Chapter 28: Plan Successful
Crack.
With a sharp, clean strike, the wooden sword was sent spinning from Tomioka Giyuu's numb fingers, clattering to the ground. A fresh crack marred its already battered surface.
"Again," Kanzaki Akira commanded, his voice as cold and unyielding as a winter stone.
But Giyuu didn't move. He simply stood there, glaring at Akira, refusing to repeat the humiliating motion he had performed countless times. In that moment, the dead calm in his eyes finally fractured, replaced by a storm of pure, unadulterated rage.
"What? Giving up already?" Akira's tone was laced with a chilling contempt. "Is this what your sister died to protect? A man like you?"
"Don't you dare… insult my sister!"
The mention of his sister was the deepest, most painful scar on Giyuu's soul. Akira's words ripped it open without a shred of mercy, and the dam of Giyuu's composure finally shattered. He didn't question how this stranger knew his past; he only knew an all-consuming need to make him pay. With a raw cry, he lunged forward, his hands balled into fists.
"Fighting with your fists?" Akira's voice was deceptively calm. "Have you forgotten everything you've learned? Your Breathing Technique? Your swordsmanship?"
Facing the nearly feral Giyuu, Akira moved with an almost lazy grace, easily evading the wild attacks. He met each clumsy blow with a precise counter from his own wooden sword. When Giyuu swung a fist, Akira's blade rapped sharply against the back of his hand. When he threw a kick, the sword found his knee or thigh. Akira controlled the force perfectly—enough to inflict sharp, stinging pain, but not enough to cause serious injury.
Finally, with a swift, decisive motion, he brought the wooden sword down against Giyuu's head. The impact sent him stumbling to the ground. As Giyuu fell, Akira subtly raised a hand, signaling for Sabito and Makomo to remain calm and stay where they were.
Giyuu was not unconscious. He lay sprawled in the dirt, his hands clawing at the earth, his entire body trembling uncontrollably. Akira, standing closest, could hear the ragged, choked sobs catching in his breath.
"Hey. Is that all you have?" Akira pressed on, his voice relentless. "Is this the result your sister paid for with her life? A failure like this?"
He took a single step closer. It was the opening Giyuu had been waiting for. In a flash of desperate cunning, Giyuu rolled sideways, scooping up a handful of sand and flinging it directly at Akira's face. In the same fluid motion, his other hand found the hilt of his fallen wooden sword. He gripped it and surged to his feet.
He drew a sharp, ragged breath, channeling his fury into his technique.
"Water Breathing, Second Form: Water Wheel!"
The series of actions took Akira by a flicker of surprise. He could have easily dodged the sand, but he wanted to see Giyuu's next move. Instead, he simply closed his eyes and tilted his head, letting the grit spray harmlessly past him. A split second later, the whistle of a wooden sword slicing through the air sounded directly above him.
Akira looked up, his eyes snapping open. His enhanced vision captured the entire scene in perfect, agonizing detail: Giyuu's eyes, bloodshot and swimming with tears; his hands gripping the hilt so tightly the veins stood out like cords on his arms; the ferocious, grief-stricken snarl on his face.
And at the same time, he saw the flaw. The single, fatal weakness in Giyuu's attack.
Calmly, Akira raised his own wooden sword. In that instant, the rhythm of his breathing shifted.
"Water Breathing, Seventh Form: Drop Ripple Thrust."
Snap!
CRACK!
Just as Giyuu's attack was about to connect, Akira's thrust struck first. The tip of his blade found the weakest point of Giyuu's strike—the pre-existing crack on his wooden sword.
The impact was devastating. Giyuu's sword didn't just break; it shattered. A massive, jarring force traveled up the splintered hilt and into his arms. With no use in mid-air, he was thrown completely off balance, his body flipping backward through the air.
Thud!
He landed hard on his back, the impact jarring through his frame. He didn't move. He just lay there, staring up at a sky that offered no answers, his eyes utterly vacant. Tears began to stream silently from the corners of his eyes, tracing paths through the dust on his temples.
'I'm still so useless…' The thought was a vise, crushing his heart.
Seeing Giyuu about to sink into an even deeper abyss of self-pity, Akira turned his head and caught Sabito's eye. The look was pointed, a silent command. Your turn.
Sabito's expression flickered with uncertainty. Me?
"Kanzaki Akira! You've gone too far!"
Sabito snapped into character in a heartbeat. Or perhaps it wasn't an act at all. Having been forced to watch Giyuu be systematically broken down, a fire of genuine anger was already simmering just beneath his surface. After roaring at Akira with a half-truthful fury, he rushed to Giyuu's side, crouching down to check on him.
"Giyuu, are you okay?" Sabito asked with genuine concern, his hands hovering over Giyuu's body, checking for injuries. He found only the bump on his head from the fall and breathed an internal sigh of relief.
Giyuu's expression was numb, his eyes hollow. He was like a puppet, letting Sabito move him without resistance.
After Sabito called his name a few more times, Giyuu's gaze finally drifted and focused on his friend's face. He stared for a long moment before his voice emerged, low and broken. "Leave me alone… I'm just a failure…"
With that, he seemed to retreat back into himself, his posture screaming, 'Just let me die here.'
Watching Giyuu's complete self-abandonment, the anger Sabito had just vented flared anew. He instantly recalled the method Akira had discussed with him the night before. Without another word, he drew back his hand and slapped Giyuu across the face.
SLAP!
The sound was shockingly crisp. Akira, watching from the side, instinctively touched his own cheek. A bright red handprint was already blooming on Giyuu's face; Sabito had truly put his strength into it.
Makomo finally couldn't bear it and took a step forward. Akira immediately put a hand out to stop her. She opened her mouth to protest, but he just gave her a look that said, Wait. Be patient.
She turned her worried gaze to Urokodaki Sakonji. Seeing the old man watching Sabito and Giyuu in silence, his expression unreadable behind his mask, she could only remain where she was, her heart aching for her two friends.
Giyuu was now covering his cheek, his gaze fixed on Sabito, filled with utter disbelief. Even his tears had stopped.
'So that's what he meant by "just the right amount of force,"' Akira thought, wincing in sympathy. 'Enough to stun, not to injure.'
"Your sister sacrificed her life to save you so you could lie here and abandon yourself to die?!" Sabito roared, his voice cracking with emotion.
Perhaps he saw a reflection of the path he himself had almost taken in Giyuu. How many who joined the Demon Slayer Corps didn't carry a tragic past? How many had been forced to watch their loved ones die before their very eyes? It was the very reason they were all willing to risk their lives fighting demons.
Sabito was no different. He, too, had seen his family killed, powerless to stop it. He understood that feeling intimately and had nearly become the self-destructive wreck Giyuu was now. But he had rallied, throwing himself into his training with a desperate ferocity, vowing to never be so powerless again.
"If your strength isn't enough, then train! Learn! Fight until you can't stand! Don't just lie here thinking about ending your life!"
After shouting his piece, Sabito stood up, turning his back on the stunned Giyuu. But as he did, he couldn't help but add in a softer, choked murmur, "At least let your sister know her sacrifice wasn't in vain. Let her know that what she saved was her most beloved, most proud younger brother… not a failure."
Giyuu remained on the ground, his hand still pressed to his face in a daze. But the suffocating aura of death that had clung to him had vanished. In its place, it seemed something new was beginning to sprout.
Akira noticed that Sabito's eyes were a little red now. He could see them clearly because Sabito was walking directly toward him.
When he reached Akira, Sabito stopped and, without a word, threw a punch at his chest. The blow looked powerful and heavy, but at the last possible moment, he pulled the force from it, turning it into a light tap.
"Thank you," Sabito said, his voice thick with a complex mix of gratitude and lingering frustration. He then walked off to the side to begin his own training.
Akira's method had been rough, and it had nearly pushed Giyuu over the edge completely, but the result was, for now, a success. It still left a bitter taste in Sabito's mouth, though.
Makomo gave Akira a complicated look, her gaze shifting to Giyuu, who had now sat up but was still staring blankly into the distance. Unsure of what to say, she simply walked away to continue her own practice. She knew Giyuu needed time alone.
Finally, Urokodaki stepped forward. He placed a heavy hand on Akira's shoulder and looked at him, a deep and knowing gaze. Then, without a word, he turned and walked away to oversee Sabito and Makomo's training.
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