Chapter Sengoku - The Memory He Didn't Show Them

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A day following Tanjiro's end...


Narrator: Yoriichi Tsugikuni


It hasn't been long since Tanjiro joined the predecessors of the Sun Magic in the realm where they all live. He was overjoyed to see his father, which I'm happy about. I really envy him. He got to have his own family and live a serene life. But for me, I could never have that happiness. Perhaps... what he said was right.

I think it's time I showed Tanjiro and Sumiyoshi the memory I was talking about nearly seventy years ago. I walk up to Tanjiro and Sumiyoshi. "You two, follow me. It's time," I say to them. Both of them follow me, and I draw out my sword and tear open another realm. "I told you I'd show you this memory after Tanjiro died. And he's passed, so..." I followed, leading them into the realm.


I was sitting down on a rock behind the house of a family I saved. I stared into the sky, watching the sun rise. "How beautiful. If only I got to watch this with Uta and my child..." the other me muttered, looking to his left. In that moment, I imagined my wife and my unborn child sitting on that rock.

But, something else catches my attention. Suddenly, on the wall, a pink portal appears, and a person cloaked in a blurry red and black aura comes out of it. I was wary of him, but I could tell he harbored genuinely no ill intention. "So, you must be Yoriichi Tsugikuni. It's a pleasure. I've longed to meet you for a while," he says to me, sitting down on the rock.

"I heard you lost your family five years ago. My condolences," he says, expressing remorse for my past. "Thank you. Tell me, why do you want to speak to me?" the past me asks him, curious about his intentions. "I want to know more about this world. If I remember correctly, this world is a reality where demons exist, right?" the person honestly answers, looking up into the sky.

Demons (They are a race that is comprised of mostly carnivorous, vampire-like species whose primary diet is humans, consuming their flesh and mostly the blood. Sunlight is deadly to them and will burn them to ash, so they only usually make moves on their prey at night. These creatures have an abnormally powerful physical constitution and regenerative ability which makes them immune to normal weaponry and grants them the ability to regenerate from any wound with ease, even re-growing their head. Only the Nichirin swords, special weapons made from special ore with sunlight absorption properties, can inflict life-threatening wounds. Of course, even with a Nichirin Sword, the only method guaranteed to kill a demon is by chopping its head off. Demons are also known to hate Wisteria flowers, which are poisonous to them.)

"Correct. I want to admire this beautiful world, and wander endlessly to see how far the sky would reach," the other me replied. "Yoriichi-san, I would like to see your skill for myself. Draw your blade, and fight me," the person requested, drawing a sword out. It looked... odd. It had nine segmented blades, with each one connected by a stretchable thread. Whenever he swung, the blades would act upon his own intentions, detaching and reattaching at his will, as if the sword were his very mind.

The other me drew his sword out, and we instigated a quick sword fight. It went on for a while, and eventually, he decided to let it end there. "You live up to the rumors. You truly are a great swordsman," he comments, sheathing his blade. "I feel the same way about you. Your swordsmanship is truly refined, yet I see that you're still holding back," the other me says, feeling rather disappointed about his skill.

"You could tell? You really DO have sharp eyes. Anyway, I want to talk about "purpose in life." Come on, sit here," the person requested, patting a place next to him. I sat down. "I have a question for you. Do you think people have purposes in life?" he asks me, and I think about it. "I personally think we do. For me, I was born with special power for the purpose of killing a man called Muzan Kibutsuji, and to wipe out demons from the face of this world," I say.

Muzan Kibutsuji (A crime boss who lived to be one thousand years old. He is the leader and the founder of the crime syndicate we know as the Twelve Kizuki. The opposing faction to them was the Slayers Corporation. In the end, the Slayers Corporation emerged victorious, having eliminated Muzan Kibutsuji at the sacrifice of five valued comrades. As a result, every last person (excluding Sinistrius) affiliated with the Twelve Kizuki as a demon was wiped out from existence.)

"What are your thoughts?" the other me asks him. "Hmm... to be honest, I can't say I relate. I actually DON'T think we have a purpose in life," he replies, scratching his head. "But, don't we all have a reason for being born?" I ask, surprised by my friend's answer. He shakes his head.

"I don't believe we have a reason to be born. We were birthed into this world because we were just simply picked by natural selection, and that our own ancestors survived multiple catastrophes to get here. We derive what we call our life's purpose from our strengths, weaknesses, abilities, our past, our karmic destiny, that stuff. I doubt it, though. We were all born with our own specialties because that's just how we're genetically constructed. But... if you really DID have a purpose because of your special strength... I think its purpose would be to open a path. A path for a future generation to finish the job," he says, explaining his reasons for disagreeing with me.

The past me thought about it for a while, and realized that he was probably right. Everyone has their flaws, and there will never be a way to escape that.

"Well, I have things to be doing. Remember this chat, Yoriichi-san. I'll probably never see you again," the person says to me, standing up from the rock. He opens another portal, and he starts entering when I had stopped him. He looks at the other me. "State your query. To the point," he says, stopping. "You know my name, but I don't know yours. Mind telling me?" I request.

I look at Tanjiro. "This next piece of information will be surprising to you, and may very well flip your entire journey and make you question every battle you've fought," I tell him. He listens carefully. The person sighs, and answers. "You can call me Isekai Mizuki," he replies, entering the portal. The memory ends there.


All three of us are ejected back into the Sun Magic realm, and I look at Tanjiro and Sumiyoshi, who were both completely stupefied. "Isekai... how...? How could you have lived these past five hundred years...?" Tanjiro questions, dropping to his knees. "What I know about my friend has just turned upside down completely. He's clearly no demon, but he's no human, either...!"

"By all means, he's a being more supernatural than I am. His power isn't a Breathing nor a Blood Magic, as far as I'm aware. His style isn't a derivative of either of the five main Magic styles. There's many more reasons I can go into, but the outcome is simple; he isn't from here at all. Are there perhaps other realities? Maybe he came from one of them," Yoriichi thinks out loud, trying to explain his theories about Isekai's being.

"What has he been doing these past hundred or so years?!" Tanjiro asks, freaked out he might be doing something villainous. "I was watching your descendant. As it turns out, he, along with three other people, met him while going home from their place of education. Only I know about this, but he told them about their ancestors. In other words, you," Yoriichi replies, trying to remember what happened.

Isekai Mizuki (The strongest member of his friend group. Everyone thought of him as a normal person who was gifted with a strange power only he could use. Only known by Tanjiro and the first two holders of the Sun Magic, he is actually an immensely powerful being who matched the battle prowess of Yoriichi Tsugikuni while holding back, and known only to Toko, Yoshiteru, Sumihiko and Kanata, he has lived for at least 100 years if he knows their ancestors. His magic isn't a Breathing nor Blood Magic. Given that he met Yoriichi, and that he lived to see the descendants of his friends, he has lived for at least 700 or so years.)

"Why...? Why didn't you tell us...? We wouldn't have had to sacrifice those lives if you just ended him there...!" Tanjiro questions, being reminded of the friends he lost, the teachers included.


To be continued...

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