Morning sunlight filtered gently through the broken window of the dilapidated house, spilling across the floor in soft, golden streams.
The girl, having slept soundly through the night, slowly opened her eyes. As if by habit, she turned her head—and there, seated by the wooden table, was her uncle, already awake, quietly wiping down the blade in his hands with a cloth.
"Good morning, Uncle."
At her voice, Soma glanced back, a faint smile appearing on his face.
"Good morning, Kanao."
The girl rose quickly, washed up, and returned to him without delay, her tone carrying a rare note of eagerness. "I'm going to practice swordsmanship."
"I'll join you."
Soma handed her the freshly cleaned Nichirin Sword before following her outside. Along the way, he picked up a wooden practice sword he had carved earlier.
Soon, the sharp, rhythmic sounds of training echoed through the small yard.
Before long, the Kamado family began to wake as well, stepping out one by one to see the man and the girl practicing together at the entrance.
Thin trails of smoke rose into the air as cooking fires were lit, drifting away with the morning breeze.
"Hah…"
With another thrust, Kanao finally stopped, her breathing uneven. Soma dodged aside sowhat awkwardly, watching as she rubbed her arm lightly, having failed to fully rein in her strength.
Shaking his head, he said helplessly, "There's no need to hold back on purpose. You know I'll be fine."
"I know, Uncle."
Kanao tilted her head up, offering a bright, sweet smile. "Next ti, I won't hold back."
Soma chuckled softly, clearly unconvinced. "I'm afraid next ti will be exactly the sa."
He had already seen through her little pretense.
"Co on, let's go eat."
Reaching out, he took her hand and led her inside.
The Kamado family had already prepared a hearty al. With fresh ingredients and Kie's skillful cooking, the food was warm and comforting, and everyone ate with genuine enjoynt. Soma partook as well, eating lightly and sharing a few cups of sake.
By the ti the al ended, the younger children had run off to play, Nezuko had gone to watch over them, and Kie busied herself with washing dishes.
Left seated on the tatami were only Tanjiro, Soma, and Kanao.
Soma poured Tanjiro another cup of sake.
After what had happened the previous night, there was a subtle but undeniable change in the boy. The softness of youth had receded sowhat, replaced by a steadier gaze—one that now held a faint edge.
Tanjiro drank the sake in one go, then looked up at Soma.
"Your father once spoke to you about 'breathing,' didn't he? Did he ever ntion 'forms' as well?"
Tanjiro frowned slightly in confusion. "Forms…? What do you an?"
"I see. Then either he never told you, or perhaps he didn't know himself," Soma said, studying his expression.
Tanjiro remained puzzled.
"The 'breathing' your father spoke of… is actually the 'Sun Breathing'."
"Sun Breathing?"
"Yes. It is also called the origin of all breathing styles—the first and most fundantal form. It was left behind by Yoriichi Tsugikuni, whom your Kamado family has protected for generations. It was he who created it. However, because the power of the Sun Breathing is so overwhelming, it is extrely difficult to inherit. For that reason, the Demon Slayer Corps later derived five basic breathing styles from it."
Soma paused briefly before continuing, his tone calm but deliberate.
"Among all breathing styles, the Sun Breathing is the most effective against demons—far surpassing the others."
This was the first ti Tanjiro had ever heard such things, and the revelation left him visibly stunned.
"And paired with breathing… are the sword forms. These forms allow one to better channel the imnse power generated by the breathing style, bringing it fully into the body's movents."
"Then… does our Kamado family inherit those forms as well?"
"Yes, you do. Your father may not have told you—or perhaps he never realized it himself—but the sword forms that accompany the Sun Breathing have been hidden all along within your family's traditional Hinokami Kagura dance. That dance does not rely contain the breathing style—it also embodies the corresponding forms."
Tanjiro's eyes widened in astonishnt. He had never imagined that the sacred dance passed down through his family carried such profound aning.
Beside him, Kanao listened quietly, her attention fully drawn into the conversation.
"So now, Tanjiro," Soma said, lifting his cup for another sip before setting it down with a faint smile, "could you tell about this Hinokami Kagura?"
"…Of course."
Tanjiro nodded without hesitation.
That imdiate answer caught Soma slightly off guard. He had expected at least a mont of doubt. As he studied the boy more closely, he realized sothing subtle—
The faint wariness Tanjiro once held toward him had lessened considerably.
"However… sir," Tanjiro began, hesitating for a mont before voicing the doubt in his heart, "why do you know so much about these things? In fact, there are matters you understand more clearly than even we of the Kamado family do."
He did not imdiately begin his explanation. Instead, he studied the demon before him with quiet curiosity. Sohow, this being—this demon—seed to know more about the Kamado lineage than he himself did.
Soma, of course, had no intention of revealing the truth. Instead, he answered lightly, a trace of humor in his voice.
"Perhaps I really am the reincarnation of a god or Buddha. To soone like , what you call secrets are nothing more than things plainly seen."
Tanjiro paused, taken aback. Then, after a mont, he replied quietly, "If you truly were a god or Buddha, then you wouldn't need to explain the Hinokami Kagura to you."
"Ha…"
Soma couldn't help but laugh at that, lifting his cup and taking a sip of sake.
"You're right. If gods or Buddhas truly walked this world, then demons would have long since vanished. Many once said that Yoriichi Tsugikuni was like a god walking among n—but if he truly were divine, how could he have allowed Kibutsuji Muzan to escape? And how could he have ultimately t an ordinary death, aging and passing away helplessly? In the end, he was simply a man—only… far stronger than most."
He set his cup down, the faint amusent fading from his expression.
"Enough of that. Tell about the Hinokami Kagura passed down through your family."
"…Alright."
Tanjiro nodded.
"The Hinokami Kagura is a ritual dance perford by the Kamado family at the start of each new year, offered to the Fire God in prayer for peace and safety. It consists of twelve forms. The first form is…"
As he spoke, he rose to his feet. In his mind, the image of his father surfaced—the way he had once perford the dance, tireless and unwavering, continuing from dawn until dusk without pause.
Following that mory, Tanjiro began to move.
While he demonstrated the Hinokami Kagura, Soma watched in silence, his gaze steady and intent. At the sa ti, he asked Tanjiro to describe how his father had breathed while performing it—how his chest rose and fell, how the rhythm flowed.
After completing one full sequence, Tanjiro instinctively slowed, about to stop—but Soma gestured for him to continue.
So he did.
As Tanjiro moved through the dance again, now aware that it contained the sword forms of the Sun Breathing, he began to reflect more deeply on each motion, trying to grasp its hidden aning.
Soma narrowed his eyes slightly, observing the rhythm of the dance.
A breeze stirred through the courtyard, carrying with it the distant laughter of children at play.
And yet, at that mont, Soma closed his eyes.
Within the darkness of his mind, Tanjiro's movents began to replay—each of the twelve forms unfolding one after another. Gradually, the flowing dance transford, each motion shifting into the posture of a swordsman.
Every step—the cadence of its placent.
Every flick of the wrist—the precision of its arc.
Each movent aligned with the rhythm that breathing demanded.
His breath deepened, lengthening unconsciously.
The air around him seed to gather, drawn inward as he inhaled. Oxygen flooded into his lungs in great volu, building and compressing within him. His blood began to surge faster through his veins, and with it ca a steady rise in strength.
And then—
A heat, brilliant and fierce, like the sun itself.
As that energy coursed through his body, it clashed against sothing deep within him, stirring a faint discomfort—like sunlight piercing through darkness, burning away what did not belong.
Ti passed.
At last, Soma opened his eyes.
A long breath escaped him, heavy and lingering, as though expelling sothing impure.
"So this… is the Sun Breathing, and the sword forms that accompany it?"
There was surprise in his voice—but also unmistakable excitent.
When he had first tried to grasp the Hiten Mitsurugi-ryū, true comprehension had required imnse effort. Yet now, after only hearing Tanjiro's explanation and observing his movents, everything seed to fall into place with startling clarity.
It was as though—
in a single instant—
his mind had beco sharper, faster…
as if he had suddenly grown smarter.
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