Chapter 19: The Kasugai Crow and Home
After seeing Haganezuka off, Asuka's expression only grew more complicated.
[The wind is light and flowing—an invisible hand brushing over mountain ridges…
The wind is violent and fierce—a blade granted by heaven, tearing through clouds and sky…
So what is this?
This isn't wind. It isn't fire. It isn't stone either.
Why did it become colorless?!
You brat—what in the world are you? What kind of breathing turns a blade I forged with my life into this?!
Gah—! I'll kill you, you bastard!!!]
The swordsmith's furious outburst left behind a knot of doubt in Asuka's chest.
Was he… not suited to Wind Breathing after all?
Had the Nichirin blade faded because of him?
"Haganezuka-dono is… just like that," Arasaki said calmly as they watched the enraged swordsmith storm away. "His world is nothing but blades. He speaks bluntly and has a terrible temper—but his heart isn't a bad one."
"As for the color," Arasaki continued, giving Asuka's shoulder a gentle pat, "it's rare, yes—but it's not something to worry about."
He looked at Asuka with steady, reassuring eyes.
"Asuka, a sword's color proves nothing. As long as the one who wields it holds a heart devoted to eradicating evil, any blade can kill demons."
Asuka wasn't good with people, but even he could hear the comfort in those words.
A colorless blade…
Let's hope it doesn't bring trouble.
Arasaki was just beginning to explain how to maintain a Nichirin blade—and some finer points of fighting with one—when—
Whoosh—!!
A streak of black cut through the air.
In the next instant, a jet-black crow with half-lidded eyes landed abruptly atop a stone lantern.
"Oh? A Kasugai Crow," Arasaki said. "Every official Demon Slayer receives one. They're clever creatures—able to understand commands and even communicate messages."
"…Communicate?" Asuka blinked. "You mean… it can speak?"
"Of course," the crow replied coolly, answering for itself.
It lifted its head slightly and pointed its beak at Asuka.
"Seventy-Eight Asuka. Message delivery."
"Proceed immediately toward the northeast—Sendai region.
Locate and eliminate the demon."
"Three swordsmen have already fallen. Exercise extreme caution."
With that, the crow took off—just as abruptly as it had arrived.
Asuka looked at Arasaki. "Are all Kasugai Crows like that?"
"They each have their own personalities," Arasaki nodded, his expression turning serious. "Asuka—this is your first official mission. And… it's an unusual one. Be very careful."
"Unusual?" Asuka asked. "Isn't it just finding a demon and killing it?"
"That's not what I mean," the old man said quietly. "Normally, swordsmen of your rank deal with suspected sightings—or demons that have killed one or two people at most."
"But your very first mission is to hunt a demon that's killed three Demon Slayers."
"That alone means it's at least a Greater Demon."
Arasaki paused, conflicted.
"It seems the Master places great trust in you."
Being acknowledged by the Master meant facing threats ordinary swordsmen couldn't handle—and that meant danger.
For someone just beginning their life as a demon slayer… was this too soon?
"I understand," Asuka replied evenly. "When do I leave? And… where exactly is Sendai?"
Asuka didn't dwell on it.
If you accepted someone's protection, you repaid it with work.
That was simple logic.
"…Sendai is far, and the demon is dangerous," Arasaki said after a moment. "Rest today. Leave tomorrow."
He gazed at the crow's fading silhouette, speaking softly.
He had trained many students—talented ones, average ones, and hopeless ones.
But it had been a long time since a child had weighed on his heart like this.
One more day, he thought.
Let him rest one more day.
Turning away, he didn't look Asuka in the eyes—only reached out and lightly patted his shoulder.
"Slaying demons is our duty… and a means of protecting the world of the living."
"But if one day you grow weary—truly weary—then come back."
"Hayama will always be your home."
With that, he said no more.
The old man walked back toward the training compound, his single arm at his side—his figure tall, steadfast… and quietly lonely.
Asuka stood frozen, caught off guard by the sudden warmth in those words.
His chest felt strangely hot.
His throat tightened.
In the end, he said nothing—only turned and bowed deeply toward Arasaki's retreating back.
The next day at noon, Asuka finished packing.
A few changes of clothes.
Dried rations.
A water flask.
A whetstone.
And most importantly—his two blades.
When he slid open the door, the training compound was unusually quiet. Judging by the stillness, Arasaki-sensei had taken the trainees to another mountain ridge for endurance drills.
Asuka didn't feel disappointed.
If anything, there was a strange sense of relief in his chest.
He had never been good at responding to sincere concern—it always left him unsure of what to say or where to look.
After tightening the straps on his pack and settling the twin swords at his waist, Asuka stepped out.
"Asuka."
A clear voice echoed from the corridor.
He paused and turned.
It was Rika.
Asuka stopped, facing the senior disciple who had always looked after him.
"Come with me," she said.
She offered no explanation—only beckoned with her hand.
Asuka didn't ask anything either. He simply followed.
They didn't head toward the mountain road.
Instead, Rika led him behind the main building, along a narrow path nearly swallowed by weeds. The trail wound into a dense forest few people ever entered.
Sunlight struggled through the towering ancient trees, breaking apart into scattered beams that illuminated a small clearing ahead.
Two low graves lay side by side.
Snow covered them both.
Rika's expression turned solemn—heavy with grief.
She stepped toward the grave on the left, brushing away the snow with careful hands. She wiped the modest, weathered tombstone clean, revealing deeply carved characters:
Kumeno Masachika
"This is Brother Masachika's grave…" Rika said softly, as if afraid to disturb the sleeping soul.
"He… was a swordsman who came from Hayama. And he was also the closest friend of the current Wind Pillar—Sanemi Shinazugawa."
"Shinazugawa Sanemi…"
Asuka knew the name well.
Even among Demon Slayers, Sanemi was infamous—hot-tempered, violent, unwilling to listen to explanations. Many found him terrifying.
But Arasaki-sensei had once said that beneath the sharp tongue and brutal manner, his heart wasn't rotten—just difficult.
He actually had friends…
That alone felt hard to imagine.
"And this one…" Rika continued quietly, turning to the other grave,
"…is Arasaki Suzune."
Asuka's pupils contracted.
"Sensei's child?"
"Yes," Rika nodded. "His only daughter. She was also Brother Sanemi's first instructor."
She clenched her fingers slightly.
"They were the most important people in Sensei's life. To Brother Sanemi as well… and to me."
"For all these years, Sensei hasn't been able to come here."
Her voice trembled.
"He's strong—but he's also fragile. He has to uphold the image of strictness. He has to hold Hayama together. He has to keep forging blades for the Demon Slayer Corps—no matter the cost."
"Even if that cost was everything."
Rika's eyes shimmered, her shoulders shaking faintly—but she did not cry.
"Asuka," she said, turning to him, "I brought you here because I wanted you to know—Sensei truly values you."
"When you're out there… please take care of yourself. Be careful."
"Please… don't let this place gain another grave."
For the first time, Asuka saw Rika like this—vulnerable, raw.
Something stirred inside him.
He wasn't young because he'd been sheltered.
He was young because he had survived.
Coldness. Distance. Wariness.
A life spent bracing for the next blow.
If he had a choice, he wouldn't have lived that way.
But before now—he hadn't had one.
Standing between the graves, surrounded by silence and unspoken care, Asuka realized something quietly, undeniably true.
He had a home now.