Chapter 6: A Heart of Fire
The young man's name was Tankichi Kamado—one of the many lives saved by Yoriichi Tsugikuni. He lived with his wife, Akemiko, in a modest home nestled in the mountains, where the world seemed untouched by blood and war. Their livelihood was simple: they sold charcoal in nearby villages, their days measured by the rising smoke of their kiln and the laughter of their newborn child.
Some months ago, Yoriichi had passed through these parts and saved Tankichi from a demon's claws. It had been a close call—one that might have ended not only his life, but also that of his wife and child. Yoriichi not only slew the creature but even found them a midwife when Akemiko went into labor soon after. Since then, he had been more than a savior. To the Kamado family, he was a benefactor, a living guardian who had gifted them peace when it was nearly stolen away.
Watching the family now, Akira couldn't help but think back to the brothers he had met in the village days earlier. The ones he had saved from the demon in the night. Were they safe? Were they still laughing together, alive under the moonlight? The thought made his chest tighten.
---
Inside the Kamado home, a fire crackled in the hearth. Shadows danced along the wooden walls, casting warmth into the quiet room.
"We are truly sorry to trouble you," Yoriichi said, bowing his head slightly, his voice calm and measured as always.
Tankichi and Akemiko exchanged glances, their faces glowing with gratitude.
"Please," Tankichi said sincerely, shaking his head, "don't say that. You saved our lives. This home will always be yours. You're welcome here for as long as you wish."
Akemiko poured steaming tea into earthen cups, her smile radiant. "We don't often have visitors up here. To have company—it makes the house feel alive again."
Akira raised the cup to his lips. The warmth seeped into his hands as he took a sip. "It's delicious," he said honestly.
"Thank you," Akemiko replied, her expression softening with pride.
Akira had sensed their kindness from the beginning. Their hospitality wasn't forced—it flowed naturally, sincere and open-hearted. No wonder Master Yoriichi brought us here, Akira thought. Even for a moment, this place feels like peace.
"Oh, what a cute child!" Akemiko exclaimed suddenly, her eyes sparkling as she reached out to touch Akito's round, mushroom-shaped hair.
Akira straightened unconsciously, pride swelling in his chest. "This is my younger brother, Akito."
The praise for Akito almost felt like praise for himself.
Akemiko widened her eyes playfully. "No wonder he's so handsome—he has a big brother who's even more handsome!"
Akira's cheeks warmed as he let out a chuckle. Akito, however, shot him a mock glare, his thoughts practically written across his face: Brother… shameless as always.
The laughter lightened the air.
"Yoriichi told me," Akemiko continued with a grin, "that while Akira fights demons, Akito stays home and cooks. That means Akito must be an excellent cook! Otherwise, how would Akira be in such good shape? Exercise helps, yes, but good nutrition is the real key."
"Absolutely!" Akito declared, puffing up with pride, his little chest swelling as if he had just been promoted to Hashira himself.
---
Later, as the meal settled into gentle conversation, Tankichi hesitated, glancing toward Yoriichi.
"Master Yoriichi… are you sure it's safe for you to stay here? Won't the Demon Slayer Corps come looking?"
Yoriichi paused, his fingers resting lightly on the rim of his teacup. The firelight flickered across his calm features.
"I have left the Corps."
"Oh!" Tankichi quickly bowed, his tone flustered. "Forgive me—I didn't mean to pry."
"It's all right," Yoriichi said quietly. His gaze lifted, not to Tankichi, but toward Akira and Akito, who were laughing softly with Akemiko. His voice carried a quiet certainty. "Even if I no longer wear their uniform, that does not absolve me of my duty. I will do what must be done. Always."
---
And so, the brothers remained in the mountains.
By day, Tankichi descended the slopes to sell charcoal. Akemiko cared for their child, her lullabies floating like whispers of light. Yoriichi hunted wild game in the forest, moving with the same serene grace whether slaying demons or tracking deer.
And Akira… Akira fought a different battle.
Despite the searing ache in his body, he forced himself through daily rehabilitation. Every morning, he stood before a wooden training post, his hands clenched around practice weights, his body trembling with effort. He willed his arms to lift, his wrists to steady, his grip to tighten.
But after two months, his hands shook worse than before. His strength had not returned—if anything, it had waned further.
He stared at his trembling wrists. The realization coiled in his chest like poison.
I can't swing a sword anymore. I can't even hold it steady.
The thought brought a bitter smile to his lips.
"Brother! It's time to eat!"
Akito's cheerful voice rang from the house. Smoke curled from the chimney, carrying the scent of rice and grilled fish.
Akira glanced once more at his hands—weak, useless, betraying him—then turned away as if nothing were wrong.
---
That evening, laughter filled the Kamado home.
"Delicious! Amazing!" Tankichi praised, mouth full of rice.
"Who would have thought someone so young could cook so well?" Akemiko added warmly. "You're putting me to shame, Akito!"
"Hehe, not at all," Akito said, cheeks flushed with pride.
Akira smiled faintly, but his mind was elsewhere. At last, he broke his silence. "Master."
Yoriichi looked up from his meal. "What is it?"
Akira glanced toward the Kamados, then back at Yoriichi. His voice was steady, but his hands trembled in his lap. "Akito and I… we're leaving."
The words silenced the table. Akemiko's eyes widened. Tankichi froze mid-bite.
"Huh? Is something wrong? Are you uncomfortable here?" Tankichi asked quickly.
"No." Akira shook his head. "Quite the opposite. These months have been the most peaceful we've ever known. For the first time, this place felt like… home."
He drew in a deep breath. "But that is why we must leave. We've remembered what it feels like to have something worth protecting. And that means… we cannot stay."
Tankichi lowered his gaze, sorrow flickering across his features. "…I see." He nodded slowly. "Then I won't stand in your way."
Akemiko rose, her arms wrapping around the brothers in a sudden embrace. Her voice trembled. "You're always welcome here. No matter where you go, this will always be your home."
"Thank you, Sister Akemiko," Akira said softly.
He removed a small object from his pocket—a pair of delicate earrings. He placed them gently in her palm.
"These were given to me by my master. They are precious to me. But… if one day I forget your faces, these will help me remember."
Akemiko's eyes welled. "No, these are far too—"
"Please." Akira's smile was faint but firm. "Accept them. As proof that this place will always remain in my heart."
Akemiko closed her fingers around them, clutching them to her chest.
Akito sat quietly, watching his brother. Though the decision had come suddenly, he asked no questions. He didn't need to. Wherever Akira went, he would follow. That had always been the truth.
---
At the doorway, Akira turned and waved one last time. His laughter rang bright. "Master—promise me! You must defeat Muzan Kibutsuji!"
Yoriichi's calm voice cut through the night. "Akira."
Akira stopped, glancing back.
"I did not accept you as my disciple because of your talent alone. I saw in you something greater. A heart that burns brighter than the sun. Whatever comes—no matter what life takes from you—do not let that fire die."
For a moment, Akira stood silent. Then he squeezed Akito's hand. "I understand, Master."
Yoriichi watched as the brothers disappeared down the mountain path, their silhouettes swallowed by twilight.
---
The forest was quiet as they descended. Crickets sang, and the wind carried the scent of pine. Akito walked close at his brother's side, his small hand firm around Akira's trembling one.
"Brother…" Akito said softly. "Do you think I will blame you?"
Akira shook his head. His voice was low, but certain. "No. You understand me better than anyone."
Akito looked down at Akira's hands—still shaking, still weak. His heart clenched, but he forced his voice to stay strong. "The world is vast. Somewhere out there, there must be a doctor who can heal you."
Akira's gaze lifted to the sky, where the stars burned like distant flames. His eyes blazed with new resolve.
"Yes."
His promise to Yoriichi echoed within him. His vow burned brighter than pain.
He would survive.
He would grow stronger.
And one day—he would kill Muzan Kibutsuji