"You should commit seppuku!"
"It's your fault that demon escaped!"
"You're a sinner, the root of all this misery—you don't deserve to live!"
"How can the Demon Slayer Corps harbor scum like you?"
Ren never imagined that the nightmares haunting him for years would manifest in reality.
They pointed at him, venomous words spilling from their mouths. This time, their faces weren't blurred; they were the familiar visages of those he once trusted.
At the Oyakata-sama's mansion, Ren saw the Hashira surrounding Yoriichi Tsugikuni, hurling vile insults without restraint.
Yoriichi stood with his head bowed, silent.
Ren wanted to rush forward to defend his master, but the crowd's attention shifted to him, as if he were a fresh target.
"You're the one who let Muzan Kibutsuji escape!"
The Sound Hashira charged forward, seizing Ren's collar, eyes blazing with fury. "How dare you show your face? You and your master are the Corps' disgrace! If not for you, Muzan would be dead! The Oyakata-sama wouldn't have died! You deserve death!"
Yoriichi, who had endured the barrage in silence, finally moved when the Sound Hashira laid hands on Ren. In an instant, he was at the Hashira's side, gripping his wrist.
"What are you doing?"
The Sound Hashira's forehead pulsed with veins, and the other Hashira drew their Nichirin Blades, encircling Yoriichi and Ren.
Seeing the wariness and hostility in their eyes, Ren felt a profound alienation. Was this still the world he knew?
Why did it feel like he and his master had become enemies of the world?
What heinous crime had they committed?
Why were they branded as sinners?
"Michikatsu Yagatsu killed the Oyakata-sama, not my master!"
Ren glared at the Sound Hashira.
The Hashira sneered. "Michikatsu Yagatsu is his brother. Yoriichi brought him into the Corps, and you two were always closest to him. You dare say it's unrelated?"
"And wasn't it you who let Muzan Kibutsuji escape? Now that I think about it, maybe you were in cahoots all along! Why did Michikatsu turn demon and kill the Oyakata-sama at this exact moment? Why did you fail to kill Muzan when you faced him? How could there be such a coincidence?"
Ren's chest burned with rage, but he had no outlet for it.
He looked at the once-familiar faces around him, finding their accusations absurd.
These people, wielding the Breathing Styles his master developed, now dared to judge them.
He'd given everything to kill Muzan Kibutsuji, even ruining his body, only to be labeled a sinner.
"You're not worthy to judge us."
Ren shoved the Sound Hashira back, turning to the crowd. "None of you are."
"What did you say, brat?"
Ren stepped forward, locking eyes with the Sound Hashira. "If only you'd faced Muzan Kibutsuji first. With an idiot like you as bait, I might've killed him."
"Say that again, you punk."
The Sound Hashira's hand rested on his Nichirin Blade.
"Feeling tough now?" Ren said. "Why didn't you kill Michikatsu Yagatsu when he attacked the Corps, huh? Sound Hashira? What a laughable title. Isn't the Breathing Style you use one my master created? Don't you feel ashamed bearing that 'Sound' name?"
"And you lot!"
Ren turned to the others, his gaze icy. "Before you demand my master and I commit seppuku, find a blade and end yourselves first. Without the Breathing Styles, you'd all be dead by demon hands. You wouldn't even have the chance to stand here accusing us!"
…
"Brother, are we leaving?"
"Yeah, we're leaving."
"Where to?"
"Don't know. Anywhere but here."
At the entrance to the Corps' headquarters, Ren glanced back at the place he'd called home for years. "We'll never return."
Ren left. After what happened, he couldn't stay in the Demon Slayer Corps.
His words to the Hashira had silenced most of them, sparing him and Yoriichi further harassment. The Sound Hashira and a few others remained resentful, but they didn't dare act against Ren again.
They chose to leave the Corps.
Yoriichi approached from another direction. On his master's ever-calm face, Ren sensed a trace of sorrow.
"I'm sorry. I've dragged you into this."
Yoriichi spoke like a child admitting fault, his eyes filled with guilt.
"My brother became a demon, and I failed to seize the one chance to kill Muzan. If I'd been faster…"
"Master, if anyone's to blame, it's me. I was too weak…" Ren's eyes burned with frustration.
"No, you did more than enough."
Yoriichi knew Ren had truly given his all.
Had he been there, the outcome might have been the same.
The only chance to kill Muzan lay in those final strikes, but they hadn't been enough to finish him, allowing him to escape.
Yoriichi knew they might never get such an opportunity again.
"Brother, Master Yoriichi!"
Chitoshi blinked, his voice bright. "Forget these unhappy thoughts! Brother, didn't you always say you wanted to see the world? Now we finally have the chance!"
Ren took a deep breath. "You're right, Chitoshi."
He turned to Yoriichi. "Master, where are we headed next?"
Where?
Yoriichi looked up at the blazing sun overhead, his expression slightly dazed.
"This is where Uta and I once lived."
They walked through a deep mountain forest, Yoriichi supporting the injured Ren, his eyes lost in memory.
Ren smiled faintly. "Mistress Uta must have been as gentle as you, Master."
"Yes."
Perhaps recalling the years spent here with Uta, a smile returned to Yoriichi's face.
"We lived here for ten years. If not for demons, I might have stayed with her forever."
At this, both Yoriichi and Ren fell silent.
Demons—how many families, how many lives had been shattered by their existence?
"We're here."
After a short walk, a house appeared before them.
The owner, hearing their approach, stepped out cautiously. Upon seeing Yoriichi, his wariness turned to excitement. "My benefactor!"