Yuko had once thought that she herself was the protagonist.
After all, transmigrators being the protagonists was practically an accepted truth, wasn't it?
But when she had been injured by a demon, when the damage to her lungs was so severe that many nights she could only curl up in bed drenched in cold sweat, unable to sleep from the pain—when she could never, no matter what, defeat Yoriichi—she finally understood.
Even if she were a protagonist, she would only be the kind destined for a tragic story.
She was not the protagonist.
Yuko understood this reality with perfect clarity.
Any sense of superiority that came from being a transmigrator with knowledge of the plot had long since vanished.
That was why she yearned for this era so deeply—why she harbored such immense anticipation for that ray of light that was destined to appear in the future.
"My older brother couldn't fulfill his lifelong wish, so I'll do it in his place?"
Even she didn't know how much confidence she truly had in those words.
So when Tanjiro actually appeared before her eyes, Yuko felt, from the bottom of her heart, that the burden on her shoulders had grown much lighter.
When a trace of moisture slid across her cheek, Yuko only then unconsciously realized that she was crying.
Was she crying from overwhelming joy?
Perhaps she was.
The figure dancing in the snow like a fire spirit truly made Yuko see faint traces of Yoriichi in him.
She silently watched all twelve forms of Sun Breathing until the Kagura dance ended. By then, dawn was approaching, the sky on the verge of breaking into light.
After finishing the dance, Tanjuro picked up Tanjiro, who had run out from the house. His wife, Kamado Kie, held the still very young Nezuko in her arms, smiling brightly as she stood on the veranda.
It was a picture of perfect family happiness.
Yuko suddenly fell silent.
She had already forgotten how many siblings Tanjiro had, but she knew there were quite a few—at least four or five.
...
Then, should she truly remain indifferent?
From a rational standpoint, she needed to place the hope of defeating Muzan onto Tanjiro. In this era, only Tanjiro could wield Sun Breathing, while she herself was merely half-formed.
Those who pursue the same path to its limit will ultimately arrive at the same destination.
Swordsmen who practiced different Breathing Styles—if they cultivated them to their utmost—would eventually reach the same peak.
Yet Sun Breathing stood above all other Breathing Styles. This was an unchangeable fact.
Even Kokushibo's improved version, the seemingly unbeatable Moon Breathing, merely amplified power. The innate, absolute advantage that Sun Breathing held against demons was something no other Breathing Style could replace.
Not to mention Nezuko.
If she truly changed the plot, it might result in Nezuko never becoming a demon.
With a battle-shōnen ending like this, Yuko didn't even need to think to know—it would absolutely be the Kamado siblings, human and demon working together, who would defeat Muzan.
But from a personal standpoint, her conscience couldn't accept it.
Yuko took two deep breaths.
It wasn't time yet. Tanjiro was still just a little kid. There were still several years before the plot truly began—she still had several years to think things through.
It wasn't a big problem.
...
Thinking this, Yuko turned and left the forest, heading down the mountain.
After taking only two steps, her feet sank into the snow, and she stopped moving.
The hand holding her Nichirin Blade tightened slightly.
No… something wasn't right...
Did she truly believe that it wasn't time yet?
Or was she already planning to use some other excuse when the time came?
Would she say she had been held up by other matters? Or that the timing was slightly off from what she had anticipated?
Would she say that she simply hadn't made it in time? After all, she hadn't played much of a role over all these years anyway—her investigation into the Upper Ranks had only amounted to uncovering Doma's information.
Over these years, hadn't she already seen plenty of people die?
Could the deaths of just these few truly sway her conscience?
She was still running away.
What, exactly, was she afraid of?
Yuko turned back to look.
The happy family was walking back into the house together.
If nothing could be changed, then what was the meaning of her coming to this world at all?
Then what was the point of her painstakingly using the Blue Spider Lily to overcome sunlight?
Was it just so that she herself could live forever?
How ridiculous.
Yuko leaned against a tree, her eyes tightly shut.
She had to change something.
She had struggled on in this wretched, lingering existence for the sake of changing something.
At some moment, Yuko suddenly opened her eyes wide, then strode resolutely down the mountain.
She would come back.
...
Somewhere in the mountains, a stunning orange-red arc flashed, illuminating the nighttime forest.
"Sun Breathing: Twelfth Form—Flame Dance!"
Before the first arc faded, another even brighter blaze surged forth.
Yuko breathed slightly heavily as she finished linking all twelve forms. With her natural aptitude, performing all twelve within three seconds was already her absolute limit— even after becoming a demon, it would only improve to at most two seconds.
Yoriichi could link all the forms in a single instant. The gap between them was so vast that even "heaven and earth" failed to describe it.
And moreover...
Even with a demon body—this body that had adapted to sunlight—she still couldn't perfectly wield Sun Breathing.
The burden it placed on her body far exceeded what her body could truly handle.
To her, pure Sun Breathing was nothing but a crippling side effect.
Yuko had originally thought about testing whether she could frighten Muzan with this very face of hers.
With Muzan's personality—more cautious than even Sima Yi—perhaps she really could bluff him successfully. But if she failed, the one who would be torn apart would be her.
As expected, the best approach was still to have Tanjiro's family relocate temporarily. As long as they were away at that critical time, Muzan would naturally lose his target.
Yuko let out a long breath, gathered her things, and headed down the mountain.
...
On the outskirts of the town at the foot of the mountain, a fierce battle was erupting.
Yuko sensed the disturbance from far away. The air was filled with the faint metallic scent of blood and the rotten stench unique to demons.
And… the level wasn't low.
One of the Twelve Kizuki?
The aura felt strangely familiar—as if she had encountered it somewhere before.
Yuko hastened her steps. When she reached the scene, she finally understood why it felt so familiar.
A red upper garment, and a strange red cloth wrapped around his head.
Doma!
At this moment, compared to their first meeting a hundred years ago, his presence was far stronger—his position was likely no longer just Upper Rank Six.
And the one fighting him was...
Yuko's pupils shrank slightly.
A red-and-green butterfly haori fluttered in the wind. The figure moved through the battle like a graceful butterfly in flight.
Butterfly… Shinobu?
Why would she be facing Doma at this point in time?
Had Yuko's very existence triggered a butterfly effect?
Her memory of the Taishō Nine Pillars wasn't very clear. After all, many of them had only appeared briefly back then. Over so many years, Yuko only retained the most distinctive impressions.
For example, the Flame Hashira with the booming voice—she still remembered that clearly, because everyone in that lineage looked the same, and she had even encountered them occasionally over the centuries.
And then there was Shinobu—the petite figure who used poison...
Yuko suddenly froze.
Wait a moment...
This height, this build...
Something felt off.
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Currently at chapter 312 for advance chapters
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