"Completely carbonized…?"
In the courtyard, Yoriichi crouched beside the scattered metal fragments, his fingertips brushing the wreckage while it still held a trace of heat.
A quiet sigh slipped through him.
A Red Blade—in this era, it was treated as something bordering on myth.
Under normal circumstances, a swordsman needed an absurd level of grip strength—something like a vice capable of crushing steel—using violent physical compression to force the blade's temperature to spike, only then pushing it into the state known as Red Blade.
It was a double-edged sword.
A demon struck by a Red Blade would suffer wounds as though seared by the sun itself—cells dying instantly, regeneration brutally suppressed.
It wasn't just the Upper Moons. Even a monster like Muzan—who could regenerate almost instantaneously—couldn't mend damage like that. He could only howl through the burn.
But the cost was just as severe.
For the weapon, the burden of forcibly entering a Red Blade state was catastrophic.
Nichirin ore was special, but it was still, ultimately, metal. It wasn't meant to endure that kind of temperature for long.
Just now, a mere thread of Yoriichi's leaked aura had been enough to make the internal structure collapse completely.
"If I can't find a blade better suited to me, even cutting down demons later will become inconvenient."
With that thought, he lifted his gaze to Shinobu. The calm warmth returned to his crimson eyes.
"Shinobu… do you know where I could find a weapon that fits me better? Or… a swordsmith with truly exceptional skill?"
"Even if you ask me like that, I can't exactly—"
Shinobu tilted her chin up, an index finger resting against it as she fell into thought.
The Corps kept records on its smiths, but in truth, most were clustered around a similar level.
If they needed someone who could forge a blade capable of withstanding a sun's worth of heat…
After a moment, her eyes brightened—like she'd unearthed a sealed secret.
"Actually… there is a place like that. If it's there, you might really find a weapon better suited to you."
Yoriichi's gaze shifted. "Where?"
"The Demon Slayer Corps' most important logistics base—where every Nichirin blade is born."
Shinobu raised a single finger, smiling in a way that made the words sound like a whispered riddle.
"The village is hidden deep in the mountains. Its location is so well concealed that, to keep demons from discovering it, even we can only reach it by being carried relay-style by the Kakushi. The finest swordsmiths in all of Japan live there. Their entire lives are devoted to forging the strongest demon-slaying blades."
As she spoke, a faint, blurry flicker of memory passed through Yoriichi's mind.
Four hundred years ago… there had been people like that, too—wearing comical masks, yet pursuing their craft with a devotion that bordered on obsession.
His eyes narrowed slightly, voice low. "You mean…"
"Exactly."
Shinobu nodded, naming a sanctuary even Hashira could not freely visit.
"—Swordsmith Village."
"Swordsmith Village…?" Yoriichi repeated, the words oddly familiar on his tongue.
"That village is the Corps' heart—what keeps it alive."
Shinobu's expression sharpened. Patiently, she explained:
"Nichirin blades are the only weapons that can kill demons. If the swordsmiths ever suffer a disaster, the Demon Slayer Corps would take a devastating blow. That's why the village's location is classified at the highest level. Aside from Master Ubuyashiki and a very small number of designated personnel, no one knows its exact coordinates."
"To maintain secrecy, the route is deliberately complicated. Typically, Kakushi members carry you in relays. You're blindfolded, your ears are plugged, and after a certain distance, the guide changes—so that even the guides themselves can't piece together the full path."
So that was how it worked.
Yoriichi nodded once, accepting it without hesitation.
Then, without the slightest delay, he turned and started toward the Butterfly Mansion's gate.
Tap.
Before he could take more than two steps, a slender hand shot out and grabbed the sleeve of his haori.
"W-Wait!"
Yoriichi paused, turning back in mild confusion. "What is it?"
Shinobu pressed a hand to her forehead and sighed. "Where do you think you're going?"
"To Swordsmith Village," he replied as if it were obvious.
"And do you know where Swordsmith Village is?"
"…"
Yoriichi blinked once—slowly—then fell silent.
His memories from four centuries ago were clear, but the world had changed. Roads would have been swallowed by forests, or villages moved entirely.
Watching him stand there, momentarily blank, Shinobu let go of his sleeve.
"Honestly… your strength is monstrous, but in terms of basic common sense, you're unexpectedly… innocent, Tanjiro-kun."
She straightened her sleeve where it had been tugged and continued:
"I just told you it's the Corps' top secret. To stop demons from wiping it out in one strike, only a few people know the location. Even you can't just stumble into it."
She paused, then added, more practical now. "But since this is battle-related wear and tear, it's a legitimate request. I'll report it to Master Ubuyashiki for you and apply for permission—along with a dedicated guide."
Given what he had accomplished in the Mugen Train operation, and the fact he had saved the Flame Hashira, Master Ubuyashiki would unquestionably grant him the highest level of consideration.
Yoriichi hesitated.
He disliked burdening others—but rules were rules, and he truly didn't know the way.
So he turned back, looking at the petite girl before him, and said with sincere gravity, "Thank you."
"No need to be so formal. Besides, you helped me a great deal, too…"
Shinobu shook her head lightly. Then she lifted her hand, studying her palm with a trace of regret, smiling as she spoke.
"For some reason, I can't enter that strange state again."
That sensation—the world turning transparent, the laws of everything moving within her grasp—had been like a dream that bloomed and vanished the moment his guidance ended.
"That's normal. The Transparent World demands extreme focus and absolute control over your body. If you want to sustain it, you'll need repetitive, tedious training—controlling your breathing frequency…"
Yoriichi explained seriously, then softened his tone. "But your talent is high. With some practice, I don't think it will be a problem."
"Oh my, thank you for the compliment."
Shinobu rested one hand against her cheek, her violet eyes curving into crescents. Her smile was bright, threaded with playful teasing.
"But for some reason, being told I'm 'talented' by someone like you makes my feelings… strangely complicated."
Yoriichi blinked, apparently missing the teasing entirely, and tilted his head in puzzlement.
"Alright, enough joking." Shinobu rose smoothly. "Wait here for a moment. I'm going to see Master Ubuyashiki."
She turned, her haori drawing a graceful arc through the air as she walked away.
…
She passed through quiet corridors dusted in white gravel until she stopped before a set of doors.
This was the Ubuyashiki estate—the Corps' core, and its most sacred ground.
Shinobu gathered herself, her usual lightness fading into solemn respect.
She knelt, and through the door said softly, "Master Ubuyashiki. Insect Hashira Kocho Shinobu requests an audience."
"Come in, Shinobu."
A gentle voice answered from within—smooth as jade, as though it could soothe any restlessness in the heart.
Shinobu slid the door open.
Sunlight filtered through the paper screens, casting mottled patterns across the tatami.
A man sat there, composed and tranquil—his face heavily eaten away by the curse, his eyes blind—yet his presence still carried a calm that made others feel safe.
Even without sight, his smile remained, as if it could embrace everything in the world—an invisible force that could quiet even the most volatile swordsman.
Before Shinobu could begin, Kagaya Ubuyashiki's soft voice reached her first.
"You've come at this hour… Is it something to do with Tanjiro?"
Shinobu froze for the briefest moment. Surprise flickered in her eyes, then she lowered her head and let out a helpless little laugh.
"As expected, nothing gets past you, Master."
Kagaya tilted his head slightly. His unfocused gaze seemed, somehow, to look straight into her.
"Ever since that child returned, you've been staying at the Butterfly Mansion—eating with him, spending a long time with him in the courtyard… For you, Shinobu, who is usually buried in medicine and missions, that's quite rare."
There was no reproach in his tone—only something like a father's amused warmth, as if pleased to see a girl finally make a friend.
"T-That's…"
Shinobu's cheeks warmed for reasons she couldn't immediately justify. She almost blurted out that she was learning swordsmanship and observing that glutton's body structure—because his appetite was absurd, and his theories were too deep, and she'd gotten absorbed without realizing.
But rushing to explain would only make her look guilty.
Fortunately, Kagaya did not press the topic. His voice shifted, turning more serious.
"Alright. No more teasing. If you've set your work aside to come here, something must have happened that needs to be addressed."
He paused. "Tell me. What is it?"
Shinobu bowed deeply, then reported—succinctly—the destruction of Tanjiro's Nichirin blade, the extraordinary abilities he had displayed, and the strain his body carried.
After she finished, the Corps' leader grew thoughtful.
"I see… His power is too great. Ordinary metal cannot bear that heat…"
Kagaya's sightless eyes angled toward the window. "That child has been chosen by fate. We cannot allow a weapon to bind his hands and feet."
After a short silence, he made his decision.
"Then we follow protocol. Have the Kakushi carry him in relays and take him to Swordsmith Village. I will immediately dispatch our most trusted Kasugai crow to deliver the order."
"Yes."
Shinobu bowed—but after receiving the instruction, she did not retreat as she usually would.
She remained kneeling, hands placed neatly on her lap, as though weighing something.
"Is there more?" Kagaya asked gently, sensing her hesitation.
After a moment, Shinobu lifted her head. Resolve flashed through her eyes.
"Master… I would like to request permission to accompany him to Swordsmith Village."
"Oh?" Kagaya sounded mildly surprised.
As a Hashira, her workload was heavy. Leaving her area at this time was not common.
"That child is teaching me a special technique," Shinobu explained quietly. "It may be the key to killing an Upper Rank. I don't want to miss this chance. I want to continue learning from him on the way."
Kagaya paused.
Even without sight, he could feel it: the death wish that had long clung to Shinobu like poison—dense, bitter, and absolute—had thinned.
After a moment, he smiled with genuine relief and nodded.
"Then go. And perhaps soaking in the hot springs there will be good for you as well."
"Thank you, Master."
Shinobu bowed again, then rose to leave.
Just as her hand reached for the sliding door, Kagaya's soft voice stopped her from behind.
"You seem different today, Shinobu."
Her steps halted.
"When you used to come see me, you smiled… but behind that smile was always grief and anger you could barely contain—like a string pulled tight, ready to snap."
His tone held a fatherly kind of concern.
"But today… your footsteps sound lighter. As though you've finally set down something heavy… or perhaps… you've finally seen hope ahead."
With her back to him, Shinobu's violet eyes stirred with complicated emotion.
Hope…?
In her mind, she saw that boy—warm as sunlight—and the Transparent World he had shown her in a single, breathtaking instant.
Before, her future had only one path: to become poison, and perish with the demon in mutual destruction.
But now…
The corner of Shinobu's lips lifted into a softness she hadn't worn in a very long time.
"Maybe it's because… I met someone unbelievable."
She answered quietly, slid the door open, and stepped out into the afternoon sun.
....
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