Two figures made their way down the mountain trail, one ahead of the other.
Tanjiro's face still carried the remnants of emotion. That incandescent euphoria of having achieved the impossible. But beneath that, beneath everything, what dominated was exhaustion.
Two years of brutal training had converged into a single instant of absolute perfection, and now that the instant had passed, his body was collecting the bill.
Everything hurt.
"I'm starving..." he murmured, bringing his hand to his stomach. He wrinkled his nose. "Wait... I think I smell food."
"Don't look at me. Today it's your turn to cook."
"No! I mean from the master." Tanjiro pointed toward the cabin. "It's coming from over there!"
Marcus stopped. He sniffed the air carefully, and sure enough...
From the direction of the cabin came an aroma that had nothing to do with their usual dinners.
The deep richness of a broth, mixed with the smoky hint of something roasting over a low flame, and a complexity of sauces he hadn't smelled in a long time.
They looked at each other, and without a word, both picked up the pace.
The door slid open and the warmth hit them all at once, loaded with aromas that made their stomachs growl in unison.
Tanjiro stood slack-jawed in the doorway.
The cabin was transformed.
The stove burned and on top of it, a large pot let out bubbles of a whitish broth that filled the room with steam. Beside it, on a small brazier, several grilled fish rested in a row, golden, glistening with just the right amount of fat. And all around, spread across every available surface, were ingredients: wild greens of a deep vivid color, juicy mushrooms sliced into thin sheets, tofu, sliced daikon, and even two small plates with thin slices of meat.
Urokodaki sat by the stove, without his mask. His bare face held that expression of severity that by now both of them knew was more habit than feeling.
Hearing them, he raised his head.
"Did you do it?"
"I-I did it! Master, I split it! I split that boulder!"
Urokodaki's gaze rested on Tanjiro for a moment.
Then he looked at Marcus.
Marcus raised his hand with a smile. "I can vouch for that."
Urokodaki was silent for a few seconds.
Then he nodded. "...You did very well, Tanjiro."
!
Tanjiro froze, not knowing what to do.
In two years, praise had been so scarce that receiving some now left him more disarmed than any blow.
Marcus gave him a few pats on the shoulder, without saying a word.
Urokodaki waited for the moment to settle. Then he spoke again. "Now that you've split the boulder... you are both eligible to participate in the Final Selection of the Demon Slayer Corps."
Tanjiro's eyes went wide, and Marcus just raised an eyebrow.
"The selection will be in three days," Urokodaki continued. "The location is Mount Fujikasane. I'll show you the exact route."
He paused and looked at both of them.
"Now, eat first."
"Finally..."
Marcus had already kicked off his shoes and stepped inside, eyes locked on the food like a wolf that hadn't eaten in three days.
"And fish! Master, today you actually brought out the big guns."
"Less talking, more hand-washing." Urokodaki pointed to the basin in the corner. "Sit down and eat."
"Yeah!" Tanjiro nodded with an energy that didn't match his sorry state. His eyes were a bit red, but he was smiling.
They washed their hands at a speed that would have alarmed any hygienist and dropped down beside the stove.
The heat warmed their shoulders like a blanket, and the aroma did the rest. The mountain cold and the exhaustion of two years dissolved with every breath.
"Itadakimasu!"
Tanjiro's voice boomed through the cabin, but Marcus, who hadn't bothered to wait, already had a fish in his hand and was tearing off the first bite.
"This is incredible..." He said it with his mouth full and without the slightest trace of shame. "Master, why don't you cook like this every day? Have you been punishing us with our own cooking on purpose?"
"It's so good!" Tanjiro was eating with his cheeks puffed out like a hamster and his eyes shining with pure happiness. "This fish...! The crispy skin, the juicy meat... Master, this is on a whole other level!"
"I spent the first eight months trying to learn to cook like this," Marcus commented, pointing at Urokodaki with his half-eaten fish. "Result: I managed to burn dinner five times in a row."
"That's because you're an idiot." Urokodaki didn't look up from his bowl.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say."
Marcus, not remotely offended, passed a piece of tofu to Tanjiro.
"Here, little bro-in-law. Eat more, see if you can nourish that brain of yours. I don't want you embarrassing me at the Selection."
"I'm not going to embarrass you!" Tanjiro protested instantly, but he grabbed the tofu anyway and popped it in his mouth without thinking.
Mistake.
It was scalding hot.
"Fff...! Fff...! Fff...!"
He rolled it around inside his mouth like it was a hot coal, eyes watering and cheeks bulging, unable to spit it out because of pride and unable to swallow it because of temperature.
Marcus watched him with a raised eyebrow, calmly chewing his fish. "See? That's what I'm talking about."
Urokodaki watched them without adding anything. When the bowls started to empty, he calmly picked up the ladle and poured a scoop of broth into each of theirs.
"Eat slowly. There's plenty."
The broth went down warm through their throats. Rich, deep, with that flavor that only things cooked with time and love ever have. It warmed their chests, their stomachs, and something else that had no name.
"I've come back to life..." Tanjiro closed his eyes and let out a sigh that came from the deepest part of his soul.
The smell of food mixed with the warmth of the room and turned that old, small cabin into the coziest place in the world.
Tanjiro started recounting how he felt at the exact moment he split the boulder. He talked fast, tripping over his words. Marcus chimed in every now and then to tease him or add a comment that made Tanjiro turn red and protest.
And Urokodaki, most of the time, just listened in silence. With his hands around his warm bowl and his gaze resting on those two boys who had arrived at his mountain with nothing and were now sitting there in front of him, filling his cabin with noise and life.
In that moment, there were no demons. No strange blood, no indecent breathing techniques, no destiny heavy with weight.
Just three people around a hot pot.
When dinner began winding down and the bowls sat empty, Urokodaki stood without a word and walked to the cabinet in the back.
He stood there for a moment, his back to them, and when he turned around, he held two objects in his hands.
Two fox masks.
One had a sun in the upper right corner, with warm strokes. The other bore smiling eyes, half-closed, like those of someone keeping a secret.
Tanjiro's gaze went to them instantly.
"Are these...?"
"Protective masks." Urokodaki approached and held out the one with the sun to Tanjiro. "I carved a spell into them. To protect you from harm."
Tanjiro received it with both hands, as if he were being handed something fragile and precious. He held it in front of him, gazing at it with glassy eyes.
"Th-Thank you, Master..."
Urokodaki nodded briefly and turned toward Marcus, extending it toward him.
"This one is for—"
"Master, I don't need one."
Urokodaki's hand stopped, and he blinked in bewilderment. Beside him, Tanjiro also turned his head, not understanding.
Marcus looked at them both. And smiled.
Calmly, he reached inside his clothing and pulled something out.
It was also a fox mask.
But it was different from the ones Urokodaki was holding. This one had something on the left cheek: two small blue flowers etched with a delicate stroke.
Marcus's smile held, but his eyes said something different.
"..."
Urokodaki didn't move.
His gaze fell on the mask and stayed there, fixed.
He knew that mask...
It was Makomo's mask.
________
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