Wild Boar

The moon was full, pale light washing over the forest clearing. The smell of blood was heavy in the air. Tanjiro’s lungs burned with every breath, the ringing in his ears barely fading after each clash. Akaza stood before them, unscathed, his eyes glinting with predatory delight.

“Your movements… have improved,” Akaza said, voice calm, almost respectful. “But you’re still too slow.”

Inosuke spat on the ground, tightening the grip on his twin Nichirin blades. “Slow? I’ll carve you up before you can blink, fancy-face!”

Tanjiro’s gaze flicked toward his friend. “Inosuke—stay sharp. Don’t rush in without—”

But Inosuke was already charging, his Beast Breathing forms ripping through the air with feral speed. The clash of steel and Akaza’s bare fists sent shockwaves through the clearing, splintering trees.

Tanjiro darted in from the side, his blade aiming for Akaza’s neck in perfect synchronization. But Akaza was fast—inhumanly fast. He deflected Tanjiro’s strike with the edge of his palm and sent a crushing kick toward Inosuke’s chest.

The sound was like a tree snapping in half.

“Inosuke!” Tanjiro cried, his heart pounding. Inosuke stumbled back, coughing blood, but still swinging, his movements wild and desperate.

Akaza smirked. “Persistent. I like that.”

Inosuke roared, ignoring the pain. “Shut up and fight me!” His swords blurred as he unleashed Beast Breathing, Seventh Fang: Spatial Awareness, predicting Akaza’s next move and intercepting him. For a moment, it looked like he might actually land a killing blow—his blade grazing Akaza’s neck.

But Akaza stepped inside the arc of his attack, grabbed Inosuke’s wrist, and crushed it with a sickening crack.

Tanjiro’s world slowed. He saw Inosuke’s eyes widen in shock—then Akaza’s palm glowing with murderous intent.

“No!” Tanjiro screamed, but he was too far.

Akaza drove his hand through Inosuke’s chest, piercing his heart. Blood sprayed like crimson rain under the moonlight.

Inosuke gasped, the wild fire in his eyes flickering. His knees buckled, and Akaza let him fall like a discarded toy.

Tanjiro caught him before he hit the ground. “Stay with me! Inosuke, you’re gonna be okay—just hold on!”

Inosuke smirked weakly, blood dripping from his lips. “Heh… guess you’ll… have to win without me, huh? Don’t… lose, Tanjiro…”

His eyes dimmed. His grip on Tanjiro’s sleeve loosened. The forest felt silent, except for the roar of rage rising in Tanjiro’s chest.

He stood slowly, placing Inosuke gently on the grass. His hands trembled, but his gaze locked on Akaza with burning determination.

“You took my friend,” Tanjiro said, voice low and cold. “I’m going to make sure you never hurt anyone again.”

The scent of grief and fury mixed in the air as Tanjiro’s blade ignited with Hinokami Kagura’s flame.

The fight was far from over. But one thing was certain—Tanjiro was no longer fighting just to win.
He was fighting to avenge.