~14 days later~
The scent of freshly sanded wood lingered in the air as Willow tied the final knot on the thick arm straps of her handmade box. She wiped the sweat from her brow and stood back, admiring her work—a wooden box with a soft, padded interior. Reinforced corners. Designed for safety and comfort.
Kokushibo stepped into the room, arms crossed, eyes narrowing slightly as he assessed her creation.
"…What is it?" he asked, tilting his head.
Willow beamed with a mix of pride and mild sheepishness. "It's a box for you. So I can carry you on my back during the day when I go on missions. You know… for protection."
A single bead of sweat trailed down Kokushibo's temple.
"You want me to shrink down… and ride in a box?"
Willow's smile wavered slightly. "Wait, y-you can shrink, right?"
He sighed lightly. "Yes. I can. It's just… not my preferred form… I feel... diminished in it."
Willow's expression softened with concern. "Would you… at least try it? Just to test it out?"
There was a long pause.
"…Very well."
In a blink, Kokushibo began to shrink, his tall, imposing form compressing into a much smaller frame, until he was no taller than a toddler. His six eyes remained intact, although more squished together, and his normally regal presence now felt… oddly adorable.
Willow blinked. A small giggle escaped her lips.
She clapped her hand over her mouth in horror.
Kokushibo turned his head toward her, one eye twitching in faint annoyance.
"…You laughed."
"I—I didn't laugh! It was just a, uh—hiccup!"
He grunted softly and turned away, climbing into the wooden box. Once settled, he crossed his arms and looked up at her. "It's… surprisingly comfortable."
Willow smiled, her eyes warm. "I'm glad."
Moments later, Kokushibo returned to full size and stepped out of the box, brushing imaginary dust from his shoulder.
"I have something for you," he said quietly.
Willow blinked as he left the room and returned a moment later holding something carefully folded in his arms. Her breath caught as he unfolded it—revealing a stunning haori.
It was a breathtaking ombre of deep purple and deep pink, with both sides of the sleeves adorned by a serpent like golden dragon. The cuffs were edged in delicate golden flames, and scattered golden scales faded toward the bottom. The back was decorated with flowing golden clouds, centered around a lotus flower enclosed by a circle—symbols of rebirth and enlightenment.
"I found it at a night market," Kokushibo said. "It reminded me of you."
Willow stepped forward slowly, her eyes wide, tears welling up. She took the haori in her hands with reverence, her fingers brushing over every detail.
"It's beautiful…" she whispered.
Kokushibo placed a gentle hand on her head, his expression unchanging—but the warmth in his gesture said enough.
~The Next Day~
The sky was just beginning to warm with morning light when Willow spotted a man approaching their home, carrying a long black case.
Her eyes widened.
"The swordsmith!" she whispered, then turned to Kokushibo. "Hide in the other room."
With a nod, Kokushibo vanished into the adjacent room, the sliding door clicking shut behind him.
Moments later, a knock came at the door.
Willow opened it to see a man with a hyottoko mask.
"You must be Willow Tsugikuni," he said, voice gruff but polite.
"Yes, sir. Please, come in."
"I'm Rakuyama Tatsuya," the man said, stepping inside. "I've come to deliver your nichirin katana."
He knelt down and opened the case with care.
Inside was a beautiful katana—sleek and lethal. The blade itself bore a soft wave pattern on its edge. The tsuba (guard) was a radiant flame-shaped circle, and the hilt was aligned in purple diamonds with a polished golden pommel.
Willow stared, awestruck.
The swordsmith began to explain, "Nichirin blades are forged from scarlet iron sand and ore, constantly exposed to sunlight. They absorb that sunlight, making them the only weapons capable of killing demons. Each wielder's blade changes color when drawn for the first time."
Willow reached out, hands trembling, and gripped the hilt.
A soft hum filled the air.
From the hilt to the tip, the blade's color rippled—first a deep crimson, then fading into golden yellow, and finally ending in a brilliant magenta.
The swordsmith gasped. "That's… remarkable. I've never seen anything like that. Red alone is rare… but three different colors? You're blessed."
Willow nodded slowly, speechless. Her heart swelled with pride.
After offering a final bow and well wishes, the swordsmith left.
As soon as the coast was clear, Kokushibo stepped back into the room, his eyes falling on the blade in her hands. He said nothing, but a flicker of approval passed through his expression.
Before Willow could speak, the familiar flutter of wings filled the air.
A small black crow flew through the open window and landed on the sill, flapping its wings once.
"MISSION! MISSION! MISSION!" it cawed. "DEMON SPOTTED IN A SOUTHWEST VILLAGE! LURING PEOPLE INTO MOUNTAIN PASS SURROUNDED BY RUINS AND BURNED CAMPS!"
Willow's eyes widened in excitement. "My first mission…!"
Kokushibo blinked, staring at the talking bird with visible confusion.
Willow looked up at him with a wide grin. "That's Philza, my Kasugai crow! Isn't he cute?"
Kokushibo's expression remained unreadable. "He… talks."
"He does!" she giggled, then turned serious. "This is it. My journey as a Demon Slayer starts now."
Kokushibo looked at her with the faintest hint of a proud smile. "Then let us prepare."