The Crystal's Whisper and The Wind's Embrace

Chapter 65: Fires That Refuse to Die

The days of bone-breaking training were finally slowing.

Whispers passed among the slayers like wind: The Hashira Training was nearing its end.

Not because they had finished. But because something was coming.

They could feel it—in the hush between crow calls, in the stillness that settled over the estate like held breath.

Tanjiro, Zenitsu, and Inosuke were among the last trainees to complete the final tier.

Tanjiro had passed through each Hashira's training—beaten, broken, refined.

His sword now moved with purpose and control. Not raw instinct, but learned intention.

"Your stance has improved," Tsukiyo said during their final session. "Less fire. More clarity."

He smiled brightly. "Thanks to everyone here—especially you."

She gave him a soft nod.

Zenitsu had grown more serious.

His screaming still echoed in training halls—but he no longer ran from fear. He ran through it.

Tsukiyo caught him once, mid-sprint drill, muttering to himself, fists clenched.

"For her... for Nezuko... I can't run anymore..."

She didn't say anything. Just watched him sprint faster.

And Inosuke, wild and brash as ever, had learned something rare. Focus.

Even he had begun listening—slightly. A small miracle.

"They're ready," Tsukiyo said to Sanemi one afternoon as they stood watching the trio from across the courtyard.

"They'll still get themselves killed," he muttered.

She smiled. "You're worried about them."

"I'm annoyed by them," he snapped.

But he didn't look away.

As the trainees finished their final rounds, the Hashira gathered privately at Ubuyashiki's estate.

Kagaya was weaker now. His breaths more laboured, but his voice held steady.

"You've all done well," he said. "But you must not let comfort settle in. Muzan... is moving. I can feel it."

Tsukiyo stood near Sanemi, eyes darkening.

"This calm will not last," Kagaya said. "The moment of confrontation is near."

That night, the estate was quiet—uneasy.

Torches flickered. Footsteps were lighter. The air itself seemed to hesitate.

Tsukiyo stood near the moonlit koi pond, her reflection wavering in the ripples.

She heard him before he spoke.

"...You're always out late," Sanemi murmured, stepping beside her.

She didn't turn. "Couldn't sleep."

"Neither could I."

They stood in silence for a while, shoulders nearly brushing.

Sanemi cleared his throat, eyes fixed on the pond. "You've been looking... tired."

She smiled. "You always start with an insult."

"It's not—" He groaned. "It's concern. Just poorly phrased."

She turned to him slowly.

The silver-blue light bathed his face, softening its edges.

"You're worried about what's coming," she said quietly.

His jaw clenched.

"I don't like leaving things unsaid," he muttered.

Tsukiyo tilted her head. "Then say it."

He hesitated.

"I don't want to lose you."

It was raw. Unpolished. Honest.

Her breath caught. "Sanemi..."

"I'm not good at this," he added quickly. "Feelings. Talking. But—if something happens—"

She reached out, fingers brushing against his hand before gently lacing them together.

"You're not going to lose me," she whispered.

His eyes dropped to their joined hands.

Then, just barely audible: "But if I do... I need you to know. I chose you. I'd choose you again."

Tsukiyo's heart thudded, her voice soft. "Me too."

In that fragile space of almost-touch, of unspoken longing and looming war, they stood quietly—two hearts wrapped in armor, finally baring enough to feel.

Far away, in the darkness of the demon realm—

Muzan's eyes opened.