Chapter 4: The Trial |
Tamayo and Yushiro departed, oblivious to the fact that Yeruashi was still there. He hadn't moved an inch, remaining separated from the river of time.
As he watched them leave, a mysterious golden radiance flickered in Yeruashi's eyes, and he saw the branching paths of the future sprawling like the crown of a colossal tree.
'I have shifted the trajectory of the future, but will the original ending change entirely?' he mused with a slight smile.
The medicine's recipe was authentic, but so many years had passed since its conception that many of the required herbs might have gone extinct.
Because of this, Tamayo faced a challenge far greater than simply following a recipe. To succeed, she would need to find substitutes for the missing ingredients. The task was not only incredibly complex but also one that would take a long time to complete.
In truth, the ten-year limit had not been a random estimate. A glimpse into the future had revealed that perfecting the poison would take exactly that long.
It coincided perfectly with the time remaining before Nezuko's transformation and the start of Tanjiro's journey.
'Well, time to find something interesting...' Chuckling, he cast one last look at the tangled threads of the future and vanished.
...
Dilapidated shacks lined the street, and people in ragged, patch-covered clothes wandered aimlessly.
The current era was filled with such miserable villages.
In a back alley, a group of children around ten years old huddled together. Their chipped, worn bowls sat before them, entirely empty. They had not eaten a single bite today.
This was the norm in these forgotten districts. Some were orphans; others had been cast out by parents who simply could not afford another mouth to feed.
But...
Being thrown onto the street was not even the worst fate.
Some parents sold their children to slave traders for a modest sum of money.
The orphans and street urchins could only curl into balls, watching passersby with hollow, pleading eyes in the hope of receiving even a scrap of food.
And then.
Thump!
Several loaves of pure white bread dropped into the chipped begging bowls. The children's dull eyes flared with life, and a desperate struggle for food erupted instantly.
The stronger and healthier ones snatched the lion's share, while the frail and weak were left with only meager crumbs.
There was one exception, however.
A young girl, thinner than the rest but far more agile, nimbly swiped a large piece. She retreated into a corner and began devouring it ravenously.
In a village this poor, it was rare for anyone to have the will or the means to feed orphans. It was not uncommon for children to wait days for even a single scrap of waste.
Many had already succumbed to starvation. Those who remained understood that they had to fight with everything they had for every crumb if they wanted to survive.
But today was different.
After the first loaves were divided, more appeared in the bowls for the other children to take.
This continued until every child held two large loaves of bread.
Sated for the moment, the children settled down and looked up at the man who had provided the feast.
They were baffled by Yeruashi’s appearance. He wore simple wooden geta and a loose kimono, yet he seemed to have no pockets at all.
'Where did this stranger keep all that bread? He couldn't have pulled it out of thin air...' many wondered.
Doubts aside, no one asked. For a hungry child, the only thing that mattered was the presence of food.
"Th-thank you..." the agile girl whispered after taking the edge off her hunger.
Yeruashi remained silent until everyone had finished eating. "I offer you a trial," he announced. "Those who pass will become my disciples. You will never want for food again. Those who are willing, follow me."
He turned and walked away. The children exchanged glances. Most didn't understand what it meant to be a disciple, but they understood the part about the food.
Hesitation did not last long. One child stood up and followed, then another, then a third, and soon the rest followed suit.
After a while, Yeruashi led a dozen children out of the village to the base of a nearby mountain.
"The trial is simple: reach the top of this mountain."
"I will be waiting at the peak."
With that, he turned and vanished into the mountain forest.
The children stared at the mountain. The most impatient ones dashed forward, and the rest gradually followed their lead.
"This won't be easy..." Makomo muttered, watching the others disappear into the woods.
Having been the first to speak to Yeruashi, she was now the last to rush in.
The climb would be far more difficult than it appeared; a simple walk wouldn't constitute a trial. She expected traps and dangers lurking on the slopes.
But...
Makomo clenched her small fists tightly.
Danger or not, this was a rare chance to change her destiny. She could not give up. The alternative was dying of hunger in a gutter like so many others.
She didn't expect a walk in the park, but there had to be a path to victory. Her intuition told her the stranger would not lie to her.
Makomo finally stepped into the woods, long after the others had already started their ascent.
As soon as she entered, a scream echoing with pure terror reached her ears.
"Ah!!!" Another cry rang out—this one filled with agony—followed by the heavy sound of something crashing down.
It didn't take a genius to realize that the trial had already claimed its first casualties.
Makomo was shaken, but it was not unexpected. She took a deep breath, calmed her nerves, and continued her determined climb.
Thud!
While walking, she suddenly tripped. A sharp gust of wind whistled above her head. Without a moment's hesitation, she rolled to the side. An instant later, a deafening crash shook the ground.
Her face turned pale as she looked back.
A massive log had slammed into the exact spot where she had tripped moments ago.
If she hadn't reacted instantly, she would have been crushed.
"D-dangerous..." she bit her lip, casting a tense gaze toward the summit.
Fear began to take hold, but she gritted her teeth, stood up, and pressed on, carefully scanning her surroundings and listening to every rustle.
At the peak, Yeruashi sat and watched the forested slopes. He saw children getting injured, and others simply turning back. Nothing escaped his notice.
Only ten minutes had passed since the start of the trial, and only three children were still climbing.
Soon, another gave up.
Then another.
Until only one remained.
"Naturally, only she could do it," Yeruashi said with a smile.
Even without his interference, she was destined to become the disciple of Sakonji Urokodaki, much like Tanjiro.
As a student of a former Hashira, she was far more gifted than ordinary children, even if she had ultimately fallen to the Hand Demon.
"Almost there," Yeruashi nodded, watching Makomo approach the final stretch. He gave a slight wave of his hand, and all the children—including those who had been killed—appeared nearby.
With a snap of his fingers, their wounds vanished, replaced by bandages, leaving only minor bruises and scratches.
He stood and looked ahead.
Ten minutes later, a battered and exhausted Makomo emerged on the mountain path, leaning on a thin branch.
Her body had reached its limit. Every movement was agony, but she kept forcing herself forward.
Finally, she reached Yeruashi. He looked at her with a warm smile. "You have passed the trial."
"..." Hearing those words, the girl lost the last of her strength. She began to fall backward toward the slope, but Yeruashi caught her before she hit the ground.
"Rest now..." his gentle voice whispered in her ear.