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25 Demon Slayer: Floating Comment
🕑 Added 2025-01-05 20:23:10 +0000 UTCThe house naturally didn't have black pork. Urokodaki Sakonji patted Haruto's head, tucked his hands into his sleeves, and darted up the mountain, moving as gracefully as a blue butterfly.
The sight of his tucked sleeves was oddly familiar, reminding Haruto of his master back in the Swordsmith Village.
His master had a similar habit, although his movements were far less nimble when he ran.
By mid-morning, Sabito had set up the stove, Giyu had prepared the firewood, and Makomo used tongs to pull roasted chestnuts from the hearth. She peeled one open and gently popped it into Haruto's mouth.
The early winter chestnuts were soft and rich, a testament to the two chestnut trees behind the house, which dropped their prickly green husks all over the ground when in season.
Somewhere in the hills, a wild boar had met an unfortunate fate. Soon after, the familiar blue haori appeared on the mountain path, slung over Urokodaki's shoulder, carrying a hefty black boar.
"Boars aren't particularly tasty this time of year," Haruto muttered to himself.
Before winter set in, boars gorged themselves to fatten up for hibernation in sunny, wind-sheltered mountain hollows.
If the unfortunate boar that was unceremoniously dragged from its den could see the look of mild disdain on Haruto's face, it might have charged him out of sheer indignation.
Urokodaki tossed the boar—easily three hundred pounds—onto the ground and swiftly began to bleed it, boil water, and prepare it for butchering.
The resulting feast satisfied Haruto, whose illness had left him craving hearty food. Meanwhile, Makomo, who was set to depart for the Final Selection at Mount Fujikasane the next day, grew visibly anxious.
Her two less-than-reliable senior brothers had packed her provisions—two boar hooves.
Memories of last year's Final Selection were still fresh. Sabito had almost wiped out every demon on the mountain single-handedly.
With no formidable demon like the Hand Demon standing in her way, Makomo's skills were more than enough to handle the rest.
"Here."
Before carrying Haruto back to the cabin, Sabito handed Makomo a string of beads. For once, the boy avoided eye contact, his ears turning a shade of pink that crept up to his earlobes like a blush.
Makomo accepted the beads—a bracelet strung with delicate blue flowers and translucent agate stones.
"What are they doing?"
Giyu squatted near the stretcher, hugging his knees, half of his poker face peeking out as he muttered, "What a weird atmosphere."
His voice wasn't quiet, and Sabito's ears turned an even deeper red. He spun around hastily.
"Let's go, let's go!"
Haruto shot Giyu a deadpan look.
Such a beautiful moment, completely ruined by one comment.
After Makomo left, the once-lively Sagiri Mountain fell quiet.
Sabito and Giyu still trained on the mountain daily or went off on missions.
Every morning, as the sun rose, Sabito would drag Haruto outside, wrap him in a blanket, and cover his face with a towel.
Urokodaki wasn't much of a talker. Most of the time, he sat quietly, watching the mist drift through the mountains.
"I'm planning to step down as the Water Hashira, like Rengoku Shinjuro," Urokodaki mentioned to Haruto one day. "I'm getting too old for it."
"The Demon Slayer Corps has been short on Hashira in recent years," he continued. "Not long ago, the Roaring Hashira, Jigoro Kuwajima, retired after losing a leg. He was a Thunder Breathing user—his speed was akin to Star Breathing. If you ever have the chance, you should visit him in Momoyama."
Haruto nodded weakly. Visiting anyone would have to wait until he recovered. For now, he was still bedridden, wrapped in bandages like a mummy.
Every few days, the Kakushi would deliver medicine. However, this time, two unfamiliar figures appeared at the foot of the mountain.
Urokodaki turned his head and saw two young girls who bore a striking resemblance to each other.
"Excuse me, is this the residence of Takanashi-san?" one of them asked nervously, stopping in their tracks upon seeing Urokodaki's imposing tengu mask.
"Yes," Urokodaki replied with a nod.
"Then… may we…"
Kocho Kanae hesitated, glancing around. Aside from the strange elderly man and the even stranger bandaged figure on the bed, there was no sign of Takanashi-san.
Kocho Shinobu's palms were slightly sweaty. She looked visibly uneasy.
The peculiar old man walked over to the peculiar bandaged figure, pulling the towel from his head.
The young man beneath the bandages stirred groggily. "Hmm? Have you eaten?"
…The difference between the elegant white-haired youth they'd met before and the current mummy-like figure was… substantial.
"Oh!" Shinobu gasped softly, covering her mouth. "Takanashi-san…"
The once-dashing young man was now wrapped head-to-toe in bandages, leaving only his neck exposed, which was covered in severe bruising.
Haruto blinked. "What brings you here?"
He recognized the sisters immediately. During his journey through the Village, he had saved them from a demon attack. Kanae's rare pink eyes and Shinobu's amethyst-like gaze were unforgettable.
The older sister set down the basket she was carrying and bowed.
"We apologize for the sudden visit. I am Kocho Kanae, and this is my sister, Kocho Shinobu."
Shinobu briefly glanced at Haruto before quickly lowering her gaze to the ground.
"After the incident, we were overwhelmed with grief and failed to thank you properly. This time, we've come specifically to express our gratitude."
Kanae's voice was gentle and soothing, like the first thaw of a mountain spring.
She opened the basket, revealing fresh supplies of medicine originally meant to be delivered by the Kakushi.
"We inquired with the Kakushi and volunteered to bring the medicine ourselves," Kanae explained.
"Thank you. The mountain path must have been difficult," Haruto replied.
"It's we who must thank you. Without your help, we might not have survived that day," Kanae said earnestly.
"Please give the medicine to Urokodaki-san. Thank you again," Haruto added, sensing their hesitation and trying to reassure them. "This injury isn't from that incident—it happened later."
When Urokodaki stepped forward to take the basket, Kanae shook her head.
"My sister and I grew up in a medical clinic. We're quite experienced with treating wounds. Please allow us to change your bandages."
Her gaze fell on the amount of medicine in the basket, and her voice wavered.
"I thought this would last for many days…"
Shinobu said nothing but raised her chin defiantly.
Seeing no reason to refuse, Haruto relented.
Thankfully, his broken bones were healing, leaving only partially closed wounds to tend to. Though his body was covered in bruises, they were mostly superficial.
The sisters skillfully unwrapped and redressed his injuries, their deft hands revealing their experience.
Even so, it was a time-consuming task, leaving both girls visibly tired by the end.
After tidying up, they exchanged a glance, appearing slightly nervous.
"It's getting late," Haruto remarked, squinting at the midday sun. "If you don't speak up soon… I might have to insist you stay for lunch."
Urokodaki had already gone inside to prepare. Sabito and Giyu would return soon, and lunch would need to accommodate everyone.
Kanae exhaled softly, her voice as gentle as ever.
"We've been consulting with the Demon Slayer Corps about hunting demons…"
"Please teach us how to fight them!" Shinobu interrupted, her words brimming with determination. The anger in her voice gave her an intensity that starkly contrasted with her sister's gentle demeanor.
Kanae was like a tranquil stream, while Shinobu was a blade unsheathed—unyielding and sharp.
