"…This... this… how is this possible?" Haganezuka's voice trembled, disbelief seeping into every word. "There's never been a colorless Nichirin Blade. Never. This doesn't make any sense-"
"Tch… it's fine. Don't be so dramatic," Kagerou said casually.
He slid the ninjatō back into its sheath and reached instead for the tanto.
The moment the shorter blade left its scabbard, all eyes locked onto it.
Seconds passed.
Nothing changed.
No hue.
No shimmer.
No reaction.
The steel remained the same lifeless silver.
"This…" Haganezuka whispered. The color drained from his face. "…Did I make a mistake?"
His hands trembled as the thought took root.
For the first time since he had begun forging swords, Haganezuka doubted himself.
If one blade had failed to change, perhaps it could be dismissed as an anomaly.
But both?
"That can't be right…" he muttered. "Did I miscalculate the folding? The tempering? The ore..."
His thoughts spiraled.
Never, not even once, did it cross his mind that the problem might lie with Kagerou.
He had seen the man move.
Seen his skill.
His terrifying calm.
In all his years as a swordsmith, Haganezuka could count the number of Demon Slayers like Kagerou on one hand.
"No," Kagerou said quietly.
Haganezuka froze.
"Don't blame yourself, Swordsmith-san," Kagerou continued, his tone even, almost gentle. "If something's wrong… it's probably me"
It sounded like comfort.
But in truth, Kagerou meant it.
More precisely, he suspected his Breathing Style was the cause.
Before he could say anything further-
*KAW!*
A sharp cry cut through the courtyard.
"Kagerou! Kagerou, listen carefully *kaw!* This is your first official mission!"
Every head turned toward the tree not far from the engawa.
The Kasugai Crow perched there, eyes sharp, wings slightly spread.
"…Already?" Kagerou said, glancing up. "I haven't even restocked my tobacco yet"
The crow ignored him completely.
Its head tilted, voice growing urgent.
"Reports of unnatural killings have surfaced in Eastern Honshu! Victims found with wounds resembling gunfire... but no human weapon was involved!"
A brief pause.
The crow's wings twitched.
"Witnesses claim the deaths occurred from long range… bullets curving through the air *kaw!* This is believed to be the work of a high-level demon!"
"…High-level demon," Kagerou echoed.
He let out a slow sigh.
"Kagaya is getting more and more rushed," he muttered. "…But a demon using a gun? That's new"
"Confirmed!" the crow snapped. "Your task is identify the demon, confirm its abilities, and if possible… eliminate it!"
Silence fell.
The wind passed through the courtyard.
"Proceed to the town at once," the Kasugai Crow declared. "Lives are at stake. Return alive"
With one final cry-
*KAW!*
The crow took flight, vanishing into the afternoon sky.
For a moment, silence settled over the engawa.
"Sigh~ I'll go change my clothes," Kagerou said at last.
He stood, slipping the newly forged kiseru into his yukata with practiced ease. The ninjatō and tanto followed, secured at his side.
He paused, glancing back.
"Oh~ Haganezuka, right?"
"O-Oh! Yes!"
"Once again, thanks for these," Kagerou said simply. "They're amazing pieces of work"
Haganezuka stiffened, then straightened his posture.
"No, no, as a swordsmith, it's our honor if what we forge is wielded by a Demon Slayer," he said earnestly. "Especially someone like you, Rengoku-san"
"…Just call me Kagerou," he replied casually. "There are four Rengokus here, you know"
"I-I understand, but I don't think I deserve your tha-"
"As I said," Kagerou cut in calmly, "don't worry about it. I like them. That's all that matters"
He turned toward the hallway.
"Now, excuse me"
Kagerou took a few steps, then stopped.
"Oh, and Kyojuro," he added, glancing back over his shoulder. "Go to the market and buy me some tobacco. You know the place, right?"
"But I thought you already went earlier, Kage-nii?" Kyojuro asked, tilting his head.
"Don't ask," Kagerou said flatly.
He tossed a small pouch into Kyojuro's hands.
"Just go buy it for me. Take Senjuro and Obanai with you. Buy whatever you need with that money"
The moment Kyojuro felt the weight of the pouch, his earlier confusion vanished.
A wide grin spread across his face.
"Let's go!" he declared, immediately grabbing Obanai and Senjuro by the hands. "Come on, Obanai! Senjuro! Let's spend Kage-nii's money!"
And just like that, they were gone.
The laughter faded into the distance.
On the engawa, only Shinjuro and Haganezuka remained.
Haganezuka turned to him slowly.
"Rengoku-san… how old is Kagerou-san again?"
Shinjuro didn't hesitate.
"…Fifteen"
Haganezuka inhaled sharply.
"Fifteen…" he murmured. "His future is endless"
He lowered his gaze to his hands.
"For someone like him to wield a blade I forged… There is no greater honor for a swordsmith"
A pause.
"Now then, Rengoku-san," he said, bowing slightly. "I will also take my leave"
Shinjuro nodded once.
"Hmm. Stay safe, Haganezuka"
Haganezuka returned the bow, then turned and departed the Rengoku residence.
The engawa grew quiet once more.
Shinjuro took a deep breath, lifting his gaze to the open sky above.
"Kage's first official mission, huh…?"
A nostalgic look crossed his face.
For a fleeting moment, his eyes softened, memories threatening to surface, grief threatening to follow. But before tears could form, Shinjuro closed his eyes firmly.
"…Do you see that, Ruka?" he murmured. "Our child has grown up"
The wind stirred gently.
"Can you see it from there?" he continued quietly. "Keep watching us… Let's witness together what changes our child will bring to this broken world"
A pause.
"…I miss you"
With that, Shinjuro turned away from the engawa and disappeared into the house.
#A/N: "..."
--------
- Inside Kagerou's room.
Standing before the mirror, Kagerou adjusted the loose fold of his samue-styled Demon Slayer uniform with practiced ease.
It wasn't the standard attire worn by most slayers, he had requested this design himself, favoring mobility and comfort over formality.
Beneath the uniform, a smoke-gray half-juban peeked out at the collar. Its pattern was subtle, almost invisible unless caught by the light, thin, drifting lines like mist frozen in motion. It softened the sharpness of the uniform, giving him the air of someone who lived between duty and detachment.
A short haori rested over his shoulders, worn open. The cloth was a muted charcoal, its edges slightly frayed, not from neglect, but from use. When he moved, it flowed lightly, as though reluctant to cling to him. The inner lining shimmered faintly, a dull silver, like moonlight trapped within fabric.
His obi was tied low and loose, just firm enough to secure his ninjatō. The blade rested at a casual angle, neither displayed nor concealed, exactly where his hand would fall without conscious thought.
Below, his trousers tapered cleanly into black tabi, wrapped neatly above the ankles. His sandals were simple, dark, and scuffed, chosen by someone who valued silence over appearance.
Kagerou studied his reflection.
Not a warrior dressing for battle.
Not a boy playing at heroism.
Just a man preparing to step back into the mist.
Turning away from the mirror, he approached the table where two kiseru lay side by side, old and new.
After a brief pause, he picked up the newly forged one and tucked it into his kimono, beside the tanto already resting there.
Then he lifted the old kiseru.
Its weight was familiar.
Comforting.
He brought it close to his chest and closed his eyes.
"…Mother," Kagerou murmured. "Pray for me"
For a moment, there was only silence.
Then, unbidden, Kanae's face surfaced in his mind.
Warm.
Gentle.
A small smile formed on his lips.
"Kanae-chan, huh…" he murmured softly.
A quiet realization settled in his chest.
"…I think I've found it, Mother"