Disclaimer: Demon Slayer is not mine. This fanfic is a translation.
Enjoy Reading!
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"Caw! Caw!"
A single crow flapped its wings as it glided across the sky.
The clouds were forming together, turning the sunny day into a cloudy one with a chance of rain.
A breeze swept from the north, carrying cold winds and leaves.
"...boring..."
The man muttered as he took a big sip from the alcohol pot in his hand. Some of the liquid escaped through the corner of his mouth, staining his clothes and pooling on the tatami mats he sat on as he saw the scenery from the entrance of his veranda.
Bang!
The man smashed the pot onto the corridor under the eaves. The crystal-clear sake splashed out and made a mess on the wooden corridor.
He leaned against the door frame, casually wiping his mouth from the drooling wine as his eyes wandered to the distant gloomy sky.
His golden hair that faded into red lost its luster, and his sideburns had not been trimmed for many days.
His chin was also covered with stubble, and he looked like a decadent man.
"...it's meaningless; it's all meaningless." He breathed deeply and exhaled the pent-up frustrations in his heart.
This man is Rengoku Shinjuro.
The current Flame Hashira.
He had been visited by his eldest son, Kyojuro, and his excited retelling of his experiences on his recent mission. Shinjuro only felt a burst of resentment and depression.
'Even if... you become a Hashira.'
'So what...'
'What is it good for...?'
The contents of his family's 'Flame Breathing Manual' still lingered in his mind.
More specifically, he never forgets it.
Every word written in it seemed to be whispered into Shinjuro's inner demon, feeding his insecurities.
If such a powerful swordsman failed to kill the Demon King.
Then, what hope could an ordinary people have...?
No matter how hard you try, it's all useless.
"...tch."
Shinjuro picked up his pot to drown his feelings again, but the sake only spilled out a few remaining drops.
Shinjuro shakes the hand holding the sake pot for a moment, confused. Then, he slowly stood up stiffly and put down the pot. "There's no more sake..."
He turned around and saw his youngest son skulking in the doorway of their house, secretly sneaking a peek at his figure.
Seeing Shinjuro moving toward him, Senjuro, with a broom in his hands, quickly made himself scarce. Not wanting to be on the receiving end of another of his father's tirades.
Shinjuro didn't pay attention to Senjuro or didn't bring himself to care. He walked unsteadily as he rubbed his stubble and walked out of the mansion with his empty sake pot.
...
The air outside is thick with humidity and very uncomfortable.
The path to the entrance of the Rengoku's household is usually deserted.
Shinjuro stumbled his way down the road to his frequent izakaya.
His usual tavern to buy some sake was within his sight, considering his mansion is near to its location.
When something caught Shinjuro's attention,
"A hanafuda earring!" His eyes widened as he apprehended the person it was attached to.
The man is wearing a dark haori with a yellow kimono underneath. He didn't seem to notice Shinjuro blatantly ogling him from across the street.
Shinjuro's drunken haze seems to snap out of his head as he focuses on the earrings and...yes.
The description of the hanafuda in his sight... is the same as the one drawn in the 'Flame Breathing Manual' in the Rengoku's library!
'It's exactly the same!'
'This guy...!'
Thump!
The sake pot he held in his hand was dropped to the ground as his concentration was taken away from it.
"Hey! You there!"
Shinjuro called out, raised both his hands in the air, and waved them, trying to catch the man's attention.
"Wait!" His pupils contracted, and his thick eyebrows trembled uncontrollably. Desperation seeped into his voice.
"Hey—cough, cough!" Shinjuro's throat was hoarse due to only drinking alcohol for who knew how long.
But he was determined to get the man's attention as he reached him and tapped him on the shoulder.
Shinjuro has so many questions in his heart, but his hoarse throat makes it harder for him to speak.
"?" Tanjuro turned around to look at the man tapping him.
The first thing that caught his eyes was the bright yellow fading into red hair on his head and the thick eyebrows.
Only one person that he is acquainted with has that same hair color and eyebrows.
'He's... Kyojuro's father?'
Tanjuro realized and fully turned his attention to the panting man and asked confusedly.
"Is there something wrong?"
Shinjuro stood there, taking in Tanjuro's appearance. His eyes scanned back and forth between the mark on Tanjuro's forehead and his earrings.
His suspicion was confirmed! This man is the user of the Sun Breathing!
A genius among geniuses!
His gaze turned downward to Kusabimaru perched on the man's waist.
A user of Sun Breathing has joined the Demon Slayer Corps!?
"You..." Shinjuro's hoarse voice sounds a little weak. He was in shock and awe at the same time.
"What are you... doing now?"
Shinjuro felt a little embarrassed that, of all the things to ask, why is it that he could only utter these words?
Only those who have the marks are users of the Sun Breathing.
For such a person...
'Why would he care to share with you!?'
And thus, Shinjuro's awkward attempt at a civil conversation he had never had with his own sons was even more flustered when he was with a stranger.
Tanjuro tilted his head.
"Me...?" He's pointing at himself.
"Oh, I'm going to see my family now." Tanjuro smiled and nodded to Shinjuro. His crimson eyes shone with the Kamado-kindness that smothered you. His tone of voice was light and gentle.
"It's been a while since we last met."
"What about you? Kyojuro should've returned last night, right?"
Tanjuro asked while looking in the direction of the Rengoku mansion.
"Kyojuro...?" Shinjuro was stunned to hear his son's name come out of this person's mouth.
He never thought his son would get close to a user of Sun Breathing.
Maybe he should have paid attention to Kyojuro's rambling yesterday...?
Seeing Shinjuro's silence, Tanjuro moved the topic away and pointed to the end of the road.
"By the way, the Butterfly Mansion is down this road, yes?"
"...ah... uh..." Shinjuro snapped out of his daze but stammered his way to answer the simple question.
"...yes."
"I see. Thank you."
"Then, I won't bother you any longer. Goodbye." Tanjuro nodded his head as he turned around and continued walking to meet his family.
"..."
Shinjuro stood there stunned. His hand clenched in and out unconsciously, as if trying to hold on to something, preferably the rope tying his sake pot.
He watched as Tanjuro's figure got further and further away and disappeared from his vision.
It took a while for him to come back to his senses.
'What the heck...'
He scratched his stubbly chin, and his whole tense body finally relaxed.
'He's just like a normal person...'
Without prompting, a woman with red eyes, straight black hair, and a gentle smile appeared in his mind.
Shinjuro turned around; his feet automatically carried him to his self-assigned task.
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Sreek...
"Hm?"
The door to the izakaya was opened. The boss sitting behind the counter looked, and after seeing who it was, he raised his eyebrow and stood up to greet his guest.
"Back again, Shinjuro-sama?"
He watched as Shinjuro walked in and sat on the stool at his counter.
"Same as usual today? A pot of sake to go?" He asked nonchalantly. Already expecting the same exchange.
He took out the pot that he had hidden behind the counter filled with the finest sake in the land. He placed the pot in front of Shinjuro with a smile.
Only... something is different today.
"No." Shinjuro shook his head, pushing the pot of sake toward the owner a little bit, and handed over his empty pot at the same time.
"I don't think I'm going to drink anymore."
"Give me a cup of tea."
"Huh?"
The owner was incredulous. He put his pinky to his ear and dug in, trying to clear the airway.
"I'm sorry, Shinjuro-sama. It seems there's something wrong with my ear."
"Could you please say that again, Shinjuro-sama?" He moved his ear closer, as if he would really miss what was being said by Shinjuro.
"Give me a cup of tea." Shinjuro doesn't even notice the owner's antics and repeats his order, lost in his own thoughts.
"Oh..." The boss leaned back. Then, he looks the man in the eyes.
The fiery fire of his soul has been turned into a smoldering coal that was about to be snuffed out. It seems the wind of change has blown and sparked an ember back into the man's eyes.
The corner of his mouth curled up into a smile slightly.
"...ain't that something..." he muttered as he put away the pot of sake and went to prepare a pot of hot tea.
Thump.
"But..." The owner placed the whole set of tea in front of Shinjuro and gently pushed it forward.
"That's more like it..." His tone was more relaxed with relief mixed in.
"Welcome back, Flame Hashira-sama."