The sun rose, spilling golden light across the land.
Mount Natagumo finally welcomed long-lost peace.
After the large-scale extermination, every demon on the mountain had been wiped out by the Demon Slayer Corps.
But the Corps had paid a heavy price.
Many swordsmen had fallen.
Many more were gravely injured, poisoned, and in desperate need of treatment—
Including Zenitsu Agatsuma.
Wrapped head to toe like a mummy by the Kakushi, only his eyes exposed, a tag labeled "Treatment Complete" stuck to his body, he sat there in a daze while his little sparrow perched on his head.
"Chirp! Chirp!"
Zenitsu blinked at the figures rushing back and forth in front of him.
Who were these people?
They moved so quickly—efficient, silent, expertly cleaning up the aftermath.
Kanao Tsuyuri stood among them, directing the Kakushi with calm composure.
Zenitsu recognized her.
Final Selection at Mount Fujikasane.
Back then, while he had been terrified out of his wits, she had stood there quietly, unshaken.
And—
Her hair ornament looked almost identical to the one worn by the girl who had wrapped them up earlier.
"These injured ones are being sent to the Butterfly Mansion as well?" someone asked.
Kanao nodded lightly. "Yes. All the wounded will be sent there."
The ones bustling about were the Kakushi—the clean-up unit responsible for handling the aftermath of battles between Demon Slayers and demons.
Most of them were members without the talent for swordsmanship.
In the forest, they found Inosuke Hashibira lying on his back.
Because of the boar mask on his head, they hesitated at first.
They poked it with a branch to confirm he was human before hoisting him over a shoulder and carrying him away.
Inosuke, regaining consciousness, sank into rare self-reflection.
Was he… not strong enough?
He hadn't slain a single demon on that mountain.
On his own, he had accomplished nothing.
Instead, he'd been beaten so badly he couldn't even move.
His pride—his razor-sharp dual blades—
Had been sliced clean through by mere silver threads.
Right.
Tanjiro's blade had broken too, when he tried to save him.
Zenitsu, leaning against a tree, lowered his head in thought.
The sparrow chirped again, urging him to look up—
To see the bright, colorful sky.
Was it… finally over?
The wounded were transported back to Headquarters for treatment.
Tanjiro and Nezuko, however—
Were being taken back for judgment by the Hashira.
Aoyama knew this clearly.
And this time—
No matter what—
He would not allow that incident to happen.
Tanjiro, who had been knocked unconscious by Giyu Tomioka, hovered in that hazy space between sleep and waking.
A voice echoed in his ears.
Who was it?
Zenitsu?
Senior Brother Aoyama?
No… it wasn't either of them.
"Hey! Wake up! Wake up already!"
"Oi! Get up! Wake up, I'm talking to you!"
The voice grew louder, more impatient.
"How long are you going to sleep?! Hurry up and wake up!"
Unable to endure the relentless shouting, Tanjiro jolted awake—
Pain exploded through his entire body.
He realized he was lying face-down on the ground, hands bound behind his back.
His foggy mind cleared instantly.
He'd been knocked out by Mr. Tomioka!
He jerked his head up—
Crack.
A sharp pain shot through his neck.
And what he saw before him made his heart pound.
A line of figures stood in front of him.
Shinobu Kocho was among them.
"Hey! You're standing before the Hashira!"
Tanjiro's heart clenched.
These—
These were the Hashira.
The strongest swordsmen of the Demon Slayer Corps.
But—
Where was Nezuko?
The crow's order had said both of them were to be brought back.
Where was she?!
He struggled to sit up—
Only to be slammed back down by the Kakushi who had awakened him.
Pain surged through his body, stealing his breath.
"What's this? I was expecting someone impressive. Turns out he's just an ordinary brat."
The voice carried obvious disappointment.
The speaker was none other than Tengen Uzui, the Sound Hashira.
"Very well! We shall now begin the trial of this boy!"
The fiery, booming voice belonged to Kyojuro Rengoku, wielder of Flame Breathing.
Nearby stood a sweet-faced girl with long, wavy pink hair—
Mitsuri Kanroji, the Love Hashira.
Her pale green eyes shimmered as she looked at Tanjiro.
In her heart, admiration and sympathy bloomed.
To protect his demon-turned sister all this time…
How beautiful. How brave.
Such wonderful sibling love!
Tanjiro forced his head up again.
"Y-you all—"
Before he could finish, the Kakushi forced his head back down, pressing his cheek against the gravel.
"No interrupting, idiot! Do you even know who you're standing before? These are the Hashira!"
To the Kakushi, the Hashira were sacred—untouchable.
Interrupting them was unthinkable.
Shinobu stepped forward gently.
"This is the Demon Slayer Corps Headquarters. You are to be judged."
Her smile remained soft.
"The trial of swordsman Kamado Tanjiro—for traveling with his demon sister, Nezuko."
Tanjiro shook off the hand pressing his head down and raised his gaze, eyes locking onto Shinobu.
What should he do?
For Nezuko—
What could he possibly do now?
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