"No… no, nothing. No breathing, no heartbeat." Mitsuri's voice broke as she sobbed, her hands trembling violently. She was completely at a loss, her mind blank with fear.
"Perform artificial respiration and cardiac compression immediately," Akino ordered, his tone firm and calm despite the despair around them.
"Hu-human… artificial respiration?" Mitsuri stammered, her eyes wide in panic.
"Hurry!" Akino snapped. "Every second you waste now is a second closer to his death."
"I… I understand."
Mitsuri bit her lip, forcing her trembling body into action. She leaned forward, pried open Yukishiro's mouth, and quickly cleared it as best she could. Her mind raced with memories of the emergency methods she had once practiced.
Taking a deep breath, she began artificial respiration, forcing air into his lungs. After two sets, she pressed her palms firmly to his chest, performing cardiac compressions with all the strength her slender body could muster.
"Please, please don't die," she prayed silently with each push. "Yukishiro… you can't die here.
Not now.
Not like this."
She repeated the process again and again—two breaths, compressions, two breaths, compressions. The rhythm became mechanical, desperate, almost frenzied. After more than ten cycles, Yukishiro still showed no response.
His skin was pale, blood loss painting his haori crimson, his body limp in the mud.
Akino's face hardened, and Yuka's expression turned hollow. Both began to feel the weight of hopelessness crushing their hearts. But then—
Mitsuri froze. Against her lips, she felt the faintest trace of warmth, a fragile breath slipping from Yukishiro's mouth. Her eyes shot wide open. She leaned closer, confirming, and when she felt it again, her tears spilled freely.
"Yes! Yes, there's breathing!" she cried, turning her tear-streaked face toward the others, her voice breaking with joy.
Akino immediately pressed his hand to Yukishiro's chest. A faint but steady thump echoed against his palm—the heartbeat of someone who refused to die.
Relief spread across his face.
"He's alive," Akino muttered with relief. "Heartbeat and breath… he's holding on."
Yuka nearly collapsed from relief.
She sat back, pressing her sleeve to her eyes.
But though Yukishiro had survived the brink of death, his condition remained dire. His blood loss was extreme, and without medicine, his life dangled by a fragile thread.
Akino's voice turned grim. "It's only six in the morning. There are still two hours left until the assessment ends at eight. Yukishiro's condition is extremely serious. If he isn't treated soon…"
His voice trailed off, the implication heavy in the air.
The joy drained from Mitsuri's face, replaced with dread.
"Then what are we waiting for?" she burst out. "We have to send him down the mountain immediately! He needs treatment now!"
Akino shook his head solemnly. "We don't have the right to make that choice for him."
Mitsuri blinked, stunned. "What are you talking about?"
"Do you remember what he said earlier?" Akino's eyes were steady as he spoke. "He said he only had two options: die here, or pass the test. He'd rather collapse fighting than retreat a single step. That determination isn't something we can ignore. If we carry him down now, even if we save his body… his spirit may never forgive us. Do you really think he'd be happy?"
"What's the point of happiness or unhappiness?" Mitsuri snapped, tears brimming again. "It's better than letting him die here! Even if he can't join the Demon Slayer Corps, he can still fight demons in his own way."
Akino's gaze didn't waver. "If that were truly enough for him, would he have fought so desperately, even to the point of losing consciousness?No… there's a reason he's willing to go this far. Something that drives him beyond normal resolve. That's what has kept him alive this long."
Mitsuri's breath caught. She suddenly remembered that first night in the woods. She had asked him why he wanted to join the Demon Slayer Corps. His reaction had been so strong, almost painful.
At the time, she hadn't understood. Now, she finally did. Yukishiro wasn't here simply for honor or pride.
He carried a reason powerful enough to anchor his very will.
She lowered her head, her tears dripping onto the mud. "What should we do then? Are we just going to sit here and watch him die?"
Akino fell silent, his brow furrowed. After a long moment, he spoke. "Some contestants carried medicine in their packs. If I can find them, maybe there's still a chance."
Mitsuri's eyes lit up with sudden hope. "Bandages and medicine… yes! I know where some are. Yukishiro and I collected three packs of supplies in the woods—they should have medicine. I'll go right now!"
She scrambled to her feet, ready to rush off, but Akino's hand shot out, stopping her.
"Wait. Are you going back to the camp where you gathered supplies?"
Mitsuri nodded quickly.
"No." Akino's voice was sharp. "It's too dangerous. In your condition, if you run into a Demon on the way, you'll be killed before you can return. You and Yuka stay here. I'll look instead. I remember seeing some contestants abandon the test earlier. If they left medicine behind, I can use it."
"Akino, you—" Mitsuri began, but before she could finish, Akino leapt down the hillside.
She and Yuka both gasped. He hadn't hesitated at all. Survival and victory were within his grasp; all he needed to do was last two more hours and he would pass the assessment. Yet he had willingly risked it all, throwing away guaranteed honor to save Yukishiro.
Yuka pressed her lips together, her chest tight with emotion. "Akino…" she whispered, her heart swelling with warmth.
Minutes stretched painfully. Mitsuri bent down again and again, pressing her ear to Yukishiro's nose, checking for his breath. Each time she confirmed it was still there, her shoulders sagged in relief.
Finally, movement stirred below.
Akino returned—accompanied by four contestants, carrying a large pack stuffed with medicine.
They were Kimura and the others who had forfeited at the last moment. When they heard Yukishiro had saved their lives and was now gravely injured, they couldn't turn their backs.
"Here," Akino said firmly, lowering the supplies. "Let's treat him quickly."
Mitsuri bowed deeply, tears shining in her eyes. "Thank you… thank you all."
Akino's hands were steady as he worked.
His family background in medicine had prepared him for moments like this. He stripped away Yukishiro's blood-soaked haori, revealing pale, scarred flesh beneath. Knife wounds crisscrossed his body—so many that Mitsuri gasped, covering her mouth in horror.
"How is he still alive after enduring all of this?" one of the others whispered, awe and fear mingling in his voice.
"Who is he, really?" another muttered. "What has he gone through?"
Every gaze turned toward Mitsuri.
Flustered, she waved her hands. "D-don't look at me. I don't know either… I only just met him."
Their questions went unanswered. Akino kept working, cleaning each wound and wrapping them in fresh bandages. Slowly, Yukishiro's breathing steadied. His skin, though pale, no longer carried the ashen tinge of impending death.
By the time they finished, the weight of fear had lifted slightly. With two hours still left, the group sat together in uneasy relief. Their conversation drifted aimlessly, sharing fragments of origin stories, family backgrounds, and why each of them had chosen the path of Demon Slayer. In that moment of quiet, their shared humanity pushed away the nightmarish memories of blood and darkness.
At last, eight o'clock arrived.
The group fashioned a makeshift stretcher from branches and cloth, carefully carrying Yukishiro down Mount Fujiki. The sun climbed higher, warm light spilling across the square at the mountain's base.
There, four masked figures in black uniforms appeared. The word Hidden was embroidered across their backs—the secretive unit serving the Demon Slayer Corps. They swiftly took Yukishiro from Kimura and the others, vanishing from the square with practiced efficiency.
Mitsuri instinctively moved to follow, but Akino caught her wrist. "Don't worry," he reassured gently. "They'll take him to treatment. With the Hidden here, he's in safe hands."
Before Mitsuri could respond, a clear voice rang out.
A little girl with snow-white hair stepped into the center of the square. "The Demon Slayer Corps assessment has ended," she announced. "Participants who failed to pass, please leave Mount Fujiki immediately."
The words were final. The trial was over.
Akino and Yuka exchanged a glance. Both were injured, exhausted, and unable to linger any longer.
They offered Mitsuri a bow before departing. Mitsuri bowed back, gratitude overflowing in her heart.
Soon, the square was empty. Of all who had climbed the mountain, only three figures remained beneath the rising sun, their futures forever changed.