Kimetsu no Yaiba: Breath of Smoke

*

- Flame Breathing! First form - Kemuri said.

- Unknowing Fire! - Shinjuro finished.

The 17-year-old and his three years older brother jumped on each other using the same technique. They no longer used bamboo training swords, but real blades with which they could kill an opponent if their attack strayed from the intended path. After a violent collision full of sparks katanas pressed against each other evenly. At least for the first few seconds, before Kemuri's legs began to slide backwards on the ground, which ended with fall of the younger swordsman.

- Once again! - Sanjuro shouted furiously.

Man sat outside the side entrance of the house, watching his sons exercise together. As usual, he dissatisfied and criticized almost every move they made, explaining how incompetently they performed the techniques of their venerable ancestors.

- Father, have mercy. Not even half of my wounds have healed - pleaded Kemuri, whose workout shirt showed bandages wrapped around his chest.

- Not only you - Shinjuro added, clutching his sore forehead, which was also covered with a bandage.

The black-haired teenager returned from the final selection less than a week ago. He thought that after such a great effort, he would have time to recuperate while waiting for the arrival of the blacksmith with his demon-slaying sword. In fact, he spent the first two days sipping tea, reading literature, or napping in the garden, hiding from the sun under the branches of a tree and enjoying the warm summer breeze against his cheeks. On the third day, his brother returned to the estate, and the father, unguarded by the absent wife, could not pass up such an opportunity. Since then, young men, expect of breaks for a meal and sleep, have not left the training ground.

- You will also ask the demons to stop attacking when you take damage?! - Clan leader was outraged. - The fact that you allowed yourself to get hurt is direct evidence that you haven't trained enough. If you want to survive, you must constantly improve yourself. Learn from mistakes. Don't cry over the pain of your wounds. Instead, think about why you let yourself get to this point and what you did wrong. Is that clear?! - he asked in a scolding voice.

- Yes, father! - answered the brothers in unison.

- Continue, then. Now the fifth form. Ready...

- Ex... Excuse me, Sir - the servant interrupted his lord in a low voice, as if trying to hide his existence.

He was a small boy with a slight build. The son of another henchman from the estate, who knew perfectly well how easily Sanjuro flew into a rage.

- What do you want? - the pillar of flame asked surprisingly calmly.

- Forgive me for interrupting, but an emissary from the blacksmith village has arrived with a sword for young master Kemuri. My father took him to the dining room.

- Good. Tell the cook to prepare some drink and hot food for our guest. You can leave now. - Rengoku dismissed the boy with a wave of his hand, and youngster, after bowing, rushed to carry out the order. - You two, take shower and change clothes. Then join me - he said to his sons, rising from his seat.

The young men waited until their dad disappeared behind the door, and then fell to the ground as if dead from inhuman exhaustion.

- Why isn't mom here yet? This tyrant will torment us until she returns - Kemuri lamented, lying on the ground.

- Crows told me she already finished the previous mission, but she immediately got the next one - the panting brother replied to him. - Don't worry, if they give you a sword, they'll send you on a mission. And father won't follow you.