In this story, Yoriichi's swordsman skills are reincarnated into Tanjiro since birth. He has the same birthmark as him, and the rising sun earrings. Since he had lots of stamina ever since a small child, he started doing the Hinokami Kagura dance in...
In the quiet solitude of Tanjiro's estate, the relentless sound of a wooden sword slicing through the air echoed through the night. The swings were precise yet forceful, each one carrying the weight of his determination and desperation. He was supposed to be resting—his students had long since gone to sleep, and his daily training session should have ended hours ago. Yet here he was, alone in the garden, pushing his body far beyond its limits.
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Sweat dripped down his face, mingling with the dirt beneath his feet as he continued to swing. His breath came in ragged gasps, each inhalation feeling like a knife cutting through his lungs. His muscles screamed for mercy, cramping so tightly that it felt like they might tear apart. But still, he pressed on, moving through the twelve forms of Sun Breathing with a precision that came only from endless repetition. It felt like he had done this a million times before, and yet the practice felt as urgent and necessary as if it were his first time. He couldn't stop—not yet.
His movements had slowed, and his once-fluid form was now reduced to a sluggish struggle. Every swing felt like it could be his last, his arms trembling under the weight of exhaustion. He was beyond tired—he was broken, both in body and spirit. But the voice in his mind wouldn't let him rest. It was cruel, unyielding, and merciless.
"Another half an hour," the voice insisted, cold and relentless. "Then you're done."
Tanjiro's chest tightened with frustration and despair. How could he possibly go on? He was on the brink of collapse, his body screaming for relief.
You said that two hours ago! he silently protested, the words heavy with bitterness and fatigue.
But the voice was unrelenting, mocking him. "Shut up and do as I say. Don't you want to defeat Upper Moon 2 and Muzan? Do you think they'll give you a break when you're exhausted? You're fucking pathetic."
Tanjiro's heart pounded in his chest, each beat a painful reminder of his limits. He was gasping for air like a drowning man, his lungs burning with each breath. He was done—there was nothing left in him to give. His legs gave out beneath him, and he collapsed to the ground, his knees sinking into the dirt. His palms spread out wide to catch his fall, but they only met the cold, unyielding earth.
His breath was shallow and rapid, his body trembling uncontrollably. His heart felt like it might explode, its frantic rhythm hammering in his ears. He had been training for so long that his hearing had begun to fail hours ago, leaving only a high-pitched ringing in its place, accompanied by the relentless pounding of his heartbeat.
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