Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba, despite its action-packed focus, has always been an incredibly emotional series. Inner demons have just as much power over the heroes as the literal ones who threaten their lives. Demon Slayer’s “Hashira Training Arc” season focuses on all-out Demon and Hashira warfare. This means that the Demon Slayer Corps. need all the help that they can get, including cooperation from their most passive members, like Giyu Tomioka.
“Water Hashira Giyu Tomioka’s Pain” is all about dealing with one’s past trauma, the acceptance of guilt and loss, and learning how to move on and transform this pain into productive energy. This is a lesson that Tanjiro has had to learn several times over – most recently through the loss of Kyojuro Rengoku – but it proves to be a much harder and more visceral process for Water Hashira, Giyu Tomioka. So much of Demon Slayer’s Hashira Training Arc is prepared to focus on improving individuals’ physical strength, sword skills, and breathing techniques so that they can earn their Hashira marks and survive against Muzan Kibutsuji’s assault. However, “Water Hashira Giyu Tomioka’s Pain” and its emphasis on raw grief proves that Tanjiro can be just as much of a helpful teacher as he is a dutiful student. After all, as Lady Tamayo says, “only immatures can’t control their emotions.”
“Water Hashira Giyu Tomioka’s Pain” may seem like a muted entry that’s relatively small stakes in nature – a Hashira needs to reckon with his past and learn how to once again pick up his sword – but there’s arguably nothing more important than such a struggle. Tanjiro wouldn’t even be with the Demon Slayer Corps. right now if he didn’t learn how to process his pain and channel it into strength.
It’s a smart way to kick off this season after a very exposition heavy and table-setting premiere that was more interested in laying out this chessboard than actually making its first move. There’s a welcome focus on Tanjiro after he spent most of the season premiere, “To Defeat Muzan Kibutsuji,” in recovery mode. That being said, his mission in this episode has less to do with his improving upon his Hashira skills, but rather his ability to help a fellow Demon Slayer get their groove back and reawaken their killer instinct.
Giyu Tomioka is a natural loner, but this is a time where the Hashira need to band together and work as a singular tool of destruction. “Water Hashira Giyu Tomioka’s Pain” deconstructs the idea of how to make someone who wants to be left alone feel supported and loved. It’s determined that Tanjiro is the ideal person for this tall task, but he approaches this mission with extreme caution and respect.
It’s clear that Tanjiro carries incredible admiration towards Giyu and doesn’t want him to regress or unintentionally push him to an even worse place. “Water Hashira Giyu Tomioka’s Pain” gets a lot of mileage out of Tanjiro and Giyu’s contrasting personalities, right down to the simplified and comical expression that’s painted across Tanjiro’s face for most of the episode’s first act as he pesters Giyu. It’s a fun visual gag in what’s otherwise a very dark and dreary Demon Slayer episode.
The contrast between these two characters becomes even more striking when Giyu dons the same blissed out look, alongside Tanjiro, by the episode’s end. They gleefully enjoy soba together, as friends, and their unity means considerably more after seeing how distant they were when the episode begins. Giyu no longer feels alone, but he also gains a genuine companion who helps him heal his wounds.
There’s also some welcome symmetry to how Tanjiro’s intrusive behavior makes Giyu feel like he’s being haunted by a spectre, all before the audience learns that he is in fact encumbered by a heavy past that he carries with him at all times, unable to shake off. The unwanted attention that Tanjiro heaps on Giyu mirrors his painful memories of Sabito.
Demon Slayer loves to indulge in sad backstories – particularly with the circumstances that surround its Demons – and it’s become one of the anime’s most signature elements. Demon Slayer has worked hard to make sure that these unexpected emotional avalanches don’t begin to feel like a parody of themselves, even if it’s gotten quite close to this point. There’s a definite balance to these types of stories and they run the risk of losing their impact when they’re so plentifully indulged upon. Demon Slayer creates even higher stakes for these painful backstories when they correspond to a main character and have irrevocably changed their trajectory.