"You should commit seppuku!"
"It's all your fault that demon escaped!"
"You're a sinner, the root of all evil—you don't deserve to live in this world!"
"How could the Demon Slayer Corps have scum like you?"
Ren never imagined that the nightmare haunting him for years would play out in reality.
They pointed at him, spewing venomous words. This time, their faces weren't blurred—they were the familiar faces he once trusted.
At the Master's estate, he saw the Hashira surrounding Yoriichi Tsugikuni, hurling vile insults with reckless abandon.
Yoriichi stood with his head bowed, silent.
Ren wanted to rush forward to defend his master, but the crowd turned on him, as if spotting a new target.
"You're the one who let Muzan Kibutsuji escape!"
The Sound Hashira grabbed Ren's collar, eyes blazing. "How dare you show your face? You and your master are the Corps' disgrace! If not for you, Muzan would be dead! The Master would still be alive! You deserve to die!"
Yoriichi, who had endured the accusations in silence, moved the moment the Sound Hashira touched Ren. In an instant, he seized the Hashira's wrist.
"What are you doing?"
The Sound Hashira's forehead pulsed with veins. The other Hashira drew their Nichirin Blades, surrounding Yoriichi and Ren with wary, hostile eyes.
Ren felt a wave of alienation. Was this the world he knew?
Why did it feel like he and his master had become enemies of the world?
What heinous crime had they committed?
Why were they branded as sinners?
"It was Michikatsu Tsugikuni who killed the Master! What does that have to do with my master?" Ren glared at the Sound Hashira.
The Sound Hashira sneered. "Michikatsu is his brother. Yoriichi brought him into the Corps. You two were always closest to him. You tell me if there's a connection."
"And it was you who let Muzan Kibutsuji escape, wasn't it? Now that I think about it, you were probably in on it together! Why did Michikatsu turn demon and kill the Master at this exact moment? Why didn't you kill Muzan when you had the chance? Why so many coincidences?"
Ren's heart burned with rage, but he had no outlet.
He looked at the once-familiar faces around him, finding it almost laughable.
These people, using the Breathing Styles his master created, now dared to judge them.
He'd given everything to kill Muzan Kibutsuji, even ruining his body, only to be branded a sinner.
"You're not worthy to judge us."
Ren shoved the Sound Hashira back, glaring at the crowd. "None of you are."
"Kid, what did you say!?"
Ren stepped forward, locking eyes with the Sound Hashira. "If only you had faced Muzan Kibutsuji first. With an idiot like you as bait, I might've killed him."
"Say that again, you brat!"
The Sound Hashira's hand gripped his Nichirin Blade.
"Feeling tough now?" Ren said. "Why didn't you kill Michikatsu Tsugikuni when he attacked the Corps, huh?
"Sound Hashira? What a joke. The Breathing Style you use was created by my master. Don't you feel ashamed using that title?"
"And you all!" Ren turned to the others, his eyes ice-cold. "Before you demand that my master and I commit seppuku, find a blade and end yourselves first. Without the Breathing Styles, you'd all be dead by demons' hands. You wouldn't even have the chance to stand here accusing us!"
…
"Brother, are we leaving?"
"Yeah, we're leaving."
"Where are we going?"
"I don't know. Anywhere but here."
At the entrance to the Demon Slayer Corps' headquarters, Ren looked back at the place he'd called home for years. "We'll never return."
Ren left. After what happened, he couldn't stay in the Corps.
His words to the Hashira had silenced them. Though the Sound Hashira and a few others remained resentful, they didn't dare act against him or Yoriichi.
In the end, they chose to leave the Demon Slayer Corps.
Yoriichi approached from another direction. On his ever-calm face, Ren sensed a trace of sorrow.
"I'm sorry. I've dragged you into this."
Yoriichi spoke like a child who'd erred, his eyes full of guilt.
"My brother became a demon, and I failed to seize the only chance to kill Muzan. If I'd been faster…"
"Master, if anyone's to blame, it's me. I was too weak…" Ren's eyes burned with frustration.
"No, you did more than enough."
Yoriichi knew Ren had truly done well.
Had he been there, the outcome might've been the same.
The only real chance to kill Muzan lay in those final strikes.
But he hadn't seized it. Muzan had escaped.
Yoriichi knew they might never get another chance.
"Brother, Lord Yoriichi!" Chitoshi blinked up at them. "Don't dwell on sad things. Brother, didn't you always say you wanted to see the world? Now's our chance!"
Ren took a deep breath. "You're right, Chitoshi."
He turned to Yoriichi. "Master, where do we go next?"
Where?
Yoriichi looked up at the blazing sun, his expression dazed.
"This is where Uta and I used to live."
They walked through a deep mountain forest, Yoriichi supporting the injured Ren, his eyes lost in memory.
Ren smiled faintly. "Mistress Uta must have been as gentle as you, Master."
"Yes."
Recalling the years spent here with Uta, a rare smile crossed Yoriichi's face.
"We lived here for ten years. If not for demons, I might've stayed with her forever."
At this, both Chitoshi and Ren fell silent.
Demons—how many families, how many lives, had they destroyed?
"We're here."
Soon, a house appeared before them.
The owner, hearing their approach, stepped out. Initially wary, his face lit up upon seeing Yoriichi. "Benefactor!"