3 Vol. II Demon Slayer: Floating Comment

"Sorry, sorry! My bad. I should've asked before jumping in."

Tanjiro dabbed some ointment on the large lump swelling on Genya's forehead, his hands moving with care.

"Watch it! That hurts!" Genya snapped, glaring at him through half-closed eyes.

It was strange. By all logic, the force of a headbutt should affect both sides equally. But here Genya was, dizzy and seated on the ground with a bump the size of a rice ball on his head, while Tanjiro looked as energetic as ever, his forehead unscathed and gleaming as if nothing had happened.

Haruto, watching from the side, marveled aloud. "Unbelievable. If you'd been born in ancient times, armies would've used you as a battering ram."

After explaining the purpose of their visit, Tanjiro retrieved his Nichirin sword from inside the house. He scratched the back of his head sheepishly.

"I've been practicing, but… I don't really know why. Without a clear reason, it's hard to stay motivated."

Haruto glanced at the small heads peeking out from behind the door. A parade of curious children. He couldn't just blurt out demons. Most people's first reaction to the unknown is denial, after all.

While Haruto hesitated, Genya scoffed impatiently.

"No wolves in the mountains? No bears? Learning to defend yourself isn't some grand mystery. Or do you think that skull of yours can knock out a bear too?"

Tanjiro puffed out his cheeks. "I'm sorry!"

"I'm not asking you to apologize!"

"You're right, though. I should train harder!" Tanjiro nodded earnestly. "For the past two months, I've been following a regimen from a training manual. My sword techniques haven't improved much, but I've gotten a lot better at using my head!"

"Stop talking about your head already!" Genya growled, leaping to his feet. "I'm gonna beat some sense into you, you blockhead!"

Haruto stepped back a few paces, intrigued as he watched the two boys square off.

Though Genya held back significantly, years of training under Haruto still gave him the upper hand. Tanjiro, despite his determination and hard work, couldn't match Genya's strength or skill.

The younger children gasped and cheered from the sidelines, practically vibrating with excitement.

"Go, big brother!"
"Tanjiro, you can do it!"
"Knock out that rooster-head!"

"Enough with the rooster-head!" Genya roared as he launched Tanjiro backward with a kick, his patience snapping. "My name's Genya! Genya Shinazugawa! Not rooster-head!"

Haruto, who'd been privately calling him that in his head for years, rubbed his nose guiltily and gave Genya an encouraging grin.

"You've got this, Genya!"

Nearby, Takeo pouted, his teary eyes narrowing at Haruto. "Big brother, didn't you say you wanted to take my brother as your apprentice? Why are you cheering for him?"

"Because," Haruto replied with a mischievous smile, "I only want your brother as my apprentice. But Genya already is my apprentice. And to prove that your brother has no taste in mentors, Genya's going to beat him senseless."

Haruto leaned casually against the porch, his arm resting on his knee. He turned to Takeo with a sly look.

"See how amazing my apprentice is? Don't you want to be the backbone of your family, just like him? Join me, and you—"

"I don't wanna!" Takeo whined, turning away with puffed cheeks. "Go, brother!"

What a brat, Haruto thought, amused.

Although Tanjiro had talent, it paled compared to the prodigies in the Demon Slayer Corps. Against Genya, who combined natural ability with relentless effort, Tanjiro was completely outclassed.

By the time the scuffle ended, Tanjiro was a panting mess, his arms limp at his sides and sweat streaming down his flushed face.

Genya, barely winded, crossed his arms and glared down at him, the proud expression on his face slightly undercut by the swollen lump on his forehead.

"My… arms…" Tanjiro muttered, struggling to lift them.

Haruto handed a small tube of ointment to Nezuko, who had been watching quietly.

"Clean his arms and apply this three times a day. He'll be fine in no time."

Then, turning back to Tanjiro, he sighed softly. "Tanjiro."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Haruto. I must've disappointed you." Tanjiro's tone was heavy with guilt. "I could tell Genya was holding back, but I still couldn't land a hit."

"That wasn't even a warm-up for Genya," Haruto said, ruffling Tanjiro's dark red hair. "But there's no need to apologize. You have potential, but you've lacked proper guidance. I know you don't understand why you need to learn swordsmanship or breathing techniques yet. I'll explain it next time… though you'll figure it out eventually."

He pressed a small pouch of coins into Tanjiro's hand.

"Mr. Haruto, I can't accept this!" Tanjiro protested, shaking his head. "I've been earning plenty selling charcoal, and I'll return the money you lent me soon."

"It's for your siblings' health," Haruto whispered. "Your brother's skin-and-bones, and Nezuko needs a new kimono. Take it and focus on training instead of working yourself to exhaustion."

Before Tanjiro could argue, Haruto added, "I'll be back in a few months to check your progress. If you don't want to lose face in front of your siblings, work harder."

As they walked away, Tanjiro watched from the mountain's edge, his arm too sore to wave. He clutched the coins tightly, his resolve hardening.

There was no malice in Haruto's scent—just kindness and care. Genya's, too, was full of unspoken warmth.

"Why help me?" Tanjiro wondered. But Haruto was right. His siblings needed better food, and Nezuko really did need a new kimono.

And he… he couldn't afford to disappoint Haruto's expectations.

On the way down the mountain, Haruto glanced at Genya, who was walking beside him with a self-satisfied grin.

"You're so kind, Genya," Haruto teased, ruffling his hair. "If it were me, I'd have given Tanjiro a matching set of black eyes."

Genya, his swollen lump already turning a deep purple, grinned even wider. "Nah, you wouldn't."