Takeshi walked through the lush foliage of the mountain, the beautiful pink and purple wisteria engulfing the view beneath the serene dawn around him.
His body was fully exposed to the cold, having begrudgingly given up his haori as a distraction for his final blow against that vile demon.
The only protection from the frozen elements were his now battered black hakama pants and the black obi that held his sword.
After some time complaining to himself, he finally arrived at the memorial shrine—he had done it.
He had finally become a Demon Slayer.
But before he could fully comprehend his achievement, a pristinely beautiful girl interrupted his thoughts.
"Are you a demon, by chance?" the short girl asked, her face slightly tilted as she stood uncomfortably close to Takeshi, who towered over her.
Takeshi stared at the girl with a mix of disgust and confusion as he slowly backed away, the question leaving him utterly speechless.
Who the hell does this girl think she is?! Takeshi thought.
"Do… do I know you?" he asked, still confused, as her bright blue eyes studied his exposed, tanned skin.
"Mmm… I don't think so," Hama replied. But before Takeshi could even form a follow-up question, the girl began to poke his body.
"Don't touch me!" Takeshi roared, gripping his sword in anger.
"Oh, oh—I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I just wanted to see if you were warm," the girl said with a smile, raising her hands in mock surrender.
"Why the hell would that matter?"
"Because everyone knows demons' body temperatures are colder than humans'."
"What is with you and thinking I'm a demon?!" Takeshi's face pulsed with veins and anger.
"Well, since you asked… most humans I've met don't walk around in the snow without a shirt," Hama replied with the same soft smile, which only irritated him more.
Takeshi studied her for a moment. Her soft features and spotless clothing made her seem fragile.
"You clearly don't have much of a survival instinct if you think walking up to strangers and poking them is a good idea."
"Well… it's worked for me so far," she said casually, her aloof demeanor clashing with his rising temper.
"Besides, if you did attack me, you wouldn't be much of a challenge to defeat."
That broke his normally stoic and calm demeanor. Her words challenged his pride, and the word "weak" echoed in his mind.
He refused to ever be weak again and anyone who questioned that would face the consequences.
Clink!
As Takeshi swung at her with all his strength, a chain effortlessly blocked the attack.
Shock hit him as he realized how easily his strongest blow had been stopped. He looked over and saw a towering, blind man—Gyomei.
"Children, it sickens me to see the youth fight! Stop this at once before I need to intervene," the large man commanded, his voice firm and unyielding as tears streamed down his face.
Takeshi's pride crumbled, replaced by a familiar, unwelcome fear…
A fear that had haunted him for a long, long time.
The fear that he wasn't the strongest.
The fear that he was just a big fish in a very small pond.
Before anything else could be said, a voice rang out through the crowd.
"Congratulations to each and every one of you for surviving The Final Selection," said a beautiful young woman with white hair and purple, spiral-like eyes as she stood before the memorial shrine.
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Gekkou looked out upon Master Kurokawa's estate, its large, decadent buildings encapsulated by a grand stone wall that stood unassumingly in the dense forest.
It looked particularly beautiful this time of year, as the snow lightly grazed the tiles of the buildings, leaving a pure white outline over all. The faint wind brushed through the surrounding trees, carrying a stillness that almost tempted him to stay.
But Gekkou knew he had to leave for some time. It was the only way he could grow stronger.
He had spent the last couple of weeks training relentlessly, interrupted only when duty called to keep the estate in order. That alone had cost him—he refused to shorten his training time, even though he was the sole person tending to the grounds, leaving him with minimal sleep and rest.
On top of that, he was alone. He had no one to spar with, which caused his training to stagnate and lose its edge.
It was time to leave his home of the past year.
It was time to hunt demons.
With his options limited and thunder breathing incompatible with his body, this was the only path he could see to grow strong enough for the next Final Selection.
The timing was perfect—both Takeshi and the Master were traveling.
He was desperate to catch up. He needed this time to surpass Takeshi, even if it meant going against the Master's will to do so.
Many nights he had pondered the idea before finally deciding: he would travel for approximately three weeks, seeking out real demons to battle and destroy.
His first step would take him back to his detestable roots—his hometown, the small, meek fishing village known as Takashime.
Gekkou's body clenched at the thought of his old home, where he had once been a poor street urchin.
Still, it was the closest relatively populated area in the region, as the master's estate was far from civilization—just as the master preferred in his solitude.
It was a trait Gekkou normally shared with him, except recently, as the weeks of isolation had begun to weigh on him.
After resupplying in Takashime, he planned to travel around the coast of Lake Biwa, camping along the shoreline and hunting if necessary.
Though he had brought an ample supply of dried meat just in case, having prepared diligently for weeks.
As Gekkou looked back one final time, his pale skin blending with the surrounding snowfall, he steeled his conviction, ready to travel forth into the unknown.
————————————————
Takeshi stood in front of the glistening chunks of ore that held the power to destroy demons.
But they all look the same? Takeshi thought to himself as he hovered around the table alongside the other ten or so contestants who had survived.
The young woman with white hair, who had introduced herself earlier as Amane—or so she called herself—explained that before they could leave the exam, each of them had to pick the ore from which their Nichirin blade would be smithed.
Takeshi looked up from the ornate table, glancing around at each of his new colleagues.
Each one wore a different expression—Gyomei seemed completely emotionless, while Hama stood away from the table, letting everyone else take their turn first.
Takeshi clenched his fist as he looked at her; everything she did seemed to irritate him.
The boy next to him, however, was the most peculiar, looking as if he were about to have a meltdown.
His face was youthful, with bright bronze eyes that darted from one piece of ore to the next. His mouth twitched and shifted in an incoherent dance.
"Ahhh! Which one do I choose, which one, which one?!" the boy shouted, ruffling his deep orange hair, which almost looked black in the dim light.
Everyone turned at the outburst, even Gyomei breaking his stoic form to glance at the boy in uncertainty.
"Take your time, everyone. This is a monumental decision, and I recommend you consider carefully," Amane said, her hands folded neatly over each other as she stood in her serene, flowery kimono.
As the minutes passed, more and more of the group chose their ore until only two remained—Takeshi and Hama.
Their reasons for hesitation couldn't have been more different: Takeshi sat silently, mulling over his options, while Hama hadn't even looked at the table.
Finally, after thorough inspection, he chose his ore—the largest of the remaining pieces, with a particular glint that seemed grander than the rest.
A perfect ore is needed for a future Hashira, he thought as he picked up the frigid, rugged piece of material.
"Man, that took you forever!" the loudmouthed boy with the dark orange hair said as Takeshi took his place in line.
Takeshi simply side-eyed the kid as he walked by, his sharp amber eyes staring like daggers.
The new slayers waited to get their rank tattooed and their measurements taken for their uniforms. But before that could happen, they had to wait for everyone to finish choosing their material.
That was why they were getting furious.
"Come on, lady, get on with it!" a young man in a green haori shouted at Hama, who was still staring off into the distance.
"Oh! Me?" Hama asked, pointing to herself as she snapped back to reality.
"Yeah, what he said!" the orange-haired boy added.
"Okay."
That was all she said before walking up to the table and casually grabbing the first piece of ore in reach without even looking it over.
This girl is something else, Takeshi thought in disbelief at her audacity.
"Now that everyone has finished their Nichirin selection, we shall move on to measurements. But before that…"
As Amane's soft voice filled the barren area, she performed a gentle clap.
At the sound, multiple crows descended, each landing on the shoulder of a slayer.
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"For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life."
John 3:16
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