Especially now, with both Takeo and Muichiro being Hashira, any injury to either of them would be a significant loss for the Demon Slayer Corps.
"If we use real swords, even if it's a mutual agreement, we'll definitely be punished if we're found out."
"It's fine," Muichiro replied.
Takeo frowned. "This isn't just about whether it's 'fine' or not…"
"It's fine," Muichiro repeated, calmly and firmly.
"…"
Sensing Muichiro's determination, Takeo let out a quiet sigh. He looked over at him and, realizing the other had no intention of changing his mind, finally gave a small nod.
"All right."
Truthfully, Takeo also felt that sparring with wooden swords lacked impact.
The wooden blade felt too light, too brittle. One of the reasons Muichiro lost their last match was because the wooden sword couldn't withstand the intensity of their exchange.
Perhaps it was because of that loss that Muichiro wanted to fight with real swords..?
The two of them agreed on a time for their duel, and then the conversation shifted to other topics.
It was Takeo who spoke first.
He glanced at Muichiro, who still had his eyes closed, and said, "I didn't expect you to come to a place like this."
Muichiro didn't respond.
Takeo continued, "You've always been focused on efficiency. Doesn't this seem like a waste of time to you?"
"The hot springs here relieve fatigue. Soaking for a while allows for longer training afterward."
Muichiro offered a short, clear explanation.
Without Takeo's strong regenerative ability, most people would need additional help to maintain prolonged training—whether through medicine or anything else that could accelerate recovery.
Hot springs with special properties were one such method.
"I see." Takeo nodded, understanding now why Muichiro had come. He didn't say anything more.
Silence returned to the hot spring.
After a while, Muichiro stood up first. As he stepped out of the water, he looked back at Takeo and said:
"All right. Shall we head to the back mountain now?"
"Good."
Takeo didn't need as long a recovery time as Muichiro. He had only come to the hot spring to experience it, and now that he had, he didn't want to soak too long.
They say soaking for too long can cause dizziness, though Takeo wasn't sure if that was true. Regardless, he didn't want to risk feeling lightheaded before their upcoming battle.
Muichiro stood up first to change clothes, and Takeo followed shortly after.
After leaving the hot spring, the two returned to their respective rooms to change into their Demon Slayer Corps uniforms. Then, they asked the swordsmith for three spare Nichirin swords and made their way toward the back mountain.
Holding a real sword in his hand and feeling its weight, Takeo couldn't help but grow more serious.
Fighting with a real blade was nothing like sparring with a wooden sword.
Takeo hadn't thought much of it earlier, but now that the weapon was in his grasp, he felt a new kind of weight.
Perhaps it was worry… or something else.
He began to wonder if he might injure Muichiro—or worse, seriously harm him by accident.
After all, Muichiro wasn't a demon. He didn't possess Takeo's enhanced regenerative ability. Even with the aid of Breathing Techniques to boost recovery, it was still far inferior to Takeo's.
If he were to suffer a real injury, it could take a long time to heal.
And if he were struck in a vital spot… he might even lose his life.
With such worries in mind, Takeo and Muichiro stood facing each other. The two locked eyes, and after a moment of hesitation, Takeo spoke:
"Why don't we just forget it…"
"Why? Are you going to run away?" Muichiro replied.
"No, I just think using a real sword can really—"
"Oh? So you're afraid of losing to me?"
Muichiro tilted his head as he spoke.
The corner of Takeo's mouth twitched slightly.
Why does this scene feel so familiar?
Had he once said something similar himself?
Letting out a quiet sigh, Takeo firmly gripped the spare Nichirin sword with both hands. Without saying another word, he raised his blade and took a proper stance, facing Muichiro.
"All right, then. Come."
The moment he finished speaking, Muichiro's figure vanished into the mist.
Mist Breathing – First Form: Low Clouds, Distant Haze!
The sound of clashing blades rang endlessly.
Within the mist, flashes of steel flickered again and again. From a distance, it looked as if more than a dozen swords were slashing through the air at once, leaving behind a web of gleaming arcs.
Takeo's movements were slightly slower in the haze, while Muichiro's strikes grew increasingly fierce.
The other boy didn't seem concerned about whether Takeo would be injured. Every blow was executed without hesitation and aimed directly at Takeo's body.
In under a minute, Takeo's uniform was torn in multiple places.
Small wounds had already begun to appear on his skin—though they healed quickly. Seeing this, Muichiro pressed the attack even harder.
"Your regeneration is faster than before."
When they had fought in the past, Takeo's injuries would leave red, swollen marks that took several seconds to recover.
But now—
Even deeper cuts vanished within a single breath. His regeneration was almost on par with that of an ordinary demon.
Because of that, Muichiro showed no mercy.
In contrast, Takeo seemed somewhat hesitant.
After a long stretch of passive defense, Muichiro suddenly withdrew, creating distance between them. He narrowed his eyes and asked:
"Why aren't you fighting back?"
"…"
"Because you're worried about hurting me? Don't be. I'm not so weak that I'd be injured by you," Muichiro said softly to Takeo.
He wasn't wrong. Just as Takeo had grown stronger, so had Muichiro.
Muichiro hadn't slackened in his training over the past few days, and his current strength had already surpassed what it was during their match after the Hashira meeting.
He truly wasn't someone who could be hurt easily by Takeo.
But still—he was a companion.
Takeo remained silent. Muichiro, unsure of what he was thinking, tilted his head slightly in thought before continuing:
"Well, if you're not going to fight back, then you're perfect as my training dummy. You can keep being the stake."
Swoosh—!
The mist surged again, and Muichiro's figure vanished into it.
Muichiro was extremely fast. While he might not be the fastest in the entire Demon Slayer Corps, when his speed was combined with his ever-present mist, his movements became completely unreadable.
At first, Takeo assumed Muichiro was using the Seventh Form of Mist Breathing—the technique he created himself.
But then he noticed something was different.
Muichiro's figure… seemed even more elusive, almost unreal.
_________
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