"Ome" was the name Gyutaro gave to his younger sister.
In truth, Daki's real name was simply "Ume".
It was taken from the name of the disease their mother suffered from.
Just as she had treated Gyutaro, their mother loathed her daughter as well… fortunately, every time she tried to harm the child, Gyutaro was there to protect her.
Oboro had seen the baby girl while she was still in her swaddling clothes.
Even as an infant, from the shape of her face and especially her eyes, it was clear she would grow up to be stunningly beautiful.
Oboro had caught sight of her quite by chance, while passing along the banks of the Rashōmon River — he had seen Gyutaro holding his baby sister in his arms.
The boy had something new in his hand.
A sickle.
It was a toy that a customer had once dropped and left behind.
Ever since Daki was born, Gyutaro had not only taken on the duties of an older brother, but had also assumed the role of a parent. He had begun trying to find ways to feed and support her.
His eyes had changed, becoming sharp and carrying a latent, dangerous aggression.
There was no way he would ever let Ume eat snakes, rats, or insects the way he had. He had to find better sources of food, and for her sake, he was willing to do absolutely anything.
Oboro had come to the Rashōmon River district precisely because it had been months since Gyutaro had last appeared at his gates to beg for food.
Just as he had predicted — once the boy had gained enough ability to survive on his own, he had stopped coming to trouble him.
Oboro also noticed that now, when passers‑by looked at Gyutaro, there was something new in their eyes. Along with disgust and loathing, there was now a hint of fear.
Clearly, the boy had changed a great deal over these months.
At the very least, when people tried to hurt him, he was now fighting back.
Chiyo, who had accompanied Oboro, stepped forward and offered the food she had prepared — but Gyutaro did not take it.
Instead, he bowed deeply once more, turned around, and walked away.
Chiyo froze, unsure how to react.
After that, the two of them returned home.
---
Spring passed and autumn came.
Oboro did not pay too much attention to the siblings' daily lives, but he still heard news about them from time to time.
He heard of Gyutaro's notorious deeds — how even at such a young age, his strength was greater than that of many adults.
And how viciously and brutally he fought, striking fear into the hearts of everyone in the area.
He had practically become the "little tyrant" of the Rashōmon River district.
Ume, too, had grown into a striking young girl, her beauty becoming more radiant by the day.
As for their mother — though she was still a prostitute, living by selling her body — she had long since separated from her children and no longer had anything to do with them.
It had all begun one day when she started beating Ume, and Gyutaro had finally snapped — he had nearly killed her in his rage.
From that day on, the woman lived in terror of her own son… and could only bad‑mouth the siblings behind their backs, the same way everyone else did.
But what truly caught Oboro's interest were the rumors coming from the Shogunate…
…and the reports from the Demon Slayer Corps.
A very interesting trend had begun.
Over the past year, the number of demons had started to increase… clearly, Muzan was moving around again and making new moves.
But unlike decades before, these newly born demons were powerful and posed genuine difficulties for the Corps.
At the same time, the demons created by Oboro's inheritors were also hunting down and killing Muzan's subordinates on a massive scale.
Since demons could devour each other to absorb power… the two factions found themselves in direct conflict over resources and strength.
When Oboro learned of this, he understood immediately: after decades of research and collecting samples… Muzan had indeed made discoveries.
He had managed to interfere with the will contained within the blood cells of Oboro that flowed through his inheritors — cells originally linked to Oboro himself.
Every inheritor had been infused with a drop or two of Oboro's essence blood, designed to suppress Muzan's own cells.
More importantly, the will encoded within those cells strengthened their minds and spirits, making them far more capable and powerful.
But since Oboro had only given them a few drops, the will he had bestowed was relatively faint… and so, for Muzan, breaking through or altering it had not been too difficult.
Still, the fact that Muzan could change the very will within those blood cells proved that after all these years, he had finally recognized "soul" as a form of energy.
Muzan was not only the progenitor of demons but also a brilliant researcher — and with his abilities, his resources, and all the time he had spent, it was only natural that he would eventually reach this point.
Yet simply understanding its existence was far different from being able to grasp or control it.
Oboro guessed that Muzan had most likely relied on altering his own physical form, forcing changes deep within his cells through biological means…
A very physical, brute‑force kind of solution.
In the past, without Oboro's influence, demons were all confined to the same dimension of existence.
No matter how many of their own kind they devoured or how strong they became, they could never break past their natural limits.
But now, with Oboro's essence blood and the changes it brought, demons could advance their evolutionary stage by consuming one another…
Because Oboro had raised the upper limit of what a demon could become.
The four inheritors — Yasuhara and Teshima Ga among them — whom Oboro had fought in Edo years ago, were the perfect example of this.
Muzan had realized this truth, and surely some of Oboro's inheritors had realized it as well — otherwise, the fighting between the two sides would never have been so fierce.
Meanwhile, within the Demon Slayer Corps, the Ubuyashiki clan had already seen two new leaders take over. And the ranks of the Hashira had been replaced generation after generation.
Their mastery of breathing techniques had advanced far beyond the level of Ichimiya or Tenjurō's era.
The clearest example was this: in the current generation, there were more than ten Hashira. Two of them had already awakened the Demon Mark.
Furthermore, they had discovered the existence of the "Bright Red Blade" — and had begun systematic training and instruction to master it.
These were techniques and abilities that, in the original timeline, would not appear until a hundred years later. Oboro had advanced everything greatly.
Everything was progressing exactly as Oboro had planned.
That year, winter arrived with extreme cold.
Heavy snow fell without cease.
Oboro walked alone to the banks of the Rashōmon River. From a distance, he spotted Gyutaro and Ume huddled together in a corner of the street, covered only by a thin straw mat to keep warm.
Gyutaro held his sister close, making promises and vows to her.
They swore never to be apart — as long as they stayed together, they were invincible.
Poverty, hunger, hardship… none of it could ever defeat them.
Oboro stood watching from afar, never stepping closer.
The weather was terrible; the streets were empty. The thick white snow blurred vision, yet it was still possible to make out distant shapes.
Ume was the first to notice Oboro.
Staring at the dark figure far away, feeling as though someone was watching them, she whispered: "Someone's there."
Gyutaro shivered and followed her gaze, saying nothing.
He could not see clearly, but he knew instinctively who it was.
The stranger did not leave, but stood motionless in the snow.
"Probably… just someone who got lost," Gyutaro told his sister with a faint smile.
Ume did not know who Oboro was.
A short while later, the figure turned and walked away into the distance.
Gyutaro let out a breath of relief, his tension fading.
He had been terrified that Oboro might walk closer… and see how wretched and poor they were.
It was not pride or dignity that made him feel that way. It was simply that Gyutaro understood how great the kindness and help Oboro had once given him had been… and right now, he was still far too weak to ever repay it.
Walking back home, Oboro looked down at the footprints he left behind in the deep snow, his thoughts turning.
People in this world truly were different from those in Hunter × Hunter.
Their characters and identities were formed so simply and purely… making their emotions unwavering and wholehearted.
Whether in kindness… or in wickedness.
"You've grown up a little, haven't you…" Oboro said softly, smiling.
In his mind's eye, he "saw" the small tree that represented the will of this world. Its once withered branches were now bursting with new life, dotted with fresh green leaves.
Even its trunk had grown noticeably thicker and stronger.
The tree swayed gently, rustling in the wind, as if answering his words.
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