Chp3 - A Final Talk

"So," Takeshi said, "I've been wondering, Gekkou… why do you want to become a Demon Slayer?"

Gekkou looked up at the much larger man, whose frame loomed over him, before answering with a question of his own.

"Answer me this first—why did you want to become a Demon Slayer?"

Takeshi looked at Gekkou in disdain, his deflection of the question irritating him to his very core.

"Ah, annoying to the end, I see. I figured as much. Still, I thought I'd give you the chance to speak for yourself—like a man, for once."

Takeshi sat up quickly, starting to descend the roof, when Gekkou cut in again.

"Well, I asked you a question too. You going to answer it, or just walk away?"

Takeshi turned back, irritation in his face, before walking back over to where Gekkou sat. Above them, the night sky shimmered with stars, the darkness softened by the cold light.

"It's simple enough, I guess. I've no reason to hide it—I wanted to honor my family's bloodline, simple as that."

"Oh? Surprised a brute like you even has one," Gekkou replied, a dry hint of mockery in his tone.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, you malnourished bamboo stalk. Though you're not entirely wrong. They're all gone," Takeshi said, casting his gaze toward the swaying trees surrounding the lush estate.

"Oh? And how did that happen?" Gekkou asked flatly.

"Straight to the point, huh? You really do lack any tact, you know that?"

"I hear that a lot," Gekkou muttered.

"Well, I never told you how I met the Master. So I might as well tell you now—seeing as I head out in a couple days for the Final Selection."

"I think you've earned it… after how many times I've beaten you up?" Takeshi added with a crooked, boyish grin.

"It was a couple months before he brought you into the estate, actually. Though once you arrived, you quickly became the least of my problems."

At that, Gekkou slightly gnashed his teeth but quickly masked the expression.

"It was the heart of the Fuyu season. Snow blanketed everything, and my body was failing. I had lost all hope. You could see it in my eyes. The cold—it sank into my bones."

"I was running for my life. Yeah, yeah—I know. Coward's move. But I left my family behind." Takeshi's amber eyes twitched with disgust.

"My mother… my little sister… I left them there to rot—to be ripped apart by some demon bastard. I'll never forget its face. An old, shriveled thing. Leathery skin, teeth yellowed like old parchment, and reptilian eyes that stared straight through me."

Thud.

Takeshi slammed his hand down into the roof tile, cracking it slightly. He took a deep breath before continuing.

"The Master found me the next day. I was a wreck—just some sniveling boy lost in the woods, mumbling nonsense. That's why I train, Gekkou. That's why I fight. That's why my conviction doesn't waver!"

Takeshi's voice rose, breaking through his usual composure. For a moment, the weight he carried flared into something fierce and unrestrained.

"Wow. Quite the story," Gekkou said, after a pause. The two sat in silence for a while.

"So, I answered your question. Now answer mine," Takeshi said, his tone firm and expectant.

"Oh, you want my story?" Gekkou said dryly. "Very well. It's not as grand as yours."

"I grew up in a small fishing village about three days from here. It was a complete shithole."

"My mother was apparently a prostitute—some worthless creature I never cared to meet. The thought that I came from something like that… it disgusts me."

Gekkou's dark gray eyes narrowed with visible contempt.

"Fortunately, I never knew her. She left me to die, or so I was told."

"After that, I scraped by doing small jobs—whatever I could to eat. Then the Master found me on one of his travels."

"For everything he's done for me, I'll always be grateful. That's why I want to become a Demon Slayer. To become someone who's remembered. Someone immortalized," Gekkou said, his voice low but burning with purpose.

Takeshi gave a understanding grunt, and the boys fell into another long silence, each lost in his own thoughts.

As the first light of morning crept across the horizon, a crisp scent on the air, Takeshi finally spoke again.

"You ever think about the students who came before us?"

"No. Not particularly," Gekkou answered.

"Yeah. Figured as much," Takeshi said with a nod, before walking away.

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A couple of days passed as both boys silently went about their duties—Gekkou training from daybreak to night, while Takeshi made his final arrangements before heading out.

The trip to Mount Fujikasane was a few weeks' travel from the estate, so preparing was a crucial step for Takeshi.

He had spent the last couple of weeks hunting deer and curing their meat for the journey, which, as a bonus, also sharpened his already impressive skills.

When the morning came for Takeshi to leave for the Selection, Gekkou stopped him at the front gate of the estate, which enclosed the full compound in a thick stone wall.

Gekkou leaned against the sturdy wall, which looked as if it had witnessed many generations rise and fall.

His gray eyes carried their usual sluggish demeanor. Takeshi could clearly tell the boy had pulled another all-nighter, his body still as wispy as ever.

But as Takeshi walked past Gekkou with all his luggage, Gekkou simply eyed him, a slight annoyance on his face.

"Hey, Gekkou…"

"What."

"I don't think I'll be coming back to the estate for a while."

"Okay," Gekkou replied, an irritated huff in his voice.

"Yeah, I figured you'd respond like that. You're an asshole, after all."

Gekkou simply grunted at Takeshi's words, staring down at the thin veil of pure white snow covering the ground.

"I've made arrangements with Master Kurokawa—after I finish Final Selection, I'll be staying with him while my sword is being made."

"You know, I always found it a nuisance how much he traveled, but I guess it's lucky he'll be in the area after my initiation," Takeshi said, his breath visible in the cold air.

"Is that all?" Gekkou asked, raising an eyebrow at the boy, his arms crossed to keep in what little warmth he could.

Takeshi laughed to himself for a second as he walked away, then added one final comment.

"You know, Gekkou, it was an honor training with you… even if you were more of a pathetic punching bag."

Gekkou scoffed at his words before walking back into the estate. The two boys were walking in different directions—two sides of the same coin.

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Many weeks passed as Gekkou lived a solitary existence, his thick, long black hair growing even more ragged and disheveled.

Each day, he had to hunt for food or cure the meat he'd hunted earlier. He also had to constantly boil water to drink and make sure he had enough fuel to light the irori so he wouldn't freeze to death.

With each passing day, he grew quieter and quieter, until eventually, he stopped speaking altogether.

The constant need to gather everything necessary for survival made his days feel longer, yet he still refused to shorten his training.

Each night, he could barely get any sleep, plagued by paranoia—always alert. His insomnia only worsened as the days went on.

The winter days moved quickly, each one blurring into the day before and the day after.

It reached the point where Gekkou would fall asleep while meditating—a disgraceful act he had never committed before.

Though Gekkou refused to admit it to himself, he had started to miss company. His solitary training made him even more focused on his goals.

To the point where every waking moment was consumed by a single thought: getting stronger, getting better—becoming more. More than Takeshi.

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Takeshi meditated on a large boulder as he took in his surroundings, the potent smell of wisteria filling his nostrils.

He had done it—after weeks of constant travel through harsh elements, he had made it to the triannual Final Selection.

Around him were what looked to be seventy participants of all shapes and sizes, though to Takeshi's surprise, most of them appeared to be his age or younger—except for one hulking man.

Though he refused to underestimate them, he could tell each one of them had their own scars and stories. No one became a Slayer without a good reason…

Time passed as the remaining few made their way to the top of the mountain, the wisteria in full, beautiful bloom despite the harsh season.

Some of the participants were talking to each other, others, like Takeshi, sat alone. But one man in particular stood out to him.

The man was massive—much larger than even Takeshi, with twice the muscle, a feat few could boast.

He wore a traditional green koromo that hid his monstrous physique. His hair was short and spiky, with a notable scar running across his forehead.

But what struck Takeshi most was the fact that the man was crying.

It would have been comical, if not for the gravity of what they were about to face—a large man like that, weeping.

Yet for all the character he displayed, Takeshi noticed a weakness. His keen eyes picked up on it almost immediately: the man was blind.

Takeshi almost laughed to himself. Becoming a Demon Slayer while blind was a death wish. But even so… this man felt different.

Takeshi could feel the man's strength in every step he took, and he noticed the man's weapon—an unruly hunk of iron, a massive flail and axe combo that Takeshi himself would have a hard time swinging.

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"For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life."

‭‭John‬ ‭3‬:‭16‬ ‭

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