39 Demon Slayer: Floating Comment

The familiar scent of the Swordsmith Village lingered in the air, like the omnipresent tang of a massive steel forge.

Haruto severed his connection to the stars, shutting down his innate sensing ability. Even though he was now a Hashira, he still preferred not to delve too deeply into the Demon Slayer Corps' secrets.

What if he ever encountered a demon capable of reading memories?

The Gotokawa household was near the village entrance, so Haruto's shock of white hair was immediately spotted by Gotokawa.

"You again?" Gotokawa scowled, raising his voice as he strode toward Haruto. "Didn't I tell you? Don't come back unless you've found someone to marry—"

His tirade came to an abrupt halt as he noticed the Butterfly sisters behind Haruto, specifically Kanae, swaying slightly from the jostling ride.

The Kakushi carrying Haruto set him down carefully and removed his mask and earplugs.

"Thanks for the lift… Hey, Master Gotokawa! Guess what? I'm having dinner at home today!" Haruto waved cheerfully, his energy unwavering.

"A surprise visit, huh? Great," Gotokawa muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I wasn't prepared for this."

"Come on, it's just dinner! I won't eat too much, I swear. No need to go all out," Haruto said with a grin.

"It's not about the food!" Gotokawa huffed, stomping off in his wooden geta sandals. His tone softened as he turned toward Kanae. "Young lady, how old are you? Where are you from? When did you join the Demon Slayer Corps? Our Haruto here… well, he's a handful. You've had to put up with him, haven't you?"

Still shaken from the bumpy ride, Kanae blinked, stunned by the barrage of questions. "Uh, what?"

"Master, no!" Haruto exclaimed, half-laughing, as he grabbed Gotokawa's shoulder. "She's one of the newest recruits! She's here to discuss her Nichirin blade, not… whatever you're thinking!"

Gotokawa's face twisted as if swallowing a lemon. "Oh, right. Of course. Still, you never know—our Haruto's a good kid, really. I was just joking earlier." He forced a smile.

Shinobu pressed her lips tightly together to suppress a laugh. It was rare to see Haruto flustered, and even rarer to see him teased about marriage.

Haruto gave Kanae an apologetic look before asking, "Master Gotokawa, do you know who's been assigned to forge Shinobu's Nichirin blade?"

Gotokawa sighed, shaking his head as if Haruto had disappointed him yet again.

"Ask the village chief. He's the one who handles all the assignments."

Haruto nodded and gestured to the sisters, showing them the way to the chief's residence before excusing himself.

As he turned to leave, a jet-black crow swooped down and landed on the edge of the roof above him. Its tone was stern and deliberate.

"Haruto, Himejima is waiting for you at the hot springs."

Himejima Gyomei?

Haruto nodded to the crow, grateful for the message. It had been a long time since he'd last seen the Stone Hashira, not since moving to Sagiri Mountain. As two of the younger Hashira, there were matters they still needed to discuss.

He dashed home, quickly washed up, and sprinted toward the hot springs.

"Where are you going now?" Gotokawa called after him.

"Himejima-sensei invited me to the hot springs! I'll be back for dinner!" Haruto shouted over his shoulder.

Gotokawa sighed deeply, watching Haruto's figure vanish into the distance.

"This kid… I can't figure him out. He skips out on the girls to talk blades, but the moment a monk invites him for a soak, he's off like a shot."

Girls… monks…

Something clicked in Gotokawa's mind, and his eyes widened in realization.

Wrapped in a thin robe, Haruto arrived at the hot springs, blissfully unaware of the strange assumptions brewing in Gotokawa's head. He approached the mountain pool where Himejima sat, a towel draped over his head, soaking in the steaming water.

The hot springs in Swordsmith Village were famed not only for their relaxing properties but also for their ability to heal injuries and strengthen the body. It was a popular spot for the villagers during their rare moments of leisure.

Haruto slipped off his robe and waded into the pool, sinking into the water until it enveloped him entirely. The old scars on his body began to itch—a maddening, prickly sensation that he instinctively reached to scratch.

"Don't."

Even blind, Himejima's acute senses caught the movement.

"If you scratch, it'll hurt more later. Let the itch pass, the scars will fade with time."

Haruto reluctantly dropped his hand and sank deeper into the water. The two sat in silence for a while before Haruto stretched and leaned back against the edge of the pool.

"So, what brings you to the village today?"

Himejima inclined his head slightly. "I came to retrieve my Nichirin blade. I didn't expect to run into you. Congratulations on your promotion to Hashira." He paused, his expression unreadable. "I didn't think—"

"That I'd make it?" Haruto finished for him, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "I didn't think so either."

"No, not at all." Himejima shook his head. "The moment you mastered the Breath of the Stars, I knew there would be a place for you among the Hashira. The Breath of the Stars is incredibly powerful, and your perseverance and patience set you apart. The title of Star Hashira is merely a formality—a name to mark your achievements."

Haruto blinked in surprise, his lips curving into a genuine smile.

"Wow. Coming from you, that almost feels like praise. And monks don't lie, right?"

Himejima chuckled softly. "Indeed, monks don't lie. I just didn't expect you to work so well with children."

He'd met the Butterfly sisters before and knew Haruto was often accompanied by a child barely ten years old. To think someone like Haruto could connect so effortlessly with children—it was a testament to his nature.

If it were him…

"That man… he's a monster. He's the one who killed everyone."

The memory of accusation echoed in Himejima's mind, sharp as shattered glass.

"I'm guessing you don't like kids much, do you?" Haruto teased, moving closer and resting his arms on the pool's edge. "I still remember when we first met here in the village. You barely acknowledged me. Back then, I thought, 'Wow, this guy's ego is as big as his size.'"

Himejima bowed his head, hands pressed together in apology.

"I'm sorry for giving you that impression. At the time, I had just been released from death row by Ubuyashiki-sama. I was… wary of everything around me."

"Because of what happened at the temple?"

Himejima's shoulders stiffened. After a moment, he sighed deeply and nodded.

"Yes, the temple."

He fell silent, as if steeling himself to reopen an old wound.

"I used to care for orphans there, children with no one else to turn to. Despite my blindness and frail body, I thought that living peacefully with them was a blessing from Buddha.

But one night, a child returned late after encountering a demon. Out of fear for his own life, he made a deal with it.

Under cover of darkness, he crept back into the temple and extinguished the wisteria incense I'd lit to ward off demons.

The demon stormed in and slaughtered all seven children.

The youngest, Sayo, was the only one who listened to me and stayed put. I fought with everything I had to protect her, smashing the demon's head over and over until dawn.

I thought… I thought she would thank me, even if just with a simple 'Thank you for saving me.' But instead, she pointed at me and screamed:

'That man is a monster. He's the one who killed everyone.'

The villagers believed her. They threw me into prison. If not for Ubuyashiki-sama, I would've died there."

The raw pain in Himejima's voice was palpable, more vivid and devastating than any secondhand account Haruto had heard.

It wasn't hard to see why Himejima had such a hard time trusting children. Haruto doubted he would've handled such betrayal as gracefully.

"I never doubted you, Haruto," Himejima said softly, wiping the tears that streaked his face. "You've lived in this village and fought for the Corps far longer than I have. My distrust wasn't personal—it was simply my inability to face my own demons."

Hearing that, Haruto felt an invisible weight lift from his chest. "Thanks. That means a lot."

He hesitated, then asked, "Sayo was the girl who accused you. But what about the boy who made the deal with the demon? Did he survive?"

Himejima's lips pressed into a thin line. "… He's probably still alive."

The name lingered unspoken, a bitter pill Himejima struggled to swallow. Finally, he exhaled.

"His name… was Kaigaku."