The walk back to the Demon Slayer Corps headquarters was silent. Birds chirped, and wind rustled through the trees, but Yoriichi's thoughts were heavy with what had transpired.
He had wounded Muzan—perhaps fatally—but failed to kill him. And now, he had spared a demon. Though Tamayo had shown true sorrow, Yoriichi knew the Corps would see it differently.
And they did.
The Corps headquarters was not filled with praise, nor pride.
It was filled with silence.
Then whispers.
Then anger.
At the main hall, the Hashira stood—Rengoku, Kaminari, Mizuhara, Hayate, and Iwamoto—saddened, but unable to raise their voices against what followed.
The Corps leader stepped forward, voice sharp and judgmental.
"You spared a demon… and let Muzan live."
"Your own brother is now a demon. A betrayal of blood."
Yoriichi bowed his head, not in submission—but in quiet acceptance of their grief and rage.
"I did what I thought was right."
"And for that," the leader said, "you are banished. You shall no longer carry the mark of this Corps. Leave."
The sentence hit harder than any blade. But Yoriichi did not argue.
As he stepped outside, the sun above seemed dimmer. Word had spread quickly to nearby villages. People whispered as he walked by—eyes averted or full of contempt.
"There he is… the demon's brother."
"He let one go. They say he's cursed."
"He brought ruin."
He had no home now.
No Corps.
No brother.
Yoriichi wandered to the edge of the village, wind blowing through the cherry blossoms, now beginning to fall. His footsteps left no sound as he passed through the path out of the village.
He did not look back.
And the road ahead was now only his to Walk