Demon Slayer: Upper 0 seems to be a waste

I don't like Chapter 315.

Rinko dislikes thinking about meaningless questions.

But he couldn't stop thinking.

Just like now, he couldn't help but wonder at what second this battle would be declared over, and when this night would finally come to an end.

Was he tired? No, his body still had strength. The ghost hardly felt tired. His outstretched hand, clenched into a fist, could block the blade, and his kicking leg could collide with the blade again and again.

So, is it not tiring? Not really.

The sounds of fists and feet colliding with blades were almost deafening and jarring.

This reminded Rinko of the days when she practiced and trained with Kokushibo or Akaza.

He actually disliked fighting, never had, never liked it. He disliked killing, disliked eating people. He liked watching the stars, watching flowers bloom, watching birds fly by, watching fish swim in the water, liked reading, liked the feeling of the wind passing by, liked human hands holding his, warm hands like the sun that wouldn't scorch him, the desserts made by those hands carrying aromas that he could smell, making him want to reach out and taste them, a taste quite different from human blood and flesh.

But Rinko doesn't really have many choices of his own. When you accept something, you have to give up something else. He is a demon, so he has already given up some things. He won't know what it feels like to have the sun shining on him, he won't see the blazing sun with his own eyes instead of just seeing a shadow, and his stomach can't handle those exquisite pastries.

Between him and people lies an insurmountable chasm, wider than a river and deeper than a cliff. One side is forever illuminated by light and protected by the sun, while the other is darkness under the light, witnessed by the moon, the lingering souls of the departed, dragging out long, ghostly shadows.

He can never cross that threshold, so he can never choose some things or obtain others. Is the ghost greedy, or is it just that he is greedy?

Why is he always craving more, never satisfied, always wanting more, to the point that he never learns to hold onto what he already has?

Must we learn to grow through loss? Why don't other ghosts do that? Why is it only him who keeps losing? Why does he keep losing but never learn to grow? Why must we always lose?

Why can't we just gain? Why must we give up something? Why can't we keep everything?

Is this battle even meaningful? Is it something to be happy about if Kyojuro dies? And Tanjiro? Is that something to be happy about?

No way, it doesn't sound like it at all. Just imagining it wouldn't make me happy.

Does everyone dying sound like a good ending? No, it doesn't.

But does Muzan being injured sound like a good thing? No, what about death? That's a terrifying ending to even imagine. It's not that Muzan will die after he dies, it's just that Muzan's death sounds incomprehensible.

This is not a good ending, neither of them is, so he is fighting not because any of them is what he wants, but because one of them is what he wants even less.

"Is Tanjiro trying to kill me?"

An answer to a question that you get without asking.

Of course it is. Didn't I say it before? The anger in the other person's eyes when we first met, the roar at him, every slash he made, and every second now, isn't it all about killing him?

When his question went unanswered, Tanjiro was too busy thinking and dealing with him to pay attention. Perhaps something more important had taken away Tanjiro's attention. What was it? He didn't know.

"Hey, Tanjiro, do you think you can kill me by yourself?"

This question was a little different, but Tanjiro still didn't answer, at least not in the first second that Rinko expected, but after that, after a pause.

"I'll cut off your head!"

This is the answer.

What a pointless question.

Asking a question he already knew the answer to is pointless. He did something meaningless: asked a useless question, thought about useless things, and got an answer he already knew.

There's simply no time or energy to waste right now. Although delaying is also a path to victory—as long as Tanjiro can't find him, he'll win—it's permissible.

But Rinko still didn't dare to gamble. He didn't know how long it would take Tanjiro to break through his illusion, or when he would discover the facade he had hidden.

He picked up a Nichirin Blade from the ground, and when the two blades clashed, they created a sense of dislocation, reminding Rinko of her training with Urokodaki.

"Maybe I can't defeat you alone, maybe you're stronger than me right now, but tonight, we will win! We will win, the Demon Slayer Corps will win, and humanity will win!"

The Nichirin Blade cast a long shadow, like a burning flame or the sun's radiance hidden within it.

The piercing breathing sent chills down his spine. This collision was more intense than any before. The blade snapped in two upon impact, and the spinning blade aimed for his neck, intending to sever his head.

An arm blocked the way, and the blade scraped against the bone, making an even more piercing sound.

The eyes widened slightly as the bone was severed.

It wasn't because the bone was broken, but because the blade was aimed at the neck.

The neck wasn't severed; the skin was only cut open, and the tip of the knife pierced the throat, slicing open the trachea.

Because Rinko recoiled the moment she realized it, blood rushed to her head and choked her.

In the instant he was enveloped by a suffocating feeling, Rinko's vision went white for a moment. A long-lost feeling.

The last time I felt such a clear and intense sense of powerlessness and suffocation was when I ate human food and vomited uncontrollably, almost reaching the brink of death due to the physiological reaction.

But this time, no one will lift him up in their arms.

No one would rush to take him away, like a shadow in the night, like a burning flame casting a long shadow, just to give him a chance to live.

Rinko didn't like this night.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Rinko doesn't actually like to think about meaningless questions, or more accurately, not meaningless, but meaningless to him as an individual—questions he can't answer, or questions he may never answer.

But he also knew clearly that he might never master the method of stopping thinking, even in his next life.

Ghosts don't actually like to think, or rather, they're not used to it.

Or perhaps it's simply unnecessary.

Ghosts are mostly mindless.

Let's not talk about things that don't make sense, and let's not bother with things that are unclear. Most ghosts have their own set of logic. Regardless of right or wrong, they all have their own characteristics, and their logic is coherent and self-consistent for each individual.

If someone asks you why you did something, you can explain it. If they don't understand, you can say a few more words. If they disagree, then you disagree. Either you have different principles and can't work together, or you can't understand each other and it's a fight to the death.

Simple, pure, and effective.

Ghosts are such creatures.

And Rinko.

It is actually an anomaly among such creatures.

An anomaly among demons.

Every ghost has its own logic.

Just like Douma said, humans are food, and communicating with food, talking about understanding, and making friends is inherently unreasonable. Only a crazy person would do that.

Akaza's thinking is relatively pure and simple: the strong deserve to live, the weak are useless, and the despicable deserve to die again and again. It is only natural for their limbs to be broken and their heads to be crushed, as they deserve their fate.

The Half-Headed Dog's head was always very noisy, and everyone was arguing fiercely, but their underlying thoughts were actually similar: humans were all bad people who bullied the original body. Rinko was skeptical of this.

Yu Hu, on the other hand, felt that humans were mere raw materials, fools, and mostly tasteless individuals. He believed that once humans learned to appreciate his aesthetics, ghosts would probably no longer need to fear the sun. While this sentiment carried a ghostly undertone, it contained some truth to it.

Daki thought humans were worthless, men were trash, women were food—her mind operated on such a simplistic level that even Rinko couldn't help but sigh at her naiveté. Gyutaro, on the other hand, had a more comprehensive understanding, but it all boiled down to one sentence: anyone who was bad to his sister should die. That seemed a bit too simplistic.

Rin's mind was empty. He had no logic of his own, no thoughts of his own. His mind was born empty. He learned a little from here and a little from there, and then pieced together a box of messy puzzle pieces.

He therefore doesn't truly understand, doesn't know what acceptance is, doesn't know how to stand up for his own views, and doesn't know how to refute others' words. When problems arise in a conversation, he doesn't think about how to shut up the person who seems to have a problem with their head.

Instead, I thought...

Then he asked.

Why can't they understand each other? Why is his thinking not accepted? Why are they so similar? What are the differences between them? What are the problems? Why are humans so strange?

He was always asking why, but there aren't that many whys in the world, and how could every question really have an answer?

Maybe it's a situation where you both think you're right and he thinks he's right, but you both feel the other is wrong, and then you start fighting.

But Rinko could never remember this most basic truth and always overthought things, which made her a devil with a problem in her head.

But now that Rinko thinks about it, it's understandable that he has some kind of mental problem.

Fortunately, in his life, there were two most reliable people who provided a basic blueprint for these messy fragments.

One is Kokushibo, and the other is Muzan.

One of them drew borders and wrote rules on his blank paper, while the other kept adding ink to it, giving the originally empty paper 'Rinko' something of his own.

In fact, there was another person who also played a very important role in his growth.

Rinko thought.

He just didn't really want to mention that name.

But looking back at his past, at every crucial juncture, it was inevitable that he would bring up that name again.

If Muzan is the father and Kokushibo is the teacher, then what role does the name Tamayo play in Rinko's life?

Actually, that was his first teacher, Rinko thought.

The person who taught him what a father was, even before the concept of a father appeared, was someone who taught him what a father was, although Rinko knew that demons did not have fathers, it was just his own assumption.

Tamayo taught him what he was, what the world was, what danger was, and what safety was. Tamayo was like the person who taught him how to walk and talk, holding his hand and leading him to understand the whole world, which led to what happened next.

Rinko suddenly missed the time when she didn't remember anything. When she didn't know anything, she could just happily keep running forward because there were no ghosts chasing her, and no dead soul grabbing her and saying that she was dead.

He would never know that someone he valued so much had already harbored the intention to kill him before actually choosing to abandon him.

He instinctively sensed danger from that bottle back then, but now he thinks it was probably the earliest form of medicine. He just didn't think about drinking it then; if he had, his body at that time might have really died.

So why did you eventually let go of his hand when you were holding it? And why did that bottle that used to always sit on the table eventually end up in his pocket?

This is yet another unsolvable problem.

This is truly a very complex world.

Rinko doesn't like thinking, and she doesn't like not getting answers to questions, but ultimately...

Questions that cannot be answered, answers that will not be given, viewpoints that will not be accepted, hands that will be let go.

he thinks.

Actually, he just didn't like that in the end no one chose him.