Two massive boulders stood upright in the snow.
Tanjiro stood before one of them, his blade swinging down again and again.
The skin between his thumb and forefinger had split open; blood soaked the hilt of his sword, yet the stone remained unmoved.
His heavy breathing echoed through the silent mountain forest.
"Too clumsy."
A lazy voice drifted down from the pine branches above.
Tanjiro looked up to see Inosuke reclining sideways on a tree trunk. Snowflakes settled on his long eyelashes, making his face look even more delicate—like a porcelain doll enshrined on a Buddhist altar.
"Inosuke-kun…"
Tanjiro wiped the sweat from his face.
"I still can't find the opening Urokodaki-san mentioned."
"That's because your blade is too clean."
Inosuke snapped his iron fan shut and leapt lightly to the ground.
"To cut something truly hard, relying only on your own effort isn't enough, Gonpachiro."
He walked to the other boulder, but didn't draw his sword.
Instead, he extended his long fingers and gently brushed the rough stone surface, his gaze growing distant.
"Sometimes, you need a little… guidance from those who came before."
The moment he finished speaking, a sudden gust blew away the surrounding mist.
Inosuke's skin tightened slightly. He didn't turn around; instead, a faint smile curved his lips.
"So you've come."
He murmured softly.
Tanjiro was still stunned when he noticed that atop the boulder, a figure wearing a fox mask had appeared at some point.
Orange hair fluttered in the wind.
The scars carved into the mask were painfully conspicuous.
Sabito.
"Your senses are sharp," Sabito said, his voice crisp and stern.
"Since you can see me, why don't you draw your blade?"
"Because I was waiting for you."
Inosuke turned around. This time, there was no arrogance or wild bravado.
Instead, he performed an elegant salute—one unique to the Eternal Paradise Faith.
A gesture reserved only for those he truly respected.
"Nice to meet you, Senior Brother."
He looked at Sabito without the slightest hint of surprise.
Of course he knew why this boy's soul lingered here—
to protect his junior,
and to wait for someone who could sever the nightmare.
Sabito froze for a moment, clearly not expecting to be called senior brother.
"You silver-tongued brat. Let your blade do the talking!"
Whoosh!
The wooden sword tore through the air with a sharp whistle.
Inosuke didn't draw his twin blades. He simply stepped back half a pace, lightly deflecting the attack.
"Too light, Senior Brother," he said softly as he evaded.
"You're too gentle. A blade like that can't kill that demon."
At the words that demon, Sabito's movements abruptly stiffened.
"What… do you know?"
"I know why you stayed here."
Inosuke stopped dodging. His iron fan snapped shut and tapped against Sabito's wooden sword like a short baton.
"You think you lost, so you have no face to see Giyu.
No face to be reborn.
Am I wrong?"
The words struck like a blade, piercing Sabito's defenses.
That name—
Giyu.
The dearest friend he had protected with his life.
In that fleeting moment of distraction, Inosuke slowly drew his twin blades.
This time, the steel didn't radiate violent cold.
Instead, it exuded a quiet, crushing pressure.
"Watch closely, Senior Brother."
"True protection isn't sacrificing yourself to save others—
it's crushing, completely and utterly, anything that threatens what you cherish."
Total Concentration · Ice Breathing
First Form · Gnashing Frost Fangs!
Inosuke didn't attack Sabito.
He turned instead toward the massive boulder, gathering his full strength and resolve, and sawed down with brutal force.
Zzzzzzz—!!!
A teeth-grinding sound echoed.
Under the serrated blade brimming with destructive intent, the seemingly indestructible rock split open like ice.
Crack!
The boulder split cleanly in two.
The cut was rough, but the sheer destructive power was undeniable.
Inosuke sheathed his blades and looked sideways at the stunned Sabito.
"Well?
This… is the path I've chosen."
Sabito stared at the shattered stone. After a long while, a relieved chuckle escaped from behind the mask.
"What a… strange guy you are.
Your methods are brutal, but your blade carries a resolve—
like you're trying to sever fate itself."
Sabito's figure began to turn translucent.
He looked toward Tanjiro, who was still struggling earnestly with his own stone, his voice softening.
"That boy… I'll leave him to you.
Don't let him… end up like us."
Inosuke nodded, his expression serious.
"Don't worry. As long as I'm here, no trash will touch him."
Sabito vanished.
In the swirling snow, only Inosuke and Tanjiro—still locked in battle with the boulder—remained.
Inosuke walked behind Tanjiro. For once, he didn't kick him.
Instead, he reached out and adjusted Tanjiro's grip on the sword.
"Don't use brute force, Gonpachiro," he said quietly.
...
Seven days later—
When Tanjiro finally split the boulder through his own realization, Inosuke was sitting elegantly in front of Urokodaki's cabin, sipping tea.
Urokodaki Sakonji brought out two masks.
One was the traditional warding mask, which he gave to Tanjiro.
The other was specially requested by Inosuke—a fox mask painted with a wide, grinning smile.
Its expression was wicked, yet carried an eerie sense of sanctity.
It looked remarkably like his father.
"Why choose this design?"
Urokodaki asked.
Inosuke accepted the mask and gently traced the patterns on its surface.
"To remind myself," he replied softly.
"Let's go, Gonpachiro."
Inosuke put on the mask, hiding his breathtaking face and revealing only a pair of emerald-green eyes.
"To Mount Fujikasane—
to collect the bodies… of our fallen senior brothers and sisters."
...
Mount Fujikasane, nightfall.
The scent of wisteria flowers was so strong it made one dizzy.
But to Inosuke, the stench of corpses was even stronger.
"Roar!"
Not long after entering the forest, a gigantic demon covered in arms blocked their path.
The Hand Demon—
the nightmare that had devoured thirteen of Urokodaki's disciples.
"Heeheehee~ Have some cute little foxes come again?"
Its murky eyes rolled as it stared at their masks, laughing nauseatingly.
"Perfect timing… the fourteenth and fifteenth!"
Tanjiro's grip on his sword trembled. He was furious—and afraid.
"Shut up."
A cold voice cut off the Hand Demon's boasting.
Inosuke stepped out of the shadows. He didn't draw his blade.
Instead, he calmly took out his iron fans and unfolded one to cover half his mask.
His movements were slow and refined, aristocratic even—
yet the killing intent pouring from him was thicker than that of all the demons on the mountain combined.
"Hey, trash,"
Inosuke's voice echoed from behind the mask, tinged with mockery.
"With this hand… you touched Senior Brother Sabito's head, didn't you?"
Slash!
The left iron fan swept out. A blade-like cold wind instantly severed one of the Hand Demon's arms.
"Aaaah!"
"Don't scream yet."
Inosuke slowly drew his serrated Nichirin blade.
"You ate thirteen people.
So I'll cut this pile of fat into thirteen hundred pieces—
and offer them as tribute."
"Tanjiro. Step back."
His tone brooked no argument.
"This thing… is my prey."
Total Concentration · Ice Breathing
Fourth Form · Chain-Shattering Ice Fangs · Funeral!
Inosuke vanished.
The next instant, he appeared above the Hand Demon's massive body. His twin blades spun like windmills, the serrated edges tearing savagely through its hardened flesh.
This wasn't a battle.
It was an execution.
A deliberate, brutal venting of rage—
a reckoning for the dead.
"It hurts! It hurts! What are you?!"
The Hand Demon screamed in terror as it realized its regeneration couldn't keep up with the cuts.
The boy in the smiling mask was like a tireless reaper, slowly dismembering it piece by piece.
"What am I?"
Inosuke landed on the demon's shoulder. The iron fan pressed to its neck, the serrated blade at its throat. Soft laughter leaked from beneath the mask.
"I am the Young Lord of the Eternal Paradise Faith."
Slash!
The serrated blade swept through. The massive head flew into the air.
The Hand Demon's body collapsed and disintegrated into the night wind.
Inosuke sheathed his blade. There was no joy of victory on his face.
He walked to where the demon had vanished and looked at the scraps of clothing left behind. Slowly, he removed his mask.
Under the moonlight, the boy's eyes were gentle—and sorrowful.
From his robes, he took out a handful of wisteria petals and scattered them on the ground.
"Rest in peace, Senior Brothers… Senior Sisters."
He whispered.
Behind him, Tanjiro watched, tears streaming down his face.
Only now did he truly understand who Inosuke was.
"…That's wonderful, Inosuke-kun."
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