Chika and Tanjiro stood outside the wooden cabin at the base of the mountain.Beside them, Urokodaki held two handcrafted masks—each carved with faint spiritual inscriptions and painted with a fox's grin.
"These are warding masks," he said solemnly. "They may protect you from disaster. During the Final Selection, I'll watch over Nezuko, so you two can go without worry."
Chika and Tanjiro each accepted their masks with a nod.Tanjiro wore the deep-blue uniform that symbolized the Water Breathing lineage.Chika, on the other hand… didn't.
Because, as fate would have it, Urokodaki had misjudged her measurements.
Specifically—the chest area.
The result? A training outfit with far more… empty space than necessary.Noticing this, Chika could only sigh.
Compared to Nezuko's—let's say—"blessed" figure, her own could barely escape the "flat board" category.For a moment, she even wondered if this was some subtle jab from Urokodaki himself.
His answer was dry and immediate."The tailor said it was made to the average female standard."
Chika's mouth twitched. "...Sure."
But instead of sulking, she shrugged and muttered, half to herself, half to them, "Honestly, small is better. Try fighting while carrying two weights on your chest—it's pure suffering. I'm lucky to be aerodynamic."
To her, it was simple logic.To Urokodaki and Tanjiro, it sounded like the quiet despair of someone trying to convince herself life was fine.
Tanjiro—bless his innocent soul—wordlessly reached behind him and pulled out… two steamed buns.
He didn't even get a full syllable out before—
WHAM!
Chika's "Fist of Sisterly Love" hammered down on his skull, making a clang like striking iron.A blow that hurt both sides equally but preserved her dignity.
Chika: Don't. Push. It.
And with that, the matter was permanently buried.She later swapped the uniform for something simpler; after all, as long as one of them wore the Corps colors, that was enough.
"Then… we'll be going," Tanjiro said, bowing respectfully.
Urokodaki nodded silently.
Chika gave a small wave—then paused.Behind Urokodaki, far beyond the mist, two faint figures appeared.
A boy and a girl, smiling quietly.
Sabito… and Makomo.
The next blink—they were gone.
Both were former disciples of Urokodaki, killed during the Final Selection years ago.If that vision wasn't a hallucination, then she had just seen their lingering souls.
So even now, you're still here…Their spirits hadn't moved on—anchored by regret.
Chika's gaze softened, but her voice was steady."Don't worry. I'll tear that demon apart for you."
She smiled faintly and gave a small, confident wave toward the spot where they'd stood before turning to leave.Urokodaki, meanwhile, looked mildly confused—and the ghosts even more so.
"Sabito… did that girl just see us?" Makomo whispered.
"Maybe. Tanjiro and Chika, huh…? Maybe they'll finish what we couldn't."
They watched the siblings fade into the distance, silent blessings on their lips.
Sabito had once been strong enough to slay that demon himself—but exhaustion had doomed him.In the days before the trial, he had spent all his energy clearing the mountain of weaker demons so that other candidates might live.By the time he faced that one, his blade was dull, and his body, spent.He died with his skull crushed between the demon's hands.
That demon still roamed the mountain.It targeted Urokodaki's disciples by their warding masks, hunting them out of spite.
And soon, it would scent two new masks—Tanjiro's and Chika's.
But this time… history would not repeat.
One clean cut would be too merciful, Chika thought, her smile darkening.Beside her, Tanjiro sneezed suddenly, feeling a chill run down his spine.
Mount Fujikasane wasn't far.For trained bodies like theirs, the distance melted away.Wind rushed past their faces as they sprinted through the trees, each step lighter than air.
For Chika, it was exhilarating—to feel the earth beneath her feet, to run by her own strength instead of sitting in a chair.
By the time they reached the base of the mountain, their pace hadn't slowed.To the gathered examinees already waiting there, the two of them seemed like blurs of wind darting past.
As the others turned to look, all they could see were two distant silhouettes, fading up the slope.
The mountainside was lined with cascading wisteria blossoms—long strands of violet petals swaying gently in the breeze.Their fragrance was sweet, but to demons, it was deadly poison.That was why Mount Fujikasane had been chosen as the Final Selection site—protected naturally from any outside demons.
When Chika and Tanjiro finally stopped at the clearing halfway up, the place was already filled with examinees.Their expressions were tense—each one steeling themselves for what was to come.
A quick scan told Chika all she needed.Some faces were too familiar to miss.
Blond hair, trembling resolve—Zenitsu Agatsuma.Scarred face, defiant eyes—Genya Shinazugawa.Gentle smile, pink kimono—Kanao Tsuyuri.
'Right on schedule,' she thought.
Tanjiro took a deep breath beside her. "Sister… we'll definitely pass this!"
He was nervous. He didn't know exactly how strong he'd become. But he was determined.
Chika said nothing. She only smiled slightly.Soon, they'd find out.
Gradually, more eyes turned toward them.Partly because of Chika's striking looks and her lack of a standard uniform—partly because of their entrance, the two gusts of wind who'd arrived like lightning.
Half an hour later, the crowd parted as two attendants approached—one boy, one girl, dressed in matching wisteria-patterned robes, each carrying a softly glowing lantern.
"Thank you all," the girl said with a serene bow."For coming tonight… to participate in the Final Selection of the Demon Slayer Corps."