What is meant to come will eventually come.
This was Hayashi's deepest thought the moment he saw Upper Moon Three — Akaza.
The demon's skin was pale, his hair and brows dyed a strange peach-pink, and in his eyes the ominous kanji for "Upper Rank" and "Three" glowed with a cold light.
The instant his gaze fell upon him, Rengoku Kyojuro unsheathed his Nichirin blade in a flash of fire, his normally cheerful face taking on a solemn intensity.
"Yoriichi san… this demon is an Upper Rank Three!"
Rengoku remembered well: he had cut down Lower Rank Two Hairo, Lower Rank Six Kamanue, and even Lower Rank Three Wakuraba, during joint operations with Yoriichi san. Those experiences had shown him a bitter truth — even among the Lower Moons, the gap in power was like night and day.
If the strength between Lower Moons could differ so drastically, then the Upper Moons — who had stood unchallenged for centuries — were on another level altogether.
In a hundred years, the Demon Slayer Corps had claimed countless victories over Lower Ranks. Yet, not once had they succeeded in felling an Upper Moon.
And now, standing before them was one of the most infamous: Akaza.
Yet despite the weight of history pressing down on him, Rengoku's spirit did not falter. His expression hardened, but his eyes burned brighter than ever. With deliberate steps, he placed himself in front of Hayashi, his stance radiating unwavering resolve.
Even if there was a vast gulf in power, he would stake his life to carve an opening for Hayashi. That was his duty as a Pillar — and more so, as Rengoku Kyojuro.
Hayashi stared at him, first surprised, then profoundly moved. He knew this man's heart too well. Just like in the original tale — even if death awaited, Rengoku would never let the young sprouts of the Corps be crushed. He would stand and burn until the very end.
But this time… things were different.
His restoration had already reached 55%. At just 42%, he had been able to withstand and even cross blades with Kokushibo, Upper Rank One. At his current state, the one who should tremble was not himself or Rengoku — it was Akaza.
Across from them, Akaza's golden eyes gleamed, locked firmly on Rengoku. His lips curved with something close to delight.
"Among all the humans I've met… your fighting spirit is the strongest." His voice was smooth yet heavy with conviction.
"If you were given a few more years, your strength would surely blossom into a new peak. But that peak… is still only human."
He extended his hand ever so slightly, tone coaxing:
"How about it? Become a demon. Cast aside your fragile body — age, sickness, and death — and fight for eternity at my side."
Hayashi almost rolled his eyes. Classic Akaza. The best salesman in Muzan's ranks — every time he meets a human with talent, the first thing out of his mouth is a recruitment pitch.
Even in the Infinite Castle of the original timeline, hadn't he tried to tempt Giyu Tomioka?
But Rengoku's answer was immediate, firm, and fiery as the sun itself.
"No matter what reason you give… I will never become a demon!"
Akaza's smile thinned, his gaze sharp. Yet rather than anger, it carried something like respect.
"Humans age. Humans die. There is nothing noble in that weakness." His eyes flickered to the earth around them, where the remnants of battle still lingered.
"Judging from the marks on the ground… it seems you've already slain Enmu."
A faint snort. "Tch. A weakling who relied only on tricks. No wonder he fell."
Then Akaza's tone shifted, almost mocking:
"And that fool — instead of retreating, he insisted on pressing forward. A death wish, plain and simple…"
At those words, Hayashi's heart suddenly stirred.
Akaza's few words were enough for Hayashi to piece together the situation.
Enmu had indeed obeyed Muzan Kibutsuji's command, concealing himself to mask Muzan's true movements. Yet, on the way, he encountered Rengoku Kyojuro and attempted to ambush him in this humble bento shop.
As for why Akaza himself appeared—
Hayashi immediately noticed Akaza's eyes lock onto him.
There was doubt in that gaze.
To Akaza's senses, Hayashi seemed utterly ordinary compared to the swordsman beside him, whose aura blazed like an owl spreading its wings. There was almost no fighting spirit radiating from this man.
Why would such a weakling attract that adult's attention?
Muzan Kibutsuji had been specific:
Go to the site of Enmu's demise. Confirm if there is a swordsman with dark red hair, forehead markings, and Hanafuda earrings. Do not engage—just confirm, then leave immediately.
But this "ordinary" swordsman? Why would Muzan speak of him at all? Could Enmu have reported something before his death?
Akaza frowned. He found nothing remarkable. Instead, his thoughts shifted—why not ignore this mediocre man and see if he could recruit the fiery swordsman beside him instead?
He opened his mouth with a mocking tone:
"Hey. The one with the Hanafuda earrings."
"You look ordinary… why would you—?"
And then his words stopped. His body froze mid-motion.
Rengoku instantly raised his guard, gripping his Nichirin Blade tightly, every muscle ready to strike.
But Hayashi knew the truth—this was no hesitation born of fear. This was Muzan Kibutsuji himself overriding Akaza's body, just as he had once seized Kokushibo. Even the Upper One had faltered for a heartbeat when Muzan's will pressed down on him.
And this was Upper Three.
A perfect opening.
Hayashi's eyes sharpened. He drew his blade in one motion—
[Breath of the Sun · Seventh Form · Beneficent Radiance!]
At the same moment, Akaza's mind was pierced by Muzan's furious command:
"Akaza! Withdraw immediately!"
"Have you forgotten your mission? Leave this place now!"
The blood's curse flared violently, clashing against Akaza's own will, trying to force his body into retreat. His eyes bulged, his spine bent forward as though shackled by invisible chains. Every syllable of Muzan's voice landed like a hammer blow, crushing his defiance.
Yet still—Akaza's will screamed within him:
"Why? Why?! He's just an ordinary man!"
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