Disclaimer: Demon Slayer is not mine. This fanfic is a translation.
Enjoy Reading!
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The kakushi members finally arrived in the village and immediately helped the villagers between ruins and buildings.
They had decided to move the village to a new location before nightfall.
Tecchin walked in front of the group to their temporary residence, where they would rest.
'The swordsman who had been fighting for us must need a good rest for a while.' That's what Tecchin thought.
"An heirloom, is it? I see." Tecchin nodded at Tanjuro's answer as if he understood something.
"The one in my house is also handed down from my ancestors." He said as he carefully checked out Tanjuro's appearance.
'It's so similar.'
Tecchin looked at Tanjuro's mark on his forehead and his dark red haori.
If it weren't for the different surnames, he would have suspected that Kamado Tanjuro was a direct descendant of the original user of the breathing technique from the Warring States period.
Shinjuro glanced at Tanjuro too and then at the Nichirin blade in his hand, or what was left of it. He shifted his gaze to Tecchin.
"Ah, right, Flame Hashira-san." Tecchin noticed Shinjuro's gaze as he turned toward the man. His eyes drifted toward the broken Nichirin blade.
"Your blacksmith is still the same one as before; he should have contacted you about this."
"Yes, I know." Shinjuro nodded as he looked around at the ruins.
Tanjuro let the conversations wash over him. He was focusing on the life force inside him.
—Two Upper Moons were killed in this adventure.
The Battle Memories and the power of resurrection he had gained had already improved his physique to the point where he could maintain a normal Hashira combat power without relying on burning his reserve.
Indeed, it seems the fastest way for him to recover is to find an Upper Moon to murder.
'I'm glad I came to the Swordsmith village.'
"Uncle!"
A childish voice along with a sob came from the running child in front of them.
Shinjuro, Tanjuro, and Soichiro quickly raised their heads and focused their attention on the new addition to their group.
It was a boy wearing the same Fire God mask as the rest of the villagers. He was wearing a short-sleeved shirt with the kanji for "Fireman' written on his back. He was running and crying toward one person in particular.
"Uncle! Are you okay!?"
Just as the boy ran over to hug his father, Tanjuro's appearance entered his vision.
"Eh?"
The boy stopped in surprise, forgetting his sadness for a moment, and stood there in disbelief.
"Kotetsu!"
Tecchin squatted down and hugged the boy.
"It's okay, it's okay." Tecchin smiled as he picked up Kotetsu.
"The village chief said that in the near future, I will be the next chief!" He raised his hand up in the sky and proudly declared.
"How could anything happen to me, right?"
Kotetsu snapped out of his daze and buried his face on his father's neck. He sobbed, and tears streamed out of his eyes as he nodded vigorously. "...yes, yes!"
"Now, now, don't cry so easily; your mother will be sad if she sees you crying."
"Un!"
Suddenly, Kotetsu stopped his crying, though you can still hear him sobbing.
"But, Uncle..." Kotetsu wiped his tears from his mask. He stole a glance at Tanjuro.
"Th-the doll is damaged because of the sudden storm attack last night." He continued in a frustrated tone. "I... I don't know what to do..."
"Hah?"
The people that followed him watched Tecchin's immediate change. They witnessed his body language turn stiff as all the color in his body turned grey and crumbled.
"Uncle? Uncle! Are you okay!?"
---
"I'm sorry, everyone, for making you come with after your long night."
The group finally arrived at Tecchin's house, which had turned to ruin, and watched Tecchin rummaging through the debris.
"Phew..."
He pulled out a chest that was knocked over from the ruins, and after fumbling around on his body for the key, he began to adjust the chest.
Click.
With a turning of the key, arms that looked like humans could be seen popping out of the box and moving around.
After careful searching,
Tecchin breathed a sigh of relief and wiped the sweat from his forehead.
After comforting Kotetsu for a while, Tecchin turned around and smiled a little embarrassedly. "I'm sorry for the delay."
He closed the box and struggled to make it stand up.
Squeak.
He reached out and pressed on the box, allowing the box to transform into a doll with six arms.
"Oh! He looks just like Uncle!"
Muichiro called out, pointing out the similar appearance the doll has with Tanjuro, blinking his eyes.
Tanjuro himself didn't react outwardly, which made Muichiro stammer in embarrassment.
"Six hands..." Yuichiro looked at the doll with disgust. He was particularly sensitive to the number "six."
'No...more importantly.'
'Why are we following these people?'
Yuichiro frowned and turned to look at his father.
"Interesting." Soichiro rubbed his chin as he moved closer to the doll, looking very interested. He smiled to himself.
Yuichiro, seeing that he didn't receive any support, twisted his face and pouted away.
"Hahaha, I was quite surprised when I first saw it."
Tecchin held the doll with one hand, and he smiled as he rubbed Kotetsu's head beside him.
"The paint on the face is damaged, but the overall structure of the doll is intact."
"It's a blessing in disguise." He said with a tone of relief.
The doll, as Muichiro pointed out, was like a replica of Tanjuro's appearance. Complete with a red haori and black hakama. It has six arms and is wearing hanafuda earrings on its earlobes.
The doll also wears armor from the Warring States period overlapping his clothing.
The only damage that could be seen was the broken left half of its face, where cracks could be seen spreading across the face.
In each of its arms, six well-maintained katana were neatly gripped.
Everyone's eyes moved back and forth between the doll and Tanjuro.
At first glance, it looked like two Tanjuros were standing with them.
"This is the combat automaton that has been passed down in my family for generations."
Tecchin explained to his guests with a smug look.
"The model is a swordsman in the Warring States period."
"His name was Tsugikuni Yoriichi."
"So, my ancestor named this doll—"
"Yoriichi Zeroshiki." (Yoriichi Type Zero)