The soft glow of candlelight wavered against the wooden walls of the Ubuyashiki estate, casting long shadows that danced with every flicker. Seated with quiet composure before Kagaya Ubuyashiki, Yoriichi Tsugikuni remained unmoving, his presence as still and unwavering as a mountain. His expression was unreadable, yet his very existence carried the weight of an era long past.
Kagaya Ubuyashiki studied him carefully, his pale features serene despite the storm of questions swirling within his mind. The man before him was a legend—one who had lived and died centuries ago, and yet, impossibly, he was here.
"You lived during the Sengoku era," Ubuyashiki spoke at last, his voice calm but laced with a quiet solemnity. "And yet, you stand before me now, unchanged. How can this be, Yoriichi?"
For a moment, silence stretched between them, broken only by the soft crackling of the candle's flame. Yoriichi finally lowered his gaze, his eyes distant, as if recalling something beyond mortal comprehension.
"I do not know," he admitted, his voice steady, carrying neither fear nor hesitation—only an unwavering acceptance of the unknown. "One moment, I stood in my own time… and the next, I awoke in this one."
There was no confusion in his tone, no desperation to understand the impossible. He simply existed, as he always had, bound to a fate that even time itself could not seem to sever.
Ubuyashiki studied him in silence for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, with a calm yet measured voice, he spoke again.
"Giyu has informed me of your encounter with a demon," he said, his tone laced with quiet intrigue. "He described how you cut through it effortlessly… and he also mentioned your breathing style."
Yoriichi inclined his head slightly. "Yes, it is called Sun Breathing."
A brief silence settled between them, the weight of his words lingering in the dimly lit room. Then, his voice, usually so serene, took on a subtle edge—one that carried the faintest trace of frustration.
"And I have encountered Muzan once again."
The air in the room seemed to shift. Though Ubuyashiki's expression remained composed, his eyes sharpened with unmistakable intensity.
"Muzan?" he repeated, his voice calm, yet firm.
Yoriichi's gaze remained steady as he recalled the moment, his memories as vivid as if they had just transpired.
"When I first arrived in this era, I found myself on a snow-covered mountain," he began, his voice carrying the weight of recollection. "It was night, and the only illumination came from the moon above, casting a pale glow upon the frozen landscape." His amber eyes darkened slightly, as if reliving the moment.
"I walked through the snow in silence… until I sensed it—a presence I have never forgotten. A demon's aura, vast and unmistakable. When I sought its source… I saw him." His fingers curled slightly at his sides. "Muzan Kibutsuji."
The mere utterance of that name seemed to make the flickering candlelight waver, as though even the flame itself recoiled from the weight of it.
A shadow flickered across Ubuyashiki's face, subtle yet unmistakable. Though his composure remained unshaken, there was a weight in his silence, an intensity in his gaze as he absorbed Yoriichi's words.
Yoriichi's expression, usually unreadable, held a rare glimmer of frustration as he continued, his voice firm but tinged with something deeper—something dangerously close to anger.
"As soon as he laid eyes on me, he fled," he said, his fists clenching slightly at his sides. "I had only just seen him… and already, he was gone. He did not hesitate, did not fight—he vanished before I could so much as raise my blade against him." His amber eyes darkened. "That regret still lingers within me."
The room was silent for a long moment, the candlelight wavering as if it, too, was weighed down by the gravity of his words. Then, Ubuyashiki let out a slow, measured breath.
"Then we must not waste any time," he said at last, his voice calm but carrying a quiet urgency. "Yoriichi… you understand what this means, don't you?" His pale fingers rested lightly against the wooden armrest of his seat. "If Muzan has appeared before you, it is not mere chance. There must be a reason."
His gaze held steady, searching Yoriichi's face for understanding. "Muzan does not act without purpose. He has ruled from the shadows for centuries, evading the Corps' grasp at every turn. That he showed himself to you so soon after your arrival in this era… it is no coincidence."
Yoriichi remained silent for a moment, his eyes distant, his mind retracing the memory of that night on the mountain—the eerie stillness, the way Muzan had turned and disappeared into the darkness before he could act.
"…I know," he murmured at last. His voice, though soft, carried the weight of unwavering determination. "And I will not allow him to escape again."
Yoriichi's hands clenched into tight fists at his sides, his amber eyes burning with quiet determination.
"No more sacrifices," he declared, his voice firm, unwavering. "This time, I will end it. I will kill Muzan myself." His gaze met Ubuyashiki's with unshakable resolve. "As an ally of the Demon Slayer Corps, I will not allow any of the Hashira to investigate without me. No one should bear this burden in my place."
Ubuyashiki studied him for a moment before closing his eyes, his expression unreadable. A quiet breath escaped him, as if he were reflecting on the weight of Yoriichi's words. When he opened his eyes again, they held something grave—an understanding of the battle ahead, but also a solemn truth that could not be ignored.
"Your resolve is unwavering," he said softly, his tone carrying both admiration and sorrow. "Just as it was in the past." His pale fingers traced the wooden armrest of his seat, a brief pause stretching between them before he spoke again.
"But there is something you must understand, Yoriichi." His voice, though calm, held the weight of undeniable reality. "Cutting off Muzan's head will not kill him."
The room fell into stillness, the candlelight flickering as if mirroring the shift in the air. The statement lingered between them, heavy and unyielding.
Yoriichi's expression did not waver, but there was something in his gaze—something akin to deep contemplation, or perhaps, recognition.
Ubuyashiki's grip on his cane tightened ever so slightly. "Muzan is unlike any demon you have faced before. His body is not bound by the same limits as others. Decapitation alone is not enough to destroy him." His gaze was steady, unwavering. "You fought him once. You wounded him, drove him into hiding… but even then, he survived."
A shadow passed through Yoriichi's eyes—memories resurfacing, recollections of a battle long past, of a monster who had eluded death when it should have been certain.
"This time must be different," Ubuyashiki continued.
Yoriichi's amber eyes narrowed slightly, his full attention fixed on Ubuyashiki's words. The flickering candlelight cast shadows across his face, but his focus remained unwavering.
"The only way to truly end Muzan's existence," Ubuyashiki began, his voice measured, "is through sunlight."
A silence followed, the weight of the revelation settling heavily in the room. Ubuyashiki's gaze remained steady as he continued.
"Muzan has spent centuries seeking a way to overcome this fatal weakness. His goal is to conquer the sun itself—by obtaining the Blue Spider Lily." His tone was calm, but there was an unmistakable tension beneath it. "However… he has not succeeded. Not yet."
At those words, Yoriichi's expression darkened, his fingers curling slightly. "If he is searching for the Blue Spider Lily, then it means he has not abandoned his ambition. He is still seeking a way to rid himself of the one thing that can truly destroy him."
"Exactly." Ubuyashiki nodded, his expression grave. "That is why we must determine where he was heading. Muzan does not reveal himself without reason." His fingers lightly tapped against his cane, his mind already racing through the implications. "His every action is calculated. If he appeared before you, it was no mere accident."
Yoriichi remained silent for a moment, contemplating the possibility. Muzan had fled the moment their eyes met—an instinctive reaction to fear. But if Muzan had been on that snow-covered mountain, what had drawn him there in the first place?
"…He was searching for something, murmured, more to himself than anyone else. His brows furrowed slightly. "Or someone."
Ubuyashiki inclined his head. "That is what we must uncover." His voice was calm, but his grip on his cane tightened slightly. "If we can determine his destination, we may find the key to stopping him before he succeeds."
Yoriichi's gaze turned distant as he retraced the events of that night, his mind sharpening with recollection.
"There was a house near where I first arrived," he murmured. "The Kamado household. That is where I stayed for the night."
Ubuyashiki absorbed his words in thoughtful silence, his pale features unreadable. Then, after a brief pause, he nodded.
"We must investigate the Kamado household" he declared, his voice calm yet firm. "If Muzan was in that area, then there is a reason. And if you stayed there, Yoriichi… it may not be a coincidence."
The weight of his words hung in the air, the implications clear. But before anything more could be said, a sudden, violent coughing fit wracked Ubuyashiki's frail body. His shoulders trembled as he pressed a hand to his lips, his breathing uneven.
Yoriichi immediately took a step forward, concern flickering in his amber eyes, but before he could act, soft footsteps echoed against the wooden floor. Amane Ubuyashiki, his wife, entered swiftly, kneeling beside him with practiced ease. She gently placed a hand on his back, offering quiet support as his coughs gradually subsided.
A hush settled over the room, the flickering candlelight casting shifting shadows along the walls. Yoriichi watched for a moment before lowering his gaze, then gracefully rose to his feet. With a slight bow of his head, he spoke with quiet respect.
"Thank you for your assistance, Ubuyashiki-sama."
There was much left to be discussed, many questions still unanswered—but for now, he would take his leave. The next step in his path had already become clear.
With that, Yoriichi took his leave, stepping out of the estate alongside Giyu. The quiet evening stretched before them, the last traces of sunlight sinking beneath the horizon. The air had cooled, and a faint breeze stirred the trees, carrying with it the scent of earth and distant rain.
Just as they neared the Demon Slayer Corps' mansion, the sharp sound of flapping wings broke the silence. Kanzaburō, Giyu's crow, descended swiftly, its voice urgent.
"Urgent report! Disturbances at Mount Natagumo—sightings of a demon! Multiple disappearances of citizens!"
Giyu's expression hardened instantly. The weight of responsibility settled upon him, his thoughts already turning toward action.
"I must leave at once to investigate Mount Natagumo," he stated firmly.
Nearby, Yoriichi remained silent for a moment before turning to face him, his gaze steady. "I will accompany you."
Giyu met his eyes, searching for hesitation and finding none. There was no need for further discussion. After a brief pause, he gave a single nod.
"Then let's go together."
The night deepened, shadows stretching long beneath the faint glow of the rising moon. Stars emerged one by one, scattered like distant embers across the vast sky, their light cold yet unwavering. A stillness settled over the land, yet beneath its quiet surface, something unseen stirred—a sense of inevitability, of paths converging once more.