Chapter 232 – 232: Hashiras

The towering gates creaked open, revealing a sprawling courtyard bathed in the warm hues of the setting sun. The tension in the air was palpable as we stepped through, our every move scrutinized by the guards stationed along the walls.

Their eyes lingered on Nezuko, crouched protectively beside Tanjiro, and Yuki, who strode with quiet confidence, her crimson eyes gleaming like rubies in the fading light.

Whispers broke out among the ranks of demon slayers, rippling through the gathered crowd.

Several guards stepped forward, eyeing Nezuko and Yuki with suspicion, their hands hovering near their weapons.

Whispers rippled through the small crowd as we walked past, the murmurs growing louder with each step.

“Is that… a demon?”

“Two of them?”

“And who’s that man with them?”

I smirked, finding their wariness almost amusing.

Ahead of us stood the Hashira, their presence commanding and intimidating as they formed a line. Each of them exuded an aura of mastery and strength that made it clear why they were the elite of the Demon Slayer Corps.

Compared to me, they are not powerful.

Standing at the center of the group was a man with a fiery mane of red and yellow hair, his vibrant presence demanding attention. This was Kyojuro Rengoku, the Flame Hashira. His bright smile seemed at odds with the tense situation, but his voice boomed with energy.

“Welcome, strangers! I am Kyojuro Rengoku, the Flame Hashira! I hope you’ll explain yourselves thoroughly!” His enthusiasm felt almost infectious, but his eyes betrayed a readiness for combat.

Beside him stood a smaller figure, wrapped in a pale lavender haori adorned with butterfly motifs. Her soft, almost sleepy expression was at odds with the keen, calculating gleam in her eyes. Mitsuri Kanroji, the Love Hashira, tilted her head as she regarded us with curious interest.

She was sexy as hell. She, along with Shinobu, was the reason why I came to Demon Slayer after all.

“So, that’s the Nezuko-chan in the box, the sister of the Demon Slayer,” Mitsuri said softly, her gaze shifting between the group. “And the other… she’s not quite a demon anymore, is she?” Her voice was warm but tinged with uncertainty. “They are cute.”

A sharp laugh interrupted her, coming from a figure lounging casually with his sword resting over his shoulder. Tengen Uzui, the Sound Hashira, exuded confidence. His flamboyant demeanor and bejeweled accessories made him impossible to ignore.

“This is going to be flashy,” he declared, smirking as he looked me over. “The man with the red eye—who even are you? And that woman in white, is she related to you?”

At the far right stood an imposing figure clad in an immaculate white haori, his face set in a permanent scowl. Sanemi Shinazugawa, the Wind Hashira, glared at Nezuko and Tanjiro with pure contempt, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

“A Demon Slayer protecting a Demon? And what is that lady in white?” he growled, his voice dripping with hostility.

“It’s not just them,” a deep voice rumbled. Gyomei Himejima, the Stone Hashira, loomed beside Sanemi like a giant carved from granite. Despite his imposing size, there was an air of calm about him, his large hands clasped in prayer beads.

Gyomei is a hulking figure among the Demon Slayers. He is one of the tallest characters in here, easily towering over his fellow Hashira. He is powerfully built and extremely muscular. He has spiky black hair and a prominent scar running horizontally across his forehead. Having been blind since childhood, he has white eyes with no visible irises or pupils.

“I sense something… unfamiliar in her presence.” His clouded eyes seemed to pierce through the veil of appearances of Yuki, as though he could see beyond the physical.

To Gyomei’s left was a young man with a cold, detached aura. Muichiro Tokito, the Mist Hashira, barely acknowledged us, his vacant gaze drifting somewhere beyond the horizon. “This is a waste of time,” he muttered under his breath.

Muichiro is a young boy of fair skin and short stature with a lean muscular build along with long, straight hair of a raven-black color that fades to a cyan color as it approaches his waist.

He wears his hair loose with two clumps protruding slightly from each side of his head, a set of marginally shorter hair left down to frame his face, and unruly bangs over his forehead. He also possesses large, empty-looking cyan eyes.

“Yes, this is a waste of time; we should just cut them all—The demon Slayer that broke our code and the demon, we can talk about the red eyed man and white women later.” Sanemi said as he walk towards Tanjiro and Nezuko.

“Why don’t you pick someone your own size?” I said as I blocked his way

“Enough,” Gyomei’s deep voice rumbled, silencing the murmurs. His eyes opened slightly, revealing a calm but piercing gaze.

Giyu continues after Gyomei, “Master was the one who called them, So master will make a decision for them.”

Sanemi’s footsteps faltered momentarily, his sharp gaze flicking toward Giyu. His scowl deepened, and he scoffed, his grip on his sword tightening. “You always hide behind the rules, don’t you, Giyu? Fine. Let the Master decide. But don’t think for a second that I trust any of them.”

Gyomei shifted slightly, the beads in his hands clicking together softly as he turned his blind gaze toward me. “The Master’s wisdom will guide us, as it always does. Until then, no blood will be shed here.”

Sanemi glared but ultimately stepped back, muttering under his breath. His posture remained tense, like a coiled spring ready to snap.

Rengoku Kyojuro, the Flame Hashira, let out a hearty laugh, his voice cutting through the tension like a warm blaze in the cold air. “Well said, Gyomei! Let us hear what the Master has to say. There’s no need for rash decisions when his guidance awaits us.”

Just then, “Master has arrived.”

~~~

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