Kokushibo stood on the silent street, taking in the surroundings that were both strange and achingly familiar. Across these past centuries, he had returned here more times than he could count. He no longer knew what emotion drove him back again and again to the place where he was born, raised—and personally cast aside.
Gazing at the streets where every trace of the past had long vanished, he slowly approached the former site of the Tsugikuni Clan. The once-imposing estate had become a temple for worship, its lineage maintained intermittently for hundreds of years.
He remembered that shortly after the Tsugikuni Clan was wiped out, Hiru had sold off or donated nearly all family assets for cash. The only request he made regarding their ancestral home was simple: no matter what happened to the property in the future—whether it was resold or repurposed—the small attic, no larger than three tatami mats, had to remain intact.
And so, even centuries later, Kokushibo could still see that quaint, old-fashioned attic standing abruptly in a corner of the temple grounds. It was the room Yoriichi had once lived in.
Standing atop the eaves, he looked toward it from afar. Even after abandoning his humanity—after the faces of his parents, his wife, and his children had blurred beyond recall—he still remembered his younger brothers with perfect clarity.
First was Yoriichi, gentle, humble, and reverent toward all things. Despite possessing godlike strength no human could hope to match, he always regarded himself as insignificant as a speck of dust. That unknowing arrogance—born from strength so absolute he could not perceive it—was nauseating and infuriating.
Then there was Hiru, whose perception was razor-sharp, yet whose heart remained calm and clear. Nothing seemed capable of casting a shadow over his spirit.
Kokushibo still remembered vividly how Hiru looked upon seeing him after he had become a demon. Though his appearance at the time differed little from that of a human, Hiru's eyes widened in shock and instinctive distance the moment he saw him. And when he learned Kokushibo had come to kill him, those black eyes held only sorrow—not even the faintest trace of resentment.
Even at the brink of death, Hiru accepted his fate with the same natural composure as always. That unshakable calm only made Kokushibo all the more painfully aware of his own disgrace.
Why could he remain so calm?
To this day, Kokushibo still had no answer.
Later, he heard that Hiru had become a demon and encountered Yoriichi. He had thought Hiru might die at Yoriichi's hands—yet Yoriichi hesitated, even defying the vow he once voiced:
"In this beautiful world, demons should not exist. I will do everything in my power to end this chaos."
Not long afterward, Muzan was gravely wounded and disappeared, losing his control over all demons—including Kokushibo. He regained his freedom, but instead of relief, it only deepened the revulsion he felt toward Yoriichi. From the beginning, he had been forced to accept Yoriichi's unconscious charity.
Whether it was the family inheritance, the Breathing Styles and Slayer Mark that amplified his strength, or even this final freedom—Yoriichi had given him everything without even realizing it. And through it all, he still addressed him naturally and respectfully as "Brother."
What right do I have to be your brother? I was even… protected by you.
It was a truth Kokushibo loathed, yet could not deny.
After becoming a demon, he wandered the land challenging the strong, desperate to surpass Yoriichi. But in the end, he never saw Yoriichi or Hiru again. He only heard the news: Yoriichi had taken his own life after killing Hiru.
Kokushibo could not imagine what Yoriichi felt in that moment. But when the news reached him, he knew one thing with certainty—he would never surpass him.
And the promise he once made to them—
"I'll always protect you. An older brother protects his younger brothers without question!"—
had long since become nothing more than a bitter joke.
As he watched a temple monk come out to replace the wisteria incense, Kokushibo stepped down from the eaves and walked away.
But at the very least, now… he still had one last chance. Whether it could be called repayment was another matter entirely.