10 Vol. III Demon Slayer: Floating Comment

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Haruto stared in shock at Tanjiro, who was lying limp on the futon. "What happened to my little apprentice this time?"

Tanjiro looked utterly drained, sprawled across the bedding. Genya scratched his head awkwardly.

"I think it's because he tried to switch breathing techniques too forcefully. He kept mumbling something about his lungs feeling like they were going to explode..."

"Breathing techniques?" Haruto's eyes widened. "The Breath of the Sun?"

"I think so. I heard him call it the Hinokami Kagura..."

"Whoa?" Haruto's initial excitement quickly gave way to a sobering realization.

Switching between two distinct breathing styles was undoubtedly taxing on the body. But if Tanjiro could already use the Breath of the Sun, did that mean his own Star Breathing would be rendered obsolete?

Haruto buried his head in his hands, groaning dramatically.

"Does this mean… I'll have to find another protégé?"

The journey to find a successor was long and thorny, full of setbacks...

The Breath of the Sun truly lived up to its reputation as the progenitor of all breathing techniques. Even though Tanjiro had yet to fully master it, the few moves he demonstrated contained mysteries so profound that Haruto was left in awe.

But still...

Haruto glanced at the indigo-blue blade in his hand, a hint of regret clouding his expression.

Neither he, Urokodaki-sensei, nor Giyu could glean the essence of the technique from Tanjiro's demonstrations. All they could do was shake their heads and sigh.

To compensate for his own inability to use the Breath of the Sun, Haruto doubled Tanjiro and Genya's training regimen. From now on, Haruto vowed, their bodies would be so thoroughly exhausted each night that even lifting a single finger would be a herculean task.

As for Haruto himself, he decided to pour all his energy into mastering the Transparent World—without accidentally making himself cross-eyed in the process.

But how?

How could he reach that elusive, translucent realm?

The summer storm clouds gathered in an instant.

On the edge of a windswept cliff, a white-haired swordsman sat silently, gazing at the dense, dark clouds churning in the sky.

White-haired swordsman?

Haruto looked down at himself, at the delicate feathers covering his form. Realization struck. He was dreaming.

He flapped his wings, braving the gale, and landed steadily on the swordsman's shoulder.

The swordsman turned, and Haruto was startled to find that the man's face bore an uncanny resemblance to his own. Or rather, Haruto's face bore an uncanny resemblance to his.

Same white hair. Same striking blue eyes. But the swordsman's hair was longer, cascading over his shoulders, lending him an air of effortless elegance.

He wore a straw raincoat draped over his shoulders, a Nichirin blade at his waist. The blade's hilt was wrapped with a cord intertwining white and yellow.

Was this... Kazuma?

Haruto recalled that his mentor, Gotokawa, had once mentioned his grandfather, Takasago Kazuma, was a Thunder Breathing swordsman.

"It's going to rain," Kazuma said softly, brushing Haruto's head with a calloused finger. "Will you be able to find your way back home?"

Home?

"Caw! Caw!"

Oh. So I'm a Crow in this dream.

"The direction you face… leads to the sea."

"Ka-zu-ma!" A distant voice called out, drawing closer.

Kazuma rose to his feet and turned toward the sound. A boy with short eyebrows came running, breathless.

"Why are you sitting here?"

"I'm waiting for the lightning," Kazuma replied simply.

'Waiting for lightning?' Haruto tilted his head, puzzled.

"Waiting for lightning?" The boy was equally confused. "But if there's lightning, there'll be rain! You'll get soaked!"

"That's why I'm wearing a raincoat."

"..."

Haruto resisted the urge to cover his face with his wings.

So this is where Giyu gets it from! Turns out my ancestor wasn't any better at conversation!

The boy blinked at Kazuma, visibly exasperated, before heaving a resigned sigh.

"You're not wearing a hat," Kazuma added, handing the boy a straw hat he had beside him. "At least your head won't get wet."

The boy, whom Kazuma called Ryotsu, reluctantly took the hat. Haruto studied him closely. The resemblance to Gotokawa was undeniable.

"And what about you?" Ryotsu asked, adjusting the hat on his head.

"I'll keep watching the lightning strike."

Ryotsu hesitated before sitting beside him. Together, they watched the roiling black clouds.

After a while, Ryotsu broke the silence, his voice hesitant.

"Kazuma, why don't you want to become the Thunder Pillar? Your skills are more than enough. Even Master Furukawa said he's ready to step down—so why did you refuse?"

Kazuma tilted his head slightly, a faint smile gracing his lips.

"Because Hanae is pregnant."

"What? Already?" Ryotsu's eyes widened in shock. "You've only been married for three months!"

"I want to spend more time with her," Kazuma said softly, lowering his gaze. "I can't take on the duties of a Pillar. But I won't leave the Demon Slayer Corps. I'll still carry out missions as assigned."

Ryotsu blinked at him, then sighed. "Ah… but won't people criticize you for this?"

Kazuma remained silent for a moment. "It doesn't matter."

Doesn't matter? Haruto thought, skeptical. He knew all too well the harsh words people whispered behind Kazuma's back.

"After all the effort the previous Thunder Pillar put into training him, he abandons it all for a woman?"
"Exactly! And he claims he'll still take on missions. Clearly, he just doesn't want to give up the perks of the job!"
"Pretty boys like him can't be trusted!"

Jerks! Kazuma's contributions to the Corps are worth more than all of yours combined!

Haruto watched the two intently, his curiosity piqued.

So Kazuma had been strong enough to become a Pillar...

And Hanae? Was she his grandmother?

But what was the point of this dream? Surely it wasn't just to hear old family gossip.

As if on cue, Kazuma raised his head and said to Ryotsu, "Even if I can't become a Pillar, you can."

"What kind of joke is that?" Ryotsu shot up, his face flushing red. "Pillars don't just grow on trees! So many people sacrifice themselves to slay demons, yet only nine make it—sometimes not even that!"

Kazuma seemed taken aback by the outburst but then smiled gently.

"You can do it. You have an incredible sense of focus. You're able to discern the tempering of steel just by watching it burn."

"What does that have to do with becoming a Pillar? My dad's a swordsmith. Of course I've picked up a thing or two from watching him work!"

"That's the prerequisite," Kazuma said calmly. "The key to entering the Transparent World is a combination of skill and focus."

"…Ah, the lightning's coming."

Kazuma stood and faced the cliff edge, the wind tossing his long hair wildly.

Haruto flapped his wings, trailing closely behind.

"Stay calm. Focus entirely on it," Kazuma murmured. "Let your eyes trace its form. Whether it's a demon… or lightning itself."

Suddenly, he dashed forward, chasing the lightning's path.

A deafening crack split the air as a massive bolt struck, turning the earth below into a storm of light and sound.

Clad in his raincoat, Kazuma moved with uncanny precision, always arriving just beside where the lightning struck. His blade danced through the storm, slicing through the chaos as if painting strokes on the sky.

Haruto's heart raced as he watched, captivated. Kazuma was a dancer in the tempest, performing a wild symphony with the storm.

After what felt like an eternity, the downpour arrived, drenching the land.

Kazuma sprinted back, grabbing Ryotsu with one hand and Haruto with the other, and dashed for shelter.

From Haruto's beak came a voice, coarse and commanding:

"Tokyo Prefecture, Shinagawa's red-light district! A demon has been sighted! Takasago Kazuma, you are ordered to investigate immediately!"

Haruto's heart clenched.

Shinagawa's red-light district…

No. Don't go...