Chapter 7: Legitimate Defense
Akira and Akito arrived in a quiet town to start their new life. During his time with the Demon Slayer Corps, Akira had managed to save a modest sum. Using that money, he opened a small sushi shop for Akito. Though humble, the shop was enough to sustain them both.
With what remained, Akito saved carefully while searching for a doctor who might heal Akira.
But despite visiting renowned physicians over the years, none could mend Akira's injuries. They said it was a miracle he could still move his arms at all. The chances he'd ever hold a sword—or even a kitchen knife—again were nearly impossible.
After many setbacks, Akira finally accepted the truth.
He released his obsession with recovery. He let go of the warrior he'd once been. That chapter was closed. Now, he was simply a man who could no longer wield a blade.
So he chose to focus on Akito.
Under Akira's guidance, the sushi shop grew steadily. Business improved, and their little restaurant became known throughout the town.
Watching Akito grow each day brought Akira a peace he hadn't felt since his injury. The restlessness and despair in his heart began to ease.
If he could no longer slay demons, then he would live like an ordinary man.
Though Akira never stopped writing to his old comrades. He kept in touch with his master, Tsugikuni Yoriichi, and his friend Tanjiro Kamado. His letters spoke of the restaurant and always invited them to visit and try Akito's sushi.
The Kamado couple sent warm congratulations, glad Akira had found peace. Though the journey was long, they promised to visit when they could, still remembering Akito's cooking fondly.
Tanjiro even wrote, "The town is lucky to have a place like your restaurant. Your brother's food would bring comfort to anyone."
Yoriichi's replies were fewer and always brief.
He spoke of his relentless hunt for Muzan Kibutsuji.
He mentioned strange sightings—demons stirring in far-off towns. He told of contact with Tamayo, the former demon now allied against Muzan. Since Muzan's escape, Tamayo had broken free of his control and aided Yoriichi's pursuit.
But according to Tamayo, unless someone as strong as Yoriichi gave their life in battle, Muzan would stay hidden indefinitely. The chances of finding him were slim.
Still, Yoriichi refused to surrender. Though human life was fleeting, he vowed to burn bright until his last breath.
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"Brother, stop staring at that letter and help me already!"
Akira was reading Yoriichi's latest letter when Akito called from the kitchen.
"Coming!" Akira tucked the letter away and hurried over.
Akito handed him several sushi orders. "These need to go out today. Can you handle them?"
"No problem," Akira said, slinging the delivery box onto his back.
With their growing business, the restaurant had started delivery services.
By the time Akira finished, the sun was setting. He smiled, counting the day's earnings with satisfaction.
But as he neared the shop, a strange tension gripped him. A crowd had gathered outside.
"Akito!"
A chill ran through Akira. His heart hammered. He pushed through the people and rushed inside—only to find Akito collapsed on the floor, soaked in blood.
He wasn't moving.
"Akito! Please wake up! Don't scare me!"
But Akito lay still.
Tears welled in Akira's eyes. His voice cracked with desperation.
"Who did this?! WHO DID THIS?!"
"We did."
A cold voice came from behind the crowd. The people parted, revealing two figures approaching the shop.
Akira's eyes narrowed. He didn't recognize their faces—but their uniforms were unmistakable.
They were from the Demon Slayer Corps.
"Who'd have thought a disgrace like you would be thriving out here, running a sushi shop after leaving the Corps?" sneered one. "We said a few words to your brother, and he had the nerve to argue with us over a traitor like you."
The other added, mocking, "Everyone knows what you did. You helped kill the former Ubuyashiki and let Muzan escape, didn't you?"
Akira rose slowly, his hand closing around a shard of blood-stained glass on the floor.
"Don't tell me you're going to fight us," one laughed. "You're crippled now, remember?"
"Take your brother to a doctor," the other scoffed. "I'll even pay for it."
Akira's voice dropped low, trembling with fury. "If you have a problem, take it up with me. But don't ever touch my brother."
"He hit us first!" one snapped, pointing to a bruise on his cheek. "Look at this! He attacked us—we were only defending ourselves."
In an instant, Akira's killing intent ignited. His eyes darkened, his body moved like lightning.
The two slayers flinched.
"So fast—!"
"Thunder Breathing, First Form: Thunderclap and Flash!"
A golden arc streaked across the room, swift and precise.
Akira's expression remained cold, unshaken.
"Too slow."
Despite his injured arm, Akira's movements were deadly. In his eyes, their attacks crawled in slow motion.
He sidestepped the first attacker and slashed cleanly. Blood bloomed like crimson flowers.
The second slayer froze.
"I—I didn't touch your brother… I swear—"
Akira's eyes glinted with deadly calm.
"It's alright."
He stepped forward, voice sharp as steel.
"I was just acting in self-defense."