Giyu Tomioka is a quiet, introverted child—protecting the Lord and slaying demons is his life's vow.
He's also deeply sentimental. Every holiday he writes home to greet his master; the red haori on his shoulders is his sister Tsutako's keepsake… When she was killed by a demon shielding him, the boy decided to live on for the both of them.
He took the letter from Kagaya Ubuyashiki, and with a single glance knew it was Master Urokodaki's hand.
Remembering he hadn't gone home for New Year this time because he'd been tracking Akaza, he felt a stab of guilt, steadied himself, and began to read carefully…
"My Lord, I, Urokodaki Sakonji, bow in greeting.
Half a year ago I accepted a student named Kamado Rōichirō, whose talent is extraordinary. I report this especially to you."
So Master has taken on a student again, Giyu thought, genuinely happy for him. He'd always known how bitter Master's heart was—after Sabito died to the Hand Demon protecting him, he'd fallen into a long despair. To come out of it now was no easy thing.
He lifted his spirits and read on:
"Rōichirō is the most astonishing talent I have seen in my life. According to his younger brother Tanjiro, before he ever apprenticed to me he had already twice killed demons alone."
Giyu's eyes flicked—this new junior did have some skill. He continued:
"At first meeting he passed my selection in less than the time it takes to drink a cup of tea…"
"Within half a month he completed his first ten-thousand swings. His slashes leave the blade and can reach three meters…"
"Hm… half a month for ten-thousand swings, and slashes leaving the blade. Rōichirō is stronger than I was," said the Flame Hashira, Rengoku Kyojuro, his yellow hair tipped with bright red.
"Talent must be cashed in to shine—no need to be modest, Kyojuro." With a jeweled headscarf and twin blades chained across his back, the Sound Hashira Uzui Tengen thought back to his own harsh ninja youth; he wasn't shocked. If anything, the glassy-eyed boy beside him was even calmer…
Tokitō Muichirō, as usual, took no interest in anything. Half a month to ten-thousand swings? Sorry—he was the man who became Hashira in two months.
"Hss… hss…" The white snake Kaburamaru flicked its tongue—impatient. If the Lord hadn't asked Giyu to read, Obanai wouldn't have cared to listen; his haiku were more interesting. Beside him, the Wind Hashira Sanemi was even more irritable, struggling to keep from losing it in front of the Lord. Genius? Rōichirō? Not half as gratifying as killing demons.
"Giyu. Continue." Sensing the room drifting, the Stone Hashira Himejima clapped his palms: "Silence!"
The air seemed to still for a heartbeat, and quiet returned.
Giyu glanced at Kagaya; the latter nodded encouragement. He read on:
"Rōichirō… twice ten-thousand swings in two months, thrice in three, four in four, five in five, and now nearly six per day. His slashes can reach twenty meters…"
"And this without my teaching him any breathing—only his own effort…"
Huh?!
The mood—ruffled, quieted—shifted again, subtly.
The Insect Hashira Kocho Shinobu's eyes moved. "If it's as Urokodaki-senpaj says, we must admit—this child has talent."
From childhood she'd loved pharmacology; to dose correctly she'd chewed through anatomy texts. She had a deep sense of what the human body could do. "At the least, it means Rōichirō's physique is innately strong—no worse than an ordinary demon."
She glanced at Himejima—whose physique was likewise no worse than a demon's, perhaps better.
"Namu Amida Butsu…" Himejima fingered his beads and wept again—touched, whether by kinship or fate.
Giyu took it all in, then lowered his eyes to the end. He parted his lips—then found he could not read the last lines. He froze. Silence fell again.
"Done yet?" Sanemi snapped when nothing came, bloodshot eyes glaring.
Giyu didn't answer. All the Hashira looked over in surprise. At last the boy stirred, and turned to Kagaya.
"I'll read the rest," the Lord said with a smile.
"Yes."
He took back the letter and scanned the hall—voice meaningful. "I therefore rate this child Rōichirō as Kinoe-Upper.
"And if any one soul can kill Kibutsuji Muzan one day—it will be my student: Kamado Rōichirō."
?!
That name! Urokodaki—so confident!
Boom. The room ignited.
Rengoku burst out laughing. "Hahaha—I must meet this one!"
"To earn a former Water Hashira's guaranty, he must be remarkable."
"Or maybe it's all show? I want to see if the boy is as flashy as they say—able to kill Muzan!" Uzui's interest was piqued. Beside him, Muichirō blinked his hazy eyes. "Is it over?"
The Love Hashira Kanroji nodded hard; her stomach rumbled—hungry again. "I wonder if this Rōichirō eats as much as I do…"
Reactions varied. Finally the Stone Hashira said, "My Lord—bring the child. True talent should be fostered."
"Who will go?" Kagaya agreed and asked.
All eyes—save the dazed Muichirō—turned to Giyu.
Kagaya's did, too.
Giyu: "…"
Coldly, he spat two words: "I'll go."
His hand found his hilt; his resolve set. Let this big brother judge whether the boy merits such praise.
For once, fire burned in the quiet youth.
That day, the crow flew toward Mt. Sagiri bearing the news of Giyu's return.
At the same time—5:30 a.m.—
Roy, after supper served by Gotoh, slipped into deep sleep again, crossed the dream-tunnel into his cognitive sea, swam a little to clear his head, and pushed open the Demon Slayer door.
The drop—
He opened his eyes—no Makomo's bright gaze this time.
Ever since she learned Roy could see her, the girl had been hiding, and when he spoke she bowed her head and dared not meet his eyes…
A bit funny, a bit helpless. He let it be. As usual he ate breakfast with Master and went out to train.
Today—Physique had leapt. He would see if he could finally smash the bottleneck that had held him these many days.