Chapter 21: The Trap is Sprung
The first night of the Final Selection was, for most, the most dangerous. It was the first time the vast majority of participants had ever truly faced a demon head-on, and the wisteria-laced slopes of Fujikasane Mountain quickly became a graveyard.
That night, many paid for their choices with their lives. A fortunate few were saved by Kanzaki Akira's timely intervention, though most of them, shaken to their core, chose to withdraw from the selection entirely. For the handful of stubborn souls who pressed on, Akira could only wish them the best of luck.
As a result, the number of humans on the mountain decreased significantly, and in turn, the frequency of encountering demons increased. On the second night, Akira slew three demons in quick succession before the first rays of dawn finally broke through the canopy.
On the third night, just after he casually dispatched a demon that had attempted to ambush him, his gaze shot toward the direction he knew Makomo was in. A sharp, predatory glint flashed in his eyes.
The trap for the Hand Demon had worked.
Seeing that bloated, hill-like figure—a grotesque mass of flesh wrapped in countless arms—Akira broke into a dead sprint.
By the time he arrived, Makomo and the Hand Demon were already locked in a desperate battle.
Relying on her extraordinary agility, Makomo flowed like water around the demon's clumsy, brutal attacks. She dodged with an ease that spoke of years of training, managing to weave in counterattacks of her own. At one point, she even closed the distance to its neck, her blade coming perilously close to ending the fight.
Facing such a troublesome, slippery opponent, the Hand Demon found itself unable to gain the upper hand in direct combat. Unwilling to relinquish any chance to exact revenge on Urokodaki Sakonji, it shifted its tactics to psychological warfare.
"Oh my, Urokodaki has sent me another little fox, has he? Hahahaha—"
"What do you mean?!" Makomo's fluid, dodging steps faltered for a critical second. An arm swiped through the space she had just occupied, missing her by a hair's breadth.
"You, and that fellow, Urokodaki Sakonji… isn't it strange?" the demon rasped, its voice a chorus of malice. "Not a single one of the disciples he sent here has ever made it out alive."
Seeing its words strike home, the Hand Demon pressed its advantage, its tone dripping with sadistic glee.
"It's because they were all eaten by me! Ahahaha—"
"Urokodaki Sakonji was the one who captured me, the one who threw me in this prison. I've suffered here for decades, all thanks to him! Then, two years ago, I found someone entering the mountain wearing the same fox mask as him."
"Those must have been his precious disciples, right?"
"So, to 'repay' him, I ate every single one of them! How about it? Are you angry? Do you want to kill me? Hahaha—"
"You—" A choked gasp escaped Makomo's lips. She was completely enraged. The fluid grace of her footwork shattered, replaced by a reckless, desperate charge. She stopped dodging cautiously, becoming more aggressive, risking being hit just for a chance to close in on the Hand Demon's neck.
The demon cooperatively slowed its offensive rhythm, a cruel intelligence in its eyes. It waited, letting her get closer, drawing her into its kill zone until it was certain of a fatal blow that would catch her completely off guard.
But in the next instant, a flash of incandescent lightning erupted from the shadows, vanishing as quickly as it appeared.
"Thunder Breathing, First Form: Thunderclap and Flash."
A sound like tearing silk filled the air. The Hand Demon's neck, wrapped in layers of protective arms, was severed in a single, clean strike. The arms that had guarded it for so long were sliced through as if they were nothing.
Stunned, Makomo didn't even notice the massive body beneath her feet begin to disintegrate into ash. The ground simply vanished from under her, and she found herself falling through empty air.
Just as she snapped out of her shock and began to twist her body to lessen the impact of the fall, a strong pair of arms caught her, pulling her securely against a firm chest.
"Are you alright?" A somewhat familiar voice reached her ears. Makomo turned her head and realized the person holding her was the boy whose offer to team up she had previously rejected.
'I didn't expect his strength to be this great…' she thought, looking at the handsome face that still held a hint of youthfulness. For a moment, she was completely dazed. It was only then that she became aware of their intimate posture. Snapping back to reality, Makomo immediately pulled away from Akira's embrace, a faint blush creeping up her neck, hidden by her mask.
"I'm fine."
Soon, the grief and indignation that had been suppressed by the sudden shock and embarrassment surged back into her heart. The girl's eyes grew moist, and when she thanked Akira, her voice was already choked with sobs.
"Thank you…"
"You're welcome."
An uncomfortable silence settled between them, thick with unspoken grief. Makomo was immersed in sorrow, and Akira found that he didn't know what to say. He simply remained by her side, his senses sharp, standing guard for the grieving girl.
"That commotion just now was loud," he said finally, breaking the silence. "More demons will likely be drawn here. Let's leave first."
Akira called out to her, and once he was sure she had heard him, he turned to leave. Without a word, Makomo followed close behind.
Soon, Akira brought her to the thick tree trunk where he had rested before, a place high above the forest floor.
"Alright, no demons should come here for the time being."
He turned around, looking at the girl who had remained utterly silent, and found himself at a loss for words again. After some thought, he could only offer a simple piece of advice. "If you want to cry, you'll probably feel better if you let it all out."
He could see that her eyes, hidden behind the fox mask, were already brimming with tears, yet this strong-willed girl stubbornly refused to let them fall.
To his surprise, after he spoke, the tears didn't fall; instead, they seemed to recede.
After a moment, she sat down on a branch of her own accord and spoke, her voice soft but clear. "My name is Makomo. Urokodaki Makomo."
"When I was very young, my parents were killed by demons. Master Urokodaki arrived just in time and saved me."
"Later, Master sent me to a shelter filled with children who had been displaced by demons. I only found out later that the shelter was established by the family of the Demon Slayer Corps' master."
"A little over a year ago, I reached the age to choose a Cultivator. At that time, I chose Master Urokodaki without any hesitation."
"Since then, I have lived under Master Urokodaki's care and guidance." Her voice trembled slightly. "It wasn't just him; my senior disciples were also very kind to me."
"They were all very, very good people."
"However… five of my senior brothers, all with great talent, met Master Urokodaki's requirements two years ago. They came here to participate in the Final Selection. In the end, not a single one returned."
"I still remember the day the news arrived. Master Urokodaki hid in his room alone… he was heartbroken for a long, long time."
"After that, Master Urokodaki raised the difficulty of the trial. He said only by passing his new trial would one be allowed to participate in the Final Selection."
"But even with the increased requirements, four more senior brothers and sisters, all of them talented and having trained for nearly two years, still passed his trial last year."
"Master thought that since they had passed such a rigorous test, they would surely succeed." Her voice cracked. "But the result was the same. Not a single one of them came back."
"This time, Master raised the difficulty of the trial once again. It was so hard that my two remaining senior brothers gave up on becoming swordsmen and instead applied to join the Kakushi."
"Only I was unwilling to give up. I didn't want to see such a gentle person like Master looking so sad. In the end, I gritted my teeth and completed his extremely rigorous training, passed the trial he set, and came here."
"For the first two nights, I kept thinking… if the demons on this mountain were all just those weak ones, how could none of my senior brothers and sisters have survived?"
"Until I met that thing… If Master knew that the demon he captured and put on Fujikasane Mountain had taken the lives of his disciples, one by one… how much guilt and sorrow would he feel…?"
Akira listened to Makomo's story in silence. He knew she was an exceptionally strong girl. What she needed right now wasn't hollow words of comfort, but someone to listen. Whether it was having a good cry or confiding in a stranger, it was all just a way to vent the poison of grief.
"Thank you…" Having finished her story, Makomo seemed to have calmed down. She stood up and thanked Akira solemnly, but then realized with a jolt of embarrassment that she had forgotten to even ask for his name.
"Sorry, I don't know your name yet…" At that moment, Makomo was so mortified she felt like she could dig a hole with her toes.
"My name is Kanzaki Akira."
"Kanzaki Akira… Yes, thank you, Kanzaki-kun." Makomo's gratitude was twofold: not only for saving her life, but for killing the Hand Demon and avenging her deceased brothers and sisters.
Akira was somewhat surprised by her familiar way of addressing him.
"Hmm?"
"Is… is it not okay to call you that?" Makomo turned her face away, a shy gesture that was endearing even with the mask.
"That's not it." Since a young girl like her didn't mind, why would he have an issue? "Then can I just call you Makomo?"
"Of course," she replied, her voice brightening. "No problem."
With the bond of a life saved and a shared, painful secret, the relationship between Makomo and Akira suddenly became much closer.
Although neither of them mentioned teaming up for the remaining days, they began to move together as one.
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