Everything...
Was just like the old days.
It was like those peaceful times at the dojo; a boy named Hakuji was carrying a girl named Koyuki on his back as they made their way home.
The first rays of dawn pierced the darkness, spilling over Hakuji. The light felt sharp against his skin.
At first, he only felt that today's sunlight was incredibly stinging, incredibly irritating.
Then...
He felt the weight of the girl on his back, clear as his own memories. The gentle curve of her frame through her clothing pressed against him with every step he took, the sensation transmitting clearly to his skin.
Hakuji's steps faltered for a moment.
As if realizing something, he slowly lifted his head, looking toward the sunlight that pierced through the darkness and shone directly upon him.
He saw his body beginning to fade, little by little, and an instinctive unease rose from the depths of his heart.
The fear spreading through his body made him stiffly turn his head back. He saw the girl's black hair draping over his shoulder, saw her pale arms wrapped gently around his neck. The muscles he had tempered year after year, hard as stone, formed a stark contrast to her softness.
That softness clung to him gently, tenderly, wrapping around his hardened skin like a single drop falling into a long-still lake, sending ripples that could never again be calmed.
Koyuki rested quietly against his back. The steady rhythm of Hakuji's steps gave her a deep sense of peace. But when his pace suddenly grew uneven, and she became aware of the subtle closeness between them—her chest lightly pressing against his broad back—her cheeks instantly flushed with heat.
She seemed to understand something.
Shyness nearly made her want to pull away at once, yet she couldn't bear to leave the warmth of his back, nor did she want to give up this closeness with the gentle Hakuji.
So instead, she pressed her burning cheek against his shoulder. As long as she hid her face there, she could pretend she knew nothing at all.
At some point, the stinging pain of the sunlight disappeared.
Now, all Hakuji could feel was the soft brush of her hair against his neck, and the warmth of her cheek.
His arms held her legs firmly, steadily, as though he had returned to those days—back to the time when the desire to protect her for a lifetime still existed.
He lifted his golden eyes.
The mark of "Upper Three" within them slowly faded away.
Under the sunlight, everything was dissolving. Yet Akaza felt that his heart was no longer lost, no longer drifting weightlessly in confusion.
The girl on his back, heavy with warmth, wrapped around him.
So warm.
He stepped forward quietly, his pace steady, carrying her in silence as he walked on.
The girl on his back seemed to sense something. Her arms tightened gently around his neck as she leaned her head softly against his cheek.
…
A breeze drifted by.
A foul, rotting stench spread through the air.
The swordsmen stood beneath the sunlight, staring in disbelief at the terrifying Upper Rank Three. He simply stood there, smiling faintly, his body gradually dissolving under the sun.
No one had ever imagined such a thing could happen.
A demon of such overwhelming power—
dying so easily like this.
A demon who should have feared the sunlight above all else now stood bathed in its warmth.
This was something no one had ever seen before.
Something no one had ever experienced.
"Serves him right!" One of the swordsmen clapped his hands.
"At last, that wicked demon is dead."
Another swordsman let out a long breath. He had already prepared himself to die in this battle to eliminate Upper Rank Three. Now that the demon had perished so easily, he felt nothing but relief.
"Is this… the first Upper Rank demon to die in hundreds of years?"
The Sound Hashira, Tengen Uzui, lifted his head and looked at where Akaza had already completely vanished, a bitter smile tugging at his lips. "The first Upper Rank demon to die… wasn't killed in battle, but burned away by the sun."
"It won't be long before I personally hunt down an Upper Rank demon."
The Wind Hashira, Sanemi Shinazugawa, raised his head, his eyes blazing with intense hatred.
…
Although everyone was shocked—finding it almost unbelievable that Upper Rank Three, Akaza, had stood willingly beneath the sunlight—they still thought only one thing:
That the demon had gotten what he deserved.
No one pitied a demon.
And no one cared what that demon might have gone through in the past.
After all, as Upper Rank Three, the things Akaza had done could never be forgiven, nor would they ever be.
Only Sakonji Urokodaki remained standing in place, quietly sensing something in the air—a gentle presence.
It was different from the demons he had slain over the years. Every demon he had cut down had left behind a sorrowful trace in the air, a lingering grief that surfaced when they recalled their human memories in their final moments. That kind of remembrance brought nothing but pain.
But with Akaza… it was different.
When Akaza remembered his past as a human, there was no scent of suffering in the air.
Instead, there was something gentle.
Something peaceful.
It even felt… happy.
Even as he was burned alive by the sunlight, his heart remained filled with warmth—almost as though he had found happiness.
"If Akaza had been willing to join the Demon Slayer Corps…"
A quiet sigh escaped Urokodaki, his eyes filled with regret.
"Urokodaki-senpai, what are you saying?"
Sanemi Shinazugawa stood right in front of him, having heard those words, his tone immediately turning harsh.
"If I heard correctly, you're suggesting that a demon could join the Demon Slayer Corps?"
"Yes," Urokodaki replied, lifting his head to meet Sanemi's gaze. "Perhaps… some demons are different. Maybe—"
"Senpai," Sanemi cut him off coldly, his voice sharp with conviction. "Demons are cruel. There are no exceptions, and there never will be. No demon can overcome the urge to devour human flesh."
"Even the Akaza you speak of… he has consumed countless people and slaughtered who knows how many swordsmen of the Corps. If I remember correctly, the former Water Hashira died at his hands, didn't he?"
Urokodaki sighed again. Of course he understood what Sanemi meant, yet at this moment, a thought still lingered in his mind.
"But what if… there truly was a demon who could endure that hunger? If one had never consumed a human, perhaps… they could be given a chance."
"A demon that can resist the urge to eat human flesh?"
Sanemi let out a cold laugh, staring at Urokodaki.
If demons could truly overcome that instinct, then his own mother—who had fallen into becoming a demon—wouldn't have, right before his eyes, devoured his younger siblings one by one…
If demons could restrain that hunger, then what did it mean that he himself had been forced to cut off his own mother's head?
Sanemi Shinazugawa would never believe such a thing.
"If such a demon truly exists… then perhaps we could accept it," Urokodaki said firmly.
"Senpai, what's the point of talking about something that will never happen?"
Sanemi gave a cold smile as his hand lightly rested on the hilt of his Nichirin Blade.
"As long as I encounter a demon, I will use this sword to sever its head."
As he spoke, he lifted his gaze toward Urokodaki, his voice utterly indifferent—
"No demon will be an exception."