Chapter Text
The Butterfly Mansion was quiet except for the faint rustle of leaves outside. The smell of medicinal herbs clung to the air, warm and faintly bitter. Tanjiro sat on the engawa, coat folded neatly beside him, hands resting loosely on his knees. His muscles still ached from the mission, but his mind was far away — lingering on faces long gone.
Footsteps sounded in the hall, light but purposeful.
Shinobu’s voice came from the doorway.
Shinobu: “Kamado-san, a guest has come for you. Oyakata-sama sent him.”
From behind her stepped a man whose presence was like a wall of stone. The tengu mask hid his face, but the weight of his gaze was unmistakable.
Urokodaki: “Kamado Tanjiro?”
Tanjiro rose and bowed politely.
Tanjiro: “Yes. You must be Urokodaki Sakonji.”
Urokodaki: “I am. Oyakata-sama’s letter said you encountered a demon on Fujikasane Mountain during the Final Selection — one that spoke my name. I came to hear it from you directly.”
Tanjiro’s expression sharpened, memory flashing in his mind.
Tanjiro: “It did speak of you. Its body was… unnatural. Many arms, many hands, all twisted together. When I injured it, I asked why it hunted the other candidates so relentlessly. At first, it laughed at me — a deep, ugly laugh. Then it told me: it was looking for children who wore fox masks.”
Urokodaki’s masked head turned slightly.
Urokodaki: “…Fox masks.”
Tanjiro: “It said it hated them. Said every child it saw wearing one reminded it of someone it failed to kill years ago. When I asked why, it admitted — it had been trapped on that mountain long ago… by you. And every disciple of yours who came there for the Selection… it made sure none of them left alive.”
For a long moment, the air between them was still. The wind outside stirred the trees, but inside, the silence was heavy.
Urokodaki: “…I carved each of those masks myself. They were meant as protection charms, not targets.”
His voice was steady, but there was a strain beneath it — the kind of quiet grief that had been carried for far too many years.
Tanjiro: “It wasn’t just killing at random. It remembered them. It counted them. It was proud of it.”
Urokodaki’s hands clenched at his sides.
Urokodaki: “Then you ended its hunt. That was a debt I should have paid myself. You spared others from its hands — for that, I am in your debt.”
He stepped forward, his stance formal.
Urokodaki: “If you will accept, I will teach you my style — Water Breathing. It’s all I have to give, but I believe you will use it to protect the living, not just to cut down the dead.”
Tanjiro bowed again, his voice calm and sure.
Tanjiro: “I accept. And I’ll carry it forward — so no one else will have to wear a charm that becomes a mark for death.”
The two men stood for a moment in the fading light, shadows stretching across the polished floor. No more words were needed. The bond was forged not by shared past, but by the will to guard the future.