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Since Rengoku delivered the message, I still went to meet this generation's Ubuyashiki.
He was about twenty-something, already quite seriously ill. One eye blind. Probably couldn't hold on many more years.
But he observed me seriously with his remaining eye. The smile on his face very much resembled Kiyohiro's.
"I never imagined I'd have the fortune to meet you."
Moonlight illuminated the courtyard pond. Silver-white radiance scattered across the ground, making this night especially quiet and peaceful.
Ubuyashiki called me over to discuss the Demon Slayer Corps' upcoming reforms.
With the Breathing Styles Yoriichi taught, Corps members' combat power had risen considerably. Currently, training time was still short... but after some more time, presumably they could face demons alone without problem.
Since their strength had surged, the original squad model seemed somewhat wasteful of manpower. Ubuyashiki planned to have demon hunters start executing missions solo going forward.
The Ubuyashiki clan had connections and wealth, enough to cultivate numerous informants gathering intelligence. Based on missing persons numbers in various places, they could basically deduce the strength of demons lurking there.
He prepared to establish ten ranks to assign missions to swordsmen of different abilities... and above these ten ranks would be the Demon Slayer Corps' most elite swordsmen.
"I plan to name them 'Hashira,'" he asked me with a smile. "What do you think?"
Hashira... meaning pillars? Indeed quite good.
These elites selected through layers—their target should be Muzan, right?
The wages swordsmen received would also continuously increase based on the number and rank of demons killed. This could also attract those desperate daredevils, constantly providing new blood to the Demon Slayer Corps.
However, Breathing Styles making demon hunters' strength rise also meant if they betrayed, they'd cause greater casualties to the Corps.
In the past centuries, it wasn't like demon hunters hadn't surrendered to Muzan when desperate, instead becoming demons.
Ubuyashiki was usually easy to talk to, but absolutely couldn't tolerate such behavior.
Even after I left the Demon Slayer Corps, once such people appeared, they'd send me letters, asking me to hunt down traitors at any cost.
"If a swordsman who mastered Breathing Styles betrays, then their instructor and squad relatives must also atone with death."
He now added this rule. I couldn't help saying, "Isn't that very wasteful?"
A swordsman who could live to safely retire was very precious!
The experience they possessed could train more swordsmen. Why must they be killed?
Ubuyashiki pondered thoughtfully for a moment. "Your concern is not without reason. Then what do you suggest?"
I seriously considered for a while, proposing a compromise suggestion to him.
Ubuyashiki also accepted it, but what was publicly announced remained the new squad rules he'd devised, lest some swordsmen harbor false hope.
Just discussing these reform measures for the Demon Slayer Corps, he chatted with me all night.
Near dawn, when I prepared to leave, he suddenly called me back.
"After learning of Yoriichi, I once had fantasies and secret joy," he said. "Just as Momotaro slew demons, was Yoriichi that hero chosen by heaven? I once deluded myself—if he existed, suffering could end in my generation. My child would—"
Speaking to the end, he stopped short. Silent.
These words he couldn't say to others. The Demon Slayer Corps' Master was like the swordsmen's "father." Must forever be strong and reliable. Not a shred of weakness could be revealed.
But he was only twenty-something too.
I reached out, patting his hair. His hair felt quite soft.
"You're still a child. Thinking about things that make you happy is normal," I said. "Next time I'll bring you sweets. Near where I live, there's a confectionery shop. Very delicious."
He laughed. His face indeed revealed some childishness. Nodded to me. "Alright, then it's settled."
Since reforming, Ubuyashiki might as well also change how he treated me.
Couldn't let everyone know of my existence, but could let those at the Hashira rank know.
Currently able to reach this level, besides Yoriichi, were five others—precisely the direct disciples of each school.
Don't know what Ubuyashiki told them. Anyway, when I joined their Breathing Style training with Rengoku, they looked at me a few more times but didn't voice any unpleasant opinions.
Yoriichi also had no objection to teaching me. According to news Uta secretly revealed to me, he'd been restless about how to repay me. Sometimes wanting to save all his wages for me, sometimes feeling pure money couldn't repay kindness.
So he couldn't wait to teach me Breathing Styles, secretly determined to definitely teach me until I learned.
But half his monthly wages still had to go to me as expenses for Uta living at my place.
My residence was in the bustling city. Demon Slayer Corps headquarters was in the suburbs, less easily disturbed. Of course, there were also houses for swordsmen to live in.
Yoriichi thought having Uta and Koe follow him to move there would easily be disturbed by swordsmen coming and going. After all, everyone was always running around at night.
Moreover, bustling towns were more suitable for children to recuperate. Buying things was also more convenient. Could more easily make playmates too.
Had to say, his first meeting with his daughter was very funny, but he'd already naturally accepted the father role.
Uta secretly told me before Yoriichi first held Koe, he did a full hour of mental preparation, rehearsing holding-a-child postures with a pillow for half an hour.
She had to suppress laughter while guiding him on the side. Really very hard.
After holding Koe, he also didn't speak. Just maintained that posture, eyes unblinking, staring at Koe's face.
—Until Koe woke up whimpering. Round eyes met his. She suddenly blew a spit bubble. Only then did he suddenly show a silly smile along with the child.
But when he trained me, he wasn't silly at all!
I was dying!
After being beaten with his wooden sword for half the night, I started missing my residence, my little sweets, and my little blanket—sun-dried, fragrant and soft, full of sunshine's scent—
Yoriichi said, "Please stand up. Continue training."
Really outrageous. Couldn't he let me lie on the ground playing dead for a bit?!
Furiously, I climbed up, picking up my blade to continue hacking at him.
Speaking of which, being a demon still had some benefits. I could only train at night, couldn't come out during the day.
This also avoided those Hashira running over to watch and laugh at me.
Actually, I didn't have their kind of swordsmanship talent.
My only advantage was living long, having lots of time to practice.
But no amount of practice time could match one of Yoriichi's moves.
This indeed easily bred frustration. But as long as I recognized I was trash and lay down early, no one could mock me.
I spoke too soon.
Half a year later, the Demon Slayer Corps gained a new member named Tsugikuni Michikatsu.
He was Yoriichi's twin brother.
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