Chapter 20 — The Illness That Devours Shadows
It was the final years of the Taishō era.
The fragile prosperity once propped up by the spoils of foreign wars was beginning to collapse under the weight of domestic and international economic crises. What had once looked like steady growth was now unmistakably rotting from within.
Society grew restless.
Radicals and ambition-driven agitators stirred beneath the surface.
Ordinary people, caught in the undertow of these tremors, found daily life growing harsher by the day.
The farther one traveled northeast, the more palpable that unease became.
Along the road, Asuka saw families selling their own children—desperate measures taken to survive soaring rice prices. He also saw loudmouthed propagandists, shouting slogans of glory and patriotism, whipping crowds into fervor for the cabinet's proposed expedition into Siberia.
In short—
A clamorous wind was gathering.
That day, Asuka passed through a desolate little town.
With industrial development pulling younger generations toward cities like Fukushima and Sendai, the town had been hollowed out. Those who remained were either farmers whose families had lived there for generations, or shopkeepers stubbornly clinging to small storefronts.
New faces were rare.
So when Asuka entered the town, passersby cast curious glances his way, trying to discern why a well-featured young man would come to a place like this.
Especially now.
The moment he stepped inside the town limits, an unnatural sensation settled over him.
The atmosphere was oppressively heavy—unpleasant in a way that crawled under the skin.
The shops along the street were open as usual. People walked about, nodding politely, some even offering faint smiles.
And yet—
Every single person seemed shrouded in a thin veil of ash.
It wasn't literal grime, but something far worse: a shadow clinging to their spiritual pressure. A reflection of unease, anxiety, and nameless dread festering in their hearts.
Asuka didn't stop to ask questions.
He moved forward quietly, ears tuned to murmurs drifting from alleys and storefronts, eyes catching the flicker of unease in people's gazes.
"…Yūji too? Damn it… another one…"
"How's your shadow?"
"Feels thinner today… that's not good…"
"Kōji died last night… something's seriously wrong…"
Fragments of conversation drifted together, sending a faint tremor through Asuka's nerves.
People were dying here.
Was it a demon?
His hand instinctively moved toward the hilt of his Nichirin Blade—then stopped.
…This has nothing to do with me.
Asuka's judgment was cold and straightforward.
Orders from the Demon Slayer Corps.
Instructions from his teacher.
Requests entrusted to him by Rika.
Even personal matters involving Kenji or Shinsuke—those, he would handle.
But beyond that?
He had no intention of involving himself.
Whether this town was haunted, how severe the threat might be—until an official directive came down, it wasn't his concern.
So long as the demon didn't block his path.
His mission lay in Sendai. There was no need to invite unnecessary trouble.
Asuka pulled his black haori closer around the concealed blades and began looking for a general store—to restock food and water, and perhaps buy a map of the Tōhoku region.
But as he walked along the bleak street, his gaze slid toward a narrow side alley.
There, in a corner choked with discarded crates and debris, he saw it—
A small huddled mass of shadows.
Three or four children.
The oldest no more than eleven or twelve.
The youngest still small enough to be carried.
They were crammed together, clothes in tatters, faces smeared with dirt.
Street kids…
Asuka stopped.
Not only because he saw echoes of his own past in them—but because something about them was wrong.
Their complexions were lifeless, ashen, like people drained of blood… or those already standing at death's door.
And yet their eyes were bright.
They clung to one another for warmth, and the eldest spoke with surprising strength.
This wasn't the pallor of hunger, sickness, or abuse.
Asuka steadied his breathing and extended his spiritual perception toward them—
Just as he thought.
Sunlight poured into the alley, casting sharp shadows across the uneven ground. The silhouettes of wooden crates, stone walls, even a small tree by the wall—
All of them were dark as ink.
Except for one thing.
The children's shadows.
But those children's shadows—
They looked like cheap ink soaked through with water: the edges blurred, the color so faint it was almost melting into the ground itself.
As if something unseen were steadily devouring the pigment of their shadows—drawing their vitality out along with it.
A demon.
Whatever its exact method, one thing was certain: those children had been marked.
Asuka fell silent.
He didn't know what force kept him rooted in place as he watched the small figures huddled together like stray pups, clinging to warmth.
Finally, he turned back.
He returned to a stall selling coarse grain flatbreads and sat down expressionlessly.
"Business good?" he asked.
The old man selling the bread froze for a moment. Looking at the unfamiliar young man, he let out a hollow sigh that never reached his eyes.
"What's 'good' these days…? Just the locals keeping things going."
He lowered his voice. "You're from out of town, aren't you? Best buy what you need and leave. Things haven't been peaceful around here lately…"
His eyes flickered as he passed over the rough bread and tea.
"…Oh? What's going on?" Asuka took a bite, asking casually. "I heard something about shadows."
The old man's face changed instantly.
He glanced around and hissed in a whisper, "Shh! Don't say that out loud! It's bad luck, that is! Damn strange, too…"
He swallowed. "People's shadows… they just start fading. When the shadow disappears completely, the person dies. Like they've been sucked dry—nothing left but a husk…"
He leaned closer, voice urgent.
"Kid, don't ask anymore. This is nothing good. Do yourself a favor—leave."
Asuka nodded, asking no further questions.
He paid extra, asking the old man to pass some food to the children in the nearby alley, then took his own portion and left.
After that, he tried similar probing at several other stalls.
The answers varied wildly.
Some claimed it was just rumors.
Others insisted a tengu spirit had grown angry.
A few refused to speak at all and tried to chase him away.
But combined with what he'd overheard on the street—and these fragmented accounts—Asuka pieced together a rough conclusion:
A strange illness was spreading through the town.
Those afflicted saw their shadows gradually fade, their bodies weakening in tandem, until death claimed them.
The first victim had been a half-drunken man living on the eastern edge of town—Asano Shigeru. Most of the others were impoverished locals or solitary men. Their deaths all looked the same—
Like corpses drained dry.
"…That's odd," Asuka muttered. "Aren't demons supposed to eat people? Since when do they eat shadows?"
He didn't understand it—but demons were nothing if not grotesquely creative in their appetites.
It was still daytime. The demon wouldn't show itself yet.
To gather more clues, Asuka decided to visit the home of the first victim, Asano Shigeru.
After some difficulty asking around, he finally found a small fenced yard almost swallowed by weeds.
Even the sunlight seemed reluctant here.
The low earthen house was caked in dust, spiderwebs hanging from the corners. Part of the fence had collapsed entirely, as though no one had cared for the place in years.
So this was Asano Shigeru's home?
It was shabby—but as someone who had once gone barefoot as a street orphan, Asuka had no right to judge.
He pushed open the creaking door.
A stench exploded outward—cheap alcohol mixed with sour sweat.
Broken bottles. Scattered firewood. Unidentifiable filth smeared across the dirt floor.
Under the eaves, a gaunt man lay curled atop a tattered straw mat, clutching an empty bottle in his hand.
Greasy, matted hair. Ragged clothes. Bruises mottling his exposed arms in shades of blue and purple.
From the look of him, he was deep in a prolonged, miserable stupor.
So this was the other reason the townsfolk avoided talking about Asano Shigeru.
This man—
His younger brother.
Asano Mori.