Several days had passed since the night Inosuke sank into deep thought.
The trio's paid vacation was coming to an end.
Eternal Paradise Cult — Back Courtyard
The moment moonlight spilled down, screams followed.
Akaza truly kept his word.
Every single night, without exception, he personally put the three boys through hellish special training.
Bang!
Zenitsu was kicked away like a rubber ball and ended up hanging from a tree branch.
"I can't do this anymore! I really can't! My lungs are about to explode!
I didn't come to Inosuke's house to get beaten up!"
"Shut up, trash."
At the center of the training ground, Akaza stood bare-chested.
The Compass Needle beneath his feet rotated slowly, his eyes devoid of mercy.
"Get up.
On a battlefield, no one gives you time to complain."
"Take this! Basketball Uncle!"
A roar came from above.
Inosuke leapt down, twin wooden practice swords in hand, chopping down with fierce wind pressure.
The strike precisely targeted a blind spot in Akaza's defense.
"Oh?"
A flash of approval crossed Akaza's eyes.
After days of special training, this kid's improvement was downright inhuman.
That bizarre intuition, paired with his inexplicable physique—
His growth was terrifyingly fast.
Bang!
Akaza didn't dodge.
He simply raised his wrist, deflecting with skill, then pushed back with a counterforce.
Inosuke was knocked several steps back—but unlike before, he didn't fall awkwardly.
Instead, he adjusted midair like a cat, landed steadily, and instantly assumed a counterattack stance.
"Not bad."
Akaza nodded, a rare gesture.
"Your reaction speed is barely passable.
Train another ten years and you might brush my clothes."
"Don't look down on me!"
Inosuke ground his teeth.
"Again!"
On the other side, Tanjiro lacked Inosuke's talent and Zenitsu's speed.
But he was like a stubborn stone.
No matter how many times he was knocked down, he climbed back up immediately, gripping his wooden sword—
His eyes so resolute they were almost frightening.
"Akaza-san! Please teach me again!"
Watching the three boys—battered yet brimming with fighting spirit—
Watching them apply medicine to each other during breaks, mock one another, yet always support one another—
Akaza's heart, long immersed in slaughter and emptiness, trembled once more.
For a moment, the scenery shifted.
This was no longer the courtyard of the Paradise Cult.
It became an old dojo, heavy with the smell of sweat.
A smiling old man was gently patting his head.
And nearby stood a frail girl, her smile as pure as a lily, holding a towel at the edge of the training floor.
"Mr. Hakuji, you're really strong."
That name… appeared again.
That name buried beneath centuries of time.
Hakuji.
Akaza slowly closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
The killing intent that constantly coiled around him softened—just a little.
"Hey, Basketball Uncle, why aren't you moving? Did you freeze?"
Inosuke waved his wooden sword in front of Akaza's face.
Akaza opened his eyes and looked at the arrogant boy before him.
He didn't get angry.
Instead, he reached out and—awkwardly—
Ruffled Inosuke's hair.
"W-What are you doing?!"
Inosuke's hair stood on end in shock.
"Are you trying to twist my head off?!"
"No interest in that."
Akaza withdrew his hand.
At the corner of his lips appeared an extremely faint smile—one without ridicule.
"Your talent is good. Don't waste it…
…nephew."
Dead silence.
Zenitsu, hiding in the tree, was so shocked he fell straight down.
"My god! Upper Rank Three called someone family again!
And this time it was so sincere! Is the world ending?!"
Inosuke froze too.
His cheeks inexplicably felt a little warm.
"Tch… who's your nephew?
By seniority, I'm your young master!"
Even as he said that, his grip on the wooden sword tightened slightly, his heart feeling strangely…
Inner Hall
"Ah! Nezuko-chan looks great in pink!"
"No way! Red suits her better! Makes her skin look brighter!"
Kotoha and Daki were in the middle of an intense discussion.
Nezuko, meanwhile, was like a well-behaved doll—
Letting the two women fuss over her, bamboo muzzle in her mouth, making happy mm-mm sounds.
"Lady Kotoha, I've decided!"
Daki hugged Nezuko and declared seriously,
"I'm taking her as my little sister!
Anyone who bullies her, I'll have my brother cut them down!"
Gyutaro, squatting in the corner peeling apples, nodded silently.
"As long as Mei's happy… I'll cut anyone…"
"That won't do," Kotoha said with a smile, gently patting Nezuko's head.
"Nezuko is Tanjiro-kun's little sister.
If you take her away, Tanjiro-kun will cry."
"Then we'll just take that charcoal-selling kid too and make him a laborer!"
Daki said righteously.
Amid this warm, lively scene—
"Waaah… this is so unfair…"
A deeply aggrieved voice came from behind the screen.
Doma floated out, handkerchief in hand, fake-crying.
"Kotoha-chan… clearly I'm your husband, clearly I'm the pillar of this household.
"Yet you braid that little girl's hair, make clothes for that ugly Gyutaro, cook for Inosuke…
"And you don't even spare me a glance?"
He squeezed in next to Kotoha, resting his head on her shoulder, rainbow eyes full of grievance.
"I want my hair done too! I want new clothes too! I want hugs too!"
Kotoha sighed helplessly and patted his head like a child.
"Cult Leader-sama, your hair is very long—it takes time to braid.
And… didn't you say you dislike restrictive clothing?"
"I like it now!"
Doma said confidently.
"As long as Kotoha-chan makes it, I'll wear it—even if it's a burlap sack!"
Then he turned to Daki and Gyutaro, his gaze instantly cold and oppressive.
"And you two—this is my house.
Kotoha-chan is mine. Don't think just because Inosuke brought you back that you can steal my wife.
"Take up any more of Kotoha-chan's time and I'll throw you into the back mountain."
Daki shuddered and immediately let go of Kotoha's arm.
"Th-then… I'll go check if my brother's done peeling apples!"
Watching this, Nezuko tilted her head.
She seemed to find this rainbow-eyed uncle interesting and reached out to grab Doma's golden fan.
"Mm?"
Doma froze, staring at the fearless little demon.
But the instant that soft little hand touched him, that strange, warm sensation surged up again.
"…Ah."
The fake smile vanished from Doma's face, replaced by something akin to a doting father's kindness.
"Looks like this little one likes me too.
Such good taste."
Happy times were always short.
Inosuke's paid vacation was nearly over.
At the front gate of the Eternal Paradise Cult, Inosuke waved vigorously.
"Go back already! Stop seeing us off! It's awkward!
Wenyi will get tired!"
Zenitsu stood at the gate, carrying a bundle twice as large as when he arrived.
He was exhausted. He really wanted to go back to the Demon Slayer Corps and rest.
"Inosuke! You have to write often!"
Kotoha's eyes brimmed with tears.
"Little brother! Remember to bully that yellow-haired guy extra hard!
Don't embarrass the Paradise Cult!"
Daki waved her handkerchief.
"…Be careful on the road."
Akaza stood with arms crossed, head turned away—though his ears were perked.
"Stay… safe.
I'll wait for you to come back… junior brother."
Kaigaku also stood among the crowd, awkwardly waving.
Doma fanned himself and smiled.
"Little Inosuke, if you get tired of playing outside, come home.
"Daddy will always be your strongest support.
"And if you run into someone you can't beat… remember to say my name.
It might not help, but it'll scare them a little."
"So noisy, old geezer!"
Inosuke rolled his eyes, but the moment he turned away, his eyes were faintly red.
"Let's go! Wenyi! Gonpachiro!
How long are you going to keep your young master waiting?!"
"Coming, coming!"
The three boys, packs on their backs, set off toward the sunrise.
At the same time—
Hundreds of miles away, in a remote village.
No trace of life remained.
The air was thick with blood.
Severed limbs littered the ground.
A monster covered in black bone armor, its right hand transformed into a massive bone blade, sat atop a pile of corpses.
Crack… crunch…
It was eating.
Not only humans—but also a lower-ranked demon clutched in its hand.
"Not enough… still not enough…"
Sasaki growled through a mouthful of flesh.
Ever since receiving Muzan's blood, his thirst for power had become a bottomless hunger.
Muzan told him that the more he devoured, the stronger he would become.
He had even tacitly allowed Sasaki to consume his own kind—
A privilege reserved for only the most favored demons.
"ROAR!!"
As Sasaki swallowed the last chunk of flesh, his bones erupted with explosive cracks.
Blood-red patterns began creeping across his once jet-black bone armor.
His aura swelled at an astonishing rate.
He lifted his head.
In his single crimson eye was reflected the image of that boy—
The hatred carved into his soul.
"Hashibira… Inosuke…"
Sasaki stood up. The ground beneath his feet shattered.
"Wait for me… I can already… smell you…"
"This time…
I'll carve your flesh off, slice by slice…"
Dragging the massive bone blade behind him, he vanished into the darkness.
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