The six remaining Hashira of the Demon Slayer Corps moved like ghosts through the night. Their forms blurred as they descended upon the Yoshiwara Red-Light District, a place of fleeting pleasures that now hid a dark and deadly secret. They landed silently on the rooftops, their eyes meeting for a brief, final confirmation. In an instant, they split into three teams of two, ready to move toward their assigned locations.
Even though this district was the territory of Upper Rank Six—Gyuutarou and Daki—Master Ubuyashiki had managed to secure a map of its winding streets and alleys. They knew they were walking into a trap. An inescapable net had been cast over the entire district by Muzan Kibutsuji himself. But they had no choice. They had to come.
The lives of Crown Prince Showa and the other young princes were at stake. This mission was about more than just the Corps' reputation with the government; it was a critical test of loyalty. Muzan, in his human disguise as Tsukihiko, had spent months turning powerful figures in the Japanese Government against the Ubuyashiki family. This was their one chance to prove their allegiance. If they succeeded, they could show the doubtful Imperial Family that Master Ubuyashiki was not secretly working with the progenitor of demons. It would give them a fighting chance against Muzan's political scheming.
But if they failed, the fragile trust between the Demon Slayer Corps and the Imperial Family would be shattered forever. The consequences of such a failure were too terrible to imagine. The Ubuyashiki family, and the entire Corps with it, would be destroyed.
Just as the six Hashira were about to move out, the last bit of evening light vanished. Dark clouds rolled in from nowhere, swallowing the sky. A heavy rain began to fall, drenching the district in seconds and plunging the colorful streets into an oppressive darkness. The sudden gloom felt like a terrible omen, a suffocating presence that seemed to press in from all sides.
"Damn it," Giyu Tomioka's voice was low and urgent. "We need to hurry. Remember, the mission comes first. Don't get drawn into long fights. We can't afford to lose anyone."
The others nodded in the downpour. But as they prepared to leap into the alleys below, the trap was sprung. From every street and shadow, countless lesser demons began to emerge. A moment later, unearthly shrieks echoed from the streets below, turning the vibrant district into a living nightmare.
…
From the highest rooftop in Yoshiwara, Gyutaro watched the scene unfold, a cruel grin on his face. His sister, Daki, stood beside him, her obi sash twitching with irritation.
"They're finally here! It looks like we're going to have some fun," Gyutaro rasped.
Daki pouted. "Hmph. All six of them came at once. It's so annoying. Why do we have to deal with them?"
"Don't be a fool," Gyutaro sneered, though his grin didn't fade. "This generation of Hashira is different from the weaklings that came before. That Wind Pillar, Sanemi Shinazugawa, is a savage. The Water Pillar, Giyu Tomioka, is dangerously skilled. And that Serpent Pillar, Obanai Iguro… they're all trouble."
He remembered the three Hashira that Lord Muzan had killed himself. Even for their master, it hadn't been an entirely simple task. He thought about the rumors—of Slayers who had awakened strange Marks on their skin, pushing their bodies beyond human limits. Facing three of them at once… even he and Daki might not be enough.
"But it doesn't matter," he added, his confidence returning as he looked down at the chaos. "Lord Muzan planned for this. He even sent them to help."
…
As demons surged through the streets, a lone figure appeared in the dark, rainy mist. He wore luxurious clothing and moved with an unnatural grace. His face was beautiful, almost angelic, but it held a strange emptiness that made it hard to tell if he was a man or a woman. A pair of rainbow-colored eyes held a cheerful, yet completely detached, gaze.
As a flash of lightning lit up the street, Shinobu Kocho, the Insect Hashira, froze mid-step. She and Mitsuri Kanroji, the Love Hashira, were about to head to their assigned area when the figure blocked their path. Shinobu's usual smile vanished, replaced by a look of pure, unadulterated shock.
Her whisper was barely audible over the rain. "It's… you."
The memories she had suppressed for years came rushing back with the force of a tidal wave. Douma. The leader of the Eternal Paradise Cult. Upper Rank Two of the Twelve Kizuki. A demon with bizarre ice-based abilities and a twisted hobby of devouring women. The monster who smiled while he killed.
The other Hashira, already moving swiftly through the rooftops, noticed her pause.
"Shinobu!" Giyu's voice cut through the rain.
They couldn't stop, not now. The mission was too important. They exchanged worried glances but had to keep moving forward. They could only trust that she would remember her duty and follow them. A delay now could mean failure for them all.
Mitsuri Kanroji had stopped beside her, her hand resting on the hilt of her unique, whip-like sword. "Shinobu? What is it? Who is that?"
Shinobu's voice was dangerously calm, a stark contrast to the storm of hatred raging inside her. "Mitsuri… that demon is one of the Twelve Kizuki. I've been searching for him for years, but I could never find a single trace. I never imagined I'd run into him here, of all places." Her knuckles turned white as she gripped her own blade. Her voice dropped to a low, venomous whisper. "He's the one who killed my sister, Kanae."
Mitsuri's breath caught in her throat. Her wide, green eyes filled with a sudden, fierce anger. Everyone in the Demon Slayer Corps joined for their own tragic reasons, but she and Shinobu shared a special bond as the only two female Hashira. She knew how much pain her friend carried beneath that constant, gentle smile.
And now, the source of all that pain was standing right in front of them, smiling pleasantly as if he were greeting an old friend in the rain.
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