Chapter 72 – A New Journey: Natagumo Mountain
"Where can I find the Twelve Kizuki?"
The question fell from Yukishiro's lips like a blade scraping stone. Tamayo's eyes widened ever so slightly. Yushiro, however, let out a bitter laugh.
"You? Find the Twelve Kizuki?" He sneered openly, folding his arms. "Don't overestimate yourself. With your strength, you wouldn't last a heartbeat against them."
This time Tamayo did not chide him. Instead, her gaze softened with concern as she nodded. "Yushiro is right. You are still young. You cannot fathom the strength of the Twelve Kizuki. Even a hashira of the Corps—those who stand at the very peak of the swordsmen—may not triumph against them."
The word hashira lodged in Yukishiro's chest like a stone. So even the strongest warriors of the Corps, the very ones whispered of in reverence, might not prevail. His fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white.
There was more Tamayo left unsaid. If Yukishiro's sister had indeed been taken by one of the Twelve, the chances of her survival—or of her humanity—were vanishingly slim. To voice such cruelty aloud would serve nothing, so she held her silence.
The room stilled, heavy with the weight of what was not spoken. Then, after a long pause, Yukishiro's low, strained voice broke it.
"You said… you were developing a medicine. One that could kill demons. Have you succeeded?"
Tamayo folded her hands in her lap, her voice tinged with quiet regret. "Not kill. The medicine I research can only suppress their regeneration. It is still imperfect, and far from complete."
Suppress regeneration.
That meant wounds would linger, unable to knit back together. It was not yet a weapon—but it was hope.
Tamayo studied his face with gentle seriousness. "Yukishiro, you now walk with the Demon Slayer Corps. You carry their support. Before you ever think to cross blades with a Kizuki, you must grow strong—stronger than you can yet imagine.
If you fall now, your sister's sacrifice will lose its meaning. The life she gave you will be wasted."
"I… I understand." His head dipped low, his voice flat, though the ache beneath it was plain.
Tamayo, mercifully, offered a small thread of reassurance.
"Tell me the appearance of this Imiya Kishi, and of your sister. If I learn anything, I will send word."
Yukishiro's eyes lifted slightly in surprise, then softened. He described them in as much detail as he could bear, his voice steady but hollow.
Yushiro scribbled the details meticulously into a small leather notebook.
"And know this," Tamayo added. "The Twelve Kizuki are divided into Upper and Lower Moons, six of each. Their power is marked upon them.Within their eyes you will see the kanji of their rank—one through six. Remember this, and you will know when you stand before one of them."
The words settled heavily. For the first time, Yukishiro truly believed the two demons before him were unlike the others—gentle in their intent, their knowledge invaluable. Inhibiting regeneration, gathering intelligence, guiding his blade toward the truth.
They could be allies, even if in shadows.
"Then… let me help you." Yukishiro's voice was steady now. "You need blood samples. With my identity in the Corps, I can make it easier."
The hall went silent.
Tamayo blinked, Yushiro's pen froze mid-stroke, and even Mitsune's lips parted in shock.
She understood immediately. He's doing this for his sister. He'll cross any line if it means hope. But the Corps and demons had always stood as sworn enemies.
If this alliance were ever discovered… the punishment would be unimaginable.
Her mouth opened, but no words came.
Tamayo's lips curved in a soft, almost bittersweet smile. "You remind me of another boy. His name is Tanjiro. He too has just joined the Corps. His sister was turned into a demon, and yet he carries her with him, searching always for a cure."
Yukishiro's eyes flickered. "A cure?"
"Yes." Tamayo's gaze grew distant, but warm. "I promised to aid him. If my research succeeds—if a medicine that can suppress regeneration is perfected—then perhaps one day, demons may return to being human."
Mitsune's breath caught. The thought alone seemed like a miracle. Yukishiro, for the first time, allowed himself to feel something close to hope.
Tamayo inclined her head. "If you truly wish to help, then I will gladly accept."
"Where can I find you?" Yukishiro pressed.
"You cannot," Tamayo replied gently. "Muzan's eyes are everywhere. We move constantly. But Yushiro will find you, when the news comes."
He nodded. That would have to be enough.
By the time the lamps guttered low, dawn was near. Together the four stepped out into the pale morning chill of Shimizu-machi.
Tamayo and Yushiro, their vials filled, offered brief farewells before vanishing into the fog, ever hunted, ever wandering.
Yukishiro carried with him the blood-drawing kits Yushiro had pressed into his hand. Mitsune walked at his side, quiet, her eyes clouded with worry.
But midway down a narrow alley, Yukishiro stopped suddenly, gripping the wall as his body convulsed. He bent double, retching violently.
Mitsune hurried to his side, her hand trembling as it stroked his back. His skin was clammy, his face pale as snow.
He looked less like a warrior and more like a boy on the edge of breaking.
At last he straightened, swaying, lips bloodless.
"Yukishiro…" Her voice was barely above a whisper, her heart squeezing at the sight of his exhaustion. Without thinking, she threw her arms around him from behind.
Her chest pressed against his back, her warmth seeping into him like a living hearth.
Yukishiro froze, stunned, a flush spreading across his weary face.
Quickly, he pried her hands away. "What are you doing? Have you lost your mind?"
Mitsune shrank back, eyes downcast, fingers twisting nervously. "My mother… she said… if a friend is sad, give them a hug. It makes them feel better."
His anger faded at once. She was so fragile, so cautious, and yet so earnest. How could he wound her further?
He sighed heavily, softening his voice. "Your mother didn't mean that. Girls shouldn't go around hugging just anyone. She must have meant your female friends."
Mitsune peeked up, searching his face. When she saw no more anger there, only a weary gentleness, her shoulders loosened in relief.
"O-okay. I must have heard wrong." She smiled faintly, small but genuine. "How are you now?"
"Better," he murmured. And in truth, the tightness in his chest had eased, just a little.
On the horizon, light pierced the dark. The mountains glowed faintly as the night retreated, and in the quiet town, doors opened and fires were lit for breakfast.
"Mitsune," Yukishiro said suddenly, his tone softer than before. "There's something I need to ask. Don't tell anyone about Tamayo and Yushiro."
She blinked, then nodded firmly. "You don't need to worry. I won't say a word."
"…Thank you."
It was only then that Mitsune realized how often Yukishiro had been saying those words lately.
As if something within him was changing, slowly but surely.
"Now that our mission is complete," she asked, "when do we leave?"
"Tomorrow. We'll rest today, then set out at dawn."
And so, after bidding the Fukada family farewell, they set out once more on the road.
The morning was quiet, broken only by the crunch of gravel beneath their sandals. Then, from high above, came a harsh, grating cry—
"Caw! Caw! Caw! Natagumo Mountain! Natagumo Mountain!"
Two Kasugai crows swooped down before them, wings beating furiously, their message shrill as iron.
The next destination of their journey had been decided.
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