Chapter 46 – Ten Techniques of Void Breathing
Seven days passed in the blink of an eye.
Thanks to his mastery of advanced Breathing Techniques and the aid of potent medicinal concoctions, Hikaru's body had recovered completely in no time.
And during those seven days…
Kocho Shinobu visited him almost every single day.
Every time she came—
She teased him.
Not casual conversation. Not polite small talk.
Real teasing.
She never once brought up the kiss from the first day, nor did she speak about the feelings that might have been hidden behind it. Still… she often leaned in just a little too close, speaking in a playful, lilting tone—like she was fanning the embers of a fire that had only just settled.
Then, with a satisfied smile, she'd watch his helpless expression, knowing full well he couldn't move around much yet.
Sometimes, she'd ask him to tell her stories.
Strange, mysterious ones.
Stories that sounded absurd.
Filled with riddles and impossible events.
Shinobu loved them.
She enjoyed that kind of absurdity—the way it blurred the line between dream and reality. It was as if she were chasing after something hidden beyond the veil of sleep.
Most of the tales Hikaru shared came from a faraway land beyond the sea—the land of his ancestors.
A place that, to him…
Would always be home.
"Why does Hikaru-san know so many stories from the West?" Shinobu once asked with genuine curiosity.
"Because… my ancestors came from there," he replied quietly. "That country… is my home."
It was the truth.
Even though he now lived in a different land, he had never let go of his roots.
Shinobu only smiled faintly.
"I see… I've never heard that before."
She didn't pry further.
This was the Taisho era—a time of opening and cultural exchange. Foreigners were no longer a rare sight, especially in a country beginning to face the wider world.
— — —
On the seventh day, Hikaru was finally free from his recovery restrictions.
He could stand again.
More than that…
He was ready to train.
Even while lying in bed, his mind had been working nonstop, replaying his fight against Kokushibo and thinking of ways to forge new techniques from that battle.
"Oh? You're already going to start training?" Shinobu asked that morning as sunlight streamed through the window.
She didn't look surprised.
It was only natural—Hikaru's rapid growth was nothing new.
"Yes," he answered, glancing briefly at her. His eyes flicked to her lips for the briefest moment before he looked away.
The feelings were there.
His attraction to Shinobu was something he couldn't deny.
But… he knew his priorities.
Training came first.
— — —
In the training yard.
"Yay! Hikaru-nii, you're all better!" Three little girls ran up, faces glowing with excitement.
"When will you cook for us again?"
"Hikaru-nii~"
He wasn't sure if they were happy about his recovery… or just the thought of eating his cooking again.
"Hmph. Lucky you're still alive!" Kanzaki Aoi said with her usual sharp tone. "If it happens again, I'm not forgiving you!"
"Yeah, yeah. Got it," Hikaru replied with a resigned smile.
Not long after, two more figures entered through the gate.
"…Shinobu's Tsuguko, Tsuyuri Kanao. And—"
"Hikaru-san!"
The girl beamed warmly.
Beside her stood a small girl with long black hair, dressed in a light pink kimono and a dark brown haori. At her waist hung a wooden practice sword.
"…Nezuko?"
Hikaru recognized her instantly.
She was the younger sister of Kamado Tanjiro—the child he had once saved.
"You want to join the Demon Slayer Corps?"
Nezuko nodded firmly. "I want to help Nii-chan. Give him a surprise."
"…Good."
Hikaru returned the nod. "Then do your best."
He looked toward the sky.
The midday sun was already beginning to sink, warm air lingering in the yard.
Wisteria flowers swayed gently in the breeze.
"Summer's almost here," he murmured.
Taking a deep breath, he said, "Alright… let's begin."
The others moved to their own spaces, the yard wide enough for everyone to train without getting in each other's way.
Hikaru scanned the area, then slowly drew his sword.
His Nichirin Blade—transparent in color—held faint cracks along its edge.
But these weren't normal fractures.
There was something else… something alive in the patterns.
Sliding the blade back into its sheath, he lowered his stance, spine bent slightly, hands gripping the hilt tight.
In his mind, he pictured the most dangerous opponent he had ever faced—
Kokushibo.
With a single, fluid motion, he drew his blade.
A sharp, decisive strike.
A new technique.
"Void Breathing: First Form – Mirror Reversal."
The opening form.
A swift draw, cutting forward in a line that shimmered like the reflection off a perfect mirror.
The essence of emptiness.
Not just an attack—it could deflect an enemy's strike, like ripples turning aside the light.
It was born from that desperate fight against Kokushibo.
Reflect the killing intent. Turn it aside. Strike back.
Of course, it wasn't the same as when he had unconsciously tapped into the Transparent World in that battle. This was incomplete—an imitation based on his own understanding, not borrowed vision.
He couldn't fully recreate that moment.
But this… was his own.
Only the beginning.
The First Form.
Next—the Second Form.
"Crystal Heart."
A single slash, followed by an immediate pull-back.
The light condensed into a razor-sharp point, piercing the empty air in a precise, narrow line.
Like a shard of pure crystal cutting through the void.
Clarity and emptiness—two halves of the same whole.
Before moving on to the third technique, Hikaru paused.
In his mind, Void Breathing held ten forms.
One opening form.
Six intermediate forms.
Two secret forms.
And one ultimate form.
He hadn't created them all yet.
But if he could complete the foundation and the transitional forms…
Then next time he faced Kokushibo—
He didn't need to win.
Matching him blow for blow…
Not losing—that would be enough.
That was the promise he'd made.
The one he intended to keep.
At that moment, the system's voice echoed in his mind:
[Void Breathing – Ten Forms (Incomplete – Progress: 2/10) – F+ (???)]
— — —
At the headquarters of the Demon Slayer Corps.
A man sat beneath the veranda, facing a quiet garden.
His pale hands cradled a black messenger crow that had just landed on his arm.
He listened to its report in silence.
"…I see."
"The Hikaru-style system alone isn't enough to fix this year's Final Selection results, it seems."
His voice was calm, almost a whisper.
"…Where did it go wrong?"
His eyes—once bright—were now clouded white.
No longer holding any light.
Not like a year ago.
Ubuyashiki Kagaya slowly closed them.
"It's time…"
"Summon all the Hashira."
"It's time for a Hashira Council Meeting."
His soft words drifted through the courtyard, carried away on a breeze that smelled faintly of spring.
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