Hearing this, Hayashi subconsciously raised his head.
A large mansion stood before them, its surroundings drenched in the soft purple glow of wisteria blossoms. The flowers stretched endlessly, creating the illusion of a sea of violet waves.
Tomioka Giyu explained in his usual calm, clipped tone:
"These wisteria have been cultivated so they bloom throughout the year. They are not just for beauty—they repel demons."
Hayashi glanced sideways at him, seizing the chance to ask what had been on his mind since the previous night.
"So… you can actually communicate with people normally?"
Tomioka's eyes narrowed slightly, his expression as earnest as ever.
"So, speaking whatever comes to mind directly—is that what you call normal communication?"
Hayashi choked on his own words. A ridiculous thought crossed his mind—perhaps that night on Mount Kumotori, Tomioka had only wanted to knock politely and say:
"I am Tomioka Giyu from the Demon Slayer Corps. Could someone inside please open the door?"
But someone must have advised him to "think carefully before speaking." After much deliberation, Tomioka had compressed his words into something blunt and strange:
"Don't hide in there. I know you're home."
Since then, after being told he was "often disliked," Tomioka had simply spoken his thoughts plainly. To others, that almost seemed like normal communication.
Standing nearby, Murata blinked in confusion. From his perspective, the two had exchanged one or two short lines, then both fell silent.
As expected… those who can keep up with the Pillars all have eccentric personalities.
Murata cleared his throat, breaking the silence.
"We… should probably knock on the door now."
Before he could do so, the wooden door creaked open on its own.
A small figure appeared—short white hair brushing her shoulders, dressed in a purple kimono.
Hayashi's heart skipped. He recognized her instantly: Ubuyashiki Hinaki, eldest daughter of the Corps' leader, Ubuyashiki Kagaya.
By his calculation, she should be around eight years old now.
Hinaki opened the door wide, her voice calm beyond her years:
"Hello. Nice to meet you."
Her tone was so measured it lacked the warmth of a child. Hayashi was stunned.
Is this really an eight-year-old?
Unperturbed, Hinaki continued,
"Please, follow me."
Murata craned his neck, trying to peek inside—but the moment he caught sight of the courtyard, he flinched back as if burned.
"Th-the other Pillars are here too?! Is this… is this a Pillar meeting?"
Tomioka said nothing and stepped in without hesitation.
Hayashi followed calmly, though his stomach tightened. Murata lingered, then finally clenched his fists and forced himself through the door.
Hinaki raised her voice clearly:
"Pillar—Tomioka Giyu. Gen-class swordsman—Murata. And…"
She faltered, blinking in uncharacteristic childlike confusion.
"…the swordsman who fights out of interest—Yoriichi-san."
Hayashi nearly groaned aloud. When he had first introduced himself to the hidden corps member Momoki Haruko, he'd claimed casually he was "a swordsman out of interest."
Who could have guessed Tomioka would report those words verbatim through the crow… or that the Ubuyashiki family would use them in an official introduction.
Suppressing the urge to bury his face in his hands, Hayashi coughed into his fist and straightened his back.
It doesn't matter. If I don't act embarrassed, the others will be the ones embarrassed.
As he stepped into the courtyard, countless eyes immediately turned to him.
Tomioka remained impassive, accustomed to the weight of such gazes.
Murata, however, froze—his body stiff, his breath shallow.
So this is the aura of the Pillars… even a glance feels suffocating!
Hayashi, oblivious to how intently he was being watched, walked with calm steps and positioned himself beside Tomioka.
A tall, flamboyantly handsome man covered in sparkling jewels looked him over, speaking with surprised curiosity:
"He looks about my age… tall, though a bit thin. I was expecting someone built like the Stone Pillar. Still, the markings on his forehead are quite striking—almost flashy enough."
Hayashi smiled faintly and inclined his head in greeting. The man's attire left no doubt—Uzui Tengen, the Sound Pillar.
Beside him, a petite girl with purple hair and a butterfly-shaped hairpin peeked forward. Her haori shimmered like butterfly wings as she studied him with a teasing smile:
"So this is the swordsman who only fights for fun? …Traveling with Tomioka-san must be difficult."
Hayashi's eyes shifted to her delicate butterfly motif. There was no mistaking her—Kocho Shinobu, the Insect Pillar.
And after realizing that he was traveling alongside Tomioka Giyu, a trace of sympathy appeared beneath the gentle smile of the woman before him.
Obviously, this person was the Insect Hashira, Kocho Shinobu.
However, before Hayashi and Kocho Shinobu could exchange greetings, a violent and furious voice suddenly echoed through the courtyard:
"This guy has never joined the Demon Slayer Corps, nor has he ever been selected. He just swings a sword for fun!"
"To put it bluntly, there's no record of him at all!"
"We don't need weaklings who'll die to a demon one day! Better I drive him away myself!"
The words carried harshness, their owner having white hair, a scarred face twisted with hostility.
There was no mistaking him—this was the Wind Hashira, Sanemi Shinazugawa.
Yet perhaps because he had been with Giyu earlier, Hayashi sensed the man's true feelings beneath the fury: he didn't want others put at risk because of weakness.
As Sanemi strode toward him, a shadow suddenly dropped from a nearby tree.
Bandages wrapped his mouth, a small white snake coiled around his shoulders, and mismatched eyes gleamed with cold light.
It was none other than the Serpent Hashira, Iguro Obanai.
His voice was low, his words hissing like a snake:
"I've read Tomioka Giyu's report. From what he says, this Hayashi Yuichi seems powerful… but I wonder if Tomioka's judgment is mistaken."
While speaking, Iguro advanced slowly. Yet Hayashi realized something strange—the two of them weren't simply facing him. They were, in fact, circling to surround Tomioka Giyu.
Hayashi's eyes widened slightly.
So this is the legendary Hashira meeting. Truly, their reputation for severity is well-earned.
Then came a deep and solemn rebuke:
"Sanemi. Obanai. Do not be rude."
The voice belonged to an imposing figure towering above the rest.
Eyes clouded by blindness, his muscular frame clad in monk's robes, a rosary clutched firmly in his hands. Despite the scar across his forehead, his aura was serene and steadfast.
This was the Stone Hashira, Gyomei Himejima.
"Everything will be judged in the presence of the Master," he said gravely.
Rustle, rustle—
Hayashi turned his head toward the faint sound of stones clicking together.
Behind Himejima, a boy with long black hair sat crouched, focused entirely on arranging pebbles on the ground, seemingly oblivious to the tension.
This absentminded youth could only be the Mist Hashira, Muichiro Tokito.
Hayashi's heart stirred.
I've already seen the Rock, Wind, Water, Insect, Sound, and Serpent Hashira. That means…
His gaze shifted—and then his eyes lit up.
A radiant figure had stepped forward. Golden hair tipped in red caught the sunlight, brows thick and bold above burning eyes filled with life. His presence was like a blazing flame, commanding and uplifting all at once.
"You must be Yuichi san! What an honor it is to meet you!"
"I truly look forward to fighting alongside you in the future!"
Every sentence boomed like a declaration, full of vigor and exclamation marks.
If this wasn't the Flame Hashira, Rengoku Kyojuro, then who else could it be?
Hayashi smiled warmly back at him. Then he noticed a delicate figure peeking shyly from behind Kyojuro's broad shoulders.
Pink hair framed her face, her bright eyes full of admiration.
"Yuichi san, you're unexpectedly handsome!"
Kanroji Mitsuri, the Love Hashira, stood before him—her bold uniform straining against her curvaceous figure. Hayashi instinctively lowered his head, catching the brief stillness in Iguro's breathing beside him.
No wonder… Kanroji's presence is overwhelming even at a glance.
Stop! Don't think about it!
Readers wouldn't want to see me distracted like this in such a tense scene… right?
He forced his thoughts elsewhere. In my past life, I read endless debates about the Hashira timeline—whether Mist, Love, and Flame had already assumed their titles before the story began. But clearly, I now face the version where all of them already stand as Hashira.
Step. Step.
Footsteps echoed as a man emerged at the front of the courtyard. His black hair was streaked with purple scars that spread across his face. Unlike the pale cataracts covering one eye, his other iris still glowed a haunting violet.
A voice rose up from the attendants:
"The Master has arrived!"
And with that announcement, silence fell across the Hashira.