11 Vol. II Demon Slayer: Floating Comment

Cool fingertips pressed against his face, pulling down Haruto's eyelids for inspection.

His lips were tugged downward, exposing his neatly aligned teeth.

Next came his ears, his hairline, and even his fingernails.

In Tamayo's hands, Haruto felt less like a human being and more like a dog being evaluated for the purity of its lineage.

After the battle with Douma, Himejima Gyomei returned to headquarters as soon as possible to share the details of the Upper Moon's fighting style with Oyakata-sama. Meanwhile, Shinobu Kocho arrived late to the scene and paled when she learned that both her elder sister Kanae and Haruto had barely survived their confrontation with the Upper Rank Two. She clung tightly to her sister, refusing to let go.

"If I let go," Shinobu murmured, trembling, "she might really leave me."

Haruto, exhausted from the fight, rested for a long while. The effects of the anti-demon serum slowly faded, leaving behind an aching soreness in his muscles. Still, he smiled. He'd managed to kick yet another demon off the mortal plane.

After sending the Kocho sisters back to rest, Haruto limped his way to Tamayo's clinic in Asakusa.

Yushiro scrutinized him for what felt like an eternity, glaring as if he could drill holes through Haruto with his eyes. Tamayo, on the other hand, finally exhaled softly and wiped her hands with a damp towel.

Haruto's gaze was intense and expectant. "I'm fine, right? Right?"

Tamayo pondered for a moment before replying, "Prepare for surgery."

"Wait—surgery? What surgery?"

"Your hand," Tamayo said calmly. "The reason it's still in so much pain is that although the surface wound has healed, the internal damage from the piercing injury remains. It's not bleeding anymore, but I'll need to reopen it, apply medicine, and—" She trailed off, glancing at her notes. "We'll also need to figure out why the anti-demon serum caused this kind of reaction."

After a brief pause, she added, "As for the frostbite on your face—it's fully healed now, but when winter comes, you'd better wrap your face up properly. Otherwise, it'll be unbearable."

"And… aside from those?" Haruto allowed himself a small sigh of relief.

"For now, you can rest easy," Tamayo reassured him. "Based on your current condition, you haven't turned into anything… other than human." She hesitated slightly. "Genya's blood seems to be stabilizing inside you."

"For now, huh…" Haruto chuckled bitterly, shaking his head. There was no point dwelling on "later" or "future" when Muzan Kibutsuji still roamed the earth.

As Tamayo went inside to fetch her medical tools, Yushiro—his admiring gaze following her every step—suddenly turned to Haruto, his expression transforming.

He slid across the floor toward Haruto, stopping just short of colliding. His wide, intense eyes locked onto Haruto's.

"Well?" Yushiro demanded.

"Uh…?" Haruto blinked, confused. For once, he felt a bit bad for mentally referring to Yushiro as "that little green-haired punk." Maybe he actually cared about Haruto's condition? "I'm fine, I guess. My hand's just a little—"

"Who cares about your health?!" Yushiro interrupted, practically growling. "I'm asking—how dare you?! How dare you let Lady Tamayo touch your face! You should commit seppuku to atone for this blessing you didn't deserve!"

"…"

Haruto froze, his face blank.

Ah, there it is. Classic green-haired punk.

Despite wanting to delay it, Haruto eventually made his way back to the Swordsmith Village. A swordsman without a Nichirin blade was like a beast without fangs—practically defenseless.

Bracing himself for a furious Hotaru Haganezuka, Haruto came prepared, armed with a mountain of Mitarashi Dango as a peace offering.

It had been a year since he'd last been here. Gotokawa hadn't changed much.

When Gotokawa noticed Haruto had returned alone once again, the old man let out a long, weary sigh. "Haganezuka has gone into seclusion on the mountain to forge a blade that won't break for you."

"Master Gotokawa…" Haruto rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "I…"

"Master Gotokawa."

Eh? Did I mishear?

Haruto lightly tapped his ears with his palms, testing his hearing.

"Master Gotokawa."

That thin, sharp voice came again. Haruto looked down, realizing the source was a small child standing below him, arms akimbo.

The child, perhaps six or seven, wore a small fireman's mask. His black hair was tied into a ponytail with a simple cord, and he sported a sleeveless haori with the kanji for "Fireman" emblazoned on the back.

"It's Kotetsu Jr.," Gotokawa said warmly, gesturing to the boy. "Everything you need is on the table."

"Wait, who's this little guy?" Haruto asked, glancing between the two. "Is he your new apprentice, Master Gotokawa?"

The boy turned his face toward Haruto, his tone unimpressed.

"Hardly. You're the one Master Gotokawa called his unlucky, forever-single apprentice destined to die alone, aren't you?"

—Silence.—

Haruto puffed out his cheeks, glaring at Gotokawa.

The old man coughed awkwardly, looking away.

"Hey, kid!" Haruto crouched down, poking at the boy's mask with a finger. "Where'd you learn to talk like that? That's no way to speak to an elder!"

"Smack!" The boy swatted Haruto's hand aside. "It's rude to go around poking people!"

"And hitting people is rude too!"

"Well, scolding people for being rude is even ruder!"

After a round of back-and-forth bickering, Haruto finally straightened up, letting out a huff.

"So, you're Motozawa's kid, huh? You've grown so much!"

Haruto remembered him well. The boy came from a line of master blacksmiths renowned during the Sengoku period. Unfortunately, much of their knowledge had been lost to time. By the time the boy's father inherited the craft, the family's skills had declined.

The boy's father passed away young, leaving him to grow up under the care of the village. Haruto had seen him around many times before.

The boy adjusted his mask, walking into the house to retrieve blueprints from the low table.

"Thank you, Master Gotokawa."

"Not staying for dinner?"

"No, I'd rather study these plans tonight," the boy replied, shaking his head. "As the only one left in my family, I have to work hard."

Clutching the blueprints, the boy trotted off. Watching him leave, Gotokawa sighed deeply.

"His father was so young too… Gone far too soon."

"Master."

"Hm?"

Gotokawa turned, startled by Haruto's scrunched-up expression.

"'Destined to die alone'… Really? That actually came out of your mouth?"

"I-I was joking! You're 18 and still single—it just slipped out!"