When Tomioka Giyu stepped out of the cave, the sunlight was so harsh it made his eyes sting.
The wound on his shoulder still throbbed with a dull ache. Each step tugged at his muscles, sending waves of pain through his arm.
He carried two bloodstained Nichirin Swords in his hands, their shine dulled beneath the crusted red—heavy not in weight, but in meaning.
Yamashita Hui was still waiting near the alley's entrance. When she saw him emerge, her small body flinched at once, startled by the overwhelming scent of blood clinging to him.
But then her eyes caught the two swords he held—and the empty cave behind him. For a brief moment, disbelief flickered in her gaze.
"You… you're okay?"
Her voice trembled as she asked, cautious and uncertain.
Giyu nodded once, saying nothing, and started walking toward the village square.
He needed to tell the villagers that the demon was dead.
The moment he appeared in the open, murmurs rippled through the streets.
Doors creaked open. Windows lifted. Faces—fearful, guarded, and hostile—peeked out from the shadows.
When they saw the blood covering his uniform, and the two unfamiliar Nichirin Swords in his hands, a collective gasp broke through the silence.
"It's him… the man who went to the northern cave!"
"What about Kishin-sama? What did he do to Kishin-sama?"
"Those swords… aren't those the ones from the two samurai yesterday?"
The whispers grew louder, swelling into angry shouts.
"What did you do to Kishin-sama?!"
A middle-aged man with a hoe stormed out of the crowd, pointing furiously at Giyu.
"You damn outsider!"
Giyu stopped walking and looked at him coldly. "That demon has been slain."
"What?!"
The man's face twisted red with disbelief, as if he'd heard something impossible.
"You killed Kishin-sama? Do you have any idea what you've done?!"
"It was a demon that ate humans."
Giyu's tone was low, steady.
"I'm a swordsman of the Demon Slayer Corps. It's my duty to slay demons."
"Duty? Your duty is to destroy our only chance to survive?!"
An old man with a bent back and cloudy eyes hobbled forward, leaning on his cane, his voice trembling with bitterness.
"Without Kishin-sama, those officials will come back and bleed us dry! You think killing it will save us?"
"Those officials may be cruel," Giyu said, tightening his grip on the swords, "but they're still human. Demons will only devour you."
"Human? Hah!"
The old man let out a cracked, hollow laugh.
"Do you know what those officials did last month? They took the last bag of rice from my home—my grandson starved to death because of them!
Do you know they drag away men who can't pay taxes, beat them to death working in the fields?!
That demon may have eaten people—but it saved us from monsters wearing human faces!"
The crowd erupted like a fuse lit in dry straw.
"Get him out of here!"
"He destroyed the only thing keeping us alive!"
"Kill that outsider!"
Stones, mud, even chunks of hardened snow came flying from every direction.
Giyu didn't move. He stood his ground, letting each hit land on his body.
A rock struck his injured shoulder, sending a sharp pulse of pain through his vision, but he didn't flinch or raise his arm.
Yamashita Hui screamed and ran forward, spreading her arms wide in front of him. "Stop! Stop it! He's a good person! He killed the demon that was eating us!"
"Hui! Are you insane?!"
A woman rushed forward, trying to pull her back.
"That man's the one who's going to get us all killed!"
"He's not! Mama said making deals with demons never ends well!"
Hui stood her ground, trembling under the villagers' furious stares but refusing to move.
"He killed the demon to save us!"
"Save us? He doomed us!"
The same middle-aged man roared again, raising his hoe high.
"Without Kishin-sama, the officials will return tomorrow! We're all dead!"
Then Giyu finally moved.
He didn't look at the man.
Instead, he knelt down and placed the two Nichirin Swords gently on the ground.
His voice was calm, but it carried a weight that pierced through every heart. "The owners of these two swords were Tanaka Hei and Sato Shin, swordsmen of the Demon Slayer Corps.
They were my subordinates. They died protecting this village—killed by the very demon you all served."
Giyu's gaze swept across the crowd. Anyone who met his eyes quickly looked away, their faces paling.
"You all said the demon protected you."
His tone held no anger, only a heavy weariness.
"Then look at these two swords.
Look at the people who died to protect you.
You offered them as sacrifices to that monster, trading their lives for temporary peace.
Is this what you call surviving?"
The crowd fell silent. A few still muttered curses under their breath, but even those voices faded into uneasy quiet.
"The government's tyranny—I can't control that," Giyu continued.
"But demons must be slain.
That's my duty. And it's the only way I can answer to my fallen comrades."
He bent down, picked up the two Nichirin Swords from the ground, and turned to leave.
"You're leaving?"
Yamashita Hui's small voice came from behind him.
Giyu didn't turn around. "Yeah."
"Then… what do we do when the officials come back?"
Her voice trembled, choked with tears.
Giyu's steps faltered for a moment. He didn't answer.
He didn't know.
He could kill demons—but not the darkness in people's hearts. And he couldn't fight the rot of an entire government.
When he walked out of the village, the people behind him remained silent.
No one threw stones this time. No one shouted curses.
The eyes that had once burned with hatred were now filled with confusion, fear—and faint traces of guilt.
At the edge of the road, Yamashita Hui stood watching his back grow smaller in the snow. She whispered softly, "Thank you."
Giyu heard her, but he didn't turn around.
His thoughts were a storm.
He had believed he'd done the right thing—slaying the demon, avenging his comrades.
But what he faced now wasn't gratitude. It was hatred.
Those villagers, victims of a demon, had turned that same demon into their savior.
To survive, they had made a deal with evil—offering up their own kind, even helping destroy those who came to save them.
Why?
He thought of Tanaka Hei's simple grin, of Sato Shin's sharp, steady eyes.
He thought of their sweat during training, their determination in battle… and the despair they must have felt in their final moments.
A hollow ache spread through his chest.
What had he really protected?
Had he protected people who would rather live under a demon's shadow than fight their oppressors?
Had he protected a village too far gone to tell right from wrong?
Kocho Shinobu had once told him he was always disliked. He hadn't believed her then.
But now—he could feel it clearly. The hatred. The rejection.
Even after slaying the demon and telling them the truth, they still saw him as the enemy.
Because he had broken their fragile, twisted illusion of peace.
Giyu drew in a deep breath, the freezing air biting into his lungs, clearing his fogged mind just enough.
No matter what, the demon was dead.
Tanaka Hei and Sato Shin's vengeance was fulfilled.
Now he had to return their swords to their families—to tell them that their sons and husbands had died protecting others.
That their deaths had meaning.
Even if the ones they died for never understood it.
Giyu gripped the swords tightly and quickened his pace.
The snowstorm in Echigo grew heavier, the wind whipping his haori until it fluttered violently behind him.
He didn't know if what he had done was truly right.
But he knew one thing—
As long as demons continued to devour humans, he would keep cutting them down.
Even if he was hated. Even if no one understood.
That was his duty as a Demon Slayer—and the only reason he kept living.
Still, the memory of Hieda Town pierced him like a thorn.
It reminded him that beyond a demon's fangs, there existed another darkness—one far deeper, far harder to sever.
A darkness born from human hearts.
Giyu's figure vanished into the blizzard, leaving only a trail of footprints behind him—soon swallowed by falling snow, as if no one had ever passed through.
And Hieda Town, after a long silence, sank once more into dead stillness.
Only this time, behind every shuttered window and barred door, there lingered a heavier confusion.
Without the demon's protection, and without the courage to resist, their future was nothing but a dark, endless void.