Once again, once again—the smell of wood, a familiar ceiling, and a small window through which the calm morning light slipped in. His hand rose quickly to his eye. Both of his eyes were in pce. He shut them tightly, then opened them again. No smoke. No blood. No circle of death. Just the silence of morning. Outside, the distant sound of a bird and light footsteps passing near the door. The same day. The same moment. Everything reset to zero.

  This time he did not tremble or cry. Jack was smiling faintly.

  “So this is how it is… Do I return to this pce every time I die?”

  The memories of the battle were not a dream. They were clear and sharp—every movement, every scream, every drop of blood. He remembered their fall. He remembered Rengoku’s final smile. And finally, he remembered how dawn had approached… but it had not been enough.

  Jack stopped at the door. He did not open it. Instead, he slowly turned toward the quiet corner of the room where the wooden box had been pced. He walked toward it with steady steps, then knelt before it and opened it gently. Inside, his sister Nezuko looked at him with her wide eyes, smiling softly. He smiled back, then sat on the bed beside her and said:

  “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do, Nezuko. Every time I try to save Hashira Rengoku, it only gets worse.”

  Nezuko simply tilted her head, as if agreeing or disagreeing, unable to express anything else. Suddenly, Jack became immersed in the subject, speaking without restraint. He even described the details of the battle and how he needed to find a way to kill Akaza.

  But suddenly, Jack froze. He stared at Nezuko strangely and said:

  “How did I tell you all of this without my head hurting? That’s strange… Every time I tried to tell someone else, I suffered and couldn’t even move.”

  Jack was puzzled, but he found no answer at that moment.

  Just then, Zenitsu entered the house.

  “Nezuko-chan, you’re so beautiful! Your hair is amazing! Aaah, I wish I could sleep in your arms for the rest of my life!”

  Jack looked at him strangely and said:

  “Zenitsu, are you stupid or what? Get ready. We have to leave now. We have a long day ahead… and a long battle.”

  Zenitsu replied, fear in his voice:

  “What do you mean by a long battle, Tanjiro? Please don’t scare me!”

  Jack chose to ignore Zenitsu and focused on thinking quickly. His mind was racing to find another solution. All previous solutions had failed. He no longer wanted Rengoku to die. He had had enough. He no longer wanted to endure a painful battle like the one against Upper Rank Three, Akaza.

  Then suddenly, the inner voice:

  “Do you think the solution is tied to you or your strength, boy? You’re just a mouse in a horse race.”

  Jack said firmly:

  “Be quiet. You know nothing. All I want is for Rengoku to live. I don’t care about anything else. I don’t want to be the hero of this story. I just want to protect Rengoku and keep him alive. He doesn’t deserve to die.”

  Then suddenly he stood, turned toward the door, and said:

  “I’ve got it. It’s… it’s the crow. I understand what I must do now.”

  He took out a piece of paper and a pen from his pocket, handed it to the crow, and said firmly:

  “Don’t be te.”

  With those cryptic words, the journey toward the train began once again, an attempt to change the doomed fate—the fate in which Rengoku dies despite Jack’s prior knowledge of it. The message he sent with the crow remained secret. We did not see what was written. We did not hear its contents. But something in Jack’s gaze was different this time. He was not waiting for a miracle. He was creating one.

  Jack arrived at the train with Zenitsu, Inosuke, and his sister Nezuko, and they boarded. The train began to move slowly. Its wheels turned, the sound of metal against the rails the loudest in the surroundings. Everything inside the carriage was normal. Rengoku was eating and smiling calmly. Inosuke was in deep sleep, snoring lightly. Zenitsu compined of exhaustion while casting odd gnces at Nezuko.

  But Jack did not speak. He was silent, hands resting on his knees, eyes half-closed, breathing slowly. He was not waiting for a surprise. He knew when it would come.

  When the passengers began to fall asleep, Jack showed no surprise. Even when he felt the shift in the air and the unnatural coldness, he only opened his eyes. He needed no expnation. The confrontation with Enmu was faster than ever this time. There was no confusion, no reckless rush. Jack moved directly toward the source of the true body. His shouts were not hysterical. His strikes were not desperate. They were precise—as if he were reenacting a scene he had practiced a hundred times.

  Rengoku noticed and looked deeply surprised by his strength. With a single gnce, he understood that the boy had changed. So he let Jack fight alone while he focused on protecting the passengers.

  The battle between Jack and Enmu did not st long. It ended quickly. Enmu fell. The passengers were saved. Silence returned.

  But Jack did not smile. He did not celebrate. He looked toward the end of the train, where the darkness was thickening.

  He stood slowly, waiting for Akaza. He knew he was coming. No matter what, he had orders from Kibutsuji Muzan. He would come without fail.

  Then the ground trembled lightly. A measured, deliberate step. The sound of a foot striking metal. A cold smile emerged from the shadows.

  Akaza. Upper Rank Three.

  Rengoku Kyojuro stood before Jack steadily, his cloak moving with the wind. He raised his sword and said:

  “I am your opponent.”

  Akaza smiled.

  “Why waste your time with the weak? Become a demon. Live long. Then fight me forever.”

  Jack stood one step behind Rengoku, silent.

  Rengoku replied firmly:

  “Strength that abandons its humanity is not strength at all.”

  Akaza’s smile widened as he raised his hand.

  “Then I’ll break you until you understand.”

  In a fsh, Akaza unched forward and appeared directly before Rengoku, his fist glowing with dense demonic energy.

  “Destructive Death – Compass Needle.”

  A symbolic circle opened beneath his feet, glowing blue.

  “Destructive Death – Air Type.”

  His fist shot forward like a cannon.

  But Rengoku did not move. He raised his sword and took a deep breath.

  “Fme Breathing – Second Form: Rising Scorching Sun.”

  He surged forward, his bde bzing in an ascending arc of fire. The attack collided with the demonic fist, and the air exploded around them. The train shook. The wind ignited with heat.

  Akaza vanished again and reappeared behind Rengoku.

  “Destructive Death – Disorder!”

  A barrage of precise punches, each strong enough to shatter stone. Rengoku spun with astonishing speed.

  “Fme Breathing – Fourth Form: Blooming Fme Undution.”

  A vortex of fire coiled around his body, deflecting the blows from every direction. The metal beneath their feet cracked.

  Jack still did not move. His eyes only watched. He knew this rhythm. He knew when to intervene. He knew when dawn would approach.

  Their speed was like lightning. Jack could barely follow. They stepped back, staring at one another—demon’s smile, Hashira’s resolve filling the air.

  Akaza ughed softly.

  “Your fmes are beautiful… but you will die.”

  Rengoku answered steadily:

  “If the price is protecting the innocent, I will pay it.”

  Jack closed his eyes for a moment—not in fear, but in calcution. The battle was unfolding exactly as he remembered.

  Zenitsu and Inosuke protected the passengers inside the train.

  But Rengoku had begun to tire.

  Akaza wanted to end it quickly. He lunged forward, demonic veins glowing.

  “Destructive Death – Annihition: Blue Disorder!”

  A single punch, concentrated with all his power. Rengoku did not retreat. He raised his sword.

  “Fme Breathing – First Form: Unknowing Fire.”

  The sword cshed again with the fist—but this time it did not hold. The strike broke through his defense and exploded into Rengoku’s chest. His blood scattered into the air—but he did not fall.

  Breathing in fury, he countered:

  “Fme Breathing – First Form: Unknowing Fire!”

  A powerful ssh cut through Akaza’s arm, severing it.

  Akaza looked at it and smiled.

  “You’re strong… but your time is over.”

  “Destructive Death – Final Annihition!”

  This strike would have ended everything.

  Jack finally moved. He felt the danger. Why was he te? Why?

  He rushed forward to save Rengoku—but he was too te. His face turned pale.

  Then a calm voice filled the air.

  “Water Breathing.”

  Between Akaza and Rengoku appeared a still, silent shadow. His bde traced a perfect straight line.

  “Water Breathing – Eleventh Form: Dead Calm.”

  The demonic strike halted—then split in two in absolute silence. The lethal wave dissipated as if it had never existed.

  The man stood before Rengoku, cloak fluttering gently, eyes cold and deep.

  Giyu Tomioka.

  Jack looked at him and said:

  “He arrived at the right time… Just as I pnned.”

  Akaza smiled, both amused and irritated.

  “Another Hashira.”

  Rengoku was shocked by his presence. Giyu gnced toward Jack and said:

  “Your message reached me. Upper Rank Three. Train. It was clear. That was enough.”

  Now the bance had shifted.

  Three swords against one demon.

  Yet despite two Hashira and a strengthened Jack standing before him, Akaza felt no fear.

  He smiled at them and said loudly:

  “Come.”