The silence didn't last.
Sanemi's blade scraped against Giyu's with a high-pitched shriek as he pressed down, eyes bloodshot with fury. "You're protecting a demon. A monster."
"I'm protecting a person," Giyu replied coldly.
And then—Sanemi struck.
In a flash, the Wind Hashira lunged, slashing in a feral arc. His sword howled through the air. Giyu parried, pivoted, and answered with a sweeping strike of his own—one that forced Sanemi to leap back.
The clash exploded across the courtyard.
Sparks lit the air. Wind surged and water flowed.
Tanjiro gasped from the sidelines, too wounded to move. Nezuko stayed hidden in her box, trembling.
The other Hashira stood still—but tension thickened the air.
Tengen crossed his arms. "Well, this just got flamboyant."
Mitsuri looked distraught. "Why are they fighting each other?"
Muichiro blinked blankly. "Doesn't concern me."
Shinobu's eyes narrowed. "This is unlike Giyu… he's serious."
Then—a third blade joined the fray.
Obanai Iguro leapt into the battle with a hiss, his serpent winding around his neck. "You're a disgrace, Tomioka," he said as he lunged. "Siding with demons over slayers?"
His sword lashed out like a viper. Giyu sidestepped, eyes never blinking.
Two against one.
Wind and Serpent circled.
But Giyu's heart… was calm.
And in that moment—he felt them.
Sabito.
Makomo.
Their voices echoed within his soul.
"You were never alone, Giyu."
"Remember who you are."
The weight lifted.
The doubt disappeared.
And Giyu unleashed everything.
"Water Breathing, Ninth Form: Splashing Water Flow, Turbulent."
He moved like liquid rage—flowing between Sanemi and Obanai, striking, deflecting, driving them back with relentless precision. They attacked in tandem, but he anticipated every move, his blade dancing like a storm-fed river.
Obanai stumbled back, breath short. Sanemi gritted his teeth, drawing blood from his palms as he charged again—but Giyu met him head-on.
Their blades locked.
And then—a voice cut through the chaos.
"Enough."
Everyone froze.
From behind the doors of the mansion, Kagaya Ubuyashiki, the Master of the Demon Slayer Corps, had arrived.
Carried in by attendants, his fragile body wrapped in silks, his face calm and smiling.
The three combatants lowered their blades.
Kagaya's soft voice drifted through the stunned courtyard. "Giyu… why did you raise your sword against your comrades?"
Giyu sheathed his blade. "Because they sought to kill a girl who has harmed no one. A demon, yes. But one who chose not to devour even when drenched in blood. That is not a monster."
Kagaya looked toward Nezuko's box. Then at Tanjiro. Then back to Giyu.
"A demon who refuses blood," he murmured. "And a Hashira who chooses her over wrath…"
He closed his eyes, smiled gently.
"There is blood in this courtyard," he said, "and yet she stays silent."
He turned to the others.
"She shall be accepted. The Kamado siblings are under my protection now."
Sanemi trembled with fury, but said nothing.
Giyu remained still—his blade sheathed, his eyes serene.
From where he lay, Tanjiro's breath caught. His chest swelled—not with pain, but pride.
Giyu Tomioka had faced his fellow Hashira for their sake. Alone.
Tanjiro bowed deeply from the ground, forehead pressing against stone.
In his heart, Giyu was no longer just the man who spared his life—
He was the one who stood against the storm.