Desolate moonlight spilled down like liquid silver, and crescent-moon blades—larger and more solidified than those of Izumi Kiyokazu—descended in a sweeping flow.
As they collided with the moon-blades Kiyokazu had unleashed, the fine crescents gnawed and bit at one another before dissolving into flickering sparks, vanishing into the silent night in an instant.
But it didn't end there. Kokushibo had chosen not to entirely negate Kiyokazu's attack; he merely parried the majority of it. Consequently, about two-thirds of his own moon-blades remained, surging directly toward Kiyokazu.
Kokushibo's response was textbook-perfect. He had neutralized Kiyokazu's assault with minimal effort and, in doing so, forced the boy into a defensive position. It was a flawless execution of combat efficiency.
"Very good."
Kokushibo's voice remained steady and calm, but if one listened closely, a hint of indescribable bitterness and joy was hidden beneath that flat exterior.
He was joyful because of the talent Izumi Kiyokazu was currently displaying. To be able to replicate Moon Breathing so perfectly after seeing it only once meant the boy truly possessed the potential to grow into a worthy opponent.
The bitterness, however, also stemmed from that very talent—or more accurately, from the talent that was identical to Yoriichi Tsugikuni's.
Swordsmanship that he had spent years of agonizing practice to create was, in the eyes of the person before him, merely a mediocre technique that could be replicated at a glance.
Back then, he had approached Yoriichi with a slight desire to show off his progress...
And Yoriichi? He had worn that familiar smile and congratulated him with the same joyful voice as always.
But... Kokushibo hadn't felt even a shred of joy.
This was especially true when Yoriichi Tsugikuni had used Moon Breathing right in front of him to point out his errors. Fury had flooded Kokushibo's mind; to him, what Yoriichi had done was no different from a deliberate humiliation.
But... could he truly hate him?
He was Yoriichi Tsugikuni's brother. He understood his younger brother's personality better than anyone. What Yoriichi had done was never intended to humiliate him; it was simply a manifestation of his brother's incredibly low emotional intelligence. Yoriichi had been sincere in his desire to help improve Moon Breathing.
Yoriichi had revered and loved him—how could Kokushibo not have known that?
But... Yoriichi, things have already come to this!
Images of the past flickered through his mind: Yoriichi's congratulatory smile after Kokushibo first learned Moon Breathing; the rice balls his brother had handed him; his brother's heartfelt praise for everything regarding his elder sibling.
What Izumi Kiyokazu was doing now was exactly what he himself had done back then.
The boy was displaying his talent, hoping to satisfy Kokushibo, hoping to prove himself.
Was this not a reflection of his own past self? Desperately wanting to prove himself to Yoriichi, desperately wanting Yoriichi to acknowledge that he, too, possessed talent in some form!
Perhaps fate truly does exist in this world.
Otherwise, why would Yoriichi's reincarnation be doing the exact same things before me that I did to Yoriichi hundreds of years ago?
Kokushibo found it strange, even to himself, but he was actually enjoying the process. He relished the sight of this "reincarnation" desperately seeking his approval.
No... you shouldn't have such vile, wretched thoughts!
Kokushibo scolded himself internally, but as he looked at the familiar Mark, an indescribable joy sprouted within him. The more he tried to suppress his emotions, the more intense that joy became.
It was a contradictory sensation. Kokushibo knew he shouldn't feel happiness or relief over this—it was petty and beneath him. But on the other hand, seeing their roles almost completely reversed satisfied his fundamental desire for the proper "elder and younger brother" hierarchy.
This was a taste he had never experienced with the original Yoriichi Tsugikuni—the taste of an elder brother actually being superior to the younger. It was a sensation he had been chasing ever since his days as a human, and even through his centuries as a demon.
Finally, three hundred years after Yoriichi's death, he was tasting it.
Even if the person before him wasn't the original Yoriichi, even if he knew this was merely a substitute, a proxy... he accepted it with relish.
As the eldest son of a prominent Sengoku-era family, he was supposed to have been the role model for his younger brother. He was supposed to have fulfilled the duty of "the eldest brother is like a father."
Yet, his entire life had been spent chasing his brother's shadow. Yoriichi had been like a sun that completely obscured his elder brother within his brilliance.
Yoriichi... Yoriichi...
If you hadn't been so exceptional... if only you had let me take care of you, even if I had to die to protect you, I wouldn't have had any regrets...
Twisted and complex emotions became entangled in Kokushibo's mind, eventually forming a tangible cord that wrapped around his "elder brother's heart"—a heart that should have died along with Yoriichi—and forced it to beat once again.
The duty of an elder brother that I failed to fulfill for you... can this boy be the substitute?
Look at him, Yoriichi.
He's just like I was back then, desperately seeking your recognition.
Elder Brother... Elder Brother...
Kokushibo suddenly smiled. The corners of his mouth lifted in an extremely faint arc as he looked at Izumi Kiyokazu.
"You saw my Moon Breathing only once, and without me even demonstrating it, you were able to mimic its form and even capture a trace of its essence. That talent... is indeed worthy of the 'Sun' heritage. However, when you unleashed that strike, you lacked the necessary resolve. Your sword is too cluttered..."
Kokushibo always spoke slowly. This was a reflection of the refined upbringing he had received as a human. Speaking with deliberation, carefully weighing every word, and adhering to the rules of hierarchy—that was Kokushibo.
His high-born education meant he almost never lied and never engaged in petty bickering.
Doma watched from the sidelines as Kokushibo—who was usually so stingy with his words during Upper Rank meetings—was now actually teaching an English swordsman's technique to a human, and in such meticulous detail. An odd sense of bewilderment welled up in Doma's heart.
Doma had heard Muzan's words and received his orders, but his condition was even worse than Kokushibo's. The areas cut by the Bright Red Blade were still agonizingly painful; he couldn't even stand up.
Ahhh... Master Muzan is going to be so cross when we get back. I didn't even get to eat that female Hashira. What a shame—I haven't tasted a strong woman in quite a while.
On the other side, Kokushibo found himself growing more fond of Izumi Kiyokazu the more he looked at him.
He had a premonition. The things he had never been able to experience with Yoriichi, he would now be able to reclaim twofold through Izumi Kiyokazu.
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Demon Slayer: Starting by Snatching Daki(194 Chapter- Ongoing)
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