Chapter 154: The Butterfly Mansion Assembles
Sweat dripped from Akira's chin, soaking into the dry earth beneath his boots. For an entire month, he had subjected himself to the grueling, intermittent hell that was Himejima Gyoumei's training regimen. The explosive gains of his early days were gone, replaced by a slow, agonizing grind. Yet, every microscopic improvement was a solid, tangible victory—far better than remaining trapped at the bottleneck of the Transparent World, where his strength had stagnated for so long.
However, after thirty days of relentless physical torment, those improvements had finally hit a solid brick wall.
He had progressed from nearly blacking out on the spot after a set of exercises to actually being able to walk to the sidelines under his own power. His muscles burned with a dull, familiar ache, and his lungs expanded smoothly as he regulated his breathing. Akira could feel it in his bones; this was the absolute ceiling of his mortal vessel.
If he wanted to force another breakthrough, he would likely need to awaken the Demon Slayer Mark.
Nearly four years of cultivating his Breathing Technique, combined with several previous instances of extreme, exhaustive conditioning, had pushed his physical fitness to its absolute overworld limit. Even so, this peak was only slightly stronger than Gyoumei's base strength back when the giant had first joined the Demon Slayer Corps.
According to Gyoumei's own assessment, if he had been forced to use Akira's current set of weighted training equipment during his rookie days, he might have only been able to collapse and gasp for air after finishing a single routine.
It was just hard to tell exactly how conservative the Stone Hashira was being with that estimate. Pure, unadulterated talent really was something that defied comparison.
Still, Akira flexed his hands, feeling the dense, coiled power beneath his skin. With his current physique, he was fairly confident he could beat an ordinary demon to a pulp for an entire night without even activating a Breathing Technique. In terms of raw base stats, he had to be roughly on par with the malnourished version of Gyoumei from a few years ago... right?
Pushing those random thoughts aside, Akira grabbed his towel, offered a brief farewell to the towering Hashira, and walked off to rest, leaving three young spectators completely dumbfounded in his wake.
Kamado Tanjirou and the Tokito twins stood frozen, staring at the empty space where Akira had just been. They had spent the past weeks watching his training sessions. They had watched him shove a massive boulder—easily two meters in diameter—back and forth across the clearing until the ground was carved into deep trenches. They had watched him sprint and leap over ravines while carrying three massive logs strapped to his back, each one thicker than their own bodies.
Even Yuichiro, who had harbored a mountain of complaints and bitter resentment toward Akira, could only swallow hard. A cold bead of sweat rolled down his temple.
He was incredibly thankful right now that Akira possessed a relatively even temper. Otherwise, judging by the sheer monstrous power on display, the older slayer could have easily crushed his skull with a single hand back when he had been giving him attitude.
Standing in the shadow of those terrifying feats, Yuichiro suddenly felt that doing a bit of physical conditioning wasn't such a big deal. Learning a Breathing Technique a little later was perfectly fine. There was absolutely no need to throw a tantrum at a monster who could launch him into the stratosphere with a flick of his wrist.
'I figured this out on my own,'Yuichiro muttered in his heart, his jaw tight.'It's not because I'm a coward. Absolutely not.'
Compared to Yuichiro's internal crisis, Tanjirou and Muichiro operated on a much simpler wavelength. Beyond their sheer awe and admiration for Akira, their eyes burned with the burning determination to push themselves even harder.
So much so that by the time Yuichiro shook off his lingering dread, the two relentless workaholics beside him had already thrown themselves back into their training drills, panting and sweating under the sun.
For a fleeting moment, Yuichiro watched them and genuinely wondered if he was the odd one out, and if Muichiro and Tanjirou were the actual blood brothers.
Akira paid no mind to the stunned reactions of the three youngsters. His thoughts had already drifted back home, because the Butterfly Mansion was currently welcoming a true trio of youngsters of its own.
The two retired doctors who had previously assisted the estate had passed away from old age not long ago. The three young children they had adopted followed the elders' final wishes and were safely relocated to the Butterfly Mansion.
Terauchi Kiyo, Nakahara Sumi, and Takada Naho.
The arrival of the three cute little girls immediately injected a fresh wave of innocent, ringing laughter into the sprawling estate. The late elders had spent their final years teaching the girls a great deal of nursing and medical knowledge. At their own earnest request, everyone at the mansion agreed to let them join the daily operations of the Medical Department.
Now, the three energetic little ones could often be seen rushing down the wooden corridors, their short legs moving in a blur as their little pigtails bounced behind them. They carried fresh bandages, medicine trays, and warm water, moving with surprising efficiency.
From time to time, they would skid to a halt to bow and greet the passing wounded and staff, offering bright, pure smiles that melted the hearts of everyone who saw them.
Although they were still very young, their serious, responsible work ethic and their surprisingly calm nature quickly won the absolute adoration of the entire Medical Department. In just a few short days, the trio had become the undisputed darlings of the wards. If any grumpy patient dared to utter a single harsh word about them, they would instantly find themselves on the receiving end of synchronized death glares from every other patient and staff member in the room.
The shift in dynamics was so deep that even within the inner household of the Butterfly Mansion, Kanao's long-standing status as the ultimate pampered favorite was suddenly under threat.
Akira, along with Kanae, Shinobu, and Makomo, naturally still favored Kanao. They had spent years raising her, pulling her out of her shell, and their bond was deeply ingrained.
However, Mr. and Mrs. Takemoto, Aoi, and Mitsuri immediately fell victim to the overwhelming charm of the three new arrivals.
During dinner, the shift was glaringly obvious. Mr. and Mrs. Takemoto would sit at the table, each happily holding one of the little girls in their laps, while the third was sandwiched between them, being fed choice cuts of meat and sweet vegetables.
Watching this display of blatant favoritism, Shinobu had actually leaned over and complained privately that neither she nor her older sister had ever been spoiled to that ridiculous extent when they were little.
Kochou Sawaki merely paused his chopsticks and shot his daughter a dry look. "Hold on. Kanae was absolutely spoiled like that when she was little."
Shinobu blinked, her brow twitching. "? Then what about me?"
"Someone," Sawaki replied, his tone perfectly flat, "was never still in mine or your mother's arms. You kicked and flailed so much you nearly flipped the dining table several times. But you were perfectly quiet and well-behaved when we let you eat by yourself. What exactly did you expect us to do?"
Shinobu's mouth opened, then closed. "Uh..."
Mr. and Mrs. Takemoto practically treated the three little ones as their own newly adopted daughters. After all, their two biological daughters had already grown up and been thoroughly snatched away by a certain silver-haired guy sitting across the dining table.
As for Aoi, she took charge of the trio's daily work arrangements, guiding them through the medical wards and treating them with the strict but deeply affectionate care of an older sister.
Mitsuri, meanwhile, was completely captivated by their cute appearances and sensible personalities. Looking at them, she saw the shadows of her own younger siblings back home, and she subconsciously went out of her way to coddle them.
It couldn't be helped. Kanao was simply too independent and quiet in her daily life, making it impossible for Mitsuri to experience the fulfilling rush of being a protective older sister. Even though Kanao politely called her "Big Sister Mitsuri," the Love Hashira always felt that, in terms of personality, she was actually the least mature person in the mansion—the one who constantly needed looking after.
Now, the addition of Kiyo, Sumi, and Naho finally allowed Mitsuri to reclaim her older sister persona.
Despite her reigning status being shaken, Kanao genuinely didn't care. She sat quietly beside Akira, happily leaning into his side. As long as he still stroked her hair and doted on her exactly as he always had, the rest of the world didn't matter.
Besides, the three little ones were nearly ten years younger than Akira. Kanao wasn't the least bit worried about them stealing his affections in that particular way. The man she loved might be a greedy, unapologetic playboy, but he certainly wasn't a beast.
Probably... right?
Catching her gaze, Akira paused mid-bite, reading the subtle shift in her lilac eyes. 'Do I really look like that kind of person?'
Leaning back and taking in the sight of the massive, chaotic, and incredibly warm family gathered around the Butterfly Mansion's dining room, Akira felt a deep, resonant sense of accomplishment. The lively chatter, the clinking of plates, the bright laughter—it was a sanctuary. The unique, comforting atmosphere of a true family settling down together made his chest tight with emotion.
But as he watched them smile, he realized he still couldn't bring himself to treat them as his support network, exactly as Gyoumei had suggested.
Or rather, some things simply backfired the harder you tried to force them.
The more Akira analyzed his relationship with everyone in the room, the more firmly he cemented himself into the role of their absolute protector. The more he loved them, the more he wanted them to be a family that supported one another in peace—and the more fiercely reluctant he became to ever let them step onto a battlefield again.
This protective obsession, after being dragged into the light by Gyoumei's advice, had only grown more severe.
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