Chapter 33: What an Interesting Combination
The night was as dark as ink, splashed across the rolling Mount Kumotori range.
Though spring had already arrived, within these high-altitude mountains,
the chill remained biting, as if winter's lingering power was unwilling to depart,
stubbornly occupying every crevice between rock and ancient wood.
Tatsu stood on a flat clearing halfway up the mountain,
tilting his head slightly as his gaze pierced through the layered shadows of the trees, locking onto a wooden cabin.
Kanae Kocho stood with her hands folded in front of her, a hint of conflict showing between her beautiful brows.
She looked at the cabin, which only emitted a faint glimmer of firelight in the darkness,
then turned to look at the resolute-faced Tatsu, letting out a soft sigh.
"Tatsu,"
"It's so late; are we really going to disturb them?
They should all be resting by now."
As a well-bred woman, visiting a stranger's house late at night was truly a breach of etiquette.
Her fingers lightly twisted the edge of her Haori, her eyes full of apology,
as if the master of the house she hadn't even met yet was already standing before her, rebuking her rudeness.
Tatsu turned around and saw Kanae's conflicted expression, finding it somewhat amusing,
but he felt more of an irritability brought on by a sense of urgency.
He naturally knew that a late-night visit was impolite; in human society, it was even an extremely offensive act.
But he had no choice.
"Kanae,"
"Have you forgotten what I am?
I am a demon."
He pointed to his own pale face.
"A creature like a demon can only move about at night.
If I were to swagger up and knock on the door during the day, before anyone could even open it,
I would turn into a pile of ash first.
Would you then be holding my funeral urn and telling them you're sorry for the intrusion?"
Kanae was momentarily choked by his words, then gave him a slightly reproachful glare:
"Tatsu, don't make such terrible jokes.
Even... even if you are a demon, you know this is still very rude."
"Etiquette is something reserved for those who can afford to live leisurely."
Tatsu pulled back his smile, his gaze becoming sharp,
as he looked toward the depths of the pitch-black forest, as if countless peeping eyes were hidden there.
"You know my situation.
That trash boss Muzan Kibutsuji could discover my abnormality at any time,
and the Hashira of the Demon Slayer Corps,
aside from you...
if they saw me,
they would probably put a nichirin sword to my throat without a second word.
My time is running out, Kanae."
"I must become stronger, racing against time to grow powerful.
The person living in this mountain is vital to me.
I cannot give up what might be my only chance just for the sake of so-called politeness."
Tatsu's tone was firm, carrying an unquestionable resolve,
"Besides, I have a premonition that if we don't hurry, it might be too late for some things."
Looking at Tatsu's determined profile, the hesitation in Kanae's eyes gradually dissipated, replaced by a touch of resolve.
She nodded gently and straightened her hair, which had been slightly tousled by the wind.
"Alright, since Tatsu has put it that way."
Kanae smiled faintly,
"Then let us be 'villains' for once.
However, the apologizing later must be done by me."
Looking at her, a warm current surged in Tatsu's heart.
This woman always found the gentlest way to accommodate all his selfishness and helplessness.
"Let's go."
The two walked side by side toward the wooden cabin.
The cabin drew closer.
Tatsu stopped, took a deep breath, and then raised his hand to lightly knock on the door.
Knock, knock, knock.
Inside the cabin at that moment.
Warm firelight danced in the hearth.
The simple yet tidy room was filled with a faint scent of charcoal fire.
A thin man sat by the fire,
his face pale,
as if he hadn't seen the sun for years, with a faint scar on his forehead.
It was Tanjuro Kamado.
Opposite him sat a young boy,
with red hair and red eyes,
and a burn mark on his forehead—a medal left from being burned by a brazier while protecting his younger brother.
Tanjirou Kamado was currently listening intently to his father's teachings.
"Tanjirou,"
Tanjuro's voice was very soft,
"Breathing. Pay attention to your breathing.
Whether it is swinging an axe to chop wood or dancing in the snow, breathing is the bridge that connects the body to the world."
He extended a withered finger and traced it lightly through the air; the movement seemed slow,
yet it carried an indescribable sense of rhythm, as if even the air was flowing with his fingertip.
"Through breathing, you can perceive many things that are usually overlooked.
The contraction of muscles, the flow of blood, and even... the enemy's openings."
Tanjuro looked at his eldest son with a smile, his eyes full of affection and expectation,
"This is the threshold of the 'Transparent World'."
Tanjirou nodded, only half-understanding.
Just as he was about to ask for more details, a sudden knocking at the door broke the silence of the room.
Knock, knock, knock.
Tanjirou was stunned for a moment, subconsciously looking toward the closed wooden door.
Who would come to such a deep mountain forest so late at night?
Except for going down the mountain to sell charcoal, their family rarely had visitors, let alone in the middle of the night.
"Strange..."
Tanjirou muttered, a hint of vigilance rising in his heart.
Although there were no wild beasts in these mountains, a late-night visitor was always unsettling.
Tanjuro turned his head slightly, his originally gentle gaze instantly becoming ethereal and profound,
the entire world losing its surface appearance in his eyes, leaving only the most fundamental lines and flows.
Transparent World, activated.
In his field of vision, the wooden door seemed to become transparent.
He clearly saw the two figures standing outside the door.
One of them was tall, but the internal structure of that body made Tanjuro frown slightly.
Those were not the bones and muscles of an ordinary person; the blood flowed extremely fast,
containing a violent power.
That feeling was like the creatures in the ghost stories his mother used to tell him when he was a child.
That was an... anomaly.
And beside that "anomaly" stood a woman.
Her body structure was that of a normal human, and a human who had undergone rigorous training at that.
Every breath she took followed a special rhythm, and the power within her body was like a trickling stream—gentle yet resilient.
"What an interesting combination..."
Tanjuro thought to himself.
A man who seemed like a demon and a woman who seemed like a swordsman, visiting late at night—just what was their purpose?