Chapter 23: The Naming-Challenged Kanzaki Akira
After descending from the mountain, Akira's first stop was a small, bustling town nestled in the foothills. There, he found an inn, procured some ink and paper, and penned a letter to Kuwajima Jigorō. He explained that he was now heading to Mount Sagiri to learn Water Breathing before sealing the message and handing it off to a messenger crow. With his duty done, he and Makomo continued on their journey.
As they walked, one particular problem gnawed at Akira's mind—he needed to name his Kasugai Crow.
Makomo had already named hers. She called it Yoru, explaining that its temperament was as "silent as the night," and its feathers were the same pitch-black hue. The name was a perfect fit.
Akira, on the other hand, glanced at the crow resting on his shoulder, its eyes peacefully closed, and felt completely stumped.
'How about… South-Southeast?' he mused, recalling a certain perpetually lost Demon Slayer and his direction-squawking crow from the story he knew. He immediately dismissed the thought, of course. He wouldn't actually saddle his companion with such a ridiculous name, but he truly couldn't think of anything better.
"My, my," Makomo's voice, laced with playful amusement, broke through his thoughts. As they had grown closer on their journey, she had become comfortable enough to tease him. "Is it possible that the great genius, Mr. Kanzaki, is actually terrible at naming things?"
Akira sighed. "When it comes to names, the only one I've ever been satisfied with in my life is 'Kanzaki Akira,' and I chose that for myself."
"Hmm? You chose your own name, Akira-kun?" Makomo's curiosity was piqued. Though their bond had deepened, she had never pried into his past. In her mind, anyone who entered the Final Selection at such a young age must have a tragic history, and she respected his privacy.
"Well, I was abandoned by my parents when I was four," Akira said, his tone surprisingly relaxed, as if he were recounting a story about someone else entirely. "An old man named Kanzaki Keizan took me in. Out of gratitude, I took his surname, just like you took Master Urokodaki's. I changed my given name, too. Back then, all I wanted was to be as free and unbound as the clouds in the sky."
"That old man… is he now…?" Makomo's eyes softened with sympathy as she asked the question with gentle caution.
"Grandpa Keizan passed away from old age shortly before my seventh birthday," Akira explained. "After that, I was taken in by a temple. Then, a little over a year ago, a demon broke in. Mr. Gyomei was there, and he protected me and the other children."
"It was after that incident that the Master of the Demon Slayer Corps came to invite Mr. Gyomei to join," he continued, a self-deprecating smile touching his lips. "I was just a tag-along, really."
In that situation, he truly had been an incidental addition to Gyomei's recruitment.
Whether out of genuine surprise or a desire to shift the topic away from his painful past, Makomo latched onto his last point. "You mean to say that Mr. Gyomei was able to defeat a demon even before he joined the Corps?"
"He did more than defeat it," Akira corrected. "He pinned that demon to the ground and beat it with his bare hands all night long, until the sun finally rose and burned it to ash."
Makomo drew in a sharp, hissing breath. The feat sounded far too incredible to be real, but she soon realized she had been shocked too early.
"Oh, right," Akira added, as if it were a minor detail. "That Mr. Gyomei is the man who just recently became the Stone Hashira, Himejima Gyomei."
Makomo fell silent. Alright, there's something even more unbelievable—becoming a Hashira in just one year…
Akira smirked to himself. Heh. Just wait. In the future, someone will go from picking up a sword to becoming a Hashira in only two months.
As a student of the former Water Hashira, Makomo understood the immense weight and power that the title of Hashira carried. To her, someone ascending to that rank in a single year was an even more staggering accomplishment than pinning a demon down for an entire night.
But soon, her thoughts turned to another question.
"You clearly don't have a deep-seated, personal hatred for demons," she observed, tilting her head. "So why did you join the Demon Slayer Corps?"
Faced with her earnest question, Akira paused, unsure how to respond. It was clear she didn't yet understand the Ubuyashiki family's strict protocols for managing information and personnel who had come into contact with demons. And so, right there on the path, Akira gave the somewhat naive girl a lesson in the harsh realities of their world.
"So that's how it is…" Makomo murmured, feeling as if a door to a new, more complicated world had just been opened. A moment later, another question surfaced. "Even so, why did you become a Demon Slayer so early? You could have stayed in the shelter for a while longer."
Akira shrugged. "What difference does it make if it's sooner or later? Besides, isn't it better to learn a Breathing Style early and gain the ability to protect myself?"
"Caw!"
His sudden movement almost sent the crow perched on his shoulder tumbling off.
"Sorry, I almost forgot about you," Akira said, turning his attention back to his avian companion. "I promise, I'll think of a proper name for you." He refocused, and the struggle began anew.
The crow glanced at him, a distinct feeling of unreliability emanating from its master.
Makomo watched him, a thoughtful expression on her face. If she were to be precise, she owed her life to the fact that Akira had learned a Breathing Style so early. If he hadn't been there, in her state of emotional collapse, she would have undoubtedly perished at the hands of the Hand Demon.
She shook her head, dispelling the cluttered thoughts, and watched Akira's brow furrow in concentration. With a light step, she moved closer.
"If it's giving you that much of a headache, why don't I help you think of one?"
"Absolutely not," he retorted immediately. "It's my crow, so I have to be the one to name it. It's called having a sense of ceremony, you understand?"
"Ah, yes, yes," she chirped, her eyes curving into crescents. "Our great genius Kanzaki knows so much about everything… except how to name things."
"Just you wait! I'll definitely come up with a good name!"
"Then I'll be looking forward to it~"
And so, their journey continued, the road made far less boring by their lighthearted bickering. Every so often, Akira's miserable cries would echo through the trees. These were the sounds he made after suggesting names like 'Inky,' 'Sooty,' or 'Coal Ball,' only to be met with the crow's furious protests and a flurry of sharp pecks.
Whenever this happened, Makomo would burst into peals of laughter by the roadside. Even the quiet-natured Yoru couldn't help but let out a squawk of amusement. And whenever Yoru laughed, the attacks Akira suffered seemed to grow even more forceful.
…
Finally, just as the silhouette of Mount Sagiri appeared on the horizon, Akira clapped his hands together with a crisp snap.
"I've decided! From now on, I'll call you… Inkshadow. How about that?"
He spoke with complete confidence, yet his body instinctively tensed, preparing for the inevitable avian assault.
But this time, no attack came.
Akira looked up at the crow, which had refused to land on him after being subjected to so many bizarre names. "You… you agree?" he asked, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.
The crow didn't answer. It simply spread its wings and drifted down, settling slowly back onto Akira's shoulder.
"Black as ink, swift as a shadow," Makomo teased immediately, a warm smile on her face. "Our great genius has finally come up with a decent name."
"I'll just take that as a compliment," Akira said, too relieved to have any energy left for bickering.
Seeing this, Makomo simply smiled and let the matter drop. Saying any more would cross the line from lighthearted banter into actual nagging.
"Look," she said, pointing ahead. "We've arrived. That's Mount Sagiri."
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