24 Vol. II Demon Slayer: Floating Comment

After leaving headquarters, Haruto had expected the postponed mid-year meeting to happen soon. However, it wasn't until three months later, in autumn, that he saw Kagaya Ubuyashiki again.

"Ubuyashiki-sama."

The Hashira knelt on one knee in unison, each one eager to be the first to greet their leader.

Sanemi, who managed to speak first, wore a triumphant smirk, as if he'd just won some internal competition among the Hashira. Haruto glanced around, surprised to spot the boy he'd seen before—the one who bore the legacy of the Tokito family: Muichiro Tokito.

The boy knelt silently at the edge of the group, his expression unreadable—not cold, exactly, but detached, as though nothing in the world could trouble him. His gaze wandered skyward, counting clouds or tracing the path of passing birds.

Suddenly, Muichiro's ear twitched, and he turned to meet Haruto's eyes.

Ah, what a warm smile. Those misty blue eyes were stunning.

Muichiro stared back, dazed, as if lost in thought. Kagaya had introduced the man earlier, hadn't he?

Among the white-haired swordsmen, there were three. One was a loud and excitable man who spoke as though addressing a crowd. Another had a wolfish, piercing gaze and an intimidating air. And then there was this one—bright-eyed, his gentle expression almost reminiscent of a deer.

Who was he again?

Forget it. He'd probably forget soon anyway. Muichiro turned his head away, resuming his cloud counting.

Hmm...what number was I on? Oh well.

Haruto raised an eyebrow slightly. Airheaded, huh?

And seriously, what was with the Ubuyashiki family? Why make this kid wear clothes so oversized that his hands disappeared into the sleeves?

Meanwhile, Kagaya acknowledged the greetings with a voice as soothing as a gentle rain, calming the hearts of the Hashira.

"My apologies," he began, "My health tends to worsen in the summer. I'm grateful for your patience these past months."

"Amida Buddha," Gyomei Himejima muttered, tears streaming silently down his face. "No matter how hard we work, it pales in comparison to the importance of your well-being."

"Please, don't say that..." Kagaya replied softly.

After a brief exchange of pleasantries, Kagaya gestured toward Muichiro, who was still lost in his thoughts.

"This is Muichiro Tokito, the new Mist Hashira. He uses the Breath of Mist."

The lively atmosphere suddenly stilled. All eyes turned to the young swordsman, who looked barely older than a child.

"He's practically a kid!" Kanae exclaimed, covering her mouth in surprise.

Haruto hesitated. "Muichiro...has only been training for a few months, right?"

"Two months," Kagaya replied with a gentle smile. "His growth is truly astonishing."

The Hashira exchanged incredulous glances, most left speechless.

Even Tengen Uzui, who usually brimmed with flamboyance, lowered his head, subdued. This quiet, unassuming boy had a talent so overwhelming it bordered on unnatural.

Oblivious to their thoughts, Muichiro glanced briefly at Kagaya as he was introduced, then turned his attention back to counting blades of grass.

Once the meeting ended, the Hashira walked shoulder to shoulder out of the hall. Muichiro trailed behind, silently observing them.

"Want to grab a bite to eat?"

The soft voice made him look up. It was a young man in a tri-colored haori patterned like rippling water. His smile was warm and inviting.

Sabito...right? One of the Water Hashira. He seemed gentle, harmless—like a rabbit.

"No, thank you. I need to practice my swordsmanship," Muichiro replied flatly.

"A new comrade deserves at least one welcoming meal," Sabito insisted, still smiling. "Ubuyashiki-sama entrusted us with looking after you."

Haruto chimed in, cutting off Muichiro's escape. "Strong bonds between us are crucial. On the battlefield, trust is everything. Isn't that right? Everyone's eager to get to know you better!"

Ahead, Kanae turned and offered an encouraging smile.

Muichiro hesitated. "Is that really necessary?"

"Of course!" Haruto grinned. "The food at headquarters is fantastic—especially today. Gyomei's treating us all!"

Before he could protest further, Haruto and Sabito exchanged a conspiratorial glance, then gently but firmly guided him along with the group.

As they neared the dining hall, Haruto spotted a familiar figure.

Bright red and yellow hair, spiked like flames—a head like that could only belong to one person.

"Rengoku!" Haruto called out. "Rengoku Kyojuro!"

But the man didn't react.

Haruto frowned. Did he have the wrong person? Was there another flame-haired swordsman in the Corps?

Finally, a teammate nudged Kyojuro, who turned with his trademark radiant smile.

"Haruto!" he greeted enthusiastically.

His voice was so loud it startled Haruto, who rubbed his ear.

"Hey! Are you trying to deafen me? You sound like an old lady who's hard of hearing!"

Kyojuro scratched his head sheepishly. "Ah, my hearing really isn't great these days."

"What?" Haruto blinked.

"During my first demon hunt, I encountered one that disrupted nerves with its flute-like sound."

"So your ears were damaged in the fight?" Haruto tilted Kyojuro's head to inspect his ears.

"Exactly! Just a minor injury—not a big deal!" Kyojuro assured him.

"Not exactly," his teammate murmured. "He ruptured his own eardrums to block the sound and defeat the demon."

Haruto froze, his hand still on Kyojuro's head. His chest tightened as he stared at the ever-cheerful young man.

Even Sabito and Giyu seemed momentarily at a loss for words.

Meanwhile, Muichiro glanced at Kyojuro, his attention drawn by the exchange.

Hmm. He looks like an owl.

"Kyojuro!" Haruto clapped him on the shoulder. "You killed that demon, right?"

"Of course!" Kyojuro beamed. "I severed its head cleanly—like slicing through a training dummy!"

Haruto smiled, pulling a jar of dried apricots from his pocket and placing it in Kyojuro's hands.

"Your father was wrong about one thing," he said firmly. "The Rengoku legacy will never fade. You, your brother—you're both the embodiment of the Flame Breathing spirit."

Kyojuro's eyes sparkled, bright as the sun, as he watched his comrades head into the dining hall.

Popping a dried apricot into his mouth, he grinned to himself.

"Haruto," he murmured. "You too...will always carry the Flame Breathing legacy forward."