The era of demons was over. Both the Hashira and the ordinary members of the Demon Slayer Corps became just ordinary people like everyone else.
To help everyone live as stable a life as possible, the Ubuyashiki Family prepared generous settlement funds for everyone, and specially arranged adjacent residences for the Hashira, intending for these warriors who had fought in darkness their whole lives to support each other in their remaining years.
However, Taka still declined this kindness and insisted on returning to Hayama.
There lay his most miserable beginnings. There was Tetsushin, the one-armed old man. There were Rika and Kenichi. There was the wind over the entire mountain.
Unexpected yet understandable was that, due to the severe damage to the Butterfly Mansion in the final battle and Shinobu's extremely poor health, the former Insect Hashira also chose to return to Hayama with Taka to recuperate.
Calling it recuperation, but everyone understood tacitly.
That was where her journey would end.
The spring sun lazily spilled onto the wooden veranda of the Hayama training ground.
The repair work here had long been completed by the children who had once trained here and the retired Demon Slayer Corps' members.
The originally desolate rear mountain training ground had been transformed into a medicinal herb garden, specially tended by a few young girls who had retired from the Butterfly Mansion.
Their bond with Shinobu was like sisters. At least in this final time, they were determined to take good care of their elder sister.
Taka sat by the veranda, quietly basking in the sunlight with his eyes closed. In his mind, he watched the young man who bore some resemblance to himself.
The other was quietly crouching on that massive tree in the Rukongai, watching as a pitch-black whirlpool gate gradually took shape.
That was the entrance to another world, and also Taka's true destination.
"I need some time to stabilize the realm gate. Take care of any unfinished business you have as soon as you can." The young man's voice was still emotionless, but Taka could feel he meant no harm. "This time, you have no choice. Even if your wish is to stay here, I must send you away."
"This body is like a porcelain bottle filled with magma, covered in cracks, ready to shatter at any moment...."
"Moreover, I can already sense that many souls have been affected by your existence. Before the situation gets too bad, we must terminate this behavior of yours disrupting the Reishi Cycle."
The massive white wolf was also silent now, just quietly lying under the ancient tree, occasionally swallowing some of the energy dissipating from the whirlpool.
Time to go back? Yes, it was time to go back.
He still had a revenge to exact, someone to kill....
"Taka, daydreaming again?"
A gentle voice came from behind, pulling Taka's consciousness back to reality.
Shinobu, wearing her signature butterfly-wing-pattern haori, felt her way along the doorframe with her hand, slowly walking out.
Her steps were very light, no longer possessing their former agility. Though her eyes were open, those purple irises had lost focus, appearing somewhat hollow.
"No." Taka propped himself up with one arm to support her, his voice as resonant as ever. "I was looking at the bellflowers in the herb garden!"
"Liar." Shinobu chuckled lightly as she held onto his firm arm and sat down beside him, her movements somewhat slow.
"It's only March now. The bellflowers won't bloom for a long time."
"Then I was looking at the bellflowers that haven't bloomed yet."
"My, my.... you really haven't changed a bit, have you? This clumsy way of chatting."
Shinobu smiled ruefully. She extended her slender hand and waved it vaguely in the air.
Taka naturally reached out his left hand and supported her palm.
Her hand was very cold, an aftereffect of Doma's Blood Demon Art.
And Taka's hand was very hot, the morbid high fever produced by the violent Reiatsu within him constantly washing through his physical body.
One cold, one hot, achieving a strange balance in the breeze.
"What characters are we learning today?" Taka took the initiative to ask.
From the Rukongai to the Taisho era, he had only learned to fight.
Occasionally hearing people around him speak wisdom and recite poetry, he only knew how to say them, and he couldn't read the written characters at all.
Though he was never embarrassed by this, since returning to Hayama, Shinobu had insisted on teaching him to read, including katakana and kanji.
In her words, if Taka ever went somewhere else and couldn't even read a signpost, he would be laughed at.
"Yesterday we learned the character for 'home'." Shinobu's fingertip traced lightly across Taka's broad palm.
"Do you still remember how to write it?"
Taka took a deep breath, trying hard to recall. This felt more difficult than practicing swordsmanship.
He extended his index finger and traced stroke by stroke in Shinobu's delicate palm.
His movements were very slow. The calluses on his fingertips rubbed against her tender palm, causing a faint, subtle itch.
"Here.... the hook should be a little longer." Shinobu corrected softly.
She turned his finger over, guiding him through the vigorous stroke: "The top part of this character is a roof, and the bottom part is a little pig...."
Taka felt the sensation at his fingertip, turning his head to look at the earnest Shinobu.
He didn't understand calligraphy or aesthetics.
But he could feel that when Shinobu held his hand, that restless, almost body-ripping Reiatsu within him would miraculously calm for a moment.
The lessons continued quietly under the veranda. He wrote character after character in her palm.
He learned very seriously, wanting to carve these unfamiliar symbols into his soul.
Before the inevitable, more cruel battles arrived, this kind of tranquil time was even more precious.
The sun slowly began to set.
"What's the next character?" Taka asked.
"Let's learn the character for 'return'." Shinobu's voice carried a hint of fatigue as she leaned against Taka's shoulder.
"The 'return' of returning home."
....
In the intervals between lessons....
or rather, considering Shinobu's physical expenditure, for most of the day, Taka would usually go to the workshop shed in the dojo.
That was where Tetsushin used to pile odds and ends.
Taka was now trying his hand at being a carpenter.
For a man with only one hand, and fingers often numb from the impact of spiritual pressure, carving was an extremely difficult task. But he was very absorbed in it.
He braced the wood with his foot. The muscles in his left arm bulged as he tightly gripped the carving knife.
Tock— Tock—
Fine wood chips flew.
He wanted to carve some small animals for Shinobu.
Because she couldn't see, he hoped she could feel them with her hands, wanted her to be able to touch something alive, even when alone.
His first work was a ball.
Originally, he had wanted to carve a cat.
"What is this?"
When Shinobu woke up and took that round, rolling wooden block, she felt it puzzledly.
".....A cat." Taka replied expressionlessly.
Shinobu Kocho burst out laughing. Her weak, faint laughter sounded especially clear in the silent Japanese-style room:
"What cat looks like a rice ball? Taka-san, did you really put all your talent into swordsmanship?"
Taka didn't argue. He just silently returned to the wooden shed.
In the days that followed, the continuous sound of whittling could always be heard from Hayama's workshop.
"What's that sound? Are you expanding the dojo? There are hardly any disciples." Jigoro, playing shogi with Tetsushin, looked puzzledly towards the door.
Tetsushin shot him a glare: "Mind your own business."
Slowly, the wooden ball became a block with edges and corners. The block grew ears and a tail.
He carved a burrowing mouse, carved a roaring wild boar—
Of course, Inosuke, who was temporarily staying at Hayama, wanted to fight Taka over that statue, insisting Taka hadn't captured the divine essence of the Great Mountain Lord.
Finally, he carved a butterfly.
That butterfly rested on a leaf. Though not particularly exquisite, it was still a little object worth handling.
When Shinobu touched that wooden butterfly, her fingertips trembled slightly.
"Amazing, Taka." She said softly. "This.... has your scent on it."
Taka was momentarily stunned. He hadn't used any kind of fragrance.
But he quickly understood. That must be the aura of his Reiatsu.
While carving, the overflowing Reiatsu had unconsciously infused into it.
This butterfly, even separated from his hand, would remain undecayed and unrotting for decades, and could even scare away ordinary wild animals.
[Too bad, she won't last that long. Otherwise, it could have been a talisman.]
Tonan's voice sounded in his heart, making Taka's expression darken.
"Nosy fellow." He patted the hilt of the sword.