Demon Slayer: Echoes of Resolve

A full year had passed since Kaito arrived at Mount Hakobe and began his grueling training under the retired Thunder Hashira, Jigoro Kuwajima. In that time, he had grown stronger, more disciplined, and more skilled in the art of Thunder Breathing. Kaito had mastered the first five forms of the breathing technique. Despite this, Kaito knew there was still much to learn, and the journey ahead promised to be even more challenging.

The dojo was quieter now that Kaigaku had left for the Final Selection a few weeks earlier. News of Kaigaku's success had reached them recently—he had passed and officially joined the Demon Slayer Corps. While the tension Kaigaku brought to the group had dissipated, a lingering unease remained for Kaito. 

The morning sunlight filtered through the trees surrounding the dojo, casting long shadows on the training grounds. Zenitsu was sitting on the porch, muttering nervously to himself as he examined his wooden practice sword. His bright yellow hair—still a sore point for him—shone like a beacon in the light.

"Gramps!" Zenitsu whined, looking toward Jigoro, who was seated cross-legged inside the dojo. "Do you really think I'm cut out for this? I mean, I'm terrible under pressure! What if I never get strong enough to fight demons? What if I just… die?"

Jigoro sighed heavily, his patience clearly wearing thin. "You've been training for a few months, Zenitsu. You've learned the fundamentals of Total Concentration Breathing, and while your fear holds you back, you have potential. Whether or not you survive as a Demon Slayer will depend on your ability to face that fear head-on."

Zenitsu groaned, slumping dramatically against the porch railing. "Face my fear? Do you hear yourself, Gramps? My fear is literally trying to keep me alive! I also got struck by lightning that strike turning my hair into this"—he gestured wildly to his head—"In case you forgot! I should be somewhere safe, away from demons and death!"

Kaito couldn't help but chuckle at Zenitsu's outburst. "Come on, Zenitsu. You're stronger than you think. Besides, Gramps wouldn't have taken you in if he didn't see something in you."

Zenitsu turned to Kaito with wide, panicked eyes. "That's easy for you to say! You've already mastered five forms of Thunder Breathing! Meanwhile, I can barely manage the first form without tripping over my own feet!"

Jigoro cleared his throat, silencing Zenitsu's rambling. "That's enough. This isn't about comparing yourselves to each other. Each of you has your own path to walk. Kaito," he said, turning to his more composed student, "your progress over the past year has been remarkable. You've shown the discipline and determination required to become a Demon Slayer. I believe you're ready to participate in the Final Selection."

Kaito's neon-green eyes widened in surprise. "You think I'm ready, Gramps?"

Jigoro nodded firmly. "You've mastered the first five forms of Thunder Breathing, and your understanding of the technique continues to grow. But more importantly, you've demonstrated the mindset and maturity needed to face the challenges ahead. The Final Selection will test you in ways training cannot, but I have no doubt you'll rise to the occasion."

Kaito felt a surge of both excitement and apprehension. He had been working tirelessly for this moment, but the thought of facing real demons—creatures that could easily tear him apart—sent a chill down his spine. Still, he knew he couldn't back down. Not after everything he had endured to get here.

"Thank you, Gramps. I won't let you down," Kaito said, bowing deeply.

Zenitsu, on the other hand, looked as though he might faint. "Wait… You're sending him to the Final Selection? Already? Are you sure that's a good idea? What if he gets eaten? What if—"

"Zenitsu," Jigoro interrupted, his voice stern. "You will also face the Final Selection when the time comes. But first, you must overcome your fear and master the basics. Kaito's path is his own, and yours is yours. Worry less about what others are doing and focus on your own growth."

Zenitsu groaned again, burying his face in his hands. "This is insane… We're all going to die…"

Kaito placed a reassuring hand on Zenitsu's shoulder. "Hey, you'll be fine, Zenitsu. Just keep working hard, and you'll get there. Gramps believes in you, and so do I."

Zenitsu peeked out from between his fingers, his expression a mix of gratitude and terror. "You really mean that? You're not just saying it to make me feel better?"

Kaito smiled. "Of course, I mean it. You've come a long way too, even if you don't see it yet."

Jigoro stood, his commanding presence filling the room. "Kaito, you'll leave for the Final Selection in a week. Until then, we'll focus on refining your technique and preparing you for the challenges ahead. As for you, Zenitsu, you'll continue your training here. The path of a Demon Slayer is not an easy one, but I expect both of you to give it everything you've got."

"Yes, Gramps," Kaito said, his determination evident.

Zenitsu muttered something under his breath, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "I guess I don't have a choice…"

--

The dojo was quiet that evening, save for the rhythmic sound of Kaito's blade slicing through the air. He moved with precision, each step deliberate as he repeated the sixth form of Thunder Breathing, Rumble and Flash, for what felt like the hundredth time that day. His neon-green eyes glowed faintly in the dim light, reflecting the fire in his heart. Despite the exhaustion in his muscles, Kaito didn't stop. He couldn't afford to. Not when the Final Selection was only a week away.

From the corner of the training hall, Jigoro watched his pupil in silence. His wrinkled face was unreadable, but his eyes carried the weight of someone who had seen too much of the world. He stroked his beard thoughtfully before speaking.

"Kaito," Jigoro called, his voice cutting through the stillness.

Kaito halted mid-swing, his blade stopping mere inches from the target dummy. He turned to face his teacher, wiping the sweat from his brow. "Yes, Gramps?"

Jigoro gestured for him to come closer. "Sit."

Confused but obedient, Kaito sheathed his practice blade and knelt before Jigoro. He could sense a shift in the old man's emotions—there was a heaviness there, a mixture of pride and something else… sadness? No, it was more complicated than that. Kaito's innate empathy allowed him to pick up on these subtleties, even if he couldn't always name them.

"You've come far in the past year," Jigoro began, his tone serious. "When you first arrived here, you were lost—both in body and spirit. But you've grown, and you've shown me that you have the heart of a warrior. It's time for you to take the next step."

Kaito swallowed hard, his pulse quickening. He had been preparing for this moment, but hearing it from Jigoro made it feel real in a way it hadn't before.

Jigoro reached behind him and pulled out a long, wrapped object. As he placed it in front of Kaito, the cloth unraveled slightly, revealing the gleaming hilt of a Nichirin Sword.

"This is yours now," Jigoro said, his voice solemn. "A Nichirin Sword, capable of slaying demons. You'll need it for the Final Selection."

Kaito's breath caught as he unwrapped the blade fully. 

"Thank you, Gramps," Kaito said softly, his voice steady despite the emotions swirling within him.

Jigoro nodded, his expression softening. "A sword is only as strong as the one who wields it. You've shown promise, Kaito, but the Final Selection will test you in ways you've never been tested before. Keep your wits about you, trust your instincts, and remember what you've learned here."

Kaito took a deep breath, nodding slowly. He could sense Jigoro's belief in him, and it was enough to steady the uncertainty gnawing at the edges of his mind. "I won't let you down, Gramps. I promise."

Jigoro smiled faintly, the corners of his mouth twitching as though he rarely allowed himself such expressions. "Good. Rest well tonight. Tomorrow, you'll begin your journey to Mount Fujikasane."

--

The morning air was crisp as Kaito stood at the edge of the forest, his belongings packed and his Nichirin Sword strapped securely to his side. He glanced over his shoulder at the dojo, where Zenitsu stood by the porch, fidgeting nervously.

"You're really going, huh?" Zenitsu said, his voice shaky.

Kaito gave him a reassuring smile. "It's not like I have much of a choice. The Final Selection is the next step. You'll be doing this too, sooner or later."

Zenitsu groaned, running his hands through his bright yellow hair. "I don't know how you're so calm about this. What if there are demons there? What if—no, when—they try to eat you? I mean, you're a nice guy and all, but demons don't care about that! They'll just—"

"Zenitsu," Kaito interrupted, his voice firm but kind. "I'll be fine. I've trained for this, and Gramps wouldn't send me if he didn't think I could handle it."

Zenitsu hesitated, his face scrunching up with a mix of worry and reluctant acceptance. "Just… don't die, okay? You're the only sane person around here. If you're gone, it's just me and Gramps, and I don't think I can handle that!"

Kaito laughed, shaking his head. "I'll do my best. Besides, you've got more strength in you than you realize. One day, you'll see it too."

Zenitsu didn't look convinced, but he nodded anyway. "Yeah, sure… if I don't pass out from fear first."

Jigoro approached then, his presence commanding as always. He placed a firm hand on Kaito's shoulder. "Remember what I've taught you. Keep your breathing steady and your mind clear. And don't let fear control you."

"I won't," Kaito said, his neon-green eyes gleaming with determination.

Jigoro nodded, stepping back. "Then go. The path to Mount Fujikasane is long, but it will give you time to prepare yourself mentally. Face it with courage, and you'll do fine."

With a final wave to Zenitsu and Jigoro, Kaito turned and began his journey. The weight of his sword on his back was both comforting and daunting, a reminder of the responsibility he carried. As he walked through the forest, the emotions of those he left behind lingered in his mind—Jigoro's stoic pride, Zenitsu's anxiety, and even his own mixture of excitement and fear.