At eight in the morning, two young girls wearing purple kimonos appeared in the plaza.
One had white hair, the other black. Both wore their hair in neat bob cuts that framed their faces, and each had a wisteria flower hairpin at her left temple.
They were the daughters of the Ubuyashiki family. Their father, Kagaya Ubuyashiki, was the current leader of the Demon Slayer Corps. Acting on his orders, they had come to preside over the Final Selection on Fujikasane Mountain.
The two girls walked gracefully across the plaza to the entrance of the mountain path. Turning to face the crowd, they silently surveyed the participants.
The once-noisy plaza fell completely silent.
The white-haired girl spoke first.
"Thank you all for coming to participate in the Demon Slayer Corps Final Selection."
The black-haired girl continued,
"Behind us lies Fujikasane Mountain, where demons captured by the Demon Slayer Corps are imprisoned."
The white-haired girl said,
"These demons cannot leave because the area from here to the mountainside is covered in wisteria flowers, which they abhor."
The black-haired girl added,
"To pass the selection, you must survive in the mountain for seven days."
The white-haired girl continued,
"After seven days, at this same time and place, we will return to issue uniforms, identification, and the materials needed to forge your Nichirin Blades."
The black-haired girl concluded,
"Those who die—or attempt to flee into the wisteria forest—will not be considered to have passed."
The white-haired girl gave the final words:
"For those who perish, the Ubuyashiki family will provide compensation. Those who abandon the trial will never be recruited."
Both girls bowed in unison.
"We wish you all good luck."
They then stepped aside to either end of the path, maintaining a respectful half-bow as the participants began their ascent.
The Ubuyashiki family had led the Demon Slayer Corps for nearly a thousand years. Even their children carried themselves with humility and grace—it was no wonder they inspired such loyalty.
Kimura led his group of dozens up the stone steps with an imposing air, while Cold Cry and Kanroji Noe remained at the very back.
As they passed the girls, Kanroji Noe deliberately bowed in return.
They continued climbing until they reached the midpoint of the mountain, where the stone path abruptly ended, giving way to a narrow dirt trail choked with weeds.
A wide clearing lay ahead.
Sunlight streamed through a gap in the canopy above, illuminating the ground. It felt like a boundary—one that separated safety from death.
Beyond it stretched the dense forest, thick with unseen dangers. Yet for those who survived, glory awaited—for themselves and their families.
In this era of rampant demons, joining the Demon Slayer Corps was a matter of pride.
It was still daytime. Aside from the deepest parts of the forest, demons would not act recklessly under the sun. Nightfall, however, was another matter entirely.
Everyone understood this.
So many chose to treat the clearing as a temporary refuge, including Kimura's group.
After all, once they entered the forest, there was no guarantee of finding another safe zone. Encountering a demon too soon could mean instant failure—or death.
At least here, under the sunlight, they were safe for the time being.
Kimura stepped forward, asserting his leadership.
"Everyone, let's rest here for now. There's sunlight, so demons won't approach. We need to conserve our strength for what lies ahead."
"Right, right."
"Captain Kimura is correct."
The group quickly agreed, settling down to rest. Some pulled out water and began to drink.
Kimura sat on a smooth stone near Eimi.
Eimi looked downcast, still affected by what had happened earlier.
Not long after, a figure in white appeared at the edge of the path.
Only then did everyone realize they had completely forgotten about him.
Cold Cry's expression remained indifferent. While the others looked tense—like prey sensing danger—he seemed as relaxed as if he were taking a stroll.
Without acknowledging anyone, he walked straight through the resting crowd, passed along a narrow side path, and, under countless astonished gazes, calmly entered the forest.
Behind him followed the timid girl in pink.
Kanroji Noe kept her head lowered the entire time, clearly uncomfortable under everyone's scrutiny. Her timid demeanor made others uneasy, yet she followed him without hesitation.
"See?" Kimura said, watching their retreating figures. "I told you she didn't need your pity. If she were truly afraid, she wouldn't have followed him."
Hearing this, Eimi finally relaxed.
---
The forest was eerily silent.
A damp, musty smell lingered in the air. A single yellow leaf drifted down, landing softly among the others.
Two figures walked along an overgrown path.
One was a young man dressed in white, the other a girl in pink, her head bowed as though she had done something wrong.
They were Cold Cry and Kanroji Noe.
They descended a gentle slope and arrived at a narrow, straight path.
Cold Cry suddenly stopped.
Caught off guard, Kanroji Noe bumped into his back.
Beyond the impact on her forehead, there was an unmistakable softness.
A strange sensation stirred in Cold Cry's otherwise icy heart.
He turned, irritation flashing in his eyes—but his gaze inadvertently dropped.
His expression stiffened.
Flustered, he quickly looked away, his cheeks faintly warming.
How could a girl of seventeen or eighteen have such… proportions?
Fortunately, Kanroji Noe hadn't noticed. She still kept her head down.
Cold Cry took a steadying breath and spoke coldly,
"Why are you following me?"
Startled, her body trembled. She didn't dare look up as she stammered,
"I… I don't know who else to follow. They… they don't want me."
They don't want you? Do you think I do?
Why are women so troublesome?
"We're here for the selection," he said flatly. "Not to make friends. There's no need to stick together."
Kanroji Noe suddenly raised her head, eyes shining.
"Does that mean you're willing to be friends with me?"
She leaned forward excitedly, nearly hitting his chin.
Cold Cry dodged just in time, his expression turning blank.
This woman's thought process completely baffled him.
Had she not understood a single word he said?
He hadn't even meant "making friends" seriously—it was just something he said offhand to brush her off.
And yet, somehow… she had taken it seriously.