Chapter 43: Grind It a Hundred Times!
So you just left her on that freezing battlefield? Let the enemy defile her?
Ryuji knelt on a tatami mat, listening to Tetsugane Iwao's words, a little speechless. That was a crude way to put it; anyone who didn't know better would think he was the king of deserters. "Mm."
Even with the Fire God mask on, Ryuji could hear Tetsugane's ragged breathing.
It was his second day in Swordsmith Village. When he'd arrived yesterday, Ryuji had met the village chief, Tetchikawahara Chintetsu.
Tiny as she was, she'd given him some candied kudzu.
After Ryuji explained why he'd come, Chintetsu had fallen silent for a moment, then told him to go soak in the hot springs first and recover from his injuries.
After that, he was to seek out Tetsugane Iwao—so here they were.
"Sigh…"
Tetsugane exhaled, steadying his temper, then asked, "I heard it was an Upper Rank? Looks like little Shiko's sacrifice brought you back."
Ryuji nodded. "Mm."
"Fine. A worthwhile sacrifice, then. What kind of blade do you want?"
Tetsugane asked as though resigning himself.
"A gauntlet. One that hugs the forearm but leaves the fingers free."
Tetsugane stayed silent so long Ryuji thought he would refuse.
"Alright."
Slowly, Tetsugane nodded, voice hoarse. "But you'll come with me."
Ryuji exhaled in relief. As long as it could be forged. His request was extreme—no Demon Slayer before him had ever asked for such a thing, and likely none ever would again.
A gauntlet-type nichirin blade was more outlandish than a broadaxe or a meteor hammer.
"Understood."
"Then let's go."
Tetsugane rose and led Ryuji almost the full length of Swordsmith Village to a remote forge.
The door slid open; a blast of hot iron air hit them—forge fire—and the place was a mess.
"Wait here a moment."
Tetsugane stepped inside, returning with a single lump of Ore.
"Let's move."
Ryuji eyed the lone chunk of Ore. That was it?
Enough metal for a gauntlet?
Uneasy, he followed, and the farther they walked the more uneasy he became.
They were deep in the woods now, utterly secluded.
Could Tetsugane be planning to murder him out here and bury him beside little Shiko?
Tetsugane pushed aside a thicket, and through the leaves Ryuji saw a neat row of small earthen mounds.
Each had a wooden marker and dango offerings in front.
A graveyard.
Ryuji watched Tetsugane walk to a freshly dug pit and drop the Ore inside.
"Cover it. Since she chose to follow you, you'll send her off the last step."
Tetsugane's voice was low.
Without a word Ryuji took the spade and began filling the hole.
Tetsugane's eyes never left his hands.
"Done."
Ryuji tamped the earth and murmured.
"Good."
Tetsugane handed him a blank wooden tag. "Once it's set, we go back and start forging. Then you swear to cut down that accursed demon!"
He spat the words through clenched teeth.
Ryuji took the tag. In small letters it read: Beloved daughter Shiko, slain by an Upper Rank.
He planted it firmly, pressed his palms together, and whispered, "Sorry."
Then he met Tetsugane's gaze. "I'll kill that demon. I swear."
Tetsugane said nothing. They walked back in silence. Inside the shop he measured Ryuji's hands.
"Measurements done. Go wait. When she's born I'll deliver her myself."
He jerked his head up, eyes blazing behind the mask with a pure, focused Killing Intent.
"Let me warn you!"
He twisted to face Ryuji. "If you ever break my daughter again I'll tie you to the whetstone and grind you—back and forth—a hundred times!"
"I won't, absolutely won't!"
Ryuji bowed frantically, cold sweat flying, then bolted.
"Phew, scary. Well, one more hot-spring soak and I'm out of here."
He soaked again, body and soul soothed.
Days later Ryuji strode through Demon Slayer Corps headquarters heading for Butterfly Mansion to check his condition.
Ready to teach.
"Oh! Lord Ryuji!"
He turned at the familiar voice—Arai Daisuke.
"You…"
Ryuji stared at the man who now had only his left arm.
"Haha, it's fine."
Reading the silence, Arai laughed. "I can't swing a blade, but I'm not quitting the Corps."
He thumbed his chest.
"I can train new recruits, even work at Butterfly Mansion—still fighting to wipe out the demons!"
He thrust out his left hand, eyes burning.
"Fist Hashira, take my share and slay them! Please!"
Clasp.
Ryuji gripped the offered hand. "I will."
They parted. At Butterfly Mansion, Kocho Kanae pronounced every wound healed.
A little over a week.
"Monster…"
She murmured, watching Ryuji leave.
Training ground.
Some swordsmen were already waiting.
"Hey, heard the new Pillar of Fist is training us."
"Yeah—wonder what he's like!"
"Even former Thunder Pillar Jigoro Kuwajima's here; this'll be brutal!"
Whispers flew.
"Giyu, you nervous?"
Sabito asked Tomioka Giyu.
Tomioka shook his head. "Why would I be?"
"Then stop shaking—you're making me dizzy."
Before he could answer, a crows cried:
"Fall in! Instructor arriving!"
Sabito and Tomioka looked toward the gate; they hadn't met since Mount Fujikasane three months ago.
In the crowd Jigoro Kuwajima narrowed his eyes, curious how Mochizuki Tosaburo's brat would perform—and whether the method could toughen the boy he'd just taken in.
"Oh, blazing enthusiasm!"
Rengoku Kyojuro watched the swordsman who'd once sparred with his father, now a Pillar, and flames roared in his eyes.
If his father sank deeper, he'd drag him back with sheer passion!
Ryuji surveyed the familiar faces and smiled.
Good—time to strengthen the Demon Slayer Corps.
He faced the swordsmen, drew a breath, and in a voice like a demon's whisper called:
"Ready to enter Hell?"
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