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Following Kuroha's lead, Kaidō spent another full day traveling before finally reaching Demon Slayer Corps Headquarters.
"So this is it." He took in the sprawling compound with a low whistle. "Pretty impressive setup. Though I'm guessing this isn't the actual Headquarters location, right?"
Seeing something in person really was different from watching it play out in an anime.
"Excuse me, are you Ryūjin Kaidō-sama?" A Kakushi member approached, bowing politely. "I've been assigned to escort you to meet the Master."
"That's me. Thanks for the help."
"Not at all. Please, this way."
The Kakushi led him to a horse-drawn carriage. What followed was the most convoluted journey Kaidō had ever experienced—switching escorts multiple times, changing carriages at seemingly random intervals, doubling back on routes they'd already taken. After several hours of this deliberate misdirection, the Kakushi finally spoke again.
"Kaidō-sama, we've arrived."
"Finally." Kaidō stretched as he climbed out of the carriage. Just like in the story—the Corps kept Headquarters' location obsessively secret, and the Ubuyashiki estate was even more hidden. Even the Kakushi only knew fragments of the full route. No wonder Muzan could never find this place.
A white-haired girl waited at the entrance. Kaidō recognized her immediately—Kanata Ubuyashiki.
"Hello. I'm Ryūjin Kaidō. The Master summoned me."
"Welcome. Please follow me." Kanata's smile was polite but emotionless.
She led him through the estate to a courtyard. Small stones covered the ground, with decorative rock formations and a miniature pond arranged throughout the space. Kaidō recognized it instantly—this was where the Hashira had put Tanjiro on trial in the original timeline.
"Please wait here. The Master and the Hashira will arrive shortly." Kanata bowed and departed.
"Got it. Thanks."
...
After a few minutes, someone entered through the courtyard gate. He had striking yellow-and-red hair, sharp eyebrows, and eyes that burned with intensity. A flame-patterned haori draped across his shoulders.
Flame Hashira—Kyojuro Rengoku.
"Young man! So you're the swordsman the Master mentioned—the one who defeated a Lower Rank demon single-handedly? Excellent! I have high expectations for you!" Rengoku's voice boomed across the courtyard.
"Thank you, Rengoku-san." Meeting the real Kyojuro Rengoku made Kaidō's heart pound with excitement.
Another figure entered the courtyard—this one expressionless, features carefully neutral.
"Senpai!"
Water Hashira—Giyu Tomioka.
Giyu was also Urokodaki's student, making him Kaidō's senpai. The stoic young man wore a haori with two different patterns—the left side matching his deceased friend Sabito's clothing, the right side identical to his late sister Tsutako's kimono.
He was the type to say things like "I'm not like the rest of you" to the other Hashira, which made him sound incredibly arrogant. In reality, he just had zero social skills and didn't know how to express himself properly.
When Shinobu had told him the other Hashira disliked him, he'd been genuinely surprised.
"How is Master Urokodaki doing?" Giyu's tone was flat, but there was concern beneath it.
Urokodaki had written to Giyu about his exceptional new student, asking Giyu to look after him at Headquarters. The letter had included a description, so Giyu knew this white-haired young man was his junior.
"Master's doing well. You should visit him sometime."
"Mm."
The next arrival was impossible to miss—everything about him screamed extravagance.
Sound Hashira—Tengen Uzui.
A former shinobi whose headband was studded with jewels, makeup painted elaborately around his eyes, fingernails lacquered in different colors. Despite the flashy appearance, his face was surprisingly handsome beneath all the decoration.
His physique was massive, muscles so dense he could forcibly stop his own heartbeat to slow poison spread.
His catchphrase was "flamboyant," and he called himself the "God of Festivals." He put on an arrogant act, but underneath he was actually pretty easygoing—quick to laugh, with "flamboyant" punctuating nearly every sentence.
"So this is the swordsman the Master mentioned? Joined the Corps less than a month ago and already killed a Lower Rank? What a flamboyant guy!" Tengen laughed heartily.
"Uzui-san is pretty flamboyant himself. Truly worthy of being called the God of Festivals!" Kaidō grinned back.
"Haha! I like you! How about becoming my flamboyant Tsuguko?"
"Thanks for the offer, Uzui-san. I'll think about it."
The next person to enter was female—and as she walked, her chest bounced with every step.
Love Hashira—Mitsuri Kanroji.
Large pale green eyes, perpetually flushed cheeks, and a small beauty mark below each eye. Her hair was styled in three long braids—sakura pink fading to lime green at the tips. She'd dyed it black for matchmaking meetings, but after eating 170 sakura mochi every day for eight months straight, her hair had changed color permanently.
She wore a white haori over her Corps uniform, which had been specially modified by the tailor Maeda Masao—an open-chested design with a short skirt that showed off her legs. Her green-striped stockings were a gift from Snake Hashira Iguro Obanai, who was secretly in love with her.
Cheerful and lively by nature, she blushed easily and tended to sweat when embarrassed.
"Wow, what an adorable child!!" Mitsuri's face immediately turned pink.
"Mitsuri-nee-san."
"NEE-SAN?? She called me nee-san! Ah, I want to hug her so badly!" Mitsuri's internal excitement only made her blush deepen.
"This is the swordsman the Master mentioned? Doesn't look like much to me." The voice came from above—someone had appeared on a tree branch without anyone noticing. Heterochromatic eyes stared down, and a white snake coiled around his neck.
Snake Hashira—Obanai Iguro.
Born with mismatched eyes—right eye gold, left eye green—and bandages wrapped around the lower half of his face. His black hair hung like seaweed down to his shoulders. He wore a striped haori and kept a male white snake named Kaburamaru wrapped around his neck.
Unlike Mitsuri's enormous appetite, Obanai could go three days without food or water. He seemed to harbor feelings for Mitsuri—he'd even given her those striped stockings as a gift. His speech was habitually sarcastic, but he genuinely cared about his comrades.
Like Sanemi, he despised demons and didn't trust outsiders easily. He only fully opened up around the Master and Mitsuri.
His favorite food was kelp strips, his favorite animal was snakes, and his hobbies included senryu poetry, haiku, and watching people make candy sculptures.
Kaidō smiled up at him but didn't respond. He knew Obanai's sharp tongue masked a warm heart.
'What's wrong? Kaburamaru is sensing fear from him... no, more like submission and dominance!' Obanai's thoughts raced.
The Demon Slayer Mark and Dragon Breathing created a natural hierarchy—blood-based suppression that even animals could detect.
Another woman entered, this one wearing a smile that looked painfully fake.
Insect Hashira—Shinobu Kocho.
Black hair with purple tips, purple eyes, hair cut to collarbone length and styled in a nightclub roll. She wore a mint-colored butterfly hairpin with deep purple edges, and her Corps uniform was covered by a haori patterned with butterfly wings—a memento from her late sister, Kanae Kocho.
In her youth, she'd worn her hair short and had been serious and stern. Occasionally she worried about being too short. She dressed conservatively and disliked revealing clothing.
After Kanae's death, Shinobu had worked hard to become as gentle as her sister. But even though she smiled constantly, she was suppressing deep rage toward demons.
She excelled at teaching and nurturing younger members. She and Mitsuri shared similar interests and often exchanged fashionable recipe ideas.
"Oh my, little lady, so you're the one the Master summoned? How cute! And you can stay so calm even surrounded by all these Hashira." Shinobu's smile never wavered.
"Kocho-san, I'm a man."
"Eh?! A man?!" Mitsuri gasped. Her thoughts immediately spiraled. 'He's actually a man?! Oh no, that's so embarrassing—I was thinking about hugging him!'
Her face turned even redder.
"You called Mitsuri 'nee-san' but call me just 'san.' You're drawing some pretty clear lines there! Also, I don't think I ever told you my name. So how do you know all of ours?" Shinobu's smile grew sharper, her eyes dangerous.
"Master Urokodaki told me."
'Sorry, Master. I'm throwing you under the bus here, but I don't have a better excuse!'
...
Back on Mount Sagiri, Urokodaki sneezed suddenly. "Who's talking about me?"
...
"Um, Shinobu... nee-san, could you maybe not stand quite so close?" Shinobu's face was only a few centimeters from Kaidō's. He could smell the wisteria fragrance on her.
"Ah, that's more like it!" She finally stepped back, satisfied.
Three more people entered—one of them towering over the others at well over two meters tall.
Stone Hashira—Gyomei Himejima.
The Corps' eldest member, a monk-styled giant who constantly wept. An extremely long scar crossed his forehead, and both eyes were completely blind. He wore a brown kesa over his Corps uniform, emblazoned with "Namu Amida Butsu."
He was the strongest fighter in the entire Demon Slayer Corps. Just swinging his prayer beads could shake everyone around him, though his Tsuguko Genya Shinazugawa had noted he wasn't great at teaching.
Gentle and calm by nature, he was always crying while chanting sutras, ending most sentences with "Namu Amida Butsu." He showed compassion to everyone but held absolute hatred for demons. His traumatic past had made him unable to trust children, but Tanjiro Kamado would later help him overcome that.
Wind Hashira—Sanemi Shinazugawa.
White spiky hair, three long scars across his face, and countless other scars covering his body. He wore a white haori with the kanji for "kill" emblazoned on it, and usually left his uniform open to display his muscular torso. Together, it represented his mentality: "Kill every single demon."
Volatile temperament—when agitated, his eyes would fill with bloodshot veins. He harbored superhuman hatred toward demons.
His treatment of his younger brother Genya seemed brutal, but it was actually protective—he wanted Genya to quit the Corps so he wouldn't get hurt.
Mist Hashira—Muichiro Tokito.
A black-haired boy with an expressionless face, a prodigy who'd become a Hashira just two months after picking up a sword. He was constantly spacing out and quickly forgot anything he deemed unimportant.
He deeply respected Master Ubuyashiki and would punish anyone who showed the Master disrespect.
According to Upper Rank One Kokushibo, Muichiro was his descendant—a member of the Tsugikuni bloodline.
Amnesia had left him emotionally stunted—silent, cold, and distant. Later, with Tanjiro's help, he'd recover his memories and gradually become more cheerful and friendly. His hobbies were paper cutting and origami. His favorite food was simmered radish with sauce.
Now all nine Hashira had gathered.
"Oi, oi, oi—this guy killed a Lower Rank? Doesn't look like much. Can someone that scrawny even swing a weapon, let alone kill a demon?" Sanemi's tone dripped with contempt.
"Ah, it seems the Corps will soon gain another powerful member. How joyous. Namu Amida Butsu." Gyomei pressed his palms together, tears streaming down his face.
"What was your name again? Whatever, I'll forget it in a minute anyway." Muichiro spoke flatly, then tilted his head to stare at the sky. "What shape is that cloud...?"
At that moment, two young girls' voices rang out in unison:
"THE MASTER HAS ARRIVED!"
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