Three months later, Hayama.
The once bustling training ground was now much quieter.
No more wooden sword sparring, no more morning run chants, no more endless streams of complaints.
Muzan was dead. Wind Breathing no longer needed new disciples.
Taka sat alone in the training ground at the mountain top, gazing with his remaining eye at the rolling sea of clouds below the mountain.
His right arm had withered into a thin, shriveled limb. The ulceration of his skin showed no improvement no matter how much medicine was used.
Although he had already told his master that he didn't need medicine anymore, the old man was stubbornly persistent. Even Jigoro, who occasionally came to play Go with Arasaki Tetsushin, would get angry at Taka's attitude:
"What kind of talk is that! When people are sick, they of course need medicine! This old man can't watch you die before me!"
But his body could no longer recover.
To repair this body would mean releasing his Reiatsu, which would cause even more trouble. Taka simply gave up.
There were no more demons. There was no need to fight.
"Taka, you skipped breakfast again."
Rika's voice sounded behind him. She was holding a tray of pickled vegetables and clear porridge, looking at Taka.
Taka smiled. He had been practicing his smile diligently recently and it had become much more natural. "I can't eat."
"You have to eat something, even if you can't! You eat so little for lunch and dinner, and skip breakfast too. When will you ever recover your health?"
Seeing Rika's expression, Taka stopped insisting. He took the porridge bowl with his left hand and reluctantly took a few sips.
It hurt so much.
His esophagus was completely destroyed. He just hadn't told anyone.
"....Has Shinobu eaten?" He frowned, returning the bowl to Rika, his eyes looking towards the dojo.
Rika's expression dimmed. She shook her head.
"Shinobu-sama... still hasn't woken up."
"....Alright. Thank you." Taka fell silent again.
Shinobu's body was also nearing its end.
Neither the Ubuyashiki Family nor famous doctors from society knew what to do about Shinobu's condition.
All the doctors stated frankly that it was already a miracle this lady had survived this long.
For more than half of each day, Shinobu needed medication to fall asleep. It weighed heavily on Taka's heart.
"Caw—! Caw—!"
Just as Taka was preparing to go with Rika to decoct medicine for Shinobu, he heard the familiar cry of his Kasugai Crow.
His crow, named Kuroha, gracefully landed before him.
Taka hadn't seen him in a long time since the Infinity Castle battle, and couldn't help but be somewhat surprised.
Kuroha bowed respectfully, behaving not at all like a Kasugai Crow: "Storm Hashira-sama.... Oyakata-sama sends his regards and invites you to attend the Hashira Meeting."
"Hashira Meeting?" Taka didn't understand. "Muzan is dead. What is there to discuss?"
"It concerns... the disbandment of the Demon Slayer Corps...."
A few days later.
A spring breeze blew past the wisteria branches, knocking down a petal that landed on Taka's shoulder.
He and Shinobu, supported by two Kakushi members, hobbled into the new Ubuyashiki Estate garden.
"So fragrant.... Are they blooming...."
Shinobu sniffed the scent in the air, murmuring softly.
Taka stopped, placed the petal from his shoulder into her palm, and said loudly: "Yes, the wisteria are blooming!"
"Oh, it's wisteria... I couldn't even recognize the smell...." She smiled a bit ruefully, her gaze unfocused, slowly following Taka's steps into the courtyard.
At this moment, most of the figures in the courtyard had already arrived, though two were still missing.
The Stone Hashira, Himejima Gyomei, had passed away not long after the Infinity Castle battle.
Though his injuries weren't life-threatening, awakening the Demon Slayer Mark had exhausted his last vitality.
After conveying his final wishes, he returned to his small temple and passed away peacefully with a smile under the ancient Buddha and lamp.
According to the Kakushi members who cared for him, before his death, Gyomei seemed to be happily talking to some unseen people.
For this man who had fought in darkness for half his life, this was perhaps the best ending.
The other was the Sound Hashira, Uzui Tengen.
He had gorgeously returned to his ninja village and gorgeously spent the night with his three wives, completely ignoring the Demon Slayer Corps' Kasugai Crow.
But Taka guessed that, given his personality, he probably just didn't like this oppressive atmosphere.
The remaining Hashira, including the trio of Tanjiro, Zenitsu, and Inosuke, were sitting cross-legged in the courtyard, exchanging recent news.
When they saw Taka and Shinobu enter, their expressions finally became serious.
Ultimately, it was entirely thanks to Taka that they had been able to defeat Muzan.
"....How have you been lately?"
Everyone seemed a bit unsure how to begin. It was Giyu, the least perceptive of atmosphere, who first greeted them.
"Not bad. Just lost my appetite."
"Ta-Taka-san! Good day!" Tanjiro greeted nervously.
"Yo!"
Sanemi raised an eyebrow at him. Beside him sat a boy who looked very much like him, with a strange mohawk hairstyle.
"Haha! Toritaro! Look at your miserable state! You definitely can't beat me now! Haha!"
"Idiot! Show some respect to Taka-san!!!"
Inosuke and Zenitsu were still as noisy as ever, but Taka didn't mind.
With the Kakushi members' help, he and Shinobu sat down on a soft cushion.
Mitsuri gently held Shinobu's hand: "Shinobu, have you been feeling better lately?"
"Ah... Mitsuri? I've taken my medicine."
Mitsuri frowned and looked at Taka, only receiving a shake of his head in response.
The side effects from the massive amount of wisteria poison and the corrosion of the Blood Demon Art had severely damaged Shinobu's five senses. She could no longer hear people clearly.
The Love Hashira's nose twitched and her eyes reddened. Obanai beside her reacted quickly, hastily offering a handkerchief.
"When will you and Iguro-san get married?"
Though Shinobu couldn't see, this sudden question broke the somewhat melancholy atmosphere. Both of them blushed and sat back down.
She turned her head and playfully stuck out her tongue in Taka's direction.
"Umu! It's time to get married! After all, none of us will live past twenty-five anyway! Haha!"
"Rengoku-san, that kind of talk is really...."
Tanjiro looked at Kyojuro, always so cheerful and dismissive of life and death, and felt a wave of helplessness.
"It'll get better."
Muichiro's expression was now much more gentle than before. A sincere smile lingered at the corners of his mouth.
His memory problems had recovered. He was no longer in that cold, bewildered state.
"I hope so. Where is Oyakata-sama?"
Taka looked around. Although all the Hashira had gathered, he didn't see the boy Kiriya.
He really was just like his father, always the last to appear.
Just as he spoke, Kiriya's figure lightly appeared.
He walked out from the inner room with his two sisters, smiling: "Everyone, sorry to keep you waiting."
Everyone's gaze focused on that small figure.
This eight-year-old child, dressed in the most solemn family head attire, appeared before them.
"Good day, everyone."
He looked around. At every meeting of eyes, he nodded slightly in greeting.
When his gaze fell on Taka's withered, crippled arm, his breathing noticeably paused. His eyes quickly reddened.
But Kiriya soon held back, recovering the solemnity befitting a family head.
"To see everyone gathered here once again today brings me great comfort...." He deliberately lowered his tone, displaying a composure beyond his years:
"However, today marks the final Hashira Meeting."
"As the ninety-eighth head of the Ubuyashiki Family, I hereby declare—"
"The Demon Slayer Corps is, as of today, officially disbanded!"
Saying this, he actually knelt with his two sisters, pressing their hands to their foreheads, and deeply bowed to everyone present.
"The millennium-long sin of the Ubuyashiki Family, the demons that have plagued the human world for a millennium, have finally been eradicated through everyone's desperate struggle...."
"I, Ubuyashiki Kiriya, on behalf of the successive ancestors of the Ubuyashiki Family, on behalf of all the innocent people harmed by demons over this millennium..... expresses our most sincere gratitude to you all!"
"Thank you for still choosing to wield your swords in the darkest of times."
"Thank you for being willing to entrust your lives to the Ubuyashiki Family."
"Truly... thank you very much!"
His forehead struck the wooden floor heavily, emitting a dull sound.
At that moment, he was not the exalted Oyakata-sama, but more like a young child atoning for his family's debts.
"Oyakata-sama! Please rise!" Tanjiro was the first unable to contain himself, standing up with moist eyes: "This was our own choice...."
The Hashira, who had always respected Kagaya, naturally could not bear to see his young son perform such a great bow. They quickly moved to help him up.
"No." Kiriya did not raise his head. His voice was choked with sobs: "Please let me maintain this posture and finish what I have to say...."
"Taka-dono."
Called by name, Taka merely sat there calmly.
His slightly pale face, under the sunlight, always seemed to have a transparent quality, as if he might scatter with the wind at any moment.
"If you had not stepped forward at the most critical moment and slain Kibutsuji Muzan, who knows how many more children would have died because of Muzan's tyranny...."
"You are the savior of this world.... Taka-dono, thank you!"
These words were true, and all the Hashira-level swordsmen acknowledged them.
Though they had fainted and not witnessed the Demon King's death,
that figure standing suspended in mid-air.... none of them dared to dwell on just what kind of existence Taka was.
Led by Kiriya, they also bowed deeply to Taka, expressing their gratitude.
Taka lowered his eyelids slightly.
"....Don't thank me. I just did what I had to do." Taka spoke hoarsely. He was very unaccustomed to this feeling of being worshipped.
"If you want to thank someone, thank those brave souls who, though mere mortals, cast aside thoughts of life and death."
"Like your father, Kagaya, your mother, Amane, and your sisters, and the countless ordinary Demon Slayer Corps' members."
"It was their courage that created the opportunity for the final battle with Muzan, exposing his cowardice to the sunlight, ultimately leading to his demise."
Hearing the names of his parents, Kiriya, who had been striving to maintain his family head dignity, shed silent tears.
This child, only eight years old, had ultimately reverted to being an ordinary orphan at the sound of those two words.
The spring breeze blew past the wisteria branches, fragrance filling the garden.