Chapter VII: Legitimate Defense
Akira and Akito arrived in a quiet little town to start a new life. During his time in the Demon Slayer Corps, Akira had managed to save a modest sum. He used that money to open a sushi restaurant for Akito. Though small, the shop was more than enough to sustain their daily needs.
With the money that remained, Akito saved some and used the rest trying to find a doctor who could help Akira.
But no matter how many renowned physicians they visited over the years, none could do anything about Akira's injuries.
In their words, it was already a miracle that Akira could even move his arms. The chances of him wielding a sword again—or even a kitchen knife—were next to none.
After suffering blow after blow, Akira finally accepted reality.
He let go of his obsession with recovery. He no longer clung to the past or to the warrior he once was in the Demon Slayer Corps. That part of his life was over. Now, he was just an ordinary man—one who could no longer lift a blade.
So he chose to focus his life on Akito.
Under Akira's guidance and dedication, the little sushi shop slowly expanded. Business grew steadily, and the restaurant became well known in the town.
Watching Akito grow day by day brought Akira a peace he hadn't felt since his injury. The restlessness and despair in his heart began to subside.
If he could no longer slay demons, then he would live like an ordinary person.
Of course, Akira never stopped writing to his old comrades. Over the years, he kept in touch with his master, Tsugikuni Yoriichi, and his friend Tanjiro Kamado. In his letters, Akira would tell them about the restaurant and often invited them to visit and try Akito's sushi.
The Kamado couple sent back warm congratulations, happy that Akira had found peace. Though the journey was long, they promised to visit when they could. They said they still remembered Akito's cooking vividly.
Tanjiro even wrote, "The town is lucky to have a place like your restaurant. I know your brother's food would bring comfort to anyone."
As for Tsugikuni Yoriichi, he didn't write back as often, and his letters were always brief.
His replies usually mentioned his ongoing pursuit of Muzan Kibutsuji.
He wrote of strange sightings—demonic activity in distant towns. He mentioned that he had made contact with Tamayo, the former demon who had once served under Muzan but now fought against him. Since Muzan's escape, Tamayo had somehow broken free of his control and had been aiding Yoriichi in tracking him down.
But according to Tamayo, unless someone like Yoriichi or someone of equal strength gave their life in battle, Muzan would remain in hiding indefinitely. The chances of finding him were slim to none.
Still, Yoriichi refused to give up. Even if human life was short, he was determined to burn bright until his final breath.
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"Brother, stop staring at that letter and help me already!"
Akira had just opened the latest letter from Yoriichi when he heard Akito calling from the kitchen.
"Coming!" Akira quickly tucked the letter away and hurried over.
Akito had prepared several sushi orders and handed them over one by one. "These need to go out today. Can you handle them on your own?"
"No problem," Akira replied, slinging the delivery box onto his back.
Thanks to their growing business, the restaurant had recently started offering delivery services.
By the time Akira finished all the deliveries, the sun had begun to set. He smiled as he counted the day's earnings, pleased with how things had turned out.
But as he approached the shop, something felt off. A large crowd had gathered out front.
"Akito!"
A chill ran down Akira's spine. His heart raced. He shoved through the crowd and rushed into the restaurant—and his eyes widened in horror.
There lay Akito, collapsed on the floor and soaked in blood.
He wasn't moving.
"Who did this!?" Akira shouted internally. "A demon? No—it's still daytime. That's impossible!"
"Akito! Akito!"
He dropped to the ground and gently cradled his brother's head. "Please wake up! Don't scare me… please!"
But no matter how he pleaded, Akito remained unresponsive.
Tears welled up in Akira's eyes as his voice shook with desperation. He looked around at the onlookers like a wild beast cornered and enraged.
"Who did this?! WHO DID THIS?!"
"We did."
A cold voice rose from behind the crowd. The people parted, revealing two figures walking toward the restaurant.
Akira's eyes narrowed. He didn't recognize their faces—but the uniforms they wore were unmistakable.
They were from the Demon Slayer Corps.
"Who would've thought a disgrace like you would be thriving out here, running a sushi shop after leaving the Corps." One of them sneered. "We just said a few words to your brother, and he had the nerve to argue with us over a traitor like you."
The other added with a mocking grin, "Everyone in the Corps knows what you did. You helped kill the former Ubuyashiki and let Muzan get away, didn't you?"
Akira stood slowly, silently, his hand closing around a shard of blood-stained glass on the floor.
"Whoa, you're not going to try and fight us, are you?" one of them laughed. "You're crippled, remember?"
"Take your brother to a doctor," the other scoffed. "I'll even pay for it."
Akira's voice was low and trembling with fury. "If you have a problem, take it up with me. But don't ever touch my brother."
"He hit us first!" the first one snapped, pointing to a bruise on his cheek. "Look at this! He attacked us—we were just defending ourselves."
Akira's killing intent exploded in an instant. 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. But Akira's expression remained cold, unshaken. "Too slow."
Even with an injured arm, the rest of Akira's body moved with deadly precision. In his eyes, their attacks were sluggish—like slow motion.
He sidestepped the first attacker and, with a swift motion of his arm, slashed him cleanly. Blood erupted like a crimson blossom.
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, his voice cutting like steel.
"I was just acting in self-defense."