Within the Wisteria Grove

Fujikasane

The golden, mid-day sunlight trickled through the low-hanging wisteria tree branches as a blue-eyed man walked along the forest floor. The path that he walked on had aged a bit since his last visit here. Small shoots of grass and the occasional presence of a weed had managed to slip through the well-worn stone path. The man only sighed at this, knowing that it was purely his responsibility to tend to this path, but he didn't have to motivation for that at the moment.

The path's end was in sight now, and at the end of the path stood one of many wisteria trees. This one was different, however. It was much older than the ones that surrounded the man, but its meaning went beyond that. This tree was where he had laid his friend to rest. Slowly, the man approached the two, child-sized graves and dropped to his knees. He sat there for a moment with his eyes steadily trained on the larger grave, and then he removed his katana's sheath from his side to lay it down.

He visited this spot on Mount Fujikasane whenever he wasn't occupied with his missions, but he always made time to ensure that this place was visited yearly, and usually around the time of that fateful day he witnessed his friends die. They were only kids forced to undergo a grueling assignment called the Final Selection to officially enter the Demon Slayer Corps but was their inexperience to blame? The demon was stronger than any of the other demons that were supposed to be in the Final Selection. In other words...

Their deaths were never supposed to happen.

These kinds of thoughts had always been strongest during this time of year when the man visits. His eyes narrowed slightly as his throat began to tighten. He still remembers the sound of his friend's laughter. His friend was never the kind to laugh often, but when he did, it could make anyone's day just a little bit brighter. The man closed his eyes as the memory came flooding his mind and senses.

"Giyuu! Hurry up, you slowpoke! Master would never let you in Final Selection in this shape!" His friend shouted from atop a hill surrounded by tall trees. This was back on Mount Sagiri, so the forest was a lot less bright than Fujikasane but sunlight still managed to leak through the heavy leaves above.

The man, back then was a small, black-haired kid, who stared up at his friend with wide blue eyes. His cheeks were puffed up from his friend calling him out like that. Beside him, a young girl giggled as she ran up the hill to join the boy.

"I'm not a slowpoke, Sabito! And don't laugh at me, Makomo, it's not funny! It's mean!" Giyuu huffed at the two as he proceeded to follow them to the top where the boy, Sabito, and the girl, Makomo, laughed almost in unison. "I'll be the strongest one at Final Selection, just you watch!"

Sabito's soft, lavender eyes glistened with mischief as he gazed at the black-haired boy. "Let's see how strong you really are then! Climb up that tree—" The boy pointed up at a large pine that seemed to tower over the group. Giyuu stared at it, determination in those blue eyes of his.

"Fine! I'll prove it to you both!" The young boy dashed toward the tree, using what he's learned from the past three months of his training. He seemed to move up the tree effortlessly, keeping his breathing calm and steady as he leaped from branch to branch. Soon enough, the boy was halfway up and he looked down at Sabito and Makomo with a triumphant smile. "See?? I'm strong enough!"

The lavender-eyed boy who stood on the ground grinned in response, but the smile was one of challenge. In the blink of an eye, Sabito rushed to climb up the tree and in a matter of seconds, he sat on a branch next to Giyuu. The surprised look on the poor boy's face made Sabito snicker. "Guess we're both strong, huh?" He beamed.

"You were..." Giyuu spoke, now in the present. His eyes had reopened to stare down at the grave in front of him. The Water Hashira wasn't the type to let his emotions show, but at this moment, his facial expression gave way to a pang of deep sadness. He had a frown on his lips and his brows had knit together while his vision slowly became blurry. Even years later, the death of his friend still flashed so vividly in his mind.