17 Demon Slayer: Floating Comment

When Haruto slowly regained consciousness, he couldn't quite distinguish if he was dreaming or awake. Had time really rewound, or was this some bizarre trick of his mind?

It wasn't until two figures appeared before him that reality finally settled in.

Sabito: "???"
Giyu: "⊙_⊙"

Haruto shut his eyes and opened them again, letting out a long sigh when he confirmed this wasn't a dream.

Good news: the Nure-Onna and the Gyūki were defeated, and he wasn't dead.

Bad news…

"Why are you here?"

The moment he spoke, a sharp pain flared in his chest, making it hard to breathe, let alone talk.

He directed his question at Sabito, whose sudden appearance made no sense. The last person Haruto remembered seeing before blacking out was Murata.

Sabito noticed the pain etched on Haruto's face and quickly motioned for him to stop talking.

"Four of your ribs are broken. You'll need at least two weeks of rest. As for me… my assigned mission was in Ueno, just half a day from here. I was actually looking for Giyu, but imagine my surprise to find you here as well."

"And… where is here?" Haruto asked, glancing around the unfamiliar room.

The decor was strange yet calming. The wisteria motifs painted on the walls gave him a clue.

"This is one of the Wisteria Houses," Sabito explained. "It's run by the Fujikasane family. Since it's close to where your fight happened, they brought you here to recover. Giyu and I are also resting here after our own battles."

Haruto finally noticed the injuries on the two of them. Sabito had a bandage wrapped around his arm, and Giyu sported several shallow cuts along both forearms.

"I thought I saw Murata before I passed out?" Haruto asked hesitantly.

"Oh, that guy? Completely unharmed. He's already gone home."

"Completely unharmed…"

Haruto's voice trailed off. They had been on the same mission to slay demons, yet here he was bedridden for two weeks while Murata walked away without a scratch.

Maybe… I'm just that weak.

The two young men noticed the sudden change in Haruto's energy, the subtle slump in his shoulders.

"Uh, G?" Sabito exchanged a confused glance with Giyu, unsure of what had triggered the shift.

Haruto stared up at the wooden ceiling, feeling the weight of his thoughts. A single-handed demon, a pair of nameless demons… They had nearly killed him with ease.

If he ever encountered one of the Twelve Demon Moons—especially even a Lower Rank—he'd be as good as dead.

Am I going to die like this?

The thought ate away at him. Images of Hashira cutting down Lower Rank demons with ease flooded his mind. He, meanwhile, was like a beaten dog before them.

Sabito sighed inwardly at the sight of Haruto's sinking demeanor. In this world, plagued by man-eating demons, despair often stemmed from weakness. He nudged Giyu and gestured for them to step outside, giving Haruto some time alone.

Four days later, both Sabito and Giyu received new missions and left the Wisteria House. The demons wreaking havoc across the land left no room for the Demon Slayer Corps to rest.

Haruto's body, strengthened by his training in breathing techniques, recovered surprisingly fast. Within a week, his injuries were nearly healed.

After bidding farewell to the Wisteria House's kind caretakers, he boarded a carriage to Tokyo and then a train to return to the Swordsmith Village.

Two weeks had passed since his injury. The village looked the same as always. He was greeted by Gotokawa, who visibly relaxed upon seeing him safe. The next day, Gotokawa bought a pile of bones to make nourishing soup for Haruto.

Despite the warmth of being home, Haruto couldn't shake the unease lingering in his chest.

Then, Gotokawa shared a piece of news that made it worse.

"Shinjuro Rengoku's wife… she passed away."

Haruto froze.

"It happened last week, while you were out on your mission. You should go pay your respects."

"…I will." Haruto's expression darkened.

Shinjuro and his wife, Ruka, had shared a deep bond. They had two sons: Kyojuro and Senjuro.

When Haruto arrived at the Rengoku residence, the sun was setting. Black and white mourning banners hung outside the home. A boy with striking red-and-yellow hair was sweeping the front yard. His large, owl-like eyes glanced up at Haruto.

"Excuse me…"

"I'm Rengoku Kyojuro," the boy introduced himself. "Please, come in. Mother has already been laid to rest, but we've set up a shrine inside."

Haruto nodded. "I'm Haruto Takanashi of the Demon Slayer Corps. I was Shinjuro-san's apprentice, in a way. I came to offer my condolences."

Kyojuro led him inside. Kneeling in front of the shrine was a smaller boy who wiped his tear-streaked face upon noticing the visitor.

"This is my younger brother, Senjuro."

Haruto respectfully knelt before Ruka's spirit tablet. Though he had never met her, Shinjuro had spoken of her kindness and strength often.

The sound of wooden sandals on the floor signaled the arrival of Shinjuro Rengoku.

"Who's here?" His voice was rough.

"Haruto?" Shinjuro blinked at the sight of his former apprentice.

Haruto bowed. "Shinjuro-san."

Shinjuro's gaze lingered on the Nichirin blade at Haruto's side, his expression darkening.

"If you've paid your respects, you can leave now."

"Father…" Kyojuro began hesitantly.

Haruto frowned slightly. Something was wrong.

Shinjuro looked like a completely different man. His once vibrant demeanor had been replaced by unkempt hair, bloodshot eyes, and a hollowed-out spirit.

The loss of his wife had devastated him.

"Understood," Haruto said softly. "I'll take my leave."

As he stood, his movements inadvertently pulled at his still-healing ribs. Pain shot through his chest, and he stifled a groan, his forehead breaking into a cold sweat.

"Are you alright?" Kyojuro hurried to steady him.

"I'm fine," Haruto muttered, unwilling to worry them further.

But Shinjuro, observing Haruto's pained expression, suddenly muttered, "Useless…"

Haruto froze, staring at him in shock.

The words were harsh—cutting.

And they were directed at him.

Shinjuro met his gaze, his lips curling into a bitter smile.

"We're both useless," he said quietly.