Extraordinary talent is a blessing.
But sotis… it can also be a burden.
Tokito Muichiro had once heard Lady Amane Ubuyashiki, the one who rescued him, say those very words.
Because when your talent is too overwhelming, no one can keep up with you. You end up losing friends your own age.
Back then, Muichiro was only eleven. Even now, he had just turned twelve.
A child like that shouldn't have had to enter a place as cruel as the Demon Slayer Corps.
But Muichiro was the descendant of the founder of Breathing Techniques—perhaps the only living descendant. The Corps needed to protect him… and also needed his talent and strength, to fight against the demons—and ultimately, against the one and only Demon King.
Kibutsuji Muzan.
That was why Amane Ubuyashiki, wife of the Corps leader, had personally brought Muichiro into the Demon Slayer Corps.
At the ti, he had just survived a demon attack, his entire body covered in wounds—and his past, erased from his mory.
Amane didn't tell him about his history, and Muichiro never asked. He simply kept swinging his blade… again and again…
To release a deep, inexplicable rage that only his body rembered—he kept swinging.
Endlessly refining himself through the sword.
That was all there was to it.
Even when he was injured, Muichiro continued to train himself with a wooden sword.
And ten days ago, when he first picked up a real Nichirin sword—and, without anyone teaching him, instinctively used Mist Breathing—that was when Amane Ubuyashiki had spoken those words about talent.
She had said them softly, almost like she was talking to herself—but Muichiro had heard her clearly.
Normally, Muichiro wouldn't have rembered sothing like that.
He hardly rembered anything he didn't find worth paying attention to. To put it bluntly, he had a poor mory—sowhat forgetful by nature.
But during this Final Selection, Muichiro had rembered two things—sothing rare for him.
One was this duel with the red-haired boy standing before him.
The other… was the boy's na.
Kamado Takeo.
Muichiro felt certain he wouldn't forget that na—because he was the only opponent who had ever defeated him in a match.
Even if it was by exploiting an opening.
Co to think of it, the reason he'd challenged Takeo in the first place was because he had sensed— Um, what was that thought again..?
Ah, yes—That fighting alongside him would make him stronger!
That was what Muichiro thought to himself.
He didn't care about most things in this world. The only thing he truly cared about now—was becoming stronger.
Strong enough to cut down any demon.
That was why, on the third day after receiving his real Nichirin sword, Muichiro had entered the Final Selection.
He wanted to beco a mber of the Demon Slayer Corps as quickly as possible, and the fastest way to grow stronger was through actual battle—with demons.
The Final Selection began quickly. At the ti, Muichiro had swept a glance over the gathered participants—then imdiately looked away.
Not a single one of them had caught his attention. Everyone within his field of view… was equally weak. None of them carried the presence of a true warrior.
Maybe Lady Amane had been right—maybe it had been a waste of ti for him to co to the Final Selection.
But it was a required trial to join the Corps—even he, the descendant of the founder of the Breathing Techniques, wasn't exempt.
And yet, during this Selection, Muichiro t soone who surprised him.
A red-haired boy, Kamado Takeo—a boy roughly the sa age as him.
He had stopped Muichiro in an attempt to find inspiration for creating his own Breathing Style. At the ti, Muichiro hadn't thought much of it—he didn't want to waste ti there, so he struck at the boy.
He hadn't used full force—only about a fifth of his strength.
And yet, the boy had easily blocked the strike.
That was the first ti Muichiro had felt surprise. And because of that, after the boy left, Muichiro had actually chosen to follow him.
He wanted to confirm the boy's true strength—to challenge him. If the boy turned out to be strong, perhaps it would help him grow faster as well.
But unfortunately, the boy's behavior afterward had left Muichiro a little disappointed.
When facing a demon, he wasted ti talking instead of finishing the fight. That kind of hesitation didn't seem like sothing a true warrior would have.
Muichiro felt let down by it—and with that, lost interest.
But what Muichiro hadn't expected… was that the boy would dare challenge him.
No—Muichiro didn't think the boy was weak. He hadn't looked down on him.
Judging by his age, the boy was about the sa—maybe even slightly younger. To possess that kind of strength at his age, he was definitely soone with the potential to beco a pillar of the Demon Slayer Corps in the future.
But compared to Muichiro himself—the boy was still far too weak.
Even though Muichiro had only been wielding a sword for a few days—and had even been recovering from injuries before picking one up—
Perhaps it was the inherited talent from his ancestors, but within just those few days of using a real blade, Muichiro had already surpassed the strength of a fully ranked Demon Slayer.
And more than that—he grew stronger every single day.
He was weaker yesterday than he was today. And tomorrow, he would be stronger than today.
Even if the red-haired boy had been able to match him at that mont, a few days later—after Muichiro had slain countless demons—there was no doubt he had already surpassed the boy by a wide margin.
Fighting soone like him wouldn't help Muichiro improve.
And if it didn't help him improve, then it was nothing more than a waste of ti.
Muichiro had originally intended to decline the duel—but in the end, he was baited by the boy's provocation and agreed to the fight.
Several days later, after the Final Selection ended, Muichiro t the boy as promised. Just as expected, in the opening monts of the match, he completely overwheld his opponent with sheer power.
Within just a dozen exchanges, the boy had already lost to him.
Yes, that was only natural. Nothing surprising about it at all.
Muichiro only felt a slight twinge of regret—wasting ti on sothing that didn't help him grow stronger.
And yet… that regret vanished completely soon after.
Because the boy revealed a physique sowhat akin to a demon's—though his regeneration was inferior to that of a demon, the fact that he was still human made such healing a rare and remarkable advantage.
Soone who should have lost quickly managed to hold out against Muichiro through sheer force of will—and that inhuman recovery ability.
Muichiro had lost his mories. He didn't know what had happened in his past—only that deep within, there lingered a burning anger.
Every action Muichiro took now was driven by that smoldering fury.
And when he saw the boy's ability… sothing in him stirred. A strange, unreasonable, inexplicable anger rose within.
It was odd—irrational. That boy's ability was clearly a natural gift, not sothing he had stolen. Muichiro shouldn't have been angry.
And yet, he was.
It wasn't jealousy, nor envy. Muichiro didn't even think the anger was truly directed at the boy…
…It felt more like it was aid at himself.
Fueled by that anger, Muichiro stopped holding back.
Originally, because the boy was a fellow Demon Slayer swordsman, Muichiro had been restraining himself. But once he realized the boy's healing was far above normal human standards, there was no longer a need for hesitation.
His wooden sword slashed like a real blade, leaving bloody wounds across the boy's body.
And even so—
The boy never admitted defeat.
Why is he still pushing forward?
Muichiro wondered at the ti.
Admitting one's own weakness wasn't cowardice—it was a rare and admirable form of self-awareness. It was precisely because one recognized their weakness that they would strive to beco stronger.
And just being able to fight Muichiro up to this point—that alone was sothing to be proud of. Even if he lost, no one would bla him.
In fact, losing was the natural outco.
And yet the boy kept going. Even covered in wounds, even though his regeneration was slowing from exhaustion, he still refused to back down.
…It was beginning to irritate Muichiro.
Seeing that the boy still wouldn't surrender, Muichiro lost his patience.
This ti, he would truly stop holding back. He unleashed his full speed—deciding that this strike would leave the boy unable to stand again.
But once again, the boy surprised him.
At the most critical mont, the boy actually awakened a Breathing Style of his own!
Like a starving wolf, like a cornered lone wolf, he abandoned all defense and launched a vicious, lightning-fast attack on Muichiro!
It was an attack Muichiro should have been able to react to. By all accounts—He should have been able to stop it.
But the reality was—due to the boy's sudden outburst, Muichiro experienced a brief mont of distraction.
And in that single instant of hesitation, the boy's blade landed a decisive blow—right over Muichiro's heart.
"…You've lost."
The red-haired boy, covered in wounds and breathing heavily, stood before Muichiro and declared his victory—and Muichiro's defeat.
Your body is covered in wounds, and my clothes aren't even torn. How did I lose?
That was Muichiro's first thought.
But then, as he felt the sharp pain in his left chest, he understood.
He had lost.
Even though his opponent was battered and bloodied while he had sustained only a single wound—
That single wound had determined the outco of the fight.
For the first ti since the mont he had taken up a real Nichirin sword, Muichiro Tokito had tasted defeat.
And at the sa ti—
He engraved the na Kamado Takeo deep into his mory!
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