Tick-tick-tick-tick—!
In the busy town, a cold drizzle fell, making the winter even harsher. Among the noisy crowd, one figure stood out, completely out of place.
Tanjiro—or rather, I—was standing in a small store, holding a bag of something, expressionless, and asked the shopkeeper:
"Is this salt?"
The shopkeeper, a little embarrassed at the blank look, forced a polite smile.
"Sir… that's flour. Salt's over at the other counter."
I nodded, said nothing, put the flour down, went to the right counter, grabbed the real salt, paid, and left.
The shopkeeper let out a sigh as I walked away.
"This guy's been here eight times this week, every time for salt… how much salt does one family need?"
I walked out of the town slowly, carrying the bags, moving toward the forest. After a long walk, I reached a small wooden house.
A crow perched on the window noticed me and flapped its wings before landing on my shoulder.
"Sir, the lord supports your decision. I hope Tanjiro Kamado lives up to everyone's expectations," it said.
I glanced at the bird, nodded, and it flew off. I set the bags on the table, closed the front door, and moved toward the back.
Outside, a shirtless red-haired boy with a rope tied around his waist was pulling a huge rock. He stopped when he saw me.
"Mr. Yoriichi… you're back," Tanjiro said, slightly out of breath.
I nodded, tossed him a water bag.
"Drink this first. After you finish, run around the mountain ten times."
"Yes!" he replied.
Tanjiro had been training like this for a year. At first, he struggled, but now his movements were precise, his body strong. He had also learned from Yoriichi that the "Fire God Kagura" his family had performed for generations was actually the "Breathing of the Sun."
What they didn't know was that I had spies everywhere—hundreds of blood-red eyes watching their every move.
Infinite City
I sat by the window as usual, red book in hand, a cup of steaming coffee on the table. Pressing my temple with my fingers, I squinted slightly and murmured:
"You've worked hard…"
I lowered my hand, opened the book, then lifted the coffee to my lips and asked casually:
"Akaza, are you really going to challenge him?"
Behind me, kneeling, was a ghost with short pink hair, golden eyes, pale skin, and dark blue tattoos marking his sins. He wore a purple short-sleeved shirt.
After a pause, he replied slowly:
"…Yes."
I sipped my coffee, exhaled, and said, still looking out the window, "Even Kokushibo couldn't beat him. You'll die if you go."
Akaza said nothing more, and I didn't turn to look at him. After a moment, I realized…
Death was Akaza's path. In his human life, he had relatives, but that life was broken. He had no descendants after becoming a demon. When I turned him into a demon, I didn't erase his memories—he simply forgot them on his own. It was better he died now and was reborn into a good family in the next life.
Tick.
The sound of the pipa rang, and Akaza disappeared. I shared his perspective at the moment he teleported.
"Guess I won't get to watch the Infinity Train story… but this will do."
"Good morning, afternoon, and evening, everyone!"
"Welcome to our commentary on Akaza vs. Yoriichi Tsugikuni!"
"I'm your commentator, Muzan Kibutsuji!"
"Alright, first thing we see—Akaza is confidently walking toward the wooden house where Yoriichi is. What's Yoriichi doing right now?"
"We don't know! We don't have a god's-eye view!"
It was late at night. Tanjiro had already fallen asleep, while Yoriichi Tsugikuni sat at a table by candlelight, pen in hand, quietly writing. But the moment Akaza arrived, he sensed his presence.
Yoriichi calmly drew his Nichirin Sword and stepped outside—just in time to face Akaza.
"He's coming! Look at him! He's holding the Sun Sword, moving with a calm but commanding stride—he only recognizes his own family!"
"…He seems to have no relatives, only his brother left. But it doesn't matter! This is the man who freezes when facing ordinary people, ghosts vanish when he sees demons, and cars… get flat tires? Anyway, he's out!"
Yoriichi didn't say a word. Flames instantly wrapped his Nichirin Sword, and his body glowed as he leapt in front of Akaza.
"Whoa! He's activated the Sun Breathing! In an instant, he's before Akaza, swinging a perfect arc—the Second Form, Bikuroten!"
Akaza swung his fist to block, but it wasn't enough. The sword sliced through his arm, though he grabbed it with his other hand just in time.
"Akaza blocked it, barely! He was almost beheaded! His arm is cut in half, and the look in his eyes says: 'This guy's insane!'"
"Muzan Kibutsuji sent you…" Yoriichi asked, eyes sharp, staring at Akaza.
Akaza didn't answer. A grin spread across his face. He shook off the sword and lunged forward, kicking.
Yoriichi blocked the kick with his blade and stepped back calmly.
Akaza noticed his slow recovery but adapted quickly, pushing his body to heal. When his arm was nearly restored, he said, "Your fighting spirit… it's incredible… amazing."
He stretched his right hand forward like a palm strike, retracted his left as a fist, and slammed his feet against the ground. The earth cracked, and blue light spread in snowflake patterns.
"Technique: Destruction Style—Needle!"
"It's a move that senses the opponent's fighting spirit. Impossible to dodge… unless your opponent is Yoriichi Tsugikuni, who was born with the Transparent World!"
Yoriichi frowned slightly but remained calm. The vibrations woke Tanjiro from his sleep.
"Mr. Yoriichi! What's happening?!"
Tanjiro rushed outside and saw a clash of red flames and blue light, moving too fast for the naked eye.
"Destruction Killing Annihilation Style!"
"Eleventh Form: Sun Halo Dragon—Fire Dance!"
A dragon-shaped flame slammed against the blue light shield.
Boom!
A gust of wind knocked Tanjiro back. When the smoke cleared, Yoriichi stood calm and unscathed. His clothes were slightly dusty but intact.
Akaza, however, was battered—arms broken, scars covering him, residual flames flickering across his body. Despite his pain, he radiated the same oppressive aura that had terrified Tanjiro the first time he saw him.
"Why… do I feel so suffocated just looking at him?" Tanjiro thought.
Yoriichi glanced at Tanjiro and signaled him not to move.
"That concludes our commentary!"
Infinite City
I sat in my room, hands on my temples, observing everything.
"The fight's over… but Akaza still hasn't regained his human memories…"
I released my hands, ending the co-vision. After a pause, I decided…
["I'm a good ghost anyway. I can't just let Third Brother die like this."]
Tick.
The pipa sounded, and I vanished.
Yoriichi held his red-hot blade at Akaza's neck.
"You… lost."
Akaza didn't show fear. He smiled, satisfied with the fight.
"You can hide your fighting spirit… my Lord is right. You're stronger than that Upper Rank One guy."
Suddenly, Muzan appeared nearby, and Yoriichi sensed him.
"Yoriichi Tsugikuni, I'll take him," a crisp voice said. A person in pajamas with a cartoon pattern stepped between them. Long hair tied with a headband, a pleasant scent in the air, and a gentle smile.
Tanjiro was stunned—this person appeared suddenly, with no malice.
"Nice… harmless," he thought.
I frowned, speaking to the Ghost King.
"You sent him?"
"No, he came on his own," the figure replied.
"Why?"
"Because you're strong. He wants to challenge you."
"You'd rather die than live?"
"Don't ask me. Ask him."
I pointed to Akaza, standing upright, staring at Yoriichi.
Muzan paused, thought, then sheathed his Sun Sword and turned away.
"Next time we meet… I won't let you go."
"There won't be a next time," Akaza replied quietly.
Tick.
The pipa sounded again, and Akaza and I vanished.
Yoriichi came to Tanjiro's side. Tanjiro, still dazed, obeyed quietly.
"Go back to sleep," Yoriichi said softly.
"Yes…" Tanjiro replied, finally understanding enough to obey.
They both returned to their beds. Time passed. Tanjiro slept deeply, but Yoriichi stared at the moon, reflecting on his first meeting with the Demon King and every encounter since. Almost ten times, each more confusing than the last.
["Muzan Kibutsuji… what do you want?"]
["Why… do I feel compelled to get closer to you?"]