Demon Slayer: Upper 0 seems to be a waste

That's such an impolite remark.

he thinks.

Rinko looked at the boy in front of him and listened to his words. This was his first reaction. He wasn't angry, he wouldn't be angry, perhaps because the other person only mentioned him and didn't touch on a second name, a second life.

His death was acceptable, so he wasn't angry, just slightly surprised by what the other person had said. It was really impolite. Was he such a rude child before?

Was it impolite? Perhaps it was just honesty, but if you think it's rude, I apologize, but I think I'm right.

Rinko didn't speak. He was certain that he didn't make a sound, didn't change his expression, and didn't even have time to think about these words more carefully in his mind.

But the boy realized it just like that, which is incredible.

But more than being surprised, he was thinking about those words.

Perhaps so. It's not that they're impolite, just more direct. They don't understand boundaries and rules, so they're more straightforward, more honest, and unreserved. They think anything is possible and will say anything.

So why, even though you're dead, are you just here?

The boy asked him, and Rinko looked at him without rushing to explain or refute. He thought for a while, considering the question itself and how he should answer it.

"Why did you say I was dead?"

He asked a question, but not in an inquiring tone; it sounded more like a challenge, a judgment on unreasonable behavior.

[Hmm—is that so hard to understand? It's just a reasonable deduction. You see, before, you were simply living your life, and I was just watching. But now, everything is different. For the first time, you've heard my voice and seen my face. I'm no longer just an observer living in an unknown corner, unable to intervene in the slightest. Right now, you're here, right here, and we're communicating, talking. But I'm already dead, yet you've seen me. Doesn't that mean you're actually dead too?]

The boy stood with his hands behind his back, tilting his head slightly, his curious expression mirroring that of Rinko, as if he were looking in a mirror. But instead of looking like a mirror, or rather, as if experiencing how others should see him.

"Then I have the same question I want to return to you."

【What. 】

“You say you are human, but I am a ghost. You say your name is Rinyang, but my name is Rinko. Since the child named Rinyang, who was human, is dead, has disappeared, and has become a ghost, then why are you still here instead of going where you should be?”

This question caused a moment of silence; everything became quiet.

Rinko watched the boy blink, then fall silent. The smile on her face slowly faded, becoming less obvious, disappearing, hidden away, concealed, replaced by a quieter, more composed expression.

It was as if they had finally ended a trial called a game, finally lifted the veil of mystery, and were no longer just hiding and deceiving each other.

Perhaps it's because you're still here; you are me, and I am you. You haven't died, so I can never leave.

"So if I were to die now, shouldn't you disappear? Why are you still here?"

[These are the questions that should be asked of you: Why am I still here? I'm clearly dead, so why haven't I left? Why won't you let me leave? Why aren't you dead? What are you living for? After I died, what are you living for?]

one question.

After many different questions, they all actually revolve around the same question.

What are you living for?

Living seems to need no reason, no excuse, no cause. Living itself is an outcome, a meaning, a purpose. The instinct of living beings is to survive, to find food, shelter, and to live. In this way, all living beings act according to this most basic instinct. The driving force is this, the reason is this, the meaning is this. Living itself is a meaning.

There is no reason to die, so I will not die.

Are you afraid of dying?

Not afraid.

Why not choose death?

Why choose death?

【why not.】

This is a topic that will never end; it will only continue indefinitely.

No one can give a reason; simply asking "why" is meaningless and will not yield any results. All the questions will remain suspended in the air, just as they were asked, becoming one unsolvable eternal question after another.

A fruit that might fall again at any time won't hurt your head, but it's enough to cause a dull, nagging pain, and only enough to cause a slight hindrance.

again and again.

Perhaps we should put it another way. A way that's easier for you to understand: what are you clinging to? What do ghosts live for? Purpose, meaning, reason, pursuit, obsession. Humans also live for this reason. If there are no goals, no expectations, if tomorrow holds nothing you want to wait for, you won't endure one long night after another. Instead, you'll hang yourself from the rafters in the dead of night, surrendering everything to fate, giving your life back to the night wind, letting it carry you away.

This could actually still be answered with the same question, but the reasoning wasn't strong enough. If he continued to ask, the other person would be stumped. But Rinko didn't need to do that, because he was now also curious—curious about the answer to this question. But it wasn't his.

He was curious about the boy.

"So why did you die? Was it because you lost your reasons, your pursuits, your obsessions, all of them vanished? Was your life meaningless, so you died? Did you end your life just like that, entrusting everything to the wind in one night?"

The boy seemed surprised that Rinko's attention was on this; he chuckled softly and shook his head.

No, quite the opposite, my wish came true, so I died. I died one night, under the moonlight, and I met the one who wanted to hold me forever. He healed me, and from then on I would never suffer from illness again, never be bullied again, no longer be treated as a useless sun, no longer a waste in winter. The happiness I longed for, everything I pursued, under that full moon, in those crimson eyes, I received it all, so I died content.

The boy spoke these words with such sincerity and candor that Lin Guang almost froze, for he knew that description, he remembered it, he remembered the blood-red eyes under the moonlight.

So he felt that on that night, in that layer of darkness, those eyes were more dazzling than the bright moon.

Because what he had seen before, in the very beginning, at the very start of everything, even before the moon, were those eyes that belonged to a ghost.

So why? When I had fulfilled my wish and decided to die content, why did you survive? You abandoned me, forgot me, and chose to live on anyway.

why.

Lin Guang asked himself.

He already had the answer the moment the question arose.

This is a question that doesn't need to be asked; it's a question he already knows the answer to.

Because of Muzan.

His pursuit, his obsession, and all he craved was not a healthy body, not a hand to hold forever, not a promise of not being bullied. He could achieve all of that. He was healthy enough to survive even after being poisoned multiple times. Even if no one held his hand, he would grab onto something himself, even a spider's web, to climb a cliff. He wasn't afraid of being bullied; he could protect himself. The demon hunters who hunted him would die a gruesome death, and those humans who were disrespectful to him would become food for wild dogs. He didn't need anyone's protection, promises, or help. He could accomplish all of this on his own.

He did not live for those empty desires, nor did he live simply because there was no need to die.

He wasn't afraid of death, but as he was thinking even before he realized it, if he had to die, he wanted to die in a meaningful way.

Perhaps it's more accurate to say that now.

He is not afraid of death, nor does he want to die. If he must die, it must be for Muzan.

It couldn't be for any other reason.

He would only die for Muzan; that was his value, his meaning, his pursuit.

"Because I have my own obsessions."

Rinko took a deep breath, a long one indeed. Her chest filled up, and it hurt when her lungs were full. Then she exhaled smoothly, her fingers slightly numb.

But you are already dead.

The boy tilted his head, and that smile reappeared—not malicious, just gentle, like a reminder.

"NO, I have not."

Rinko gently shook his head, turned around, leaving the darkness behind, leaving the boy behind, leaving all the memories behind.

He walked very fast, taking long strides, almost as if he were running.

【You are dead, Rinko.】

The boy's voice came from afar behind him, carried to his ears by a non-existent breeze.

Rinko shook her head fiercely.

"The one who is dead is you, is a human, is Rinyo. Not me. I am Rinko, the Rin of winter, the light of the night. I am Muzan-sama's Upper Moon Zero, Rinko."

He took off running through the endless darkness, just as he had done countless times before.

“I live for him, and I will die for him. And now, I’m going back to him.”

He was heading towards his end, his true fate.

He wanted to find the one who truly illuminated everything in the darkness.