Demon Slayer: My Eyes Can See Floating Comments

By the time Haruto arrived at Mount Sagiri, the sun was already dipping below the horizon.

Earlier that day, he'd sent Sora—the parrot with an affinity for blue skies—to deliver a message to Gotokawa: I'm heading to Mount Sagiri soon.

The reply he received was unexpected: Your swordsmith, Hotaru Haganezuka, is waiting for you at Swordsmith Village to discuss your Nichirin Blade.

Haruto: "???!!!"

So much for avoiding the inevitable, huh?

It all made sense now—the reason why Oyakata-sama chuckled so mischievously when Haruto mentioned he'd rather not deal with Haganezuka.

"Guess I should bring some Mitarashi Dango back for him later," Haruto muttered to himself, resigning to the thought. "Maybe that'll soften the blow for showing up late."

At the wooden cabin perched on the mountainside, Haruto was greeted by Sakonji Urokodaki, the current Water Hashira. The older man's hair was stark white, and he wore a Tengu mask identical to the one used by Sabito and Makomo. His calm yet mysterious aura fit the image perfectly.

Next to him stood a petite, delicate-looking girl in a plum-patterned short kimono. Her long, dark green hair framed her bright, innocent face.

She tilted her head slightly and offered Haruto a shy smile.

After exchanging greetings with Urokodaki, Haruto handed over the gift he'd brought from the village below. Then, he turned to the girl and pulled a neatly wrapped package from his pack.

"A little something for you."

Makomo's emerald eyes widened with surprise and delight. "For me?"

"Yes," Haruto replied matter-of-factly. "I heard there was a younger sister here, so I picked this up on the way. It's nothing fancy, but I hope you'll accept it."

Bringing gifts when visiting someone's home was just common courtesy, wasn't it? Haruto thought. Frankly, returning empty-handed would've been odd.

The two boys beside him, however, looked stunned.

Sabito frowned, disbelief etched on his face.

"When did you even have time to buy that?"

Giyu blinked, then shrugged. "I had money but… I forgot."

"…You might've been better off saying nothing," Haruto remarked dryly.

Makomo, beaming, thanked him profusely before disappearing back into the house with her gift.

The cabin wasn't large, but it comfortably housed the four of them, creating a warm, homely atmosphere.

Sakonji proved to be as approachable as Haruto had heard. In fact, he seemed pleased to see Giyu making an effort to converse with their guest, even if his usual stoic demeanor remained intact.

Later, they set up a cooking station outside, where Sakonji prepared an abundance of meat and vegetables. Sabito, watching the bounty, exhaled in relief.

"Master pulled out all the stops, hasn't he?" he murmured to Haruto.

Sakonji, overhearing, paused before replying, "Not really. But I did hear about you from Haganezuka."

The memory seemed to amuse him. "He told me you once ate an entire pig by yourself at ten years old."

"…That story's exaggerated," Haruto grumbled.

"Even Oyakata-sama seems familiar with you," Sabito added.

"Well, I did grow up in Swordsmith Village," Haruto admitted. "I run into Oyakata-sama and the Hashira a lot there."

As night fell, Haruto knelt by the fire, expertly skewering marinated fish and planting them into the soil near the flames.

"If there were a lotus pond nearby, we could wrap these in lotus leaves, coat them with mud, and bury them in the fire," he explained. "The mud hardens and cracks open when cooked, leaving the fish inside tender and juicy. It's an old Chinese cooking method."

Makomo and Giyu sat by the fire, listening intently. Makomo's eyes sparkled with curiosity, while Giyu's stoic expression gave nothing away. Still, his attention was unwavering.

Once dinner was over, Haruto turned to Sakonji and revealed the reason for his visit.

"Your swordsmanship is remarkable, but it struggles to harmonize with your Breathing Techniques," Sakonji observed thoughtfully after hearing him out.

Haruto nodded, his expression solemn. "I've only mastered five forms of Flame Breathing so far."

"Show me."

Setting his chopsticks down, Haruto retrieved his Nichirin Blade and stepped into the clearing.

Exhibiting Flame Breathing in front of Water Breathing swordsmen felt… awkward, to say the least. But he inhaled deeply, entering Total Concentration.

"Flame Breathing: First Form—"

Fire blazed along the blade as Haruto unleashed a fierce strike. The glowing embers illuminated Sakonji's crimson mask as he watched closely.

When it was over, Haruto gasped for breath, his limbs trembling from the strain.

Sakonji remained silent for a moment before speaking. "No offense, but I think you should abandon Flame Breathing."

"…What?" Haruto blinked, startled.

The older man approached, his hands slipping out of his sleeves.

"You've met Kyojuro Rengoku, haven't you? What do you think of him?"

Haruto hesitated, then replied, "Rengoku-san is… passionate. No matter how often I disturbed him during training, he never showed any irritation."

"That passion is what makes him an exceptional Flame Breathing swordsman," Sakonji explained. "Flame Breathing requires a fiery spirit and an unwavering conviction, like an inferno burning within. Unfortunately, I don't see those qualities in you."

Though his tone was calm, Sakonji's words hit like a hammer: "You've chosen the wrong path. This road will not lead you to success."

"The wrong… path?" Haruto murmured, placing a hand over his chest. His heart beat steadily, but he lacked the blazing fervor he had seen in Rengoku.

"Your swordsmanship is excellent, on par with the Hashira," Sakonji continued, "but your inability to integrate Breathing Techniques is a matter of talent. That's not something training can easily fix."

He paused before offering a piece of advice. "Find something that can ignite your passion. Or… consider joining the Hidden Division, where the dangers are fewer."

Disappointed but determined to remain respectful, Haruto bowed deeply. "Thank you for your guidance."

As the night wore on, doubts lingered in Haruto's mind. Would he have to stumble forward blindly forever?

"Don't lose hope," Sabito said, clapping a hand on his shoulder. His silver eyes glimmered with reassurance. "There's always a solution."

Meanwhile, Giyu turned to Makomo. "What did Haruto give you?"

"Giyu!" Makomo scolded, flustered.

"I was just curious."

"It's none of your business!"

Inside the house, Makomo's Nichirin Blade rested on its stand, now adorned with a newly attached wisteria-themed tassel. Even the wrapping cloth Haruto had used was neatly folded and tucked into a drawer.

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