On the mountain path, two figures walked down one after the other.
Tanjiro's face still carried the excited flush from splitting the boulder, but it was mostly exhaustion. Two consecutive years of intense training had all erupted in that single moment, only to quickly fade, leaving his entire body aching.
"I'm starving…" Tanjiro muttered, rubbing his stomach. "I think I smell food."
Shirakawa said, "Don't look at me; it's your turn to cook today."
Tanjiro pointed toward the small hut. "No, Senior Brother—I mean Master!"
Only then did Shirakawa sniff carefully, and sure enough…
A faint aroma drifted from the direction of their hut.
The rich umami of broth mixed with the charred fragrance of grilled food, along with a complex hint of sauces.
The two exchanged a glance and quickened their pace at the same time.
The moment they pushed open the wooden door, a wave of heat and aroma rushed toward them.
Tanjiro froze in place.
Inside, the hearth burned brightly. A large pot sat over the fire, filled with thick, milky-white soup bubbling steadily. Nearby, on a small charcoal stove, several fish grilled to a golden crisp glistened enticingly.
Ingredients were laid out all around—fresh green wild vegetables, plump mushrooms, neatly sliced radishes, and even two small plates of fresh meat.
Sakonji Urokodaki sat beside the hearth, his tengu mask set aside, revealing a face that looked stern but was actually gentle.
Hearing the door open, he looked up.
"Did you succeed?"
"I did!" Tanjiro straightened immediately and nodded vigorously.
"I—I split it! Master! I split that boulder!"
Sakonji Urokodaki's gaze lingered on his face for a moment before shifting to Shirakawa.
Shirakawa raised his hand with a grin. "I can vouch for him—cut clean in two, smooth as a mirror!"
Sakonji Urokodaki remained silent for a few seconds.
Then he gave a slight nod.
"…Tanjiro, you did well."
Tanjiro stood there awkwardly; in the past two years, he hadn't received much praise.
Shirakawa casually patted his shoulder to help him relax.
"Since you've split the boulder," Sakonji Urokodaki said slowly, "then… both of you are qualified to participate in the Demon Slayer Corps' Final Selection."
Tanjiro's eyes widened instantly, and he held his breath.
Shirakawa simply raised an eyebrow, unsurprised.
"The selection will take place in three days," Sakonji Urokodaki continued. "The location is Fujikasane Mountain. I'll tell you the exact route."
He gestured for them to sit, his tone softening slightly.
"Now, let's eat first."
"Hehe~ hot pot."
Shirakawa had already taken off his shoes and stepped inside, his eyes shining. "And grilled fish! Master, you're finally showing your skills today!"
"Stop talking nonsense and wash your hands," Sakonji Urokodaki said, pointing to the water basin in the corner. "Sit down and eat."
"Yes!" Tanjiro nodded eagerly, his eyes slightly red.
The two quickly washed their hands and sat beside the hearth.
The warmth and aroma wrapped around them, driving away the mountain chill and the fatigue from training.
"I'm digging in!" Tanjiro pressed his hands together, his voice loud enough to shake the room.
Shirakawa had already grabbed a grilled fish and taken a bite. "Delicious!!!"
"Crispy on the outside and tender on the inside—Master, your cooking is amazing!"
"Delicious!" Tanjiro's cheeks puffed out as he ate, his eyes sparkling with happiness. "This grilled fish is so good!"
"Master's cooking is a hidden talent," Shirakawa said while chewing.
"For the first eight months, I kept trying to learn—and managed to burn it five times!"
Sakonji Urokodaki snorted. "That's because you're stupid."
"Yeah, yeah, I'm stupid," Shirakawa replied with a grin, placing a fish into Tanjiro's bowl.
"Junior Brother, eat more—nourish your brain, and try not to drag us down during the selection."
"I won't drag you down!" Tanjiro shot back immediately, though he still obediently ate the fish.
As a result, because it was too hot, he ended up going "ho-ho-ho" while cooling it in his mouth.
Sakonji Urokodaki quietly watched the two devouring their food, then picked up a ladle and poured a spoonful of hot soup into each of their bowls.
"Eat slowly. There's plenty."
The warm soup slid down their throats, fresh and mellow, warming them all the way to their stomachs.
Tanjiro took a big gulp and let out a long sigh. "I feel alive again…"
Steam rose gently from the pot, and together with the rich aroma and warm atmosphere, made the small hut feel especially cozy.
Tanjiro talked about how he felt when he split the boulder, Shirakawa occasionally chimed in with teasing remarks, and Sakonji Urokodaki mostly listened quietly, nodding from time to time.
At that moment, there were no demons, no rare blood, and no heavy destiny.
There was only a master and his two disciples, sitting around a steaming hot pot like an ordinary family.
As the meal came to an end, Sakonji Urokodaki set down his chopsticks and walked toward the cabinet.
A moment later, he turned back holding two items.
They were fox masks.
One had a sun painted on its forehead, while the other wore a smiling expression with squinted eyes.
Tanjiro's gaze was immediately drawn to them.
"These are…" he asked softly.
"Warding masks," Sakonji Urokodaki said, handing the sun-patterned fox mask to Tanjiro. "I've placed a protective spell on them to guard you from calamity."
Tanjiro accepted it carefully with both hands, his crimson eyes filled with emotion. "Thank you, Master!"
Sakonji Urokodaki nodded, then picked up the squinting fox mask and turned toward Shirakawa.
"This one is for you—"
"Master, I won't need one."
Shirakawa suddenly spoke, interrupting him.
Sakonji Urokodaki's hand paused mid-air, clearly surprised.
Tanjiro also looked at Shirakawa in confusion.
Shirakawa smiled, reached into his robe, and slowly took something out.
It was also a fox mask.
But it was different from the two in Sakonji Urokodaki's hands—
On the left cheek, two delicate blue flowers were painted, adding a touch of liveliness and gentleness to the smiling fox face.
This is…!!!
Sakonji Urokodaki's pupils shrank suddenly.
He recognized this mask.
He recognized it all too well.
—It was Makomo's mask.