[Three Days Earlier, Mt.
Sagiri Summit]
The moonlight spilled across the ground like water.
Shinsuke sat cross-legged with a slender black-haired girl leaning against him.
Makomo tilted her head, pale-green eyes full of curiosity.
“Shinsuke, you seem…
like something’s on your mind today?”
Shinsuke poked her on the forehead.
“Okay~ then, can you tell me what you’re thinking about?”
Shinsuke didn’t laugh it off the way he usually would.
He looked at Makomo quietly, for a long time, long enough that she started fidgeting with her fingers out of unease.
“Makomo,” he finally said, his voice soft.
“Would you be willing to…
stay by my side forever?”
Makomo froze.
Her face flushed red in an instant and she waved her hands in a fluster.
“Shin…
Shinsuke!
What are you suddenly saying!
I’m a ghost, there’s no way I could…”
“Not in the way you are now.” Shinsuke cut her off gently, his gaze dropping to the Tang Blade at his hip.
“My blade…
can nurture souls.”
Makomo went still.
She blinked, and something seemed to click.
“You mean…” she asked quietly, “like a blade spirit?”
Shinsuke nodded.
“That way, you could always be with me.
Fight alongside me, protect me…
and I would protect you.”
He paused, then added, “Of course, if you don’t want to, I would never force you.
You can stay here, and whenever I have time, I’ll come back to see you…”
“I want to.”
Makomo said it with almost no hesitation at all.
Her voice was soft, but completely steady.
Shinsuke was the one who was caught off guard.
“You…
don’t want to think it over a little more?
Once you’re inside the blade, it might…”
“I know.” Makomo smiled, and her smile was as gentle as moonlight.
She reached up and carefully lifted the fox mask she always wore at the side of her head.
It was the thing she had treasured most when she was alive.
The one Master had carved for her was lost at the Final Selection, so this one she had made herself.
She held it out to Shinsuke with both hands.
“This is for you,” she said softly.
“Wear it, and it’ll be like carrying me with you.”
Shinsuke stared at her for a long moment before accepting it with quiet solemnity.
The next second, Makomo’s figure began to glow with a faint, soft light.
She held Shinsuke’s gaze one last time, and there was no fear in her eyes, no hesitation, only deep, unguarded trust and…
love.
Then she dissolved into a stream of light and flew toward the Tang Blade at his waist, slipping soundlessly into the blade itself.
The blade trembled faintly and let out a soft hum.
A pink glow drifted along the scabbard for a moment, then slowly faded to still.
Shinsuke looked down at the fox mask in his hands, then rested his fingers on the hilt.
A faint warmth reached him from within.
“Welcome,” he said quietly.
“To my side.”
[Now, Mt.
Sagiri Cabin]
Urokodaki stared at the mask in Shinsuke’s hand, his aged fingers trembling slightly.
“This mask…” his voice came out a little dry.
“Where did you…?”
“Master,” Shinsuke said gently, cutting him off.
“When we come back from the Final Selection, I’ll tell you everything.”
He paused.
“All of it.”
Urokodaki went quiet.
His gaze moved back and forth between the mask and Shinsuke’s face.
After a long moment, he slowly nodded and lowered his own mask.
“…Alright.”
The three days of preparation passed in the blink of an eye.
On the morning of departure, the sky had only just begun to lighten.
Tanjiro put on the blue haori Master had made for him, representing Water Breathing, and fastened the fox mask to the side of his face.
Shinsuke wore a white haori with pink stripes, the Tang Blade hanging at his left hip and the fox mask hooked at his right.
Urokodaki stood in front of the cabin to see them off.
His tengu mask hid his expression, but Tanjiro could smell the worry coming off him clear as anything.
“I’ll take good care of Nezuko while you’re gone, please don’t worry about her.”
“Thank you, Master!” Tanjiro said.
“Don’t look so gloomy.”
Urokodaki shot him a look.
“Who’s gloomy?”
“Your whole body is saying ‘I’m so worried these two idiots are going to get themselves killed on that mountain.'”
Shinsuke grinned.
“Relax, Master, I’ll bring Tanjiro back with me.”
He paused, and the grin softened into something more earnest.
“I’ve trained all this time for exactly this moment.
Even if one of the Twelve Kizuki is waiting up there, I won’t let you lose another student ever again.”
A brief silence settled over them.
Urokodaki looked at Shinsuke for a long moment, then finally let out a low grunt from behind his mask.
“Reckless brat, watch you don’t trip over your own tongue.”
But his voice had gone noticeably softer.
“The fact that you carry that in your heart,” he said quietly, “is enough for this master.”
Shinsuke’s eyes lit up.
“Oh~ Master, you finally called yourself ‘this master!'”
He leaned in a little and winked.
“Does that mean I can tell people I’m your disciple from now on?
‘Personal student of the former Water Hashira, Sakonji Urokodaki,’ sounds pretty impressive, doesn’t it?”
Urokodaki’s mask seemed to stiffen for a beat.
He was quiet for two seconds, then cleared his throat.
“…Ahem.
Unnecessary attention should be avoided.”
Shinsuke burst out laughing.
Tanjiro couldn’t hold it in either.
“Don’t worry, Master!
I won’t hold Senior back, I’ll pass the selection, and I’ll come home alive!”
The morning light grew brighter, falling across the two young faces full of spirit and resolve.
Urokodaki felt like he might cry.
“We’re off, Master!” Shinsuke waved and turned to go.
“Urokodaki-san, we’re heading out!” Tanjiro bowed deeply, then hurried to catch up.
Urokodaki stood where he was and watched their figures grow smaller, further, until they disappeared around the bend in the mountain path.
The wind moved through the trees and rustled his clothes.
He stayed there for a long time, and longer still, unwilling to go inside.
“…You have to come back…
please…”
His whisper scattered into the wind, thick with something held back.
“I’m begging you…”
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