Chapter 37: Hashira Meeting
As soon as Akira and Kanae stepped outside, her father, Kochou Sawaki, had intended to properly introduce his family. But the sight of his younger daughter, Shinobu, huddled tightly in Kanae's arms, gave him pause.
Seeing the delicate situation, Akira offered a soft smile. "I still have some things to attend to, so I'll be leaving for now. I'll come back tomorrow during the day."
"Yes," Kanae replied, her voice filled with gratitude. "Thank you."
The timing was clearly not right. Akira decided it was best to return to his grandfather's grave and offer a proper farewell; their previous conversation had been cut short by the appearance of Lower Rank Three. This would also give the Kochou family some private time to process the monumental changes to their lives. Besides, they now knew everything they needed to. There was no running from this new reality.
After seeing Akira off, Kochou Hanako turned to her husband, her expression etched with worry. "What's happening?"
"It's hard to say if it's a good thing or a bad thing..." Sawaki's own feelings were a tangled mess. Joining the Demon Slayer Corps meant protection, a shield against the random cruelty of a passing demon. From what Akira had described, doctors within the Corps were treated exceptionally well; his family would be able to live comfortably.
The only real downside was the restriction of their freedom. They would be accompanied whenever they went out—a measure that was as much for their protection as it was for surveillance, to prevent any leaks of information about the Corps or the demons they fought.
It was precisely this loss of freedom that created a chronic shortage of physicians in the Demon Slayer Corps. The entire Medical Department was currently being propped up by two white-haired, elderly men who were nearing the end of their lives. After all, while the Ubuyashiki family was wealthy, what truly skilled doctor in this era was short on money?
The physicians who served the Corps were either trained by the Ubuyashiki family themselves or, like the Kochous, were survivors who had been tragically swept into the world of demons. However, medical knowledge was a closely guarded family secret, passed down through generations. The techniques the Ubuyashiki family could procure were relatively basic., injuries inflicted by demons were a world apart from ordinary wounds, often laced with potent toxins that a common physician would be utterly helpless against. This grim reality had led to a severe deficit of truly competent doctors.
Now that Akira had met the Kochou family and witnessed their medical expertise firsthand, he had every reason to bring them into the fold. Whether it was to soothe the regrets from his past life's memories or to drastically improve the Demon Slayer Corps' current dire situation, he could not let them go.
Besides, he thought with a pragmatic edge, having a good doctor on call meant he would receive better treatment if he was injured on a mission. This was a matter of his own survival.
Having left the Kochou residence, Akira put their family discussions out of his mind. He relayed the necessary information to the Kakushi who had arrived to clean up the aftermath of the battle, then made his way back to Kanzaki Keizan's grave.
He leaned against the cool stone of the tombstone. "I'm back," he murmured. "Grandpa, your grandson killed a Lower Rank demon this time. When I get back to headquarters, I'll be promoted to a Hashira. How about that? Pretty amazing, right?"
He let out a soft sigh. "But it was still a Lower Rank. I got injured saving a girl… it's the first time that's happened since I started hunting demons."
A small, wry smile touched his lips. "Still, I saved someone. A very beautiful girl, at that. So I guess it wasn't a loss."
Akira continued to speak, his voice a low murmur against the quiet backdrop of the cemetery as the sky gradually brightened. As the first rays of the morning sun broke over the horizon, he finally bid his grandfather farewell. He returned to the small town for a brief rest, changed out of his torn uniform, and once again set out towards the Kochou family's home.
Just as he was setting off, Ink Shadow, his Kasugai Crow, flew back, landing on his right shoulder with an exhausted pant. The crow cawed out its message: Akira was to settle the Kochou family into the Medical Department and then immediately proceed to the Demon Slayer Corps headquarters for a Hashira Meeting.
"You've worked hard," Akira said, reaching up to gently stroke the crow's head.
Since joining him, Ink Shadow had been pushed to its limits. Akira's high frequency of missions, the vast distances he covered, and his blistering travel speed had kept the bird constantly on the move. Fortunately, the Corps had dedicated staff for feeding the crows, and the highly nutritious food they provided had kept Ink Shadow from collapsing. In fact, the high-intensity flying had only made it stronger.
By the time Akira ambled up to the Kochou family's house, two carriages were already parked outside. The Kakushi waiting by the vehicles immediately spotted him, dismounted, and dropped to one knee in a salute.
"Lord Sound Hashira!"
Although Akira's promotion had yet to be officially announced at the meeting, the Kakushi were the best-informed members of the Corps. They naturally knew that slaying a Lower Rank demon guaranteed his ascension to Hashira, and that his title, following the lineage of Thunder Breathing, would be the Sound Hashira.
Akira himself didn't mind inheriting the title. The thought of having to come up with one on his own was a daunting task for someone as bad with names as he was. Still, seeing the Kakushi kneeling before him felt strange and unfamiliar.
"Get up," he said, his tone gentle but firm. "I don't care much for ceremony. A simple greeting is fine. There's no need to kneel."
"Thank you, Lord Sound Hashira!"
As the Kakushi rose, the front door of the house opened. The Kochou family emerged, having just finished packing. Sawaki had evidently prepared his wife and daughters last night. Though a hint of reluctance lingered in Hanako and Kanae's eyes, they remained silent. Only young Shinobu, the youngest of the family, still had the ghost of tears shimmering in her eyes. Leaving the only home she had ever known was a sorrowful affair for a child.
After completing the introductions that had been cut short the previous night, Akira was now formally acquainted with the entire family. He glanced at the bundles they carried. "Is everything packed? If there's anything else you need to bring that's too inconvenient to carry, I can have someone help."
"There isn't much," Sawaki replied, shaking his head. "Just some clothes, medicinal herbs, and our medical texts. It's all packed."
Seeing they were ready, Akira said no more and gestured for them to board the carriages. The three women took one, while Akira and Sawaki sat in the other with the luggage. The two carriages then set off, one after the other, toward the Demon Slayer Corps' Medical Department.
The journey was uneventful. As the sun began to set, the carriages finally came to a stop. Akira hopped out first, effortlessly grabbing a large bundle in each hand. Sawaki followed, carrying the last of their belongings.
Perhaps it was the efficacy of Sawaki's medicine, or perhaps it was Akira's own body, fortified by his Breathing Style, but the wound on his left shoulder no longer ached. The bundles, which would have been heavy for an ordinary person, felt lighter than his usual training weights, and he felt no discomfort from the injury at all.
The Kochou family, walking behind him, watched in stunned silence. They had all seen the wound with their own eyes. Though it was a graze from a sharp weapon, it had been deep.
Because their information had been relayed to the Corps the night before, accommodations had already been prepared. As they entered the Medical Department building, a staff member came to greet them, took their luggage, and led them to their new rooms.
By the time the Kochou family was settled, night had completely fallen. Akira decided to stay at the Medical Department overnight, preparing to attend the Hashira Meeting the next day.
...
The following morning, as the Kochou family began to familiarize themselves with their new environment, Akira set out on the path to the Ubuyashiki Estate.
When he arrived, Ubuyashiki Kagaya was already standing in the garden before the house. Opposite him, Himejima Gyoumei and Rengoku Shinjuro had also arrived. The actual Hashira Meeting, Akira noted, was far less formal than he remembered from the stories. There was no respectful kneeling before the Master; both Hashira were seated comfortably on the veranda floor.
"Brother Kagaya, Master Gyoumei," Akira said with a respectful bow, then turned to the other man. "And you must be Senior Rengoku. It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Kanzaki Akira."
At his arrival, both Gyoumei and Shinjuro stood up.
"A pleasure to meet you, young man!" Shinjuro's voice was a cheerful, booming baritone. "You truly are the disciple that old Kuwajima couldn't stop bragging about! To slay a Lower Rank demon at your age… you're far more impressive than I was back then, or my own son for that matter."
Rengoku Shinjuro was the very picture of his son from Akira's memories. He had bright yellow hair that exploded into fiery red tips, a style that resembled an owl from a distance, and his yellow-red eyes seemed to burn with an inner fire. Even his bold, hearty personality was identical to the future Flame Hashira. They were truly father and son.
"Senior Rengoku, you flatter me," Akira replied with a modest smile. "I merely have a bit of talent."
"No need to be modest!" Shinjuro clapped a heavy hand on Akira's shoulder. "Slaying a Lower Rank demon on your own, and in a short amount of time from what I hear, is more than enough to prove your strength."
"Amitabha," Gyoumei added from the side, his deep voice connecting with calm. "To have grown to this extent in just over a year… your talent is indeed formidable, Akira."
Akira looked at Gyoumei's increasingly strong physique, a living mountain of muscle, and found himself at a loss for words. How was one supposed to respond to a man whose physical talent was already maxed out?
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