"I'm sorry... please take care of this child!"
"Hey! Who are you? Don't dump trouble on someone else like this!"
"Please... his name is Asuka... I'm begging you!"
What was that voice... a woman? Where am I?
In his hazy state, Asuka felt as though his consciousness had turned into a thick paste, soaked in darkness where he couldn't stretch his limbs, unable to see anything at all.
All he could vaguely make out was the silhouette of a black-haired woman, clumsily shoving him into an elderly woman's arms before turning and sprinting away like she'd lost her mind.
"I'm sorry... Asuka... I'm so sorry!!"
After she ran off, a group of swordsmen dressed in black kimono began searching house by house. At the leader's command, they eventually chased after the woman in the direction she had fled.
As those swordsmen disappeared into the distance, Asuka's consciousness grew blurrier and heavier, sinking deeper and deeper until it was swallowed by darkness.
He didn't know how much time had passed. Maybe an instant. Maybe an endless eternity.
Then, suddenly, a piercing pain shot through him. Savage, horrifying scenes of slaughter flashed before his eyes, shattering again and again, until he abruptly snapped his eyes open.
"Old man!"
He jolted upright, his entire body screaming with pain as if it were falling apart.
Asuka gasped for breath, scanning his surroundings in shock and confusion.
This was a small Japanese-style room, simply and traditionally furnished. Beneath him was a tatami mat layered with a soft futon, and over him lay a thick, warm blanket that carried the faint, comforting scent of sunlight.
The air was filled with a bitter medicinal aroma, like Winter Ling Grass from a herb rack. It seemed to come from a short cabinet in the corner, on top of which sat a dark bowl of medicine that hadn't been finished.
Where is this place...
Panic surged through Asuka as he instinctively reached for his long blade, only to find empty space at his side.
His eyes darted around until he finally spotted it in the corner behind him, his broken sword standing alone against the wall.
Struggling to get up, Asuka tried to pull the blade into his arms, but the intense pain tearing through his body made his brow twitch. Cold sweat seeped from his forehead as the strength he'd barely gathered vanished in an instant.
He collapsed to the floor, forcing himself to stay upright as he slowly dragged his body toward the sword.
Rukongai had taught him its most important lesson: never trust kindness without reason.
He had believed the lies of those men in black, trading a few meals for their promises, only to be subjected to inhuman torment and left to rot in this hellish place...
If he'd had even the slightest strength left back then, he never would have let that old man help him, even if the man truly meant well.
This world devoured people. If you didn't want to be eaten, you had to grow thorns.
Click.
Before he could reach the sword, the sliding door of the room was pushed open.
"What are you doing?"
"I heard something and thought something was wrong. You really shouldn't be moving! Your injuries are serious!"
A boy wearing a light green kendo uniform, looking a year or two older than Asuka, shouted in surprise. Beside him, a girl with long black hair, holding a steaming ceramic bowl, hurried over with clear concern in her eyes.
The girl gently set the bowl on the tatami and tried to help Asuka up. "You only just stopped bleeding. Please lie back down!"
Asuka froze instantly—not because of her concern, but because he saw the light green kendo uniform on the boy.
The color was different, but it looked just like the uniforms worn by the black-clad swordsmen who had dragged him out of Rukongai and tortured him without mercy. Alarm bells screamed in his mind.
"Get away!"
He roared, swinging his arm violently. Fresh blood seeped through the bandages on his shoulder.
Gritting his teeth against the pain, Asuka recoiled sharply, slamming his back against the wall as he glared viciously at the two intruders.
"Who are you?! Where is this place?!"
Hostility filled his gaze, as if he would fight the girl to the death if she took even one step closer.
The boy in the kendo uniform was completely baffled by the sudden aggression. He halted in place, exchanging stunned looks with the girl.
"You, you bastard!"
They hadn't expected Asuka to reject their kindness so fiercely. Anger flared in the boy's chest as he was about to speak again, but the girl quickly stood up and tugged at his sleeve, signaling him to calm down.
She took two steps back, keeping a safe distance, and spoke softly. "Please don't be nervous. We don't mean you any harm..."
"This is Hayama, a place dedicated to training swordsmen who fight demons. My name is Rika, and this is Kenichi."
She pointed to the wisteria crest on the wall. "Members of the Demon Slayer Corps found you gravely injured and unconscious in the snowy forest and brought you here."
"Demon Slayer Corps?" The unfamiliar term did nothing to ease Asuka's wariness. His eyes remained fixed on the visibly irritated Kenichi. "What's a demon?"
"What? Weren't you brought here as an exception because you killed one?" Kenichi cut in. "They found human remains and a strong residue of demonic presence. Combined with the signs of battle, they concluded that you killed a demon."
He added, "Demons are man-eating monsters! They don't age or die, and only sunlight or a Nichirin blade can kill them! I've got no idea how you managed it!"
Monster...
Now Asuka understood.
So that twisted, flesh-eating creature was what they called a demon.
But when Kenichi mentioned another human corpse, Asuka's eyes dimmed, and the hostility radiating from him eased slightly.
Sensing the shift in his emotions, Rika sighed softly and picked up the bowl of medicine again.
"No matter what, you need proper treatment and rest right now. Your injuries are extremely severe. The fact that you survived at all is a miracle. You should treasure your body..."
She quietly placed the bowl in front of Asuka, making no move to force him. Asuka, however, continued to watch her warily, with no intention of accepting it.
An awkward silence settled over the room until Kenichi spoke again, his patience clearly wearing thin.
"Hey! I'm talking to you! Rika worked hard to brew that medicine for you. Even if you don't say thanks, why are you looking at her like she's some kind of thief?!"
"...Let me go." Asuka didn't know what the truth was, but all he wanted was to leave this unfamiliar place, no matter how broken he was.
"You little—!"
At that moment, a deep, steady voice with an air of iron resolve came from the doorway.
"Kenichi, what are you arguing about?"
All three turned at once.
A tall figure stood outside the room.
It was an old man around fifty, his face sharp and chiseled like it had been carved by an axe. His short hair was thick and bristled like steel needles.
He wore a simple dark green kimono, with a darker haori casually draped over it. Deep lines marked his face, along with a scar between his brows. His left sleeve hung empty, neatly pinned at his waist.
He merely stood there, showing no overt hostility or aggression, yet every hair on Asuka's body stood on end.
That feeling again...
An overwhelming pressure, an instinctive unease, as if the man himself were an unsheathed blade. Just standing there, he radiated a terrifying power that could erupt at any moment.
The instant Kenichi saw the old man, his heated emotions vanished. Like a chick grabbed by the neck, he flushed red and bowed deeply with reverence.
"Arisaki-sensei!"
Rika also quickly bowed. "Sensei."
The old man swept his calm, penetrating gaze across the room and immediately grasped the situation.
He didn't scold Asuka for his rudeness or hostility. Instead, he simply waved his hand, signaling Kenichi and Rika to leave.
Then he entered the room alone, slid the door shut, and walked calmly to Asuka's side before sitting down cross-legged.
"Your Name?"