It pains me to admit this, but my heart is heavy with regret. The legacy of my son, Kyojuro Rengoku, weighs heavily on my shoulders. As a father, I should have been there for him more - guiding him, supporting him, showing him the love and respect he deserved. But instead, I let my own insecurities and anger cloud my judgement.
Kyojuro was a remarkable young man - dedicated to his duty as a member of the Demon Slayer Corps and unwavering in his commitment to protecting humanity from the demons that threaten us all. His strength and skill were unmatched, his spirit unbreakable. And yet...I failed him.
My harsh words and actions towards Kyojuro stemmed from my own feelings of inadequacy. As a former Flame Hashira myself, I held onto an idealized vision of what it meant to be a true warrior - one who wielded Sun Breathing with perfection and grace. But in reality...I was just like any other human being: flawed and imperfect.
In moments of weakness or doubt, I lashed out at those closest to me - including Kyojuro. My son bore the brunt of my frustrations without complaint or resentment; he simply carried on with his duties as if nothing had happened. And now...he is gone.
The pain of losing Kyojuro cuts deep into my soul like a blade through flesh. Every day feels emptier without his presence by our side; every night haunted by memories that will never fade. But amidst this grief lies an opportunity for redemption: To honor Kyojuro's memory by striving to be better than I ever was before; by learning from past mistakes so they are not repeated again in future generations.
So here I stand today - Shinjiro Rengoku – humbled by loss yet determined to carry on in honor of all that Kyojuro stood for: courage, dedication, and above all else... love.
This blog post may never reach its intended audience but writing these words has brought some measure of peace within me. May we meet again someday, my beloved son.
End entry