"Boom"
As soon as Akaza's foot struck the massive wooden pillar, the sound of the wooden explosion echoed throughout the garden. It wasn't just a crack or a fracture… the entire pillar turned into a hollow mass, leaving a massive gap stretching from one end to the other.
Dust and debris scattered in the air. Even the ground around the pillar had shattered, carved into a deep half-circle indentation.
In the midst of this chaotic scene, Akaza stood still in his place, dust swirling around him and slowly settling on his shoulders and black cloak, while the wind played with his hair strands. He tilted his head slightly, his eyes observing the huge gap he had created, before a small, pure smile formed on his face—carrying not arrogance, but a deep satisfaction with his strength.
"I think this… is very good." Akaza murmured, his voice barely audible amidst the rustling of the dust still falling like slow ash from the sky.
He sighed, then turned back inside his residence. He walked through the wooden corridors, the distant sounds of the night fading behind him little by little.
He sat quietly at the edge of his bed.
Although he knew that with his demonic body, he did not need to sleep… a strange heaviness began to creep into his body—a feeling of real drowsiness. He raised his hand before his eyes, and even though he had obtained the sun's antidote, he never thought he would become like humans… his blood was now closer to human blood, and this feeling of drowsiness might be one of the symptoms of this transformation.
He lay down on the bed and closed his eyes slowly…
When he opened his eyes, the golden rays of the sun had already slipped through the windows, casting their warmth on the floor of the room. He sat up slowly, taking a deep breath, feeling the warmth of the morning.
"Ahhhh…" Akaza yawned tiredly before looking at the clear sky.
He stepped out of the residence with calm footsteps. The daytime breeze was gentle, the rustle of the pink trees accompanying his steps. He walked along the stone-paved paths until he began to see people's faces from afar.
The whispers reached his ears clearly despite their low voices:
"Did you hear there's a new Hashira?"
"What? Is what you're saying true?"
"Yes… he even managed to defeat Sanemi himself!"
"No way! Sanemi isn't easily defeated…"
"I saw him yesterday; his movements resemble those of the old warriors."
"Yeah, but… there's something strange in his eyes."
"Oh, look, here he comes!"
"Yes, yes… he's as handsome as the rumors say."
"Handsome or not, I don't trust him… but he doesn't seem that fierce."
Akaza didn't turn to look, but continued walking until his steps stopped before a small wooden cart, steam billowing above it, the scent of hot ramen broth reaching his nose.
He sat on one of the simple wooden seats and spoke in a low voice: "Ramen… please."
Although demons consider humans as prey, he didn't like that idea, so he decided to try eating normal food.
It didn't take long before the vendor placed in front of him a large bowl of golden broth, with boiled eggs floating on its surface, tender slices of meat, and strands of green onion. Akaza picked up the chopsticks and slowly tasted the first bite, his eyes watching the market's movement through the rising steam.
"Slurp"—as soon as Akaza tasted the food, he felt that the taste was like dirt, but he didn't care and continued eating.
He finished his meal quietly, thanked the vendor with a slight nod, then left, heading toward the village outskirts. As the noise faded, the market sounds grew quieter and quieter, replaced by the sounds of nature: the rustling of trees, birdsong, and his footsteps on the gravel.
He stood there, gazing at the water, until his attention was drawn to a shadow standing on the opposite bank. A familiar figure… its features hadn't completely faded from his memory, but they were like a hazy recollection, as if from another life.
Then, a small smile appeared on his face…
A tall man, broad-shouldered, his fiery hair shifting from golden yellow at the roots to blazing red at the tips. His wide eyes shone with a sharp determination, a mix of red and gold.
He wore the well-known Hashira uniform, but his white cloak was adorned with orange edges, flowing down with patterns of blazing flames. His right hand rested confidently on the hilt of his Nichirin sword.
Akaza couldn't help but be astonished by the figure before him.
This man embodied the very meaning of the word charisma.
The Flame Hashira, and the most mourned character by the audience—Rengoku.
Akaza smiled lightly and stepped toward the riverbank. The water between them was wide, and the current strong, but the distance was no obstacle.
He bent his knees calmly, took a deep breath, and then… jumped.
His body soared through the air with lightness and speed, his black cloak swaying behind him before he reached the opposite bank.
"Thud"—the stones made a sound as Akaza landed on them.
He stood upright, hi
s eyes locked on his, that calm smile still gracing his features…
Fire Hashira picture in the comments