Chapter 21 – Meeting Giyu Tomioka Again
Snow drifted down from the gray skies, soft and pure like swan feathers.
It was still midday.
But the heavy clouds had swallowed the sun, casting the world into a cold, somber twilight.
"…No sunlight."
Hikaru murmured to himself as he walked along a narrow mountain path, lined with bare trees stripped clean by winter.
Of all the weaknesses demons possessed, none came close to the terror of sunlight.
Wisteria poison and Nichirin Blades were dangerous, sure—but demons could dodge them. Outsmart them. Fight back.
But the sun… the sun was absolute.
Even the Demon King who had lived for over a thousand years couldn't stand against it.
That's why demons only ever came out at night.
And on days like this—when the clouds were thick and not a single ray of light pierced through the sky—their chances of appearing were much higher.
The snow crunched beneath his feet, packing tight under his weight.
His breath froze in the air. The cold bit into his bones.
"…If I hadn't mastered Total Concentration Breathing: Constant, I'd probably be frozen solid by now."
Brushing snow off his shoulders, Hikaru looked forward again.
Everything around him was blanketed in white. The world beyond was swallowed by a never-ending mist, like existence itself had faded into emptiness.
He didn't really know where he was anymore.
But after months of wandering, it was only natural he'd end up somewhere unfamiliar.
Still, he didn't stop. His steps continued without hesitation.
The blizzard gradually began to ease, though the sky remained dim and shrouded in thick cloud.
Then—he stopped.
A lone crow glided across the pale sky above, its wings slicing through the wind like black knives against snow.
"…Hm?"
He tilted his head upward, watching its flight. A slight frown touched his lips.
"That…"
He drew a slow breath, letting energy swirl through his core—then raised an arm.
The crow swooped down and landed gracefully on his forearm.
He turned his gaze back to the path ahead.
A figure was approaching, footsteps crunching in the snow. Their silhouette blurred by distance, wrapped in a veil of white flurries.
Hikaru let out a small, familiar smile.
"It's been a while… Tomioka-san."
His voice was calm, almost warm.
The man who emerged wore a haori split in design—half geometric pattern, half plain. His long black hair fell loosely around his shoulders.
A sharp, handsome face. Quiet eyes that carried a certain chill… not of malice, but of isolation.
But Hikaru didn't mind.
He stepped forward with ease.
This meeting was unexpected, sure—but not unbelievable.
Demon Slayers were always on the move. Especially the Hashira. They went where they were needed, when they were needed.
And Hikaru had been wandering for nearly half a year now.
"…It's been some time."
Tomioka Giyu gave a slight nod. He didn't sound cold. Just reserved.
He hadn't been surprised to see Hikaru.
The moment the crow landed on Hikaru's arm, Giyu had sensed him.
Crows, after all, were more than messengers.
They were scavengers by nature, drawn to death and decay. The scent of rot. A scent that clung to demons like a second skin.
And now that the crow hovered overhead, circling slowly…
It could only mean one thing—
"There's a demon nearby, isn't there?" Hikaru asked softly.
Giyu nodded.
"There's a small village two mountains east of here," he said, glancing toward the northeast. "I received a report. A demon's been sighted there."
He looked uneasy.
"I'm heading to the nearest inn first. To gather intel."
His voice was low. Almost hesitant.
"I have a bad feeling about this one."
Hikaru narrowed his eyes slightly.
A bad feeling…
A village hidden beyond two mountains…
Snow falling thick in the heart of winter…
Something stirred in his chest. A memory—or maybe… a warning.
"This snow…"
"This time of year…"
It's when it all began.
"…Is something wrong?" Giyu asked, noticing the look on his face.
"Ah—no. It's nothing." Hikaru quickly shook his head, steadying his expression.
Giyu didn't press. He simply nodded, though his eyes stayed sharp. Watchful. He might've lacked social grace, but he wasn't unkind.
"Well then… I'll get going. Be careful out here."
"…Oh—and congrats. You're a Hashira now, aren't you?"
With a small wave, he turned and headed back toward the path. The crow circled overhead, flapping low and slow.
Hikaru stood still, watching Giyu's figure fade into the snow.
The winter wind howled down from the ridgeline, whipping his black haori into the air.
And his thoughts began to race.
If his memory was correct…
If his knowledge of this world still held true…
Then right about now—
Kibutsuji Muzan would appear.
He would massacre the Kamado family.
Because somewhere in their bloodline, Muzan had sensed a terrifying threat. A memory from his past he wanted erased—before it could bloom into something he couldn't control.
That moment… would set everything in motion.
It would throw a boy named Kamado Tanjiro into a thousand-year-long war between Demon Slayers and demons.
But—
That was the original story.
Things were different now.
And Hikaru had a choice to make.
Would he simply watch as history repeated itself?
Or would he intervene… and try to change fate?
His hand drifted to the hilt of his Nichirin Blade, resting firmly at his side.
Muzan wasn't just any demon. He was the Demon King. A being who'd lived since the Heian era.
There wasn't a soul alive who could face him casually—not even Hikaru as he was now.
And if Giyu went at his current pace… there was no way he'd make it in time.
Hikaru's mind was in chaos.
He wasn't a hero.
He had never once called himself a good person.
He helped when he could. But he never pushed himself into danger if the risk outweighed the reward.
That's why his alignment in the system still read: Lawful Neutral.
He acted according to principle. Logic. His own code.
But then why…
Why did his heart feel so heavy?
Why wouldn't this unease leave him?
Being selfish didn't mean being heartless.
And a man's worth wasn't defined by a system label.
"…Tch. Why am I hesitating like this?"
He ruffled his long black hair, eyes lifting to the gloomy sky above.
Even with all the clouds—he knew.
It was still daylight.
The sun hadn't set yet.
And under the sun's light…
Muzan couldn't move freely.
"…There's still time."
His grip on the sword tightened.
The decision was made.
The Kamado family…
Might still be saved.
If he moved now—
If he used every card he had—
Then maybe, just maybe—
He could rewrite the beginning of it all.
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