Chapter 53 – The Recognition Earned
They had already left the Demon Slayer Corps headquarters.
Just like Hikaru had told Nezuko before their journey began—he wasn't planning to speed up, but he also had no intention of slowing down. He simply walked at his own natural pace.
But for someone like Hikaru, who had reached the level of a Hashira, his "natural" pace was anything but slow.
To Nezuko, keeping up with him was an agonizing challenge. Even just staying close behind required everything she had.
After all, Hikaru was no longer the same human who first arrived in this world. His body and spirit had been forged into that of a true swordsman—on par with the elite.
And Nezuko, despite undergoing over a month of intense training, despite becoming much stronger physically, still found following in Hikaru's footsteps a trial of its own.
Even so…
She didn't give up.
Not once did she show any sign of quitting.
Even though the distance between them never closed, Nezuko bit her lip and pressed forward in silence.
Step by step, breath after breath—without a word of complaint.
And Hikaru?
He never looked back.
Not even once.
Not because he was being cold or heartless. It wasn't cruelty—it was principle.
He knew that if Nezuko couldn't endure even the beginning of the journey to Mount Sagiri, she'd never survive what lay ahead.
Showing kindness now would be worse than cruel. It would be betrayal disguised as mercy.
He had warned her from the start.
And since she chose to follow him, she had to be prepared for everything that came with that choice.
As long as she hadn't proven herself—as long as her will hadn't truly been tested—he would not offer any form of leniency.
Because Hikaru never saw himself as a gentle person.
Sometimes… cruelty was the purest form of care.
Not out of hatred.
But because that's how survival worked.
— — —
Night deepened around them.
Leaves rustled softly on either side of the path, swaying in the wind. Moonlight filtered through the treetops, casting shards of silver across the ground like scattered pieces of broken glass. Up ahead, Hikaru's silhouette shimmered faintly—growing smaller with each passing second.
"…So tired…"
Nezuko's steps wavered.
She forced herself to run, pushing her already taxed body to match Hikaru's relentless pace.
Her mind screamed for her to keep moving.
But her body was nearing its limit.
Still—
She couldn't stop.
"Nezuko—I'll always protect you!"
Her brother's voice echoed in her memory.
"If you've decided, then fight with everything you've got. Your brother will be proud of you."
That was her mother's voice… from the day she'd told her family she wanted to join the Demon Slayer Corps.
Her vision blurred. Her thoughts grew fuzzy.
But those memories—they grounded her. They kept her upright.
Even so…
Willpower wasn't always enough to overcome reality.
As she stumbled forward, gasping for air, her balance suddenly gave out. She tripped—nearly falling. She managed to catch herself just in time, but not before her arm scraped against a jagged branch.
The sound of ripping fabric tore through the air.
A long, shallow cut appeared on her pale forearm.
Blood trickled down, dark and warm against the night air.
The pain snapped her back to awareness.
She lifted her gaze.
But Hikaru's figure had vanished.
Swallowed whole by the shadows of the forest.
Gone.
Nezuko lowered her eyes to her bleeding arm. Though it hurt, she only bit her lip and endured it.
She still wanted to move forward.
But just then—
A sharp breeze swept across her face.
The moonlight above seemed to shift—its glow turning cold and ominous.
Nezuko's instincts flared.
Something was wrong.
She dropped to the ground without hesitation.
And at that very moment—
A glint of steel flashed through the air.
A claw-like appendage tore past where her head had just been, slicing the air with a shrill, tearing sound.
A lock of her hair floated upward, severed cleanly.
This wasn't a wild animal.
She knew immediately.
Nezuko rolled across the ground and sprang to her feet, eyes scanning the darkness.
Standing before her was something humanoid—but not human.
Its skin was a sickly, pale hue, veins pulsing like serpents beneath the surface. Its eyes glowed crimson, fangs bared, claws extended like wicked blades.
A demon.
She didn't hesitate for a second.
Even if this was the first time she'd seen one up close, she knew.
This was no mistake.
She inhaled sharply.
Fear—yes, it was there.
But after a month of training, her mind was far more stable than before.
Blood still dripped from her arm.
"I have to find Nii-chan…"
She gripped the hilt of the sword hanging at her hip—a Nichirin Blade Shinobu had entrusted to her for self-defense. She wasn't an official member of the Corps yet.
But even so—
She couldn't afford to back down.
She couldn't afford to be afraid.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
Calm the heart.
Nezuko raised her chin.
The demon crouched low, muscles tense like a predator preparing to strike.
"That scent… sweet… so sweet…"
It hissed, body trembling with hunger.
Then—without warning—it pounced.
Its claws whipped forward, tearing through the air with deadly force.
Nezuko inhaled.
"Flower Breathing…"
Not Insect Breathing—Shinobu had taught her this instead. It was more fluid, more suitable for her developing combat style.
She hadn't mastered it.
But now wasn't the time for hesitation.
Now was the time to gamble everything.
Breathe—
And move.
It was as if flower petals danced in the air.
Nezuko, pain shooting through her arm, stepped forward—toward the threat, not away.
Her blade sang as it left the sheath.
"First Form: Cherry Blossom Flurry!"
Light flashed.
Her sword carved a path straight through the demon's neck.
A fine, glowing line shimmered in the air for a heartbeat.
Then—
The demon's head flew.
Its body crumbled into ash.
She had won.
But the technique had drained her.
Her breath came in ragged gasps. Her muscles screamed in protest.
This was the toll of using Breathing Techniques with a body that wasn't ready.
Especially when she'd already pushed herself past her limits just trying to keep up with Hikaru.
Still, she was alive…
But before she could exhale in relief—
More rustling from the bushes.
One after another, shadows emerged from the undergrowth.
Dozens of glowing red eyes pierced the darkness—all locked onto her.
More than ten demons.
The world froze.
Nezuko's body tensed. Her pupils dilated.
One of them snarled, unable to contain its bloodlust, and lunged at her.
This is it…
Her body couldn't move fast enough. She couldn't dodge, couldn't counter.
Even a full-fledged Demon Slayer would be hard-pressed to survive this.
"Am I going to die…?"
"Nii-chan… Mom…"
"I'm sorry…"
Even as despair threatened to consume her—
"But even if I die… I won't give up!"
Her eyes snapped open—burning with determination.
She tightened her grip on the hilt of her blade.
Ready to make one final stand.
"The Kamado family never gives up… not even in death!"
— — —
A streak of silver cleaved through the air.
Metal clashed with flesh in a flash of movement.
One demon's head spun through the sky, its blood spraying like ink.
"Took you long enough…"
A calm voice broke the tension.
A figure clad in black stepped from the shadows—his presence blending seamlessly with the moonlight.
Nezuko's eyes widened.
Tall. Lean. Steady.
The silhouette was unmistakable.
She opened her mouth to speak.
But he spoke first.
"You did well."
His tone was quiet, but clear.
"You've earned your recognition."
Hikaru.
No theatrics. No false comfort.
Just acknowledgment.
He raised his Transparent Blade.
And in the next breath—
An aura of killing intent surged from his body.
Blanketing the forest in raw pressure.
Targeting every demon that dared to challenge them that night.
— — —
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