Speaking of that night on the Mugen Train, Kyojuro's gaze became extremely solemn: "Speaking of which, I truly thank you for your desperate fight that night, risking your life! If not for you... this life-saving grace! I will hold it in my heart!"
He didn't ramble on with long speeches. His words were concise and serious, full of the responsibility and sincerity befitting the Flame Hashira.
Taka's expression remained calmly waveless. He nodded slightly in acknowledgment of the thanks.
Regarding the discussion of life-saving grace or the speed of injury recovery, he seemed completely unconcerned.
His gaze calmly met Kyojuro's scorching stare, and he spoke directly: "Don't worry about it. I came this time for Flame Breathing."
Kyojuro, holding his somewhat painful chest, laughed heartily. He understood this was Taka's consistent style.
"Umu! Excellent! This pure heart in pursuing power is worthy of a Hashira!" He appreciated Taka's frankness and was about to invite him inside for a talk when—
A sudden sound of staggering footsteps, along with a strong smell of alcohol, came from the front gate.
The door leading to the inner residence was roughly kicked open. A tall figure swayed and stumbled in.
The man wore a faded, bluish-grey long robe. His disheveled, gold-red long hair looked unwashed for a long time, almost matted.
His face bore an unhealthy flush from long-term alcoholism. He was unshaven and looked very unkempt.
Carrying a full flask of sake, he swept an unfriendly gaze over the people in the courtyard with bloodshot eyes—
This man was the head of the Rengoku Family, the former Flame Hashira, Rengoku Shinjuro.
Shinjuro gulped down a large mouthful of sake, belched rudely, and looked Taka, who was talking with Kyojuro, up and down with an overbearing and impolite stare. The corner of his mouth curled into a glaring, deeply sarcastic smile:
"Heh heh.... So who's here? Another bunch of worthless losers from the Demon Slayer Corps...." Shinjuro let out a string of incomprehensible snickers, his voice hoarse and harsh: "What? Come to mock the Flame Hashira of our Rengoku Family? The sick cat who couldn't get up after being kicked by a mere Upper Moon demon?"
Kyojuro's expression faltered for a moment, but he immediately took a deep breath and introduced with a hearty smile: "Father, this is—"
"Shut up!" Shinjuro roughly interrupted his son's words, impatiently shaking his sake flask: "Just another worthless mediocrity not worth a cent! What's there to say? Get lost!"
He staggered towards the inner residence.
As he passed Kyojuro, Shinjuro shot him a vicious glare: "Isn't this good! People without talent should just stay home! Going out will only get you killed for nothing!"
These words even stung Shinobu slightly. Her brow unconsciously furrowed.
Senjuro, sweeping the courtyard, was about to cry. He kept his head buried low, afraid of incurring his father's displeasure.
However, Kyojuro did not get angry because of this. He simply bowed to his father: "Father, please drink less. Your health is important...."
Shinjuro acted as if he hadn't heard, climbing onto the veranda and preparing to enter the house.
"Rengoku Shinjuro-san, right?"
Taka suddenly spoke, startling the others present. Shinobu even tugged at his sleeve, signaling him not to cause trouble.
"I want to learn Flame Breathing. May I ask if you can teach me?"
"Huh?" Shinjuro turned around, frowning deeply at Taka. "What nonsense are you spouting, you brat?"
Taka bowed respectfully, his expression serious: "My name is Taka. I wish to learn the Rengoku Family's passed-down Flame Breathing. Please instruct me."
"Heh... hahahaha!" Shinjuro seemed to have heard the funniest joke and suddenly burst into piercing wild laughter.
Soon, the laughter stopped.
Shinjuro's gaze turned cold and desperate, full of self-abandoned resentment: "You want to learn Flame Breathing? Kid, are you deliberately looking for trouble? What kind of dogshit thing is that? A joke!"
He violently hurled the sake flask in his hand at Taka's feet. The piercing shattering sound startled the birds perched in nearby trees.
"Worthless! Not worth a cent!" He roared hysterically, pointing at Kyojuro: "Look at him! What good did learning it do? What good did becoming a Hashira do? He still got beaten half to death like a dog?!"
"Flame Breathing is the breathing of good-for-nothings! People like us are just talentless good-for-nothings..."
"Is that so? But I'm not a good-for-nothing. I just want to learn more power."
Taka interrupted Shinjuro's self-abandonment. Amidst the other's rising anger, he spoke calmly: "If this request is too difficult for you, I apologize for disturbing you."
'This man is hopeless,' Taka thought.
"What? You little brat...." Shinjuro's shoulders trembled. He hadn't expected this kid to dare defy him so directly. He was about to erupt.
"Father! Please calm down!"
"Get away!!"
Kyojuro quickly tried to step between them, but was roughly shoved aside by Shinjuro, falling to the ground.
"Cough cough..." He violently burst into coughs, his expression worsening.
Senjuro quickly ran to his brother's side, gently rubbing Kyojuro's back. Tears welled in his eyes, but he bit his lip tightly, afraid to make a sound.
Kyojuro strove to calm the pain in his chest, grimacing as he looked at his father: "Please take care of your health. Don't be angry...."
Seeing him like this, Shinjuro, who had been about to confront Taka, was suddenly stunned. His raised fist lifted and fell several times. Finally, he viciously snorted:
".....Take your friends and get lost! Don't get in my way!"
Having said that, without looking back, he muttered some incoherent drunken words and stormed into the inner chamber.
The courtyard was left with only the mess and a suffocating silence. The thick smell of alcohol and the sorrow of self-abandonment lingered long.
When his figure completely disappeared behind the door, Shinobu finally breathed a silent sigh of relief. Somewhat displeased, she turned to Taka, thinking he shouldn't have been so rash as to defy a senior.
But she saw that Taka's gaze had never once looked in Shinjuro's direction. Instead, he crouched down, his gaze firm as he looked at Kyojuro.
Sunlight shone on the two of them, casting a faint halo, as if trying to dispel the gloom.
"I will learn Flame Breathing. No matter what anyone says."
"Kyojuro, you are you. Your father is your father. His weakness cannot represent you."
"Stand up. Heal well. Let's kill Muzan together and prove it to him."
His words were not impassioned. They were exactly what he thought.
Regarding Shinjuro's worthless theory, he hadn't taken it to heart at all.
The value of power is defined by the one who wields it, by the enemies it cuts down.
He didn't need to understand Shinjuro's psychological trauma. Since the other party was unwilling to help him, he only needed to proceed from other directions.
The goal must be achieved.
Kyojuro looked up at Taka. The gold-red flames in his firm eyes once again ignited.
Although the flames still bore traces of heartache, they were purer and more scorching than before.
"Well said! Taka!" He bloomed into a smile befitting the Flame Hashira and firmly responded: "Then let's start today!"
"Today?" Shinobu's brow jumped, 'These two both loved to act so recklessly.'
"Exactly! There are three Flame Breathing instruction manuals. Better to start reading them early! Haha!"
Sunlight streamed into the historic courtyard, glinting on the sake pooled in the shattered flask fragments.
Within the Rengoku Residence, amidst the roaring wind, a new flame was quietly being nurtured.