Demon Slayer: Guardian of the Forest

"Who are you?"

Snap! Crimson eyes shot open, meeting a stifling darkness. Instinctively, Shinichi began to struggle.

Tear! With a single swipe of sharp claws, the black covering tore apart. Under the astonished gaze of Ryukawa Chinna, a demon emerged from beneath the tarp.

The moment Shinichi regained his sight, his predatory gaze locked onto the room's occupants: the elderly swordsman he faintly recognized—an ally in the battle against a Twelve Kizuki; a woman in a bamboo-patterned kimono trembling slightly; and lastly… a wagging tail that froze his attention. Enji!

The dangerous gleam in Shinichi's red eyes softened immediately as relief washed over him. Good… Enji's unharmed.

Unlike Chinna's visible fear, the old man's expression was calm as he observed Shinichi carefully, seemingly lost in thought.

Oblivious to the tension, Shinichi crouched, stroking Enji's soft fur and murmuring reassurances to the little Shiba Inu. The playful dog barked cheerfully, oblivious to the intensity in the room.

Meanwhile, Chinna's legs trembled as she tried to suppress her fear. She had heard tales of demons from the master of the household, but this was her first time seeing one in the flesh. Shinichi's claws and fangs exuded a palpable aura of danger that made her blood run cold.

Still, Shinichi paid no mind to her unease. After confirming that Enji was safe, he relaxed and stood up.

He glanced at the two humans. "Thanks for taking care of Enji," he said curtly. Then, picking up his loyal companion, he turned toward the door without another word.

Chinna was taken aback by Shinichi's indifference. She hesitated and looked to the elderly swordsman for guidance, but he simply watched the demon with a thoughtful expression.

When Shinichi reached for the door handle, the old man finally spoke. "Young man, wait. It's high noon outside. The sunlight is rather… intense. This house doesn't have much shade."

Silence filled the room.

Shinichi froze mid-motion, his fingers loosening their grip on the handle. Slowly, he turned back, crimson eyes glinting with a dangerous light.

"What are you implying, old man?" he asked, baring his fangs slightly.

The elder's calm expression didn't waver. "I'm merely stating the facts. Unless you fancy a sunbath, you may want to reconsider stepping outside right now."

For a moment, Shinichi stared at him, his expression darkening. "Are you threatening me?" he said, his voice low. "Old man, I appreciate what you did for Enji, but let's not forget—I helped your people take down a Lower Moon demon. We're even.

And don't think for a second that your kindness gives you the right to boss me around. I don't want trouble, but I won't tolerate being threatened!"

The tension in the room thickened. Then, the old man shook his head, smiling faintly. "It's not a threat, young man. In fact, I have a request for you. And for the record, I'm not a member of the Demon Slayer Corps. I'm just an old deserter unworthy of the title."

"What?" Shinichi blinked, caught off guard. A deserter?

Ignoring Shinichi's surprise, the elder continued in a solemn tone. "For me, the Corps is nothing but a haunting memory—a nightmare. My cowardice cost the lives of many comrades. I am unworthy of this blade… and I defiled the honor of the Sun Breathing style."

He paused, then locked eyes with Shinichi. "I want you to inherit my techniques. Become a swordsman. Join the Demon Slayer Corps. Let this blade reclaim its purpose."

As he spoke, he turned and grasped the emerald-hilted Nichirin blade that rested behind him.

Shinichi's expression twisted into one of incredulity. "What? Inherit your techniques? Me?" He pointed at himself. "You've gotta be kidding."

The elder remained resolute, but Shinichi couldn't hold back his laughter. "Old man, do you even realize what you're saying? I'm a demon! A demon! You want me, a demon, to become a Demon Slayer? What's next—asking a fox to guard a chicken coop?"

Unperturbed, the elder turned to Chinna. "Chinna, would you kindly ask the kitchen to prepare some tea and sweets? Make sure they include that dessert… what's it called? Dorayaki."

Chinna nodded, bowing slightly. "Yes, Master Gokadai." She moved swiftly to the door, her movements measured despite the tension.

The moment the door opened, sunlight streamed into the room, illuminating Shinichi's face. His crimson pupils contracted instinctively, and he suppressed a grimace of discomfort.

"Hmph." He crossed his arms and sat back down, deciding to bide his time until the sun set.

"I'll wait," Shinichi said coldly. "But don't think I'm buying into your nonsense."

The elder smiled as he lowered himself onto the tatami mat. "Good. Now that we have time, let's talk properly. So, what do you say about inheriting my techniques?"

"I already said no!" Shinichi snapped. "Seriously, old man, you're delusional if you think I'd ever join the Demon Slayer Corps!"

Gokadai's serene expression didn't falter. Instead, he leaned forward slightly. "Then perhaps you've already noticed… the discomfort building in your body?"

Shinichi's eyes widened. "What?"

Before he could finish, a sudden wave of unease swept through him. He gasped, his muscles tensing as his crimson eyes narrowed in alarm.

"You… What did you do to me?!"