31 Vol. II Demon Slayer: Floating Comment

"Who is this?"

"He's using the Breath of the Stars, isn't he?"

Murata leaned on his knees, gasping for breath as he tried to recover his strength.

"Haruto has another apprentice besides Genya? Why have I never heard of this?"

Of course, it might have been because, despite passing the selection at the same time, Murata and Haruto were little more than acquaintances.

But Tanjiro had no time to dwell on Murata's thoughts. The demon, enraged after narrowly dodging his attack, lashed out with renewed ferocity, launching itself at him with a relentless assault.

Though he was a successor to the Star Hashira, Tanjiro had only been learning swordsmanship for a short while, most of it self-taught. Each strike felt increasingly taxing, and he struggled to keep up. Fortunately, the other Demon Slayer Corps members weren't about to stand idly by. They swarmed forward, hoping to overwhelm the demon with sheer numbers.

In the chaos of blazing fire and clashing blades, two swordsmen fell to the ground, desperately rolling in the dirt to extinguish the flames engulfing them. Tanjiro pushed his limits, releasing one Breath of Stars technique after another. His arms felt like limp noodles, too weak to hold his sword steady.

I'm useless! Useless!
Why didn't I train my body harder earlier?
Tanjiro, get it together!

A deafening roar snapped him from his thoughts. The demon hurled two fiery projectiles straight at him.

No!

Tanjiro rolled backward, but the fireballs grew larger in his vision. He could already smell his hair singeing, the acrid scent curling in his nostrils.

One fireball grazed the side of his forehead, the searing pain shocking his brain into a haze. He lost sight of the second projectile entirely.

This is it...

As dread flooded his mind, a cool breeze suddenly swept through the burning night, damp and soothing, dispelling the oppressive heat.

A young man in a deep red haori patterned with rippling waves appeared out of nowhere, yanking Tanjiro backward with one swift motion. Without a word, the man drew his sword and stepped forward.

"Water Breathing: Fourth Form – Striking Tide."

The blade flashed, its movements flowing like an unstoppable tide. Even in that precarious stance, the man unleashed a flurry of precise, powerful strikes. The flame demon barely had time to react before it was reduced to a heap of dismembered, burning flesh.

Tanjiro gasped for air, his chest heaving as he stared at the man who calmly sheathed his sword. The young man's piercing blue eyes were steady, unreadable, as if he hadn't just slain a monstrous demon in the heart of an inferno.

Tanjiro sniffed the air instinctively. There was no lingering smell of blood, fear, or malice—nothing at all.

Murata, on the other hand, exhaled audibly in relief. "Thank goodness, Tomioka-san."

The man turned his head and gave Murata a slight nod. "Call the Kakushi to handle the cleanup."

Then, his gaze settled on Tanjiro.

"You use the Breath of the Stars. What is your relationship to Takanashi Haruto?"

It wasn't a question—it was a statement. This man, Tomioka, was clearly familiar with the Breath of the Stars.

"Haruto-san is my teacher," Tanjiro replied.

"I thought so."

Tomioka nodded, his expression unwavering.

"I understand now."

He stood under the night sky, his dark hair swaying in the breeze, silhouetted against the flickering flames.

"I'm Tomioka Giyu. I am... your teacher's peer."

...

The blade grazed Haruto's arm, drawing a thin line of crimson. Blood trickled down, vivid against his pale skin.

Under Tamayo's watchful eyes, the wound stopped bleeding almost instantly and began to heal.

"Does this mean... it worked?"

Haruto exhaled slowly, his taut nerves loosening slightly. Compared to his previous three injections, this was by far the most bearable.

"I reduced the concentration of Genya's blood in the serum significantly," Tamayo explained, her pen darting across her notes. "That's likely why there's no excessive regeneration or violent side effects this time. However, the reduced concentration also weakens the healing ability."

Haruto didn't understand a word of the medical jargon Tamayo muttered as she scribbled.

"And next?"

"We'll need to monitor you for at least a week. Record any changes in your body daily—I'll prepare a chart for you to fill out."

Tamayo allowed herself a rare moment of relief. After endless trials, she had finally achieved a small breakthrough. The next step was to enhance the serum incrementally while staying within the safety threshold.

Yushiro knocked gently on the door. "Tamayo-sama, Haruto's parrot is outside."

Haruto's brow furrowed.

What's going on?

He stepped outside, raising his arm for Sora to perch on his finger.

Back at the Butterfly Estate, Tanjiro sat awkwardly on a bench, watching the hustle and bustle of the medics tending to the injured. His eyes betrayed his confusion and exhaustion.

The entire night felt like a blur. He had no idea how to explain what had happened. If his family found out he was hurt, they'd be beside themselves with worry.

The man who had introduced himself as Giyu had accompanied the Kakushi, ensuring that all the injured swordsmen from the mountain were brought safely to the estate.

"He's not a member of the Corps," one of the medics said uneasily as they glanced at Tanjiro.

"He's Haruto's apprentice," Giyu replied simply.

The name seemed to act like a magic password. Another girl approached with medical supplies, her movements quick yet gentle as she cleaned and dressed Tanjiro's burns. He noticed the purple butterfly hairpin nestled in her dark hair.

"So, you're Haruto-san's student?" she asked with a familiar ease. "What's your name?"

"Kamado Tanjiro," he replied. "Um... about my family... They're still in the mountains. If they don't know where I am, they'll be very worried."

"Oh my, oh my, no need to fret," she said with a lilting tone. "The Kakushi will handle everything. Your family won't even know."

"But Nezuko... She knows about Haruto-san. I hope she doesn't overthink things..."

The girl's hands paused for a moment. Her touch, which had been gentle, suddenly felt slightly firmer.

"Nezuko? Who is that? Is she close to Haruto-san?"

"She's... my little sister."

The girl studied Tanjiro's young face for a moment before her smile returned.

"Ah, a child, then."

Her movements grew soft again, her voice tinged with amusement.

"If you continue as a Demon Slayer, we'll probably see a lot of each other. My name is Shinobu—Kocho Shinobu."

Tanjiro nodded, committing the name to memory.

After Shinobu finished treating his injuries, another girl whispered something in her ear.

"Shinobu, Haruto-san has arrived."

A faint floral scent wafted through the air.

Tanjiro's nose twitched involuntarily. It was a quiet, delicate fragrance, like flowers blooming in secret, unnoticed by the world.

Years later, Tanjiro would understand.

That moment had been a flower blooming—the blossoming of a young girl's heart.