Screen 1 – One Year of Training
A full year crawls by on Sagiri Mountain, carved by sweat, blood, and the sound of bones cracking against stone.
Tanjiro, Sans, and Papyrus train side by side — or survive together, depending on the day.
The Training
Tanjiro sharpens his Water Breathing forms until his muscles tear from overuse and heal slower each time. He moves through the forest with a blade that cuts cleaner than grief, his breaths sharp enough to slice the cold air apart.
Papyrus practices Bone Breathing — an art that should not exist, something Urokodaki refuses to explain.
Every morning the woods echo with the violent clatter of summoned bones, smashing against boulders, splitting trees, grinding against each other like a skeletal storm. The air always smells faintly of dust and death.
Sans learns Void Breathing, though Urokodaki watches him with a caution Tanjiro has never seen. Sans seldom trains seriously — often found asleep under a tree, hoodie pulled over his eyes — yet every time Urokodaki tests him, Sans moves like death itself is tipping the board in his favor.
And sometimes… the mountain shakes from something only Sans can sense.
Something answering him back.
Death on the Mountain
The traps on Sagiri Mountain are designed to kill — and they do.
One night during the fog drills, a demon slips onto the mountain, starved and cunning.
By morning, all that remains is a patch of crushed earth, black blood soaking the dirt, and a single glowing blue eye fading in the mist where Sans had stood.
Tanjiro never asks what happened.
Sans never explains.
Urokodaki silently repairs the damaged trees.
The mountain remembers.
The Gathering
One cold morning, Urokodaki gathers the three of them outside his house. His fox mask hides everything, but his presence is heavier than ever — like the mountain itself is holding its breath.
"You've each grown stronger," he says, voice deepened by things unsaid. "Your skills… your discipline… but more importantly, your minds have been tempered. Your resolve has changed. You've seen what this world is. What it demands from those who stand against demons."
Papyrus throws a proud pose, pointing dramatically at the sky.
"OF COURSE! THE GREAT PAPYRUS HAS TRAINED FOR THIS MOMENT!
NO DEMON SHALL ESCAPE MY RIGHTEOUS POWER!"
But his voice cracks — just slightly — remembering the nights he had to pull Tanjiro from the pit traps, bleeding.
Or the nights Sans didn't return until dawn, hoodie torn and bone dust clinging to him like ash.
Urokodaki steps closer. The mask stares at all three.
"You are no longer children.
From this point on…
every mistake you make will cost you flesh.
Or a life."
He looks at Sans last.
"And some of you… have less to lose."
A wind passes through the trees, cold enough to bite bone.
Tanjiro grips his sword, heart pounding.
The year of training is over.
But the true bloodshed is just beginning.
To be continued…