Akaza raised his fists, eagerly waiting for Sakonji Urokodaki to attack. He paid no attention at all to the old man's dull words about how "demons are pitiful creatures."
But when the old man spoke the words—"Hakuji, do you still remember a girl named Koyuki?"—his entire being froze in that instant.
Perhaps the human he once was, Hakuji, had never mattered to Akaza. But the name Koyuki… that was something he could never forget.
She was the one he had sworn to protect.
And yet, in the end… he failed to protect her.
In that moment, the demon who had spent his entire life chasing strength, training without rest, let go of the opponent who had excited him so much. He simply stood there, motionless.
Even as the old man before him raised the Nichirin Sword meant to kill him.
Like flowing water, the blade sliced cleanly through Akaza's unguarded neck. His blood-soaked head fell to the ground, yet his eyes remained lost in a world of his own.
What appeared before him was not the opponent who stirred his fighting spirit—
—but another place entirely.
"Soryu Dojo."
The signboard stood quietly at the entrance, as if a long-sealed memory was finally opening. Grass swayed gently in the wind, carrying the faint scent of earth.
Akaza stared blankly at the sign.
His head suddenly throbbed with pain.
Without realizing it, he stepped forward.
And pushed the door open.
A young woman stood inside, looking at him with gentle eyes.
Akaza froze where he stood. He was a demon who had killed countless humans, a fearsome Upper Rank Three—yet he did not even have the courage to look away from her gaze.
He remained still as the girl walked toward him, softly taking his hand, then leading him inside.
The moment his foot crossed the threshold, a sharp pain surged through his head. Only then did he vaguely realize—his head had likely been severed by that powerful opponent.
No matter how strong a demon was, once their neck was cut by a Nichirin Sword, death was almost certain.
But for Akaza, who had already surpassed his limits, losing his head did not mean death. As long as his consciousness returned, he could continue fighting, easily crushing that human elder with his overwhelming strength.
Almost immediately, he tried to pull his hand free from the girl's grasp.
But he found that her small hand was growing warmer… and her grip firmer.
His head hurt. It hurt so much…
He was in the middle of battle. His head had been severed. He should wake up at once and return to the fight with the opponent who thrilled him.
But…
He simply could not bring himself to let go of her hand.
As Upper Rank Three, breaking free would have been effortless.
And yet, he could not refuse being led forward by her.
The pain in his head intensified, his thoughts growing more chaotic and restless.
As if sensing his turmoil, the girl stopped.
Akaza tilted his head, looking at her—and met a pair of eyes he could never forget.
Perhaps it was because they had been apart for so long. Perhaps it was the sorrow of a long-awaited reunion. Her beautiful eyes shimmered with mist, yet within them burned a deep, unwavering love.
In that instant, as he looked at her pale face, Akaza could no longer look away.
He simply followed her, letting her lead him forward.
As they walked further, everything around them faded away. The Koyuki holding his hand suddenly disappeared.
Akaza slowly raised his head.
Ahead lay a land surrounded by flames, like the gates of hell opening wide.
The girl who had held his gaze stood there, looking at him gently, and softly said:
"Welcome home, Hakuji-san."
...
Boom!
In that moment, the memories within his mind came crashing back.
Everything—
He remembered it all.
His true name… had never been Akaza.
It was Hakuji.
A pitiful human who only wanted to protect Koyuki.
A human who no longer had anything left to protect.
...
With a single effortless strike, Sakonji Urokodaki severed Akaza's head. He lowered his gaze, staring in disbelief at his blood-stained blade, then at Akaza's head rolling across the ground.
He had cut off the head of Upper Rank Three with almost no resistance.
It was so easy that Urokodaki could hardly believe it. He had already prepared himself to die in this battle.
But it had turned out nothing like he imagined.
However, what shocked him even more came next—
Even after having his neck severed by a Nichirin Blade, Akaza did not die.
Urokodaki found it impossible to accept.
For hundreds of years, there had never been a demon who survived after their neck was cut by a Nichirin Sword.
If it hadn't happened right before his eyes, he would never have believed it.
At that moment, Urokodaki took a careful breath—
From Akaza's body, he smelled something unfamiliar.
Another presence.
A different aura seemed to have descended upon Akaza through some strange connection.
Urokodaki tightened his grip on his sword.
Before him, Akaza's headless body stepped forward, walked to where his severed head lay, and picked it up.
Seeing this, Urokodaki's hand trembled slightly.
It wasn't fear of the Upper Rank Three.
He no longer cared about his own life.
What truly frightened him was this—
If even a Nichirin Sword could not kill such a demon, then how would the next generation face such despair?
How could the younger Demon Slayers deal with a monster that had overcome the weakness of having its neck severed?
For a moment, Urokodaki's thoughts fell into chaos.
Akaza rolled his neck, his faint plum-red eyes staring at Urokodaki, who stood close before him. He could also sense the mark hidden beneath the tengu mask.
But gradually, the plum-red in his eyes faded.
His pupils slowly turned gold.
"Those past memories are so painful… why cling to them so stubbornly?"
"Fight. Keep fighting. Only by continuing to fight can you grow stronger. Isn't that what you've always sought?"
A soft voice echoed deep within Akaza's mind, trying to suppress the memories he had just regained.
But this time—
No matter how much that voice tried to push them down, it could not.
"I was never… Akaza."
Akaza raised his fist, quietly staring at his own hands.
"I was never Akaza. My name is Hakuji… Hakuji, the one who wanted to protect Koyuki."
As those quiet words fell, the distant restraint binding him seemed to shatter completely in that instant.
And at that very moment—
Far away, in a place deep within darkness, Kibutsuji Muzan lifted his plum-red eyes.
His connection to Akaza was completely severed.
For the first time in hundreds of years, he had lost control over one of his subordinates.
The last time this had happened was when Yoriichi Tsugikuni struck him down, pushing him to the brink of death—when Tamayo, who had been by his side, broke free from his control.
And now—
An Upper Rank demon, one he had personally nurtured with his own blood, had forcibly broken free.
...
The underground cavern fell silent. The torches still burned.
Akaza opened his golden eyes and quietly looked at the old man before him.
Beneath the tengu mask, Urokodaki gripped his Nichirin Sword tightly.
"Hundreds of years…"
Akaza spoke calmly as he looked at him.
"For hundreds of years, I have carried out meaningless slaughter."
"I have defiled my teacher's techniques."
"And I have betrayed the final words my father left behind."
Urokodaki's grip on his sword loosened slightly.
He suddenly recalled what Soma had told him before he left Mount Sagiri—everything about Akaza.
"If it is possible, you should try to convince Akaza to fight against Muzan."
At the time, those words had seemed absurd.
But now—
Urokodaki lowered his head, looking at the blade in his hand, at the blood still dripping from its tip.
Just by speaking the name "Koyuki," he had caused this Upper Rank Three—who had been brimming with fighting spirit—to lose all will to fight, allowing his head to be severed so easily.
Perhaps…
This wasn't so absurd after all.
Perhaps…
Akaza truly could be persuaded to oppose Kibutsuji Muzan.
But as Urokodaki looked at the Upper Rank Three before him once more, he could sense an overwhelming, terrifying aura—
And yet, at the same time…
There was no sense of life within him.
Like a great tree slowly withering away.
...
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