...
A long time passed.
Until the setting sun descended, the surroundings gradually darkened.
The lights of the Butterfly Mansion lit up, casting a warm, clear yellow light through the frosted glass, softly falling on Zenitsu's silhouette, illuminating his sideways.
Zenitsu still stood straight, looking towards the pitch-black road outside the gate that was devoid of any light.
Suddenly.
His ears twitched slightly.
Step, step...
"…!" Zenitsu's dull eyes moved, he saw a figure stumbling towards him on the dark road in the distance.
His heart, which had already quieted down, suddenly throbbed.
Is it my senior brother?
His vision was somewhat blurry, making him unable to see the figure on the road clearly.
But he felt that it must be the person he was thinking of...
Just as his nose was sour, preparing to cry and run towards that side.
Step.
The person, however, stumbled forward, leaning on a cane, and walked to a position where the face was barely illuminated by the light of the Butterfly Mansion.
White hair emerged from the darkness, revealed under the light, an exhausted old man leaning on a cane, his eyes lost, looking at Zenitsu who was stepping towards him.
Zenitsu's forward steps halted, he looked at his master, whose eyelids drooped due to old age,
"...Sensei." He called out somewhat dazedly.
Both of them, with faces full of exhaustion, stood one in front of the other under the faint light, standing on the pitch-black road.
The two, one old and one young, looked at each other and were silent for a long time.
In the end.
Zenitsu, whose eyes were already red, could no longer hold back the sorrow in his heart, he clenched his fists, and tears welled up in his eyes.
"Woo woo woo——Wah——!!"
Closing his eyes, Agatsuma Zenitsu rushed towards his master, hugged him tightly, knelt on the ground, raised his head, and burst into loud sobs.
Clang! The cane in his hand was thrown away.
The two embraced and wept.
...
...
Meanwhile.
Fujikasane Mountain.
A man dressed in a black uniform, holding a cylindrical lantern in his hand, was patrolling the small path in the wisteria forest.
"It's over again... How many people have fallen into the mouth of the demons on Fujikasane Mountain this time..."
The man's eyes were tired, he looked around:
"Poor children, everyone is fighting for their lives against the demons..."
His tone seemed somewhat self-deprecating:
"Only me, at such an old age, can only shrink back and do logistics..."
The light swayed with his steps, sometimes bright, sometimes dark.
He was the one who patrolled Fujikasane Mountain daily.
At this moment.
Whoosh!
A fast black shadow quickly flashed past him, stirring up a breeze, blowing his black cloth used to cover his face.
"...What!" The man was startled, quickly turned his head back, looked around, his face was surprised, faintly pale:
"What is that?"
The lantern in his hand shone in the direction of the wind, but there was nothing there.
Gulp.
He swallowed a mouthful of saliva, his eyes looked around, unconsciously retreating.
It can't be...
After looking around in horror, being scared into a cold sweat, and waiting for a long time.
He found that it seemed that nothing had happened, and he finally breathed a sigh of relief.
He turned his head, took a step, and started to run down the mountain quickly.
Even his patrol work has become just a casual glance, and then quickly leave.
Suddenly.
Step.
The man's steps paused, the lantern in his hand also swayed slightly due to the sudden stop of progress.
Cold sweat flowed down his forehead.
He stood in place, pondering for a moment.
——Am I... running away?
Sweat oozed from his palms, his breathing became rapid.
His pupils trembled slightly.
In his mind, the screams he heard these seven days kept ringing.
After being silent for a while, he casually pulled off a wisteria branch next to him and stuffed it into his arms.
He turned his head, clenched the lantern in his hand, and walked towards the uphill road with a determined expression.
...
On the mountain.
There are no longer areas covered by wisteria flowers.
Pitter-patter.
Tomioka Giyu, expressionless, stops in his tracks, slightly bends to relieve his momentum, and his haori flutters due to the abrupt halt.
He has been running around the edge of the wisteria forest on Fujikasane Mountain for a week, gradually narrowing his search area upwards.
Finally, at this moment, he found his target.
After gripping the Nichirin Sword at his waist, he lifts his deep gaze, looking at the unfamiliar Fujikasane Mountain in front of him.
That's right.
The shadow that just passed by invisibly, it was him.
During the day.
When he heard Kanzaki Aoi talk about a demon on Fujikasane Mountain that had eaten more than fifty people, Tomioka Giyu felt something was wrong.
He slightly lowered his gaze, memories surging.
Six years ago.
That was the period when he participated in the final selection.
That year, he was severely injured by a demon on the first day of the selection and fell into a coma. He was taken care of by other swordsmen until seven days later, when the selection ended, he slowly woke up.
That year, a swordsman named Sabito almost single-handedly exterminated all the demons on Fujikasane Mountain to save the rest of the team members from dying in the selection.
That year, no swordsman who participated in the selection died.
——Except for Sabito.
Shh... Shh...
Tomioka Giyu steps on the soft soil, straightens his waist, and walks straight ahead.
For six years, he has always thought this way.
He, who has not defeated a single demon and was only saved, did not pass the final selection at all.
Such a person naturally does not deserve to be a swordsman, let alone be called a "Hashira".
The one who should really become a Hashira.
Is Sabito.
——It's his close friend who died in the final selection for some unknown reason six years ago!
Now.
Tomioka Giyu lifts his head, his dark blue eyes like a tranquil lake look forward, the calm water surface reflects a huge green figure in the distance.
He knows why now.
Click.
The sword blue engraved with "Destroy Demons" words quickly unsheathes, reflecting Tomioka Giyu's rarely expressive face.
"Hiss——!!" White steam gushes from the corner of his mouth, his eyebrows furrowed, and his calm lake-like eyes become turbulent.
The corner of his mouth is slightly bitten, and his black hair hangs down, covering the gloomy expression.
He takes a small step back.
"Water Breathing."
"Tenth Form."
Whoosh——!
Like layers of waves stacking up, the sound rises from the sword, turning into a sudden wave.
Tomioka Giyu's eyes are firm, white mist spreads at the corner of his mouth:
——"Constant Flux——Seisei Ruten."
...
...
In the distance.
Mount Sagiri.
In front of an open space.
The fog is spreading around, a huge round stone tied with a thick shimenawa rope is sitting here.
Thirteen faint human figures surround the stone and slowly walk out of the fog.
On their faces, or bodies, they all carry disaster-warding masks carved by Urokodaki Sakonji.
Among them.
A boy with long flesh-colored hair and a long scar on the right side of his mask is sitting on the round stone.
All thirteen people are staring in a certain direction, standing still.
After a long time.
"...You've become stronger." Sabito extends his hand, his flesh-colored hair slightly fluttering, he takes off his mask, revealing silver eyes, he stares in that direction, murmuring.
Smiling:
"Giyu."
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