"Do you think I'm incapable of thinking for myself?"
Faced with Tanjuro's suspicious gaze, Hiru quietly turned his head aside. After a brief silence, he finally spoke.
"This was completely an accident…"
"Even if what you say sounds reasonable, I still can't trust you," Tanjuro replied, his guard unwavering. "I don't understand demons, and I have no desire to. Compared to the Muzan you keep mentioning, I find you far more threatening right now."
"…I understand. After seeing with your own eyes that I'm different, it's only natural that trusting me would be difficult," Hiru said with a soft sigh. "Still, I hope you'll seriously think over what I said earlier. If you change your mind, you can find me in town at the house marked with the Wisteria crest. I'll be staying there until the New Year."
Looking at Tanjuro's stance—clearly ready to swing his axe the moment Hiru stepped closer—Hiru shook his head slightly and turned away without hesitation.
Tanjuro watched Hiru's retreating figure, his brow drawn tightly together.
[What is his true objective?]
[Why was he so shocked when he learned about my vision?]
[Even if there was a bond centuries ago, that was only between our ancestors. Why come all this way just to tell me?]
Tanjuro couldn't understand Hiru's actions, nor could he tell whether Hiru's words were true.
Yet when a demon—something that should have existed only in legends—stood before him in the flesh, Tanjuro had no choice but to consider the danger it represented, regardless of whether the so-called Muzan truly existed.
[Why did this have to happen now, of all times?]
[My life is nearing its end. How am I supposed to deal with these dangers for my family? How can I protect them?]
[That man calling himself Hiru reacted incredibly fast. With my current strength, I can't kill him—and an axe alone doesn't seem capable of slaying him either… Is there some condition that must be met?]
[And the Demon Slayer Corps, with a demon among them—can they really be trusted? Or is that still truly the Demon Slayer Corps? Is there any way to contact them without going through him and confirm the truth?]
Tanjuro stood alone in the clearing, lost in thought for a long time.
It wasn't until he heard the door open and his eldest son, Kamado Tanjiro, calling out to him that he snapped back to his senses. He turned and offered a faint smile to Tanjiro, who stood by the doorway, worry written all over his face.
"It's alright now."
Tanjiro looked at his father's gentle smile with unease. Though his expression appeared no different from usual, Tanjiro could clearly smell frustration and anxiety clinging to him. Even as his father reassured everyone that everything was fine and the matter had been settled, the scent told a different story.
Scents never lied.
That meant that, in his father's heart, the matter was far from resolved—and he was still deeply troubled by it. Yet despite his concern, Tanjiro didn't know how he could help shoulder that burden.
[That person never showed any malice, and there was no scent of deception during their conversation… So why did things turn out like this?]
Though he hadn't heard what they discussed or seen the scene himself, Tanjiro's keen sense of smell—something he'd possessed since childhood—allowed him to detect the emotional changes carried on the air, even from inside the house.
Compared to his father's scent, which was filled with vigilance, irritation, and eventually erupted into sharp hostility, the other person's scent had remained calm throughout.
For a fleeting moment, it even carried a sweet note of shock and joy, before inexplicably giving way to resignation.
[But Father rarely clashes with others, and he's always been gentle by nature…]
Tanjiro pressed his lips together slightly.
[What could have caused such a confrontation? And when Father showed hostility, that person only smelled of resignation…]
Tanjuro noticed Tanjiro's expression and frowned faintly.
"Tanjiro."
Tanjiro snapped back to attention and looked up at him. "Yes?"
"We need to talk," Tanjuro said, his expression serious. "Come inside."
"Alright." Tanjiro set his shoes neatly by the entrance and followed his father into the inner room. "What do you want to talk about?"
"I know you've been extremely sensitive to scents since you were little, and that you're good at noticing other people's emotions," Tanjuro said as he crouched down, placing a hand on Tanjiro's shoulder. "But you must never approach that person. No—stay as far away from him as possible."
"But—"
"There are no 'buts,' Tanjiro. You have to promise me this," Tanjuro said sternly. "If you ever smell a similar scent again, avoid it."
Smelling the heavy worry clinging to his father, Tanjiro nodded.
"Yes. I understand. I'll stay away."
"That's good…" Tanjuro lowered his head slightly. "Tanjiro, starting today, aside from the work needed to make a living, I need to teach you something else. For now, though, you'll need to avoid Kie, Nezuko, and Takeo when we do this… Can you manage that?"
"Yes! I'll do my best."
Even as he said that, Tanjiro soon noticed that after that day, before his father could begin teaching him anything, Tanjuro's condition rapidly worsened.
As a result, selling charcoal became entirely Tanjiro's responsibility.
"I'm sorry, Tanjiro," Tanjuro said softly, coughing. "Can you handle it on your own?"
"Yes, please don't worry," Tanjiro replied with a smile. "Father, just focus on getting better. I'll bring back medicine as well."
"Be careful, big brother," the girl said, wearing a kimono patterned with hemp leaves. Her cherry-red eyes were full of concern. "Maybe I should come help too."
"It's alright, Nezuko," Tanjiro said with a reassuring smile. "I'll be fine. I'll just do it the same way as last time."
Tanjuro reached out and gently patted Nezuko's head, then looked at Tanjiro.
"Go early and come back early. If it gets too late, stay in town for the night."
"Okay, I'll remember." Tanjiro slung the rope attached to the cart's handle over his shoulder. "I'll do my best to be back before dark."
Tanjuro watched as Tanjiro carefully pushed the cart down the mountain, a trace of worry crossing his face.
[I never thought that after stopping my Breathing Style, my body would deteriorate this badly. I don't know if I have enough time left to teach Tanjiro—or whether he'll be able to learn it in time…
And that person… I can only hope he's already gone.]