A figure dashed along a mountain path.
Clad in a yellow haori, it was the Sound Hashira of the Demon Slayer Corps.
His face was etched with urgency. Not long ago, his disciple, sent to investigate demon activity in a village, had gone silent yesterday.
This had never happened before. He knew what it meant: his disciple was likely dead, slain by a demon.
Unwilling to accept this, yet powerless to change it, he pushed himself to reach the town faster.
But a recent leg injury, still unhealed, slowed him. Unable to run for long, it took him a day and a night to arrive.
Exhausted, the Sound Hashira panted heavily, his legs leaden.
He leaned on his knees, gasping, sweat soaking his clothes.
Before him lay a vibrant town, aglow with lights and bustling with life.
Shops lined the streets, people in ornate kimonos milled about, their laughter filling the air.
It should have been a scene of vitality, but to the Sound Hashira, the town seemed a monstrous beast, its maw gaping, waiting to devour him.
Swallowing hard, he tightened his grip on his Nichirin Blade and stepped forward.
Barely into the town, a familiar voice pierced the air like lightning through a silent night. "Master."
The call jolted him. He spun around, electrified.
There, not far off, stood his beloved disciple, gazing at him.
Joy surged within him.
But it was fleeting, like a flower blooming only to wilt.
Before he could respond, a flood of people swept through, swallowing his disciple in the crowd.
Eyes wide, he watched his disciple vanish.
"Raiko!" he shouted, heart racing, charging into the group of people.
Weaving through the crowd, he strained to spot his disciple again.
After a grueling effort, he caught sight of him, standing nearby, still watching.
Relief washed over him as he stepped forward, but like a specter, his disciple vanished again.
A dark premonition clouded his heart, sinking it.
Yet, having glimpsed his disciple, he couldn't give up.
He pursued the trail, running tirelessly until he reached a desolate, empty street.
Night cloaked the scene, a biting wind roaring like a beast, tearing at his clothes with eerie, rustling sounds.
Silence enveloped everything, as if darkness had consumed the world, leaving only his ragged breaths and heavy footsteps echoing in the void.
The sounds felt jarring, otherworldly, like whispers from a ghost.
"Master…" The achingly familiar voice drifted to his ears again, close enough to feel the breath behind it.
"Raiko? Where are you?" His eyes scanned frantically, searching for any sign.
But there was only darkness and deathly silence.
Then, a faint light flickered nearby.
His heart tightened. There, Raiko's form slowly emerged.
He stood quietly, a faint smile on his lips. "Master, you've finally come."
Relief began to settle, but horror struck.
Raiko's smile twisted, his face rotting visibly, flesh peeling away, reeking of decay. His eyes, like overripe fruit, fell and shattered into sludge.
His once-intact arm was now a skeletal limb, dripping dark red blood.
With that ghastly hand outstretched, he shuffled toward the Sound Hashira, muttering, "Master, why did you take so long? It hurts so much… Come stay with me…"
Before the Sound Hashira, Raiko dissolved into a puddle of pus.
Even a veteran who'd slain countless demons felt a chill crawl up his spine.
"Sashiburi Dana, Sound Hashira."
He turned stiffly to a figure behind him.
A black robe, silver hair, but the face was unmistakable.
To ensure recognition, the figure retained his human appearance. Ren smiled. "Like the gift I prepared for you?"
"You!" The Sound Hashira's eyes widened. "It's you! You… you've become a demon!"
His face contorted with rage. "You killed Raiko! I'll kill you!"
"Thunder Breathing, Fifth Form: Heat Lightning!"
Ren raised his hand. "Blood Demon Art: Crimson Crows!"
Blood-red crows spread their wings, blotting out the sky as they surged toward the Sound Hashira.
Lightning flashed, holding the crows at bay.
Seizing the moment, the Sound Hashira closed in, unleashing Thunder Breathing techniques with relentless precision.
For the first time since becoming a demon, Ren faced a Hashira, feeling a pressure unlike anything from the lesser Corps members he'd killed.
He dodged repeatedly, his body dissolving into countless crows that swirled around the Sound Hashira.
The Sound Hashira's eyes darted, tracking Ren's movements. He sneered, "You and your master are cut from the same cloth. I never should've let you go!"
Ren's voice echoed from all directions. "Your logic is as laughable as your swordsmanship. Did you really think your skills could've subdued my master?"
"All I know is, when a man's brother and disciple both become demons, he has no right to live!" The Sound Hashira scoffed. "And your little brother—where's he? Don't tell me you ate him after turning!"
The air froze.
Crimson eyes appeared before the Sound Hashira, blazing with barely contained fury.
It worked!
Demons are so predictable, the Sound Hashira thought, smirking. He'd used Chitoshi to enrage Ren, hoping to cloud his judgment. It was almost too easy.
As he prepared to strike, his body suddenly refused to move, as if bound in place.
What's happening?
Ren's hand shot forward, piercing the Sound Hashira's eye.
A scream of agony erupted as pain seared through his skull, Ren's fingers probing his brain.
"Sound Hashira, you're the weakest of the Pillars," Ren said. "Killing you brings me no satisfaction, but since you started this, I'll make you the first."
"My death will only confirm your guilt…" the Sound Hashira gasped.
"But.... it doesn't matter anymore," Ren said calmly. "I don't care."
With a surge of strength, Ren tore the Sound Hashira's head from his neck, like uprooting a plant.
Blood sprayed like a fountain.
Ren stared at the head in his hand, his gaze serene. "Chitoshi, this is the first."