After the rain, the sunlight felt gentle.
The breeze that brushed against her face carried a softness, warm and tender, as though the world itself had been washed clean.
Kanao Tsuyuri held the small flower tightly against her chest, cradling it as though it were the most precious thing in existence.
She had stood in the rain for a full day and night.
She had not eaten for just as long.
Her body should have been exhausted, empty, on the verge of collapse—
and yet, she felt as though she were brimming with strength.
Clutching the flower with both hands, the girl hurried toward the cave.
Thud...
Her weakened body betrayed her.
She stumbled, falling hard onto the ground, her forehead striking a stone and splitting open slightly. Yet even as she fell, her hands did not reach out to break her fall. Instead, they remained tightly wrapped around the flower, protecting it as her small body rolled helplessly down the muddy slope.
The earth, softened by rain, clung to her clothes, staining them with dirt.
But Kanao only pressed her lips together, pushed herself back to her feet, and continued on—her steps unsteady, yet driven by a strange, light urgency.
When she reached the cave, the contrast was stark.
Outside, there was light.
Inside, only darkness—and the faint, feral growl of a demon.
Holding the flower close, she stepped inside and approached the figure bound in chains.
The demon lifted its head, crimson eyes locking onto her, filled with nothing but raw, bloodthirsty hunger.
Kanao's face was pale, almost translucent with exhaustion.
And yet, she smiled.
Slowly, she opened her hands, revealing the small, unassuming flower.
"Eat it," she said softly.
"Give me a bite of your flesh," the demon replied in a low voice, its gaze fixed greedily upon her, "and I'll eat it."
"Eat it."
Her voice did not waver.
She raised the Nichirin Sword.
"…Fine. I'll eat it."
There was no hesitation.
The demon took the flower—and swallowed it.
Kanao stood still, her pink-violet eyes fixed on him, watching as the flower disappeared from sight.
For a moment—
nothing changed.
His eyes remained crimson.
That same violent hunger still churned within them.
It was as though nothing at all had happened.
The color drained further from her already pale face.
Her small hands tightened around the sword hilt, gripping it so hard her fingers trembled. Her entire body shook, like a frightened animal cornered with nowhere left to run.
She kept watching.
Waiting.
But the familiar presence never returned.
At last, her strength seemed to give way.
She collapsed into a crouch, burying her head against her knees.
It felt as if the entire world had abandoned her.
"I'm back."
After an unknown amount of time, a very gentle voice suddenly came. Soft, yet it reached the ears of the girl crouched with her face buried in her knees.
Kanao's head snapped up.
Her dirt-streaked face turned toward the demon.
His eyes were still crimson.
The hunger had not disappeared.
And yet—
something else had returned.
That familiar calm.
That quiet presence she knew so well.
Her uncle.
Soma was back.
Almost instinctively, she leapt to her feet—but her weakened body nearly failed her again.
"Be careful," he said gently.
The moment those words reached her, her face lit up. Through the dirt and exhaustion, a radiant, unguarded smile bloomed as she rushed forward, throwing herself into his arms.
Soma tried to lift his hand, to stroke her small head as he always had—but the chains bound him tightly, allowing only the harsh clatter of iron as he moved.
"Uncle, let me untie you," Kanao said quickly.
She wiped at her tear-streaked face with the back of her hand.
Before, when he had not yet returned, she had not cried.
But now—
now that he was back—
all the fear, the anxiety, the loneliness she had held inside came crashing down at once.
She cried uncontrollably, even as her hands worked to undo the heavy chains.
It should have been a moment of joy.
And yet, she could not stop crying.
Soma watched her quietly, the small girl trembling as she struggled with the restraints, and spoke softly:
"Aren't you afraid I might be lying to you? What if I hadn't really come back?"
Kanao lifted her tearful face and looked at him.
"You're Uncle."
"You're that certain?" He looked at her.
"Yes," Kanao Tsuyuri said without hesitation, her voice steady despite the tears still clinging to it. "You're Uncle."
A faint, helpless smile tugged at his lips. "You really are a fool… not even trying to confirm it. What if—"
"There is no 'what if.'"
Kanao finished unfastening the chains, her small hands finally freeing him.
"I can… feel it."
Her certainty was absolute.
Unshakable.
For a moment, Soma said nothing. Then he reached out and gently drew her into his arms.
The girl's quiet sobs filled the darkness between them. In his embrace, she seemed so fragile—nothing like the resolute child who had endured everything alone.
And yet, he had seen it all.
During the time he had truly become a demon, his awareness had never vanished. He had witnessed every moment—how she lived, how she struggled, how she persevered.
His hand moved slowly, patting her shoulder in soft, steady rhythms. He offered no words of comfort.
There was no need.
Standing in the depths of the dark cave, he lifted his gaze toward the light beyond the entrance—the place where sunlight poured in, warm and distant.
Then, quietly, he closed his eyes and turned inward.
The hunger was still there.
That instinctive craving for human flesh, ingrained in every demon, had not disappeared—but it had weakened, diminished to the point where it could now be controlled.
The sunlight, too, still stirred a faint discomfort within him, a lingering aversion—but the overwhelming terror it once inspired had faded into something almost trivial.
More importantly—
something fundamental had changed.
That faint, invisible sense of being bound, of being watched and controlled, had vanished entirely. The connection to Muzan Kibutsuji—that oppressive, inescapable link—had been severed.
At the same time, he could feel it clearly:
a limitation had been lifted.
Before, as a demon who refused to consume human flesh, he had felt himself weakening day by day. Growth had been impossible without feeding, and even then, it was constrained. Many demons reached a ceiling they could never surpass—like those once among the Twelve Kizuki—and to break through, they needed more of Muzan's blood, binding themselves further to his will.
It was why most demons both feared and coveted him.
But now—
that restriction was gone.
Soma's consciousness drifted inward, and before him, as if reflected in the depths of his mind, his own existence unfolded:
Name: Soma
Race: Demon
Lifespan: Infinite
Abilities: Immortality (Complete), Rapid Regeneration, Enhanced Physique
Weaknesses: None
Status: Perfect
Blood Demon Art: Devour (Perfectly obtain the talent, abilities, and Blood Demon Arts of the devoured target)
Swordsmanship: Hiten Mitsurugi-ryū
-Physique: 3.1 (A normal adult human = 1)
-Agility: 3.2 (A normal adult human = 1)
-Strength: 3.1 (A normal adult human = 1)
-Mental Strength: 5.5 (A normal adult human = 1)
The changes were undeniable.
What had once been labeled as "pseudo-immortality" had now become complete—whether it was truly absolute could only be proven through death itself, a test he had no intention of undertaking.
More striking still, the weaknesses that had defined all demons—fear of sunlight, vulnerability to Nichirin Swords, the toxicity of wisteria—had vanished entirely.
Even his condition had transformed.
Where once it had read Hunger and Curse—the latter a mark of Muzan's control—there was now only a single word: None
His Blood Demon Art had also evolved, gaining a new aspect—Devour—a power that hinted at limitless growth.
And then there was his mind.
His Mental Strenght had surged to a level far beyond that of an ordinary human, while his Physique, Agility, and Strength remained largely unchanged.
As these realizations settled within him, a quiet smile appeared on his face.
Holding Kanao in his arms, he stood in the cave's darkness and looked once more toward the sunlight outside.
For demons, sunlight was the ultimate terror—an absolute death from which there was no escape. Not even Muzan Kibutsuji himself could withstand it.
And yet—
as Soma gazed upon that warm, radiant light, what he felt was not fear.
Only a faint, almost trivial distaste—
like a creature long accustomed to darkness, simply unaccustomed to stepping into the day.
Gently loosening his embrace, Soma stepped forward, moving toward the mouth of the cave.
"Uncle…"
Unable to hold herself back, Kanao called out, her soft voice trembling with unease. Her pink-violet eyes were filled with worry—after all this time at his side, she knew better than anyone how deeply he feared the sun.
Soma turned, meeting her gaze, and offered a quiet, reassuring smile before facing forward once more and continuing on.
His foot crossed the threshold.
It stepped into the sunlight.
For a fleeting moment, there was discomfort—a faint, unfamiliar irritation against his skin—but nothing more. There was no searing pain, no dissolution of flesh as there had always been before, no sense of destruction or harm. Only a mild unease lingered, like a creature of the night reluctantly standing beneath a brightness it had never belonged to.
He paused, lowering his gaze to examine his foot where it rested in the light. After confirming, beyond doubt, that nothing was happening, he took another step… and then another, until he had fully left the cave's darkness behind.
Warm sunlight fell across him.
What had once been an unattainable miracle for a demon was now his reality.
He stood there, a demon… bathing beneath the sun.
A miracle that even the progenitor of demons, Kibutsuji Muzan, had sought for a thousand years and never attained.
Behind him, Kanao stood frozen in the cave's shadow, her mouth slightly open in disbelief as she watched him step fully into the light.
"Uncle…"
In the next instant, her astonishment burst into joy. She rushed forward, her mud-stained figure darting into the sunlight as she circled around him, unable to contain her excitement. What was already a moment of overwhelming happiness seemed to grow even brighter simply because it was shared.
Soma smiled, bending down to lift her into his arms before tossing her high into the air.
"Ah—ah—!"
Her startled cries rang out, laced with pure delight, scattering the nearby birds into flight.
After a while, he caught her again, holding her securely. Looking at her pale face—still marked with exhaustion yet glowing with exhilaration—he gently brushed away the dirt and grime from her cheeks.
Kanao reached up, catching his hand and pressing it firmly against her face, as if afraid it might vanish.
"Uncle's hand… it's warm now."
She gazed up at him, her voice soft, almost reverent.
"Is it?" he replied with a faint chuckle, lightly tapping her head. "Wait here a moment."
He turned and stepped back into the cave. When he emerged again, a small flask was in his hand.
"Pour your uncle a cup." he said.
Though he could have done it himself, he left the task to her.
Kanao's eyes lit up, and she hurried to comply, carefully pouring the drink for him with quiet enthusiasm.
Soma accepted the cup and downed it in one breath. The liquor burned its way down his throat, fiery and sharp, as though igniting something deep within him. The sensation—so vividly human—left him momentarily dazed.
It had been a long time since he had felt something like this.
Kanao watched him with shining eyes, her brows curving into soft crescents of happiness. Compared to him, she seemed even more overjoyed, as though his return to the light meant everything.
"Good sake," Soma exhaled. He picked Kanao up and, bathing in the sunlight, began to walk toward the horizon.
...
In a dark corner where the sun could not reach, Muzan Kibutsuji suddenly snapped his eyes open. Those plum-red eyes were now filled with pure, unadulterated rage.
A demon.
Suddenly.
Silently, had slipped from his control.
This had almost never happened before.
The only time one had escaped his control was centuries ago, when he had been struck by that terrifying blow from Yoriichi Tsugikuni, leaving him at his weakest, allowing that wretched woman Tamayo to take advantage and break free.
But now, his strength had long since returned to its peak. His control over demons created from his blood was absolute. No demon could escape his grasp—not even Kokushibo, the Upper Rank One of the Twelve Kizuki.
Yet now,
a demon had inexplicably vanished from his control.
This had never happened before.
This feeling of something beyond his control sent a profound, overwhelming sense of crisis surging through him.
...
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