- Y/n Tsugikuni -

Chapter 11 - Improve to Prove -

An explosion echoed through the District, shaking lanterns and rooftops. Daki’s eyes twitched, distracted for a brief moment.

"You maggots... what is going on out there!?" she snapped, her tone no longer playful. "That came from the Ogimoto area... Hinatsuru!"

Her attention returned to Tanjiro—though this time, not his face. Her eyes gleamed with amusement.

"Oh? Look at your blade," she purred. "Already chipped? And we've barely exchanged a few blows. Must’ve been forged by a back-alley apprentice with scrap metal!"

Tanjiro glanced down. The edge was rough, dented. But he didn’t flinch.

‘Chipped swords come from poor handling. It’s not the smith. It’s me.’

‘I never had the body for Water Breathing. That’s the truth.’

‘I’ll never be like Tomioka-san… or Tsugi-san.’

His eyes sharpened.

‘But if I want to protect anyone—if I want to hit harder—I’ll use the Dance of the Fire God… The way Tsugi taught me.’

He dropped into his stance, steadying his breathing like Y/n drilled into him during endless midnight training. His chest rose and fell like the rhythm of war drums.

“Oh? What’s with the gourd?” Daki sneered, eyeing the one slung across his back. “Did you forget your little flame show earlier? You were just splashing around like a koi fish.”

But Tanjiro was already gone.

> “Fire yourself up,” he whispered to himself.

Hinokami Kagura.

Daki turned, only to see streaks of fire slicing toward her. She sent her sashes flying, but Tanjiro’s blade met them with burning force—slashing four on the left, two on the right with Raging Sun. Sashes scattered and crumbled mid-air.

Her eyes narrowed.
“He’s switched styles… He’s sharper now.”

Tanjiro moved like he was dancing on coals, breath fiery and volatile. He charged again, condensing all unnecessary movement. Daki reared her sash—

'Shhhk."

The sound of his breathing—harsh, sharp, unnatural—made her skin crawl.
“What is that sound…?”

Flame Dance. He lunged—two swift strikes, one after another. Daki dodged the first and leapt backward, but he wasn’t done. He vanished mid-air.

“Dance of the Fire God!”

Fake Rainbow. He blurred behind her mid-air, catching her off guard.

She turned, but he was already there—swinging.
But before the strike could land, she cut his momentum with a sash across the shoulder.

He hit the ground hard, skidding back and groaning. Blood ran down his arm. He coughed.

‘Why am I this tired already…?’

‘Is it fear?’

She charged again—spinning sash like a drill. But in that split second, Tanjiro remembered something:

“Don’t think. Just trust your body.”

“Don’t blame your limits. Trust them.”

He vaulted into the air using his own blade to redirect her attack. Sashes missed. Tanjiro flipped, soaring into the night sky.

“Even if I die—I have to keep trusting myself.”

“If I stay afraid… I can’t save anyone.”