The House with the Wisteria Family Crest—rumor had it that the ancestors of its owner had once been saved by demon slayers. Ever since, they had offered their services free of charge to any demon slayer who came.
Even so, Sui hadn't expected hospitality to reach this level.
"This is a bit too much…"
Looking at the untouched rice and dishes in front of her, then at her completely full stomach, the girl's lips twitched slightly.
A mountain of rice nearly thirty centimeters high—was that really meant for a human to eat?
On the verge of questioning life itself, Sui turned her gaze toward Shinjuro Rengoku . He was fully engrossed in eating, his entire face practically buried in a specially made oversized bowl. From the outside, only his flame-like hair could be seen trembling slightly, while the food on the table vanished at an astonishing speed—as if those flames had burned everything clean away.
"Another bowl!"
the man shouted, raising an empty rice bowl without a single grain left.
It seemed his appetite rivaled his swordsmanship. After confirming this, Sui silently withdrew her gaze.
"Is the food not to your liking?"
Noticing that her rice was barely touched, the man turned to ask.
"It's very good, but I'm already full…"
Hearing her say that, a look of surprise appeared on his face. In his worldview, neither he, nor his eldest son, nor his second son—nor even his wife—ate so little. Not to mention his colleagues in the Demon Slayer Corps.
"Are you sure it's not just that it doesn't suit your taste?"
Sui's maturity, far beyond her years, made Shinjuro suspect she was merely being polite.
"I'm really full."
Sui smiled wryly.
His expression made her feel like she was the abnormal one—as if a normal person should be devouring rice piled as high as their forearm like he was.
"…Well, if it doesn't suit your taste, you can say so. The master of the Wisteria House is a kind person—he won't mind something like that."
Shinjuro nodded, taking another freshly served bowl.
"Speaking of which…"
He sized Sui up.
"How old are you this year?"
Sui fell silent for a moment.
"Yesterday was my sixteenth birthday."
"I see…"
Noticing the sudden gloom in her expression, the man spoke up.
"You're quite a bit older than my two boys, but I think they'd really like you!"
"You already have two children?"
Sui focused on something entirely different.
There were hardly any signs of age on Shinjuro Rengoku 's face—he still looked like a man in his prime. It was hard to imagine that he was already married, with children around her age.
"Nothing worth mentioning."
The man shook his head.
"In terms of character and experience, my two boys are far behind you. When you were already taking up a blade to slay demons, they were still training hard with wooden swords."
Shinjuro smiled.
"You're so outstanding I almost don't want to hand you over to that old man."
Sui tilted her head in confusion. Her bangs shifted slightly with the motion, revealing the faint, blood-red streak at the corner of her eye.
"The Demon Slayer Corps is an ancient organization with hundreds of members. Though not recognized by the government, it has existed for a long time—known throughout history as demon hunters."
The man explained.
"After receiving training from instructors scattered across the land, members must pass the Final Selection—survive seven days on Mount Fujikasane, where demons are imprisoned. Only then can they join the Corps. At that point, they are issued a Nichirin Blade, a uniform, and a Kasugai Crow for communication."
"I've contacted a well-known instructor for you. He's the former Thunder Hashira, and also my senior. People like us are meant to die on the battlefield, but he unfortunately lost a leg and retired to Mount Momoyama, where he now trains the next generation."
Shinjuro pointed to his dark, high-collared uniform—buttoned neatly, its design resembling military attire for ease of movement.
"Lord Rengoku."
At that moment, the door slid open. Someone stood outside, holding a letter.
"Your message."
After handing it over, the person quietly withdrew.
"Two letters?"
Shinjuro raised an eyebrow, even setting down his chopsticks.
In Sui's eyes, his expression visibly darkened. His flame-shaped brows drew tightly together, and a wave of heat seemed to rise from around him.
"I originally planned to accompany you to meet that old man—I haven't visited him in a long time. But it seems I can't now. I've received a new mission. A Corps member has reported traces of an Upper Rank demon in the south. I must head there immediately."
His voice grew low as he handed the other letter to Sui.
He stood, putting on his haori. The flame-like patterns seemed to blaze, and even Sui could sense the intense fighting spirit surging from him.
"Tomorrow, take this letter and head north to Mount Momoyama. Look for an old man named Jigoro Kuwajima—he will be your teacher."
(is rendered here as Jigoro Kuwajima in standard Demon Slayer naming; "Sakonji" appears to be a slip—keeping consistency as Jigoro Kuwajima.)
Shinjuro picked up his sword and gave his final instructions.
His solemn demeanor made Sui feel as if she were standing on a battlefield. Even without knowing what an "Upper Rank" truly was, she could tell it was an enemy that even a Hashira approached with utmost caution.
She stood and gave a slight bow.
"Then I wish you victory in battle."
"Hahaha! Of course!"
The man laughed heartily, giving a thumbs-up.
"You take care as well, kid."
With that, he pushed the door open and left. The room fell silent.
Sui picked up the letter and opened it, silently memorizing the key locations and the appearance of the former Thunder Hashira.
The man is named Jigoro Kuwajima.
A large scar across his face, short in stature, walking with a cane. After retiring from the front lines, he had secluded himself on Mount Momoyama, becoming an instructor for the next generation of Thunder Breathing users.
The letter even included a few personal notes—mentioning that although Mr. Kuwajima was strict, he was kind at heart. The tone clearly wasn't Shinjuro's; it was more likely written by the leader of the Demon Slayer Corps.
"Breathing techniques…"
Sui lingered on this unfamiliar term.
No one was here to explain it to her, so she could only guess. That night, when she faced demons, she had realized something—
These creatures were not something ordinary humans could fight with conventional means.
Demons could tear through walls and shatter stone with ease. Against them, the fragile human body was nothing more than food.
But if the Demon Slayer Corps existed to hunt demons, then naturally, they must possess some method to fight back.
Like Shinjuro Rengoku .
The presence he exuded was unbelievable. Standing before him felt like facing a silent volcano—impossible to imagine the immense power hidden within that body.
"If demons exist, then naturally, so do those who slay them…"
Sui put away the letter, lay down, and slowly closed her eyes.
While she had been reading, someone had entered to clear away the dishes and prepare her bedding. The people of the Wisteria House truly devoted themselves wholeheartedly to supporting the fight against demons.
A candle burned quietly in the corner of the room.
Until late into the night, when it finally burned out.
The room fell into darkness—only to suddenly be illuminated by an eerie pale blue glow.
A chilling aura, like a frozen wasteland, spread through the faint light.
The girl half-opened her eyes, gently touching the corner of her eye, where that crimson streak glowed like blood.
"So then… what exactly is this?"
She stared blankly at the wooden ceiling, then suddenly grinned to herself.
"Whatever it is… at least they're afraid of me."