Having understood his current location and era, a new question flooded Tsugikuni Yoriichi's mind.
—Why could people see him?
He was a Shinigami…
Did everyone in the Human World possess reishi?
This didn't match what was taught in textbooks…
"A strange world…"
He sighed with emotion, shook his head slightly, and Tsugikuni Yoriichi gradually lowered his gaze, resolving not to think about it further.
A cold wind, carrying a few cherry blossom petals, blew in, some falling through the window gaps onto the dark yellow floor.
The wooden house creaked and groaned. Yoriichi surveyed everything around him, then looked at the old man named Saburo below him.
Not long after, he heard a word that piqued his interest from the old man's words.
"The Kamado family on the mountain…"
"Kamado?" Yoriichi repeated the surname. The moment he spoke, a long-sealed memory suddenly surged into his mind.
It was only then that he remembered.
This mountain was the same mountain he had passed by seventy years ago.
On that mountain, he had met the first true friend in his life who understood him. And it was from that moment that he shed tears for the first time in his life.
—Was Tanjiro…
—Still alive?
"Sir Samurai, do you know the Kamado family?"
Because Yoriichi, dressed in a Shinigami uniform, looked particularly imposing, Saburo, who had never left the mountain in his life, subconsciously took him for a samurai.
Although he carried a sword at his waist, Saburo felt he should report it, but for some reason, facing Tsugikuni Yoriichi, he felt an inexplicable sense of closeness.
It was like meeting a long-lost relative, which prevented him from feeling any hostility.
"He is my friend."
"My only friend."
Yoriichi emphasised, his voice like a spring breeze, revealing a faint nostalgia that caused Saburo's expression to freeze.
His hands, which were pouring water, suddenly stopped mid-air.
He put down the teapot.
Seemingly recalling an unpleasant past event, Saburo lowered his head slightly, his voice choked, as tiny as a mosquito's buzz:
"Is that so?
"Then I am truly sorry…"
His aged eyes flickered twice, and a strong wave of sorrow instantly filled the entire space with his words.
"I have some bad news to tell you."
"The Kamado family…"
"Was wiped out…"
Crack!
Like a muffled thunderclap from the sky, a crack instantly appeared in the teacup in Yoriichi's hand.
His breathing stopped in that instant.
One second later, he raised his eyes, gazing at Saburo, his crimson eyes no longer holding their previous calm, his tone like the eerie stillness before a thunderstorm:
"What?"
…
Boom!
"Kibutsuji Muzan…"
A black figure flickered through the dim, lightless sky with almost lightning speed.
Each time his foot stepped on the air, it vibrated with invisible reishi ripples.
The clouds were pushed aside as he advanced.
He gazed at everything below.
The mountains, the terrain… all were as he remembered.
Only the cosy little house on the mountaintop, which was in his memory, was lifeless.
Covered in moss, it appeared exceptionally desolate.
Upon nearing, a trace of blood, long devoid of vitality, lingered in his nostrils.
—That was a demon's blood.
—The blood of "Demon King" Muzan!
His fists clenched, his gaze following his senses, sweeping across a corner of the courtyard.
There, five burial mounds lay quietly.
The incense sticks in front of the mounds had long burned out, their ashes scattering in the wind, leaving only a faint white trace.
Weeds grew rampant around them, and the flower branches were withered.
The atmosphere was extremely bleak.
Seeing this, his perpetually calm expression, unchanged for a hundred years, was now like a frozen lake, anger surging in his eyes:
"You won't escape!"
"Wait for me!"
…
Soon after paying respects to the deceased of the Kamado family, Yoriichi descended the mountain under the cover of night. He bid farewell to Saburo and headed in the direction of Mount Sagiri.
Saburo said that although the Kamado family had been wiped out, a young boy named Tanjiro Kamado had fortunately survived.
Tanjirou had asked him about the location of Mount Sagiri about three months ago.
Perhaps he was there now.
"Mount Sagiri…"
"Tanjirou…"
"Tanjiro… your descendant?"
"A blessing in disguise."
"I could not fulfil my wish in life; I cannot let Tanjirou suffer the same tragedy as me…"
Yoriichi did not know how many generations Tanjiro was from Tanjiro.
But one thing was certain: having witnessed his family slaughtered by demons, he must hate those demons to the core.
Out of impulse, he might foolishly seek revenge against them, which could lead to his demise… This was something Yoriichi did not want to see.
Tanjiro was his friend.
No matter what, his bloodline had to continue.
Furthermore… if he had slain Kibutsuji Muzan back then, none of the current circumstances would have occurred.
It was all his responsibility.
He was obligated to take responsibility.
Whoosh…
A heavy breath coursed through his limbs and bones into his body. Yoriichi gazed into the distance. In about three minutes, he saw a tall mountain shrouded in dense mist.
—Mount Sagiri.
He slowly descended until he landed.
He walked to a wooden house at the foot of the mountain.
Only then did an inevitable sense of nervousness rise within him. His expression remained as usual.
It had been hundreds of years since he last saw the Kamado family. At first, Yoriichi thought the Taisho era was merely the period after the Sengoku era.
He never imagined it was the world four hundred years later.
Four hundred years of drastic changes were enough to alter everything.
Perhaps the current Tanjirou no longer bore the shadow of Tanjiro Kamado, but no matter what, he was a junior whom he must look after.
As for… why he, an elder, had returned from the dead?
If creatures like demons could exist in this world, why couldn't Shinigami?
—Knock, knock, knock.
As the door was knocked, an eerie silence fell over the surroundings.
At the same time, Yoriichi's nostrils flared slightly.
It seemed… he had caught the scent of a demon.
He slowly lowered his right hand, placing it on his Zanpakuto, his arm muscles tensed, his gaze piercing through the wooden door, fixed on the interior of the house.
Soft, sun-like lamplight seeped through the door crack onto Yoriichi, yet he felt no warmth at all.
Boom!
In an instant, a colossal surge of killing intent, accompanied by flames igniting in the night sky, erupted, instantly clearing the mist within a thousand-meter radius!
…
Seconds earlier, Urokodaki Sakonji, about to rest, was preparing to close his eyes.
Before pulling up his blanket, he glanced at Tanjirou, who was writing in his diary in the corner, a rather relieved smile on his face.
Tanjirou's body was covered in scars, his bruises still visible, showing the effort he had put in during this time.
As a Demon Slayer Corps trainer, children with such resilient wills, like Tanjirou, were his favourite.
Rustle~
The sound of writing echoed intermittently.
His gaze then shifted to his feet.
There lay a little girl in a deep sleep.
Her small mouth was slightly open, a green bamboo tube half-held, half-exposed, complementing her serene and well-behaved sleeping face, adding a touch of innocent childlike charm.
Nezuko Kamado, Tanjirou's younger sister.
Once human, now… a demon.
Just as he was contemplating, an overwhelming sense of crisis, like a needle prick, suddenly struck Urokodaki Sakonji's heart.
Boundless coldness climbed his spine!
The peace and tranquillity within the house were shattered, his breathing involuntarily hitched, and he abruptly looked towards the door.
Although there was no fluctuation of aura, his intuition told him that someone was standing there.
—Who is it!?
Hastily, he grabbed the Nichirin blade by his side.
Click…
The moment the blade was drawn, a surging flame suddenly erupted at the doorway. The sudden light and heat that burst in caused Urokodaki Sakonji's face to change drastically.
—Unstoppable!
"Tanjirou!"
"Take Nezuko… and run!"