At some point, unnoticed and unannounced, the bitter cold of winter receded.
A fine drizzle began to fall upon the earth, soft and persistent, as tender shoots pushed through the soil, revealing fresh hints of green. Spring had arrived, carried on a breeze far gentler than the harsh winds of winter—warmer, quieter, almost forgiving.
Inside the mountain cave, however, little had changed.
Akaza continued his relentless training, tireless and unceasing, as though the passage of days—sunrise and sunset alike—meant nothing more than another opportunity to grow stronger. In his world, every moment existed for that singular purpose.
One could feel it plainly: the coiled strength within every muscle, the surging force carried in every pulse of blood through his body.
During this time, Soma had once attempted to learn from him. Yet in the end, he had stopped. For him, merely suppressing the gnawing hunger—the primal thirst for human flesh—was already a struggle that consumed nearly all his will. There was no room left for anything else.
Drawing back his fist, still faintly imbued with fighting spirit, Akaza stepped forward and approached him, his gaze settling on the figure who sat in silence, once again tracing his fingers along the hilt of his Nichirin Sword.
This time, there was no trace of the earlier disdain in Akaza's eyes. What replaced it was something far more complicated.
In these past months, the demon he had once dismissed as utterly weak had done little beyond caring for the girl—preparing food for her, tending to her needs—and then returning to his place, where he would sit in silence, again and again, polishing that same blade.
At first, Akaza had found the behavior strange.
But gradually, he began to understand.
The man was enduring it—the relentless hunger that all demons carried for human flesh.
No one understood that craving better than a demon. Even Akaza himself, despite his disdain for devouring flesh, could not fully escape it in the end.
Yet this frail, almost insignificant demon had remained seated here for months, resisting it with nothing but sheer willpower, refusing to feed.
"You're impressive," Akaza said at last, his voice carrying a rare note of sincerity. "Truly strong."
For the first time, he acknowledged a demon not for power, but for something far rarer—his will.
And yet, in Akaza's eyes, it was all ultimately futile.
"You won't be able to endure it forever. You're already nearing your limit."
His voice lowered slightly. "No demon escapes this hunger. No matter how unwilling they are."
Soma lifted his head, his eyes burning with a deep, blood-red glow as they met Akaza's gaze.
"Go hunt," Akaza said quietly, glancing toward the sleeping figure of Kanao Tsuyuri nearby. "If you don't, you'll lose control sooner or later. And when that happens, you'll end up devouring the girl beside you."
Over these months, the girl had been training under his observation. Her progress had been astonishing—so much so that even Akaza had begun to take notice. If she continued on this path for a few more years, she might very well reach the level of the elite swordsmen known as the Hashira, and perhaps even become a threat to him one day.
Like Soma, she possessed an unnerving, unyielding will.
"I will not hunt," Soma replied, lowering his gaze once more as his fingers continued to trace the edge of his blade. By now, even the sun-forged power within the Nichirin Sword could no longer fully suppress the hunger gnawing at him from within.
"Heh..." A faint chuckle escaped Akaza.
He looked at this naïve demon and slowly shook his head.
"Well then… I hope that the next time we meet, you'll still be able to say that."
He paused, his tone turning faintly sharper.
"And when that time comes, I'd also hope you're no longer as weak as you are now."
With that, Akaza turned and left, his figure disappearing into the mouth of the cave. He had lingered here long enough; it was time to seek out new opponents, new battles, new measures of his ever-growing strength.
Yet as he stepped out, he paused and glanced back once more at the frail demon still seated in silence, endlessly polishing his Nichirin Sword.
What was he still holding onto?
In some ways, it was not so different from himself—each day spent chasing something intangible, something just out of reach.
Strength.
But once one became strong…
…what then?
...
After Akaza's departure, Soma remained seated in silence. From time to time, his gaze would drift toward the sleeping figure of Kanao Tsuyuri nearby.
The girl was exhausted.
Over the past months, she had trained every day alongside Akaza, always striving to match his relentless endurance, hoping she too could push herself without limit. But human bodies could never compare to demons. No matter how determined she was, the outcome was always the same—inevitable exhaustion.
Even so, her strength had undeniably been improving with each passing day.
It was still difficult to measure exactly how far she had come, but there was one clear benchmark: she could now withstand several exchanges against Akaza himself.
Soma glanced at her sleeping form, then quietly rose and began preparing food by the fire.
By the time Kanao opened her eyes and stretched her light, graceful arms, the comforting aroma of a freshly cooked meal had already filled the cave.
"Where did that annoying demon go, Uncle?" she asked as she sat up, noticing Akaza was no longer there.
"He left earlier," Soma replied, ladling porridge from a small pot into a bowl.
"Oh, he's gone already…" She puffed her cheeks slightly. "I was thinking I'd beat his head in someday."
Soma tapped her lightly on the head without looking up. "You can barely survive a few exchanges with him, and you're already talking about beating him? More like he'd be the one knocking your head off."
"Eheh…" the girl laughed sheepishly. "I didn't mean right now…"
Soma pretended not to hear her.
Kanao obediently took the bowl and began eating in small, careful bites.
After finishing her meal, she picked up her wooden sword, clearly intending to resume training.
"We're leaving soon," Soma said softly. "Don't train anymore."
There had been too many disturbances in the area—several members of the Demon Slayer Corps had died nearby, drawing attention and investigation. Yet every one of them had met the same end, their necks crushed by Akaza without exception.
While Akaza had been here, there had been no need to worry. Even among the Hashira, few could confidently stand against him.
But now…
"Pack whatever you need," Soma added. "We'll leave once you're ready."
"Okay."
Kanao nodded, gathering her spare clothes into a small bundle.
"All done, Uncle."
She patted the bag lightly, her expression carrying a trace of excitement. After all, they had been confined to this cave for months.
Soma gave the cave one last glance before picking up a stray hood and placing it gently over her head. Then, stepping in front of her, he bent down slightly.
Kanao shook her head and moved closer instead, her slight frame leaning against him. "Uncle, don't carry me. I want to walk with you."
Soma looked at her for a moment, then nodded.
Smiling faintly, the girl reached out and took his large hand in hers, while her other hand held her wooden sword.
Hand in hand, demon and girl stepped out of the cave together.
Outside, darkness had already swallowed the world—but neither the demon nor the girl who had grown accustomed to the night was troubled by it.
"Let's go," Soma said, glancing at her slightly uplifted face.
"Mm," she nodded.
She looked down at their joined hands, then up again at the vast darkness ahead.
All this time, it had always been her uncle walking alone through the night, while she could only rely on him, carried upon his back.
But now—
she would no longer allow him to walk through the darkness alone.
...
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