their own aura. In the past, some of the Demon Slayer Corps' predecessors achieved it… but now, no one can. Even I have yet to reach that level."
As he spoke of the Transparent World, a trace of longing surfaced in his eyes.
Once, the one he had placed the greatest hopes on… had been Sabito.
He had believed that, if Sabito had lived and continued to grow, he might have reached that realm.
But Sabito…
The thought dimmed the old man's expression, a quiet shadow passing over him. Noticing that Makomo was still listening intently, he continued.
"Speaking of Fighting Spirit, the most notable example would be Akaza—the Upper Rank Three among the Twelve Kizuki. His mastery of it has reached an extraordinary level. Several Hashira of the Demon Slayer Corps have fallen at his hands."
"Akaza…" Makomo murmured, narrowing her eyes slightly as her hand rested against the hilt of her Nichirin Sword. "Sensei, compared to him… who is stronger—you, or Akaza?"
Faced with his disciple's question, Urokodaki fell into thought. After a long moment, he shook his head.
"We've never crossed blades, so there's no way to know for certain. But… as I am now, I doubt I would be his match."
"Even you… wouldn't be able to defeat him?" Makomo asked, a hint of surprise in her voice.
"I'm no longer in my prime," Urokodaki replied quietly. "If it were me at my peak, I would have the confidence to win."
A faint sigh escaped him.
"That's why hunting demons is so difficult. When it comes to true high-level strength, the Demon Slayer Corps simply cannot compare to demons. For humanity to completely eradicate them… it is an extraordinarily difficult path."
Makomo lifted her head, a bright, gentle smile appearing beneath her fox mask.
"And yet, no matter how difficult it is, we've never given up. We're still walking that path, aren't we?"
Her voice was soft, but filled with quiet conviction.
"You may be growing old, Sensei… but your disciples will carry on in your place. Demons may possess near-eternal lifespans…"
She tightened her grip slightly on her blade, her smile unwavering.
"…but humanity endures through inheritance. Our will never dies."