Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Nezuko wanted to go to town herself, to give her big brother a rest for once and just enjoy being with his family. She’d seen his sad smile when he’d come home late these winter nights from selling charcoal to see his siblings already asleep. His job separated him from spending time with them. To ease his stressed mind and tired body, she could do this so he didn’t feel alone in this responsibility.

She’d never say it so bluntly however, she needed to convey the message that just because father died and you’re the eldest child, doesn’t mean you have to work yourself into the ground trying to replace him.

And that extra food for new year’s is wonderful but the family valued having him around and his wellbeing more.

If she started offering to do the extra jobs he assigned himself, he might rethink how important they are, or even better, let her share his responsibilities.

Tanjiro could be stubborn in his kindness but listened to others. So, while he would not ask for help, if she insisted, he would accept it.

Mother raised a family of kind children so he needs to be reminded to accept kindness as much as he gives it.

She’d be taking that charcoal basket, even if she had to pry it from his stubborn hands herself.

It was a little past sunset, the days short this far into winter, as Nezuko traipsed out of town with an empty basket, sooty clothes, and a feeling of accomplishment. She’d sold all the charcoal, chatted with the townsfolk she hadn’t seen for a while, completed a few odd jobs, and picked up a few items for her family. As the remaining light faded, Saburo came out of his house to meet her as she passed by. He wouldn’t allow her to go up the mountain at this hour.

Even in the fading light, she thought she could make it up the mountain before it got too cold and dark.

Saburo was hearing none of it.

His stubbornness was borne from concern, the man was protective of the Kamado family after losing his own. With a sigh, she followed him inside, the warmth of his house instantly making the prospect of her trek home after the long day less enticing. She'd hurry back in the morning.

She took note to have her family visit him during the new year’s period to show their appreciation. After they shared dinner and got ready to sleep, he told her tales of man-eating demons who lurked in the dark and the legendary slayers who fought them.

It sounded like a good story until she realized he was dead serious in his account.

“If these demons do prowl the land,” she asked, “Wouldn’t everyone constantly live in fear?”

“Many never know of or encounter them and live in blissful obliviousness. Good for peace of mind but not safety. Others let their fear overwhelm them until it takes over their life. The best balance is to be cautious and rationalise your fear, do what you can and find security in that.”

Nezuko couldn’t say that made her feel better. She thought about what he said as she laid out the futon given to her under the warm glow of his hanging light. If both inside and outside were equally unsafe, did people feel safer in groups in the hope the demons wouldn’t come for them? Like a flock of birds hoping others will be the unlucky prey if a predator strikes? I wonder if even the Demon Slayers feel safe. Dismissing these thoughts, she settled in for the night, listening to the sounds of the forest as Saburo extinguished the light.

Roused by faint rustling, Kie sat up on her futon to see her eldest idly stoking the brazier with the fire chopsticks while glancing occasionally at the front door. He hadn’t changed into his night clothes yet. She let out a sigh.

“Tanjiro, it’s getting late, Nezuko likely decided to stay with Saburo overnight. She has a level head; she wouldn’t risk the hike up here in the dark with all this snow.”

“I know, Nezuko is smart and strong and I shouldn’t worry but I know she only decided to go out today because of me.”

She shuffled closer to him and wrapped him in a hug.

“Is that a bad thing? She’s your sister – and the second eldest – she wants to help you out. You have been overworking yourself lately, let everyone else help too. If you’re still worried in the morning, you can go down the mountain yourself to meet her as she comes up.”

“Okay, okay I-“ he stiffened in her hold, sniffing intently and turning away from her. “There’s something out there, a little way from here, and I’ve never smelt anything like it. It’s bad, really bad.” Although far away, the overbearing stench of gunpowder mixed with poison berries, the metallic tang of blood tainted with rot, and many other scents conveying the feeling of danger and wrongness. The only reason he knew this smell came from a living thing was the boiling yet glacial anger which rolled off it in waves. “Wake everyone, just in case. I’m getting the axe.” Kie’s expression hardened as she quietly gathered her children to the back of the main room.

The odour only got stronger.

Tanjiro returned to the room, axe in hand, and carefully made his way over to hide beside the door.

The crunching of snow underfoot became louder as whatever it was approached their house. Until the footsteps stopped. The rushing of his heartbeat in his ears pounded with a staccato pace. The world came to a standstill sans the wind whistling through the trees.

It was right there.

By now the whole family could feel a menacing presence outside their door. With a jolt, one of the outside wooden doors was broken loose, falling into the snow with a thud. A faint humanoid outline was visible through the shoji doors. Kie signalled for her children to be quiet as the younger ones trembled in fear.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” They all froze in place and the silence pressed in on them. Though the sentence was spoken in a polite tone, the air thrummed with a threatening ambience. “Unfortunately for you, I don’t need an invitation.” The children screamed as the thing ripped the shoji door out of its frame and hurled it into the night.

It wore an expensive foreign suit and hat, though a passing glance at its face revealed this thing wasn’t human. Glowing red slitted eyes honed in on the mother shielding her children behind her.

Placing his whole body behind the swing, the thing set a single foot across the threshold before Tanjiro’s axe cut shallowly into its neck. A small line of blood was the only sign his blow had ever connected as he stepped back to prepare another strike. He gasped in shock as the axe head shattered, leaving him brandishing the handle in defence.

The creature took another step inside.

“You do look a lot like him… Distant relative perhaps? I had thought I’d eradicated his bloodline centuries ago.”

With speed beyond his perception, it punched him in the gut, hearing and feeling his ribs come loose and coughing up blood. He was then thrown to the side hard enough that his leg broke on impact, the resounding crack met with his family screaming his name. His vision blurred and darkened; he couldn’t sit up let alone help them anymore.

From his place on the floor, he heard more screaming and his mother telling all of them to run. She ran at the thing, and with a cry, pierced each of its eyes with the fire chopsticks. She must have hidden them in her skirts he thought vaguely. For a brief moment, he thought they had a chance at escaping, the thing blinded, his mother and siblings fleeing towards the back.

The futility of their situation returned full force as it picked the chopsticks from its eyes distastefully, tendrils of darkness appearing around its silhouette.

“This is getting tedious.”

In a blink, all those running were cut to pieces by the whipping coils, the finality of the stillness blurring the last vestiges of his sight with tears.

Not one of them had made it to the door.

“Up,” it commanded, pulling Tanjiro up by his hair into a sitting position, “I know you’re not dead, yet.”

Tanjiro’s awareness came back to him in an all-encompassing burst of pain. He glared at the thing sitting opposite him, his breathing hitching painfully with his displaced ribs.

Time stood still in the aftermath of his life. His family, those he did everything he did for, were gone. From what he could gather from his injuries, he’d be gone soon too. All that remained was the cheery fire and the devil eyeing him with detached interest.

Tanjiro couldn’t help but look over to where his family lay, and was blanketed in guilt and suffering. I’m sorry father, I couldn’t save them, I’ve failed everyone. Following his gaze, the being looked on with indifference.

“I gave each of them a chance to live you know,” it said conversationally. “If any of them were truly remarkable, they would have survived. So, nothing of value was lost - except my time and blood - both precious commodities wasted on them. I did them a favour really, returning them to the nothingness from which they came.” The fire gave a light crackle.

“While I never watch what I say, there’s something truly freeing about talking to a dying man. You can honestly say anything. Some rush to say everything they can to the soon deceased, but why waste the time as it won’t matter anyway.” Some snow slid off the roof, landing with a gentle thump.

Then why is it still talking to me?

“Like that man, you’re dying having neither saved your family or achieved anything with your trivial existence. His legacy meant nothing but a few generations of filthy, simple, mountainfolk.”

Tanjiro remained where he sat, scowling.

“You don’t seem scared of me? No begging, bargaining, attempting to fight or escape?”

“There’s nothing more for me to fear losing and it’s clear you possess no shred of morality.” His mind went to Nezuko; though he originally worried about her trip through the snow alone, he was beyond relieved that one of his loved ones would be spared. Every part of himself he could still feel hurt immensely, but the thought of her survival gave him solace in his final moments. Let’s see if I can get this thing to stop toying with me and just end this. The sooner it leaves, the safer she’ll be.

“I smelt fear on you when you first saw me,” Tanjiro said, staring calmly into its sinister gaze, “I think ‘that man’s legacy’ lives on in you, regardless of who you kill.”

Instantly the monster was before him, blood vessels pulsing angrily as it dug a clawed hand into his face with a death grip. Blood poured down his cheeks. Tanjiro’s expression remained unchanged. That seemed to do the trick.

Those glowing red eyes bored into his soul.

“You said there’s nothing left for you to fear losing. You’re wrong. I can take your prized humanity too.”

Tanjiro’s eyes widened at that as the wounds on his face began to burn.

“A demon wearing a similar face and those accursed earrings is a fine way to desecrate the last traces of his pathetic life. You’ll likely have the highest chance of being useful to me. I’ll even leave your family here for you to devour once you turn; I do have a shred of kindness after all.”

With that, the man stood up and walked to the entrance.

“Enjoy your meal.”

He tipped his hat, slid the remaining door shut and disappeared into the night.

Breathing caused excruciating pain. Not the stabbing of the mosaic of ribs and innards destroyed in his chest, now the agony scorched through him. It blazed through his muscles, his limbs twitching, eyes rolling. It charred his bones. He could feel them snapping and, in his delirium, he wasn’t sure if they were snapping together or apart.

He was becoming like the thing that killed his family, a demon.

Nezuko would be in danger, from him. Though he didn’t want to die, he had come to accept that inevitability. Hurting or killing Nezuko was however unacceptable. He didn’t know how to kill that monster, and therefore himself now, so he became determined to hinder himself from attacking her when she came back. And any other humans he would come across.

He’d said he had nothing left to lose but if he lost himself, he could lose Nezuko too.

Get up. Get up! My life is forfeit but I’ll walk through hell if it means I can save her!

He unsteadily got to his feet, more disturbed than relieved to find his leg now healed. He hobbled out the front door, the other’s scent long gone.

With his newly-formed talons for fingernails, He scratched a message into the remaining wooden door.

Nezuko run

Do not enter and leave immediately

I love you

He involuntarily scratched deep gouges down the wood as he was wracked by a debilitating wave of pain. Closing the door, He stumbled towards the charcoal oven, hoping the smell would mask that of his family, the overbearing smell of their blood gradually becoming intoxicating instead of nauseating. His strength returning as his awareness faded scared him- he didn't have much time. Grabbing an unburnt wood offcut, he forced it between his sharpening teeth and bit down to embed them for good measure. He tied his scarf around his face to block out as much of the world as he could.

The burning inside him had stopped, leaving a chasm yearning to be filled. Collapsing to the floor, he dug his claws along the ground, curling in on himself wishing demons didn’t exist, including himself.

Chapter Text

Thanking Saburo for his hospitality, Nezuko began her trek up the mountain. Occasional gusts of strong wind bracketed the winding path and accompanied by the deep snow, made her journey slower than she’d like to admit. The heavy cloud cover also made it difficult to tell how long she had been walking.

Eventually, her home came into view and she smiled at the thought of giving her family all the small items the townsfolk gave to her. When she tried paying, they’d say it was paying back a favour from Tanjiro, so she accepted it where she knew he would not. Her smile turned to confusion as she noticed the lack of sound from the house, no siblings rushing to meet her. It was late enough that they all should be awake and amidst their chores, so the eerie calm unsettled her.

“I’m home!” she called, and after a long wait, received no response. Did they all go off to the stream? Hopefully Tanjiro hadn’t recruited the others to form a search party for her. Approaching the house, she noticed a shoji door half covered in snow, a wooden one not far from it. The wind wasn’t that strong last night. Did they all go to gather supplies to fix this?

What’s going on?

Finally, she saw scratch marks on the outer door as she neared it. Reaching to slide it open, she dropped her basket and froze upon seeing the scratches were actually scrawled words. The message and silence from inside pressed in on her, demanding she open the door. Her need to know warring with the horripilation assuring her no good would come from finding out.

Who wrote this? Why? What is inside? What happened?!

She couldn’t help it; she had to know.

Steeling herself for anything, she went to gently open the door-

“You should heed that warning.” Said a calm voice from right behind her.

She shrieked as she spun around, aiming a wheel kick at whoever snuck up on her.

Her calf was caught gently yet firmly, leaving her to awkwardly hop around to face a young man in a two-patterned haori.

“Nezuko, I presume?”

“Eh?!” She blurted, still recovering from her shock. He released her leg and she backed away from him. “Who are you and what are you doing here?” She eyed him suspiciously, noticing a sword at his hip.

“Tomioka Giyu, and I’m a Demon Slayer. My current mission is to investigate rumours of a demon travelling through these parts. The trail I’ve been following led here.”

Nezuko continued to stare at him stunned.

“Huh?!” After listening to Saburo’s stories, meeting this man felt like encountering a character from a storybook. While he appeared to mean her no harm, his presence filled her with dread. “Are you saying there’s a demon inside? What about my family?” Giyu looked at her with an unchanging passive expression, though a hint of pity shone through.

“Allow me to enter first.” Without waiting for a reply, he soundlessly breezed by her and slid the door open slowly, Nezuko peering over his shoulder.

After reading the message, she thought she was braced for what would be beyond the door. Not for this. Never for this.

An inhuman scream of loss and anger, punctuated with sobs, poured out from her. Her family lay butchered in their own home.

“Don’t look, you don’t need to see this. I’ll handle it.” Nezuko had collapsed onto her knees and Giyu effortlessly picked her up and placed her facing away from the house. Drawing his sword, he investigated the house but found no demon. He was too late- left only to clean up the aftermath. He’d put them respectfully to rest as the only apology he could give them. Additionally, he didn’t want to subject the girl to playing the most twisted game of full-body Fukuwarai.

He set about the gruesome task of sorting and separating the pieces, laying them gently outside the house onto sheets he’d found.

Her glazed eyes gazed sightlessly at the pure snow. Whenever she blinked, the horrid image of blood splattered everywhere, body parts scattered, and unseeing eyes flashed before her. They weren’t just killed and eaten, they were mutilated and tossed about like trash. This is what demons do? She didn’t know how long she sat there before she felt a hand on her shoulder.

“I’ve prepared your family, where would you like the graves?” Shakily getting to her feet, she turned and looked forlornly at the five bundles of fabric holding her family. Five. She spun to Giyu, desperate.

“There were only five people inside?”

“Yes, a woman and four children.”

“I have five siblings,” she said in a hushed whisper, racing over to the bodies. “Someone had to have survived, one of them had to! Who else would have written the message?!” She’d forgotten that last detail in her shock.

Carefully pulling back a cloth, she saw Takeo’s face, bloodied and set in his terror-filled final moment. Tears flooding her eyes, she went to the next bundle. Hanako, expression equally frightened was next to him. Shigeru was next to her. Nezuko checked the remains which were clearly her mother and Rokuta, just to be sure.

“Tanjiro isn’t here! He must’ve got away and could be injured somewhere! He has a green and black checkered haori, reddish hair and is a little older than me. We need to find him!” Ignoring the swordsman’s warnings about demons being nearby, she ran around the tree line, shouting for her brother. The snowfall had hidden any footprints, so she didn’t know which direction to search.

“Tanjiro!” she frantically called. She’d scour their whole mountain if she had to knowing there was the possibility that her brother was still alive. A faint scratching sound from the charcoal burner caught her attention.

Rushing to the hut with the wood oven, she barely stuck her head in before spotting him- it wasn’t a large space after all. There he was, curled up in blood-stained clothes, scarf tied around his head, scratches encircling the clay walls around him. Most importantly, he was trembling, he was alive.

“Tanjiro! What happened!? Who did this to you?” she said, starting to unwrap his face. Was the demon saving him for later? Hearing the scraping sound from earlier, Nezuko looked down to see it coming from Tanjiro dragging his sharp nails across the floor. What? Pulling the scarf off, her shocked eyes met with his piercingly red slitted ones.

She scuttled backwards away from him in fright. He in turn curled up tighter with his hands covering his face. Was that a chunk of wood in his mouth? He shrunk in on himself, literally. What!?

“He did that to himself.” Giyu stated, causing her to again let out a shrill tone as she twisted around. He needs to stop sneaking up on me like that! The tumultuous multitude of emotions caused by this morning’s events – confusion, horror, shock, despair, hope, and now fear – were giving her whiplash. “He must have realised what he was becoming.”

He drew his blade, looking completely unsurprised by the scene before him. Anger welled within her.

“You knew!?” Giyu didn’t meet her glare, standing his ground somewhat awkwardly.

“I had my suspicions the writer of that message turned into a demon, with the scratch marks and you saying someone was missing. It needs to be dispatched so I didn’t want to get your hopes up.” Nezuko put herself between the man and Tanjiro.

“No. No way. You don’t get to just come here and say ‘I’m sorry for your loss’ as you kill my last remaining family!”

“I never said that.”

“That just makes it worse!”

“…I’m sorry for your loss?”

“Rrrrgh!”

Giyu tried another approach.

“Demons mindlessly devour humans; it would best respect his memory by killing the thing wearing his face. Save him from an eternity of murder; a fate worse than death.”

“But he’s controlling himself! He did all this to keep me safe!” she said, gesturing to him. “I don’t know how he’s a demon now but it’s clear he didn’t kill our family! Look at him! He’s not threatening at all!” Tanjiro removed his arms from his face but kept his distance.

“It’s wearing the face of a child to garner your sympathy.”

“He could have the face of a Furaribi for all I care! His actions speak for themselves! It’s not his fault this happened to him and he hasn’t done anything wrong. There must be a cure or blessing, or some type of treatment that can restore his humanity…Something!” Her voice kept increasing in pitch from her desperation.

“Sunlight will cleanse it of its taint.”

“That will kill him won’t it,” she responded in a deadpan tone, now examining the characters for ‘destroyer of demons’ on his sword. Subtle.

Giyu was growing tired of this pointless conversation, he could kill it at any time although he wanted her to understand why. Admittedly, he was also intrigued that the small demon hadn’t tried anything with the girl’s back turned.

“Face reality!” he yelled, “Once the blood of a high rank demon transforms a human, there is no going back! They lose themselves, their memories, they’ll kill anyone in their path! In the centuries of demons’ existence, no signs of a cure have been found. There’s no hope for this thing except to execute it before it kills others.” This only appeared to spur Nezuko on further.

“I’m not giving up on him! If I have to become a Demon Slayer myself to confront the demon who did this to him and make it reverse this, then so be it. I’ll do it. If it takes me years, decades, I will keep going, I will get stronger, because he’s my brother and he spent his whole life helping others right to the end. He knows I’ll do the same.” Giyu studied the shocked expression of the demon boy at her words. It looked scared and worried on her behalf. His and the demon’s eyes met. He might have more success appealing to it at this rate, it seemed to understand what they were saying.

“Tanjiro,” The demon startled at his name being said by the Demon Slayer. “I will make it quick and painless. I will send your sister to a place where she will be cared for and treated well, where she can put all this behind her, you have my word.” Tanjiro considered his words, then rose unsteadily, clothes loose around him, and started to slowly amble towards Giyu. Nezuko’s eyes widened in fear.

“Listen!” she shouted. Tanjiro turned to face her.

“If you die, I’m going to become a Demon Slayer anyway, to spare others this pain. I know you’ve always wanted to do what’s best for me. You think freeing me from the danger and burden of you is for the best, but you’re all I have left. What I want most in the world is to not lose you too. It may be selfish of me as I don’t know how hard it is for you to be a demon, but I need you, big brother. Let’s help each other through this, together.” Tears streamed down his small face as he ran towards her, growing to his normal height right before he encased her in his arms. They clutched at each other, crying in their shared grief and tentative hope for the future.

Giyu did nothing to interfere, concluding that he believed in the resolve of both of them. He’d give them this chance to be different. Maybe then things would finally change. He sheathed his sword, the metallic zing drawing their attention.

“There’s still the matter of burying your family.” The pair nodded and followed after him hand in hand.

They walked back to the front of the house quietly, recovering from finding her brother alive, the revelation of his demonic nature, his almost execution, and having him spared, for now.

She had the chance to save one of them, but first she had to say goodbye to the rest.

As they approached the bodies, Tanjiro grunted and hunched over, clutching his stomach as his face contorted in discomfort.

“Tanjiro! Are you okay? There’s all that blood…I should check you for injuries.” He shook his head and backed away for a moment, taking measured breaths to work through the pangs.

“There’s no need. Demons have advanced healing capabilities, any wounds he sustained before he turned will be gone now.” Since much of his hair had escaped his ponytail, Nezuko hadn’t had a clear view of Tanjiro’s forehead. Upon inspection, she noticed his burn scar, a facial feature she couldn’t remember him without, was gone. She couldn’t help but feel that his demonic transformation had robbed him of another part of his identity. “His reaction is due to the human flesh and blood.” Tanjiro turned away from them with a look of utter self-loathing.

Giving his hand a reassuring squeeze, Nezuko led him over to where their father lay and they started clearing the surrounding area of snow.

They began to dig, Tanjiro handing Nezuko the shovel Giyu retrieved while he made quick work of the frozen ground with his clawed hands. Giyu broke up the ground with their hoe.

When it was time to lay their family to rest, Tanjiro backed away and wouldn't approach as Giyu and Nezuko went to retrieve the bodies. Lifting together, they carefully lowered them into each hole. Tanjiro watched on stiffly, saliva escaping past his improvised muzzle, wearing a heartbreaking expression of both grief and absolute disgust at himself.

Nezuko pretended not to notice his reaction; it wasn't his fault.

Only once they'd completed the burial did he approach. She saw a drop of blood land on the soil and followed its path up to see him clenching his fists.

"Tanjiro, you're hurting yourself." She held his hands up for him to see. He hadn't seemed to have felt it and relaxed his fingers. Torn skin where his sharp nails had punctured his palms healed before their eyes. He wiped the blood off in the snow.

Giyu absentmindedly brushed dirt off his haori as he looked to the horizon.

"If you are certain you want to become a Demon Slayer, head to Mount Sagiri," he said, pointing towards another mountain in the distance. "Find Urokodaki; tell him Tomioka sent you."

Nezuko nodded as she looked out to the faraway landscape, a familiar view yet completely unknown land. While she loved her mountain home, the house would never feel the same and she refused to live here leading a normal life if Tanjiro couldn't do so too.

Giyu then addressed Tanjiro.

“Wear that muzzle for now, we’re not certain of your control. You’re still a newly-turned demon who hasn’t eaten and you were injured before you transformed. Try to pass as human and above all else never harm one. Everyone will treat you as an enemy if they know the truth about you."

Taking a step back, he turned away from them.

“This path you want to take, can and will likely lead to your deaths. Or even more unforgivably the deaths of others. Tanjiro’s actions and their consequences will be your responsibility Nezuko."

"I'll leave you two to prepare for your journey, the clouds will clear soon so keep Tanjiro out of the sunlight."

"Wait." Giyu froze at the sound of a voice he'd never heard before. It was cracked and raspy in its tiredness yet determination and kindness shone through.

“Thank you for everything. For doing what you could for us. For helping Nezuko when I couldn’t.” Replacing his muzzle, the demon boy - Tanjiro - bowed to him.

"It's yet to be decided if I should be thanked or forsaken for this."

On that sombre note, he vanished, leaving the siblings standing there in a stupor.

Chapter Text

With the clouds retreating, the clear blue sky allowed the weak winter sunlight to glitter on the snow. A beautiful sight if Tanjiro didn't feel the overwhelming fear the warm light beams evoked in him.

Maybe he could cross the burning plane with adequate shade, however, the mere thought made him shudder.

Their journey would be slower if they could only travel at night. At least Tanjiro would be able to help her then.

For that's when the monsters like him come out.

After washing as much blood off himself and his clothes, he stayed in the house and gathered supplies for their journey.

Grabbing the charcoal basket she'd abandoned by the door, Nezuko retrieved and placed all the things she's brought back for her family on a shelf like a shrine.

Writing materials for Hanako, a new book for Shigeru, a specialty tea blend for her mother, a daruma for Takeo, a warm hat for Rokuta. And for Tanjiro, a wavy white hair clip in the shape of a flame. Because he was growing his hair out long, like their father's, his fringe kept coming loose of his ponytail. This would help him keep his hair out of his face as he worked.

She grabbed it now, and as she found Tanjiro collecting items by the door, clicked it in place above where his scar used to be. It suited him and uncovered his face; that muzzle was bad enough for denying the world Tanjiro’s smiles. She smirked at his surprise.

"Of course I got a present for you too silly." And there was his happy expression, one she'd always strove to create, made even more precious now. Packing the small amount of items they decided to bring into the basket, she then had to focus on the biggest problem: how to safely travel with her brother under the sun.

They both stared out at the sunshine outside, one in contemplation, the other in fear. Nezuko finally had an idea.

"Maybe if you got small like earlier, I could pack you in the basket too?” Wearing Tanjiro’s signature look of determination, she watched in awe as he shrunk down to the size of a toddler. Though they both knew he could do it, they were astounded anyway. "That's amazing! I'm sure this ability could come in handy in other ways too!" Tanjiro looked subtlety pleased to be of help.

Luckily, he didn't resemble her other siblings, a Rokuta-sized Tanjiro didn't sadden her as much as she thought it might. She picked him up and inspected him, his clothes puddling around him. "It's not just a visual illusion; you really are smaller, and lighter too." Bundling up the trailing fabric, she tucked him into the sooty basket and gave it an experimental lift. "About the same weight as the charcoal," she concluded aloud, filling the silence with a one-sided conversation.

Putting the basket down, she grabbed the lid. It felt somewhat belittling to put her older brother in the dark for hours, but they needed to get some distance from their home before sundown. In case the demon came back.

"I'm sorry it has to be this way. I'll let you out as soon as the sun's set." With his resigned affirmation, she fastened the lid and swathed the container in a sheet. “I’ll start walking in the direction Giyu pointed and ask for directions as we go." He gave a muffled grunt in response as she hoisted the basket on her back. Feeling defenceless going out into the world without a weapon, she tucked the largest knife they owned into her obi. The world had felt like a much safer place just yesterday. She descended the mountain with the sense this would be the last time she’d see it in a long time.

Not wanting to confront any of the townsfolk, she snuck through the outskirts of the town as she departed. Leaving everyone and everything they knew behind without a goodbye was strange but necessary; their current situation wasn't readily explainable or believable.

Unlike yesterday, the weight of the basket didn't decrease as the day progressed with charcoal sales. The weight stayed the same if not grew heavier as the hours trickled by. She had to stop for a break earlier than she wanted, breaths a painful wheeze in the dry frosty air and legs and arms as solid as overcooked noodles.

They took shelter from the mid-afternoon sun near a shaded stream not far off the path out of town. As Nezuko rehydrated and ate some of the limited food supply, Tanjiro popped his head out from the basket to survey their surroundings. Nezuko had to remind herself that he was mentally 13 when confronted with what looked like a cute, inquisitive toddler. She’d asked if he wanted to take off the muzzle since it was only the two of them, yet he seemed quite adamant in wearing it. So now, she was stuck with what looked to be a muzzled infant in a basket.

Ferocious.

Their lives were going to be so weird and different from now on yet she’s happier to focus on that and nothing else.

Not much longer and I can let Tanjiro out to walk beside me, she thought to herself. Mainly for the company, not because he was heavy. But he was heavy. Newly invigorated, she repacked the basket and set off along the road, passing countless rice paddies, fields, and houses as the afternoon sun tapered off. It shocked her how they left the snow behind; their new surroundings were quite green for this time of year. Then again, she knew little of the world beyond her village and what to expect.

Beyond checking with others that she was still heading in the correct direction, time and her surroundings blurred in the tired repetition of one foot in front of the other. With the winter days being shorter and the sun setting earlier, she didn’t walk much further before gratefully releasing Tanjiro of his confines. Once out, he returned to his regular size, a sight Nezuko didn’t think she’d ever get used to.

After a quick stretch, they continued along the path in the fading light, Tanjiro carrying the basket this time.

The forest was quite dark, the moonlight failing to penetrate through the dense canopy. Tanjiro could still see the path so he led them between the trees. They travelled in silence, the crunch of dirt and fallen leaves beneath their zori and the soft rustle of leaves creating a peaceful ambience. Whenever Nezuko heard movement in their surroundings, she couldn’t help imagining dreadful things were stalking them in the shadows. She was beyond grateful to have Tanjiro by her side. As the night progressed, her constant unease remained though she didn’t react as much to the activity of woodland creatures around her.

Letting her mind wander, she didn’t notice when Tanjiro abruptly halted in front of her, walking into the basket.

“Tanjiro?” In response, he pointed to his nose, then to a blood stain he couldn’t quite wash out of his clothes. “You smell blood?” He nodded, taking her hand and running along the path.

They reached a clearing which held a small temple with its lanterns still lit. The sight would’ve been welcoming if not for Tanjiro’s earlier observation. Running up the stone steps and across the courtyard, the scent of blood only got stronger so Tanjiro pulled ahead to open the door first.

He was hit with a wall of aroma, freezing him to the spot. The door must have blocked most of it and now the festering air was unleashed.

His mind clouded over with nothing but the scent of blood. Saliva overflowing past his muzzle.

Tanjiro? What's wrong-” She'd caught up to him and peering around him, her heart stuttered at a sight similar to that of this morning. Bodies butchered, blood staining the walls, though this time, the demon was still here.

A demon? Demons again? Just how many are there!?

“This is my territory small fries, interfere with my prey and you pay.” The demon licked blood from his clawed hands, dropping a limb it’d been consuming. Nezuko was stiff from fear and disgust, unable to look away from the gruesome sight before her. Tanjiro was fighting an internal battle, disgusted with himself for finding the scene at all appetising and struggling to ignore and blood and bodies at his feet.

Hands shaking, Nezuko retrieved the knife from her obi, the action hidden from the demon’s sight. Taking a step, she honestly wasn’t sure if it was towards or away from the thing, it didn’t matter as faster than she could react, the demon tackled her out of the temple.

She screamed and stabbed it in the throat, scrambling away from it in its distraction. Jagged teeth grinned back at her as it pulled the blade from its neck with as if it were a splinter, flinging it aside with a spray of blood. The wound closed before her eyes just like Tanjiro’s had.

“A knife? Really? Wretched scum attacking a fellow demon for no reason! Are you the traitor Tamayo?!” As it ranted, she dove for the knife; it didn’t seem to care. “Wait a moment- you're a human! But he's a demon! Wha-“

His confused ramblings were cut off as Nezuko flung the knife into its nose. Sadly, it had as much of an effect as her last attack.

“You got guts kid,” it said, dropping the knife and wiping blood from its face, “I look forward to seeing them.” In a burst of speed, it grabbed and pinned her to the ground. She screamed again as its claws dug into her shoulders and its sharp teeth hovered above her face.

At the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps, the demon looked up in time to be side-tackled off of Nezuko, it and Tanjiro tumbling away across the temple grounds.

He was ashamed at how long he took to overcome his demonic instincts, but protecting Nezuko was his highest priority from now on.

The two demons grappled, giving him time to take in its appearance. Unlike himself and the one that attacked his family, this one actually looked more like what he thought demons would. It snarled at him and in retaliation, Tanjiro headbutted it, and to his utmost surprise and horror, its head flew clean off. With a muffled yelp, he threw the headless body aside in shock and staggered to his feet.

Nezuko ran to his side, brandishing the knife once more, and stared at the body.

“Is it dead?” The headless body moved as if to answer her question. How were they going to stop it?!

As Tanjiro engaged with the body, Nezuko spun around at growling coming from behind her. The head, the severed head, now possessing arms spawned from its sides, scrambled towards her. She swung the blade at it, but its hair then grew and wrapped around her leg. She began stamping the head into the ground in fright.

“Let go!"

It looked like the demon was regretting this choice.

After many kicks to the head, the thing appeared concussed and taking the opportunity, she freed her leg and deftly tied its arms together and it to a tree. She had just as much skill knotting hair as she did detangling it. What was likely muffled cursing could be heard through the hair blocking its mouth.

Looking over to her brother, she saw he was covered in scratches, clothes torn in a few places, and struggling to get to his feet. Even without a head, the body was still a dangerous foe.

Tanjiro wasn't used to his demon abilities let alone fighting, so he couldn't keep up with and counter its movements. While he blocked and delivered some blows, with its greater speed and experience it was gaining the upper hand. He got up, only to be grabbed by the haori and thrown into the forest. Tumbling through the undergrowth and luckily missing trees, he dug his claws into the ground to lose speed, stopping at the edge of a sheer cliff. Dizzy from the throw, his vision cleared to find the body above him.

Preparing for another fight, the body was instead sent over the cliff by a swift kick from Nezuko. He rushed to grab her in case her momentum would make her follow. They heard an awful splat as the thing landed below and held each other until their breathing evened out.

“Now is it dead?” she asked, even though she knew neither of them had the answer. He shrugged and gestured back to the temple; they’d go check on the head.

To their dismay, the head was still squirming, somehow still alive after everything. She still had her knife in a white-knuckled grip, but after stabbing it twice already, what was the point of a third go? She stood there thinking, when a hand rested on her shoulder. Thinking it was Tanjiro, she jolted seeing a man with a tengu mask right behind her. She hadn’t heard him approach.

“You can’t finish him off with that,” he said.

“I know,” she responded, trying to keep the frustration from her voice. “I’ve stabbed it, stomped on it, sent its body off a cliff. I don’t think I have a suitable weapon to do the job.” While she was quick to anger in her helplessness, the prospect of an endless battle with an unkillable monster filled her with fear. Then she thought back to what Tomioka had said earlier.

“Then how will you finish it off?”

“I won’t. The head is stuck here and the sun will rise soon- I just have to wait.”

“And what about the demon behind you?”

“Right!” she then turned to Tanjiro, “Could you guard the head? I’ll go get our things.” He nodded and she went back to the temple to collect the basket and say a quick prayer for the people inside. Hurrying back to the others, she was greeted with the masked old man restraining her brother in a neck hold.

She gritted her teeth in anger. Surely her brother could break the hold, yet he likely didn’t try in case he hurt the man. Another instance where Tanjiro’s compassion was exploited.

“Let him go!” she shouted. The man didn’t move.

“This is also a demon, why is this one to be spared and not the other?”

“That’s my brother Tanjiro and-“

“What will you do if he devours a human?” The question itself angered her further.

“Tanjiro is what I have to live for, and die for too! I won’t allow for him to ever kill someone. Not only would he never do that, but if he tried, I’d know my brother is truly gone and finish him myself.” Her eyes turned sad. “So much has already been taken from him, I won’t let him lose himself too. That’d kill us both.”

Tanjiro rapidly shrunk his size to squeeze out of the man’s grasp and ran over to comfort Nezuko, growing to full height along to way. Hugging his sister, he looked over at the man, unsure what to make of him.

“I’m Sakonji Urokodaki, and you two must be the ones Giyu Tomioka sent my way.”

“Yes! I am Nezuko Kamado and this is my brother Tanjiro.”

“Nezuko, I will test you to see if you are fit to join the Demon Slayer Corps. But first, let us bury the dead.”

“Of course.” She couldn’t help thinking about Tomioka helping her bury her family that morning and wondered how often Demon Slayers only arrived in time to find so many lives already lost. Looking over to the wiggling cocoon of knotted hair, she found comfort in knowing she’d ended the cycle of death this one caused. Taking a deep breath of the chilly air, she followed the man back to the temple, Tanjiro’s hand in hers.

Chapter Text

Urokodaki’s test involved running. The man had outstanding stamina, setting a quick pace and staying just within her sight as he ran between the rice paddies along the road. She’d loosened her kimono to lengthen her strides, but under the basket’s weight and no sleep, she struggled to keep going.

Tanjiro would carry this basket up and down the mountain daily! No matter the weather! Without ever complaining! I will run with it for as long as I must!

She promised to give it her all, to one day, someday, see him smiling at her under the sunlight again.

She ran on, that image strengthening her resolve.

As dusk faded to night, they arrived at a house at the foot of what she assumed to be Mount Sagiri. As Urokodaki stood motionless by the door, she could barely keep herself from keeling over. Coated in sweat and lungs ready to explode out of her chest, she looked up to the man and tried to stand taller.

“Your test starts now; we’re going to climb the mountain.” She hoped her expression didn’t convey how much those words made her want to curl into a ball. Or scream. Or both. “Leave your brother here, I’ll take care of him.” Silver linings.

Entering the house, she unwrapped the basket to find Tanjiro fast asleep. He must’ve been exhausted from the fight to have slept through that run. Placing him on a futon Urokodaki set out, he looked so fragile, in his toddler form. Encasing him in a blanket, she spared him a glance before following Urokodaki out and up the mountain.

They walked, thankfully. Shakily inhaling the thin mountain air, she followed him, one clumsy, heavy footfall after another. She worried about what his test would be, unable to imagine doing much more than rolling back down the mountain at this point.

The cold, misty surroundings kept her alert, so when Urokodaki turned to face her, she stood up in attention.

“Make your way back to my house at the foot of the mountain. You have until dawn.” With that he vanished into the fog.

After everything she’s gone through in the last few days, how hard could that be?

While the sky had brightened, the sun hadn’t yet risen by the time she stumbled back to the house. Cuts and bruises covered her skin, her hair, though constrained in its usual bun, had accumulated a collection of twigs, dirt and leaves. Her dark brown haori was torn in multiple places to her dismay but at least it had protected her kimono.  Once she’d calmed from her initial panic at the traps, finding and avoiding them became easier. She just had to be patient and take her time instead of rushing through blindly.

Collapsed in the doorframe, she had returned by the time limit, and that’s all that was required for the test.

“Nezuko Kamado, I accept you as my student.”

After a meal and some rest and recovery, Urokodaki showed her around his house and gave her some new clothes to wear for training. Tanjiro hadn’t woken since she arrived back, and was unable to be roused. It would be New Years in a few more days and she was saddened that he might not be awake for it. This would be the first year without watching the Hinokami Kagura from dusk to dawn in the firelight, toasting rice crackers with her siblings. The first year without her family to spend it with.

It was surreal how quickly she could go from being focused on her future training and goals one minute, then remember how she got here and spiral into grief the next. She has to let it out, let all these emotions out. Not be angry at the world and lament the unfair tragedies of life. Things are the way they are now and she’ll best honour and respect her family by keeping going and making the most life. She’d let herself have these moments to cry though, just couldn’t let it all consume her. She had to move forward and protect the only family she had left.

This new year truly marked the end of one part of her life and beginning of another.

She’d celebrate it for all of them.

Until then, Urokodaki had her descending the mountain daily and getting used to her new home. The real training would start in the new year.

Today was Ōmisoka and Nezuko and Urokodaki spent it cleaning the house and preparing food for the new year’s celebration. While they still barely knew each other, both seemed to find comfort partaking in the traditions together. The day went by quietly, Urokodaki wasn’t one for small talk though Nezuko couldn’t help but fill the silence with explaining how her family celebrated differently.

He even agreed to make rice crackers and eat their toshikoshi soba early, as per her traditions. Her family would eat their noodles around sunset so they could go outside to watch the Hinokami Kagura until the New Year. Or whenever the littler ones would fall asleep.

Even without the Hinokami Kagura this year, following the rest of their traditions felt right.

As the clear sky blossomed into a crisp winter sunset before fading into a cool night, the two ate their long noodles around the brazier. They tasted just like how her mother would make them bringing tears to her eyes. Finishing her bowl, she heard movement in the back room of the house and to her delight, Tanjiro was awake!

Or she thinks he’s awake?

Eyes barely open, he stumbled towards the door, the outside world dark enough for him to safely set out. Picking up a wooden practice sword from a shelf, he seemed to not hear Nezuko’s calls to him and walked out to the clearing in front of the house as if in a trance. Nezuko and Urokodaki followed him.

Tanjiro stood statue like in the middle of the clearing, sword in hand, and assumed the starting pose of the Hinokami Kagura. Her eyes widened in realisation.

He whirled gracefully through the first segment of the kagura, staff flourishes appearing more natural when done with a sword. His form however, started to become obscured by fog or maybe smoke? Nezuko wasn’t sure. Partway through the second segment, patches of his skin started to burn. Nezuko tackled him to the ground.

He was definitely smoking.

Finally, he had awoken, either from the pain or Nezuko knocking him over was unknown. The burning had stopped, yet the angry red scalds left in its place showed no signs of healing. She saw him wince past his muzzle, and clambered off him so he could sit up on the ground. Though he was supposed to dance from dusk until dawn, he was exhausted and defeated before he could complete a full cycle of the kagura.

Urokodaki materialised silently beside them.

“Where did you learn that technique? It is not a sword form I have seen before and it must be powerful if it can scorch a demon merely performing it.”

“It’s our family’s Hinokami Kagura,” Nezuko answered for him, “The twelve segments are repeated in a cyclical dance until the morning of New Years as offering to Hinokami.” She couldn’t stop looking at Tanjiro now that he was awake; he was asleep for a little less than a week, but she had been frightened he wouldn’t wake up again. “Why aren’t the burns healing?” she asked Urokodaki.

“If a demon was burned with fire, any damage would regenerate at their normal speed. When burned with sunlight, the wounds caused take much longer to heal.”

“You’re saying that performing a kagura for Hinokami inflicted sunlight burns on him?”

“It appears so.”

Tanjiro stiffly got to his feet with tears in his eyes unrelated to the pain. If simply performing a small part of the Hinokami Kagura was enough to make him smoulder, he wouldn’t be able to complete his family’s tradition. It was like the god’s judging gaze burned through him as divine punishment for his impudence. Demons were forsaken, banished from the sun, of course one couldn’t praise it. He wondered what would happen if he tried completing the dance. Would Hinokami incinerate him themself? Better not tempt fate further. He morosely thought back to how his father said to become Hinokami; sadly, he wasn’t worthy.

Nezuko hugged him, able to read his expression like always.

“It’s okay. You tried your best. I’m just so grateful you’re awake again. How did you know to wake for New Years?” Tanjiro looked to Urokodaki and slowly removed his muzzle.

“I-“ He coughed, throat dry from disuse. “I think it was the smell of the New Year’s foods. I must have just known what time it was from that.” He sounded so hoarse and tired, yet he smiled at Nezuko, who smiled back in earnest.

He looked up to Urokodaki.

“Thank you for taking in Nezuko as your student. As she is to train to become a Demon Slayer, could you please accept me as your student too?” He bent into a deep bow. Urokodaki scrutinised him silently- with his mask, Tanjiro couldn’t read the man at all.

“For a demon to ask to join the Corps… I have sent word back to the Master of you and your sister’s circumstances, and he has sanctioned your cause. As for this, like your sister I will test to see if you are fit to join the Corps.” Tanjiro’s face lit up at the chance.

“But first, I’d like to talk to the both of you now Tanjiro is awake.” They followed him inside.

Urokodaki gestured for them to sit around the brazier and the two sat comfortably side by side. Tanjiro had replaced his muzzle immediately after he stopped talking to Nezuko’s dismay. Urokodaki sat opposite them.

"While the details are fresh, could you both tell me about the demon attack that resulted in your situation? My past student was too concise in his letter."

"Tomioka was your past student?" Nezuko asked.

"Yes, he came to me for training in a similar way to you two I presume. Now, on to your story." He looked pointedly at Tanjiro. "You too, boy."

Tanjiro hesitated at taking off his muzzle.

"If it was unsafe to remove that even temporarily, Giyu would not have spared you. And rest assured, I can end you just as fast as he could."

While Nezuko looked indignant, Tanjiro gave a slow nod and removed the tied wood from his mouth. He stretched his jaw - inadvertently showing off his fangs - trying to remove its stiffness. The sight of his teeth still shocked her and she tried not to show it.

"Shall we start from the morning of that day?" Tanjiro asked his sister, his speech slightly slurred from disuse and his changed teeth. She nodded and started with the part of that day she knew.

“Our family lived on a mountain, selling charcoal to the nearby town. Our father died last year so it was just our mother and us six children. Tanjiro, being the eldest, would go down the mountain to town each day whilst the rest of us did chores and maintenance around the house. Except for that day… I wanted Tanjiro to take a break, he works so hard for us all the time. So, I convinced him to let me go to town instead. I sold all the charcoal and did some odd jobs, but it got too late to go home so our neighbour Saburo invited me to stay at his place. He mentioned demons coming out at night…” Nezuko looked over to Tanjiro for him to continue.

“The day went normally, until late at night, I smelt something foul approaching the house. It sent out anger and danger so mother woke everyone and took them to the back of the house and I hid near the door with the axe.

“It appeared as a man in foreign clothes, but it clearly wasn't human. It broke in and I swung the axe at it but the blade broke on impact. It punched me hard enough to break my ribs and leg, I was bleeding internally so I was sure I wasn't going to survive. Mother stabbed its eyes with the fire chopsticks and tried to escape with the others, but the thing formed whip-like tendrils from the darkness-” Tanjiro halted in his recount, his throat closing up with emotion. In one moment, their family had been torn apart.

“They didn't make it. The thing then stayed and talked to me as I was dying, it sounded like it had a grudge against an ancestor of ours as it said I looked like him and recognised my earrings. I insulted the thing, hoping it would finish me off, but instead it said it would make me into a demon, and I’d eat my family. It left me there, and I tried to distance myself from the others, I didn’t know how to kill a demon…” Nezuko felt heartbroken all over again, Tanjiro had suffered so much, and after all of it, still tried to protect her and others. And their family- the only consolation was that it was quick.

“I..” she started, finding it hard to continue, “I went up the mountain in the morning, and found a message on the door telling me to run. I then met Tomioka and we discovered what happened to my family. After he laid out their bodies, we saw Tanjiro wasn’t with them and found him hiding near the coal oven. He'd… muzzled himself, wrapped his scarf around his face… We eventually convinced Tomioka to spare Tanjiro and let me go to become a Demon Slayer, then we buried our family and set off for your mountain. You found us not long after that.”

“Tanjiro, write down all you remember of your conversation and interaction with this demon. The progenitor of all demons is elusive and any knowledge about their grudges and history is of value to the Demon Slayer Corps.”

“The progenitor of all demons?” Nezuko repeated, wondering why something like that would target her family.

“Yes, only one demon has the ability to create more of them: Muzan Kibutsuji. Little is known of them other than they have been around for about a thousand years. They may know how to change demons back into humans but they will not divulge that information willingly. They stay in the shadows and send their twelve strongest demons – the waxing and waning moons – alongside all the others, to fight Demon Slayers and fulfill whatever other goals he has.

“You two should also be cautious and not draw any unnecessary attention to yourselves as they can see through the eyes of all demons and communicate with them.”

Tanjiro touched his earrings.

“I guess I should stop wearing these.” While Nezuko agreed, as her brother said the demon recognised them, it still saddened her that he had to lose yet another part of his identity. "Kibutsuji targeted our family and specifically me.” Urokodaki froze hearing that sentence to Tanjiro’s confusion. “It didn’t eat any of them and tried turning everyone into demons; it wants us for some reason. Better it doesn't know we survived otherwise it might come back for both of us."

He took his earrings out and stared at them in his hand. Nezuko was stuck reflecting on how differently the night’s events would have unfolded if Tanjiro had gone to town to sell charcoal. Would she be a demon instead or just gone like the others? She felt like her attempt to ease his burdens that day led to unimaginable suffering for him now.

“Tanjiro, I’m so sorry!” she cried, encasing his hand in hers. Logically she knew the demon would have attacked that night regardless of who was home but she couldn’t help feeling to blame. Like she had changed fate and for the worse. It would’ve been better if Tanjiro was human, not her!

"Nezuko… It’s not your fault that this happened to me, don't think it in terms of what could have been or who's contributing the most. You going down to town that day, I wanted you to go so you'd notice the strength I've always seen in you. In the ways that matter. If you were a demon and I was human instead, I’m sure we would’ve followed a similar path. I’m just happy you’re okay."

Tanjiro’s fervent smile brought more tears to her eyes as she returned it. There’s no set way things are meant to be. After everything that’s happened to them recently, she’d be thankful forever that they had each other.

Whilst life isn’t fair, she despised those who went out of their way to ensure it. Demons weren’t a natural adversity to face; they were purposely created by someone to cause tragedy. Kind people like Tanjiro tarnished or killed on the whims of another made her blood boil. Kindness wasn’t weak, she’d show this Muzan Kibutsuji that the harder they tried to extinguish it, the brighter she’d make it burn.

She turned to Urokodaki. “Could you tell us more about demons and Demon Slayers?”

“While we toast rice crackers.” Urokodaki watched the children’s faces light up as he turned to gather the utensils.

Chapter Text

“Demon’s existence is still shrouded in mystery. How and when they originated is unclear except that it was many centuries ago.” Urokodaki explained, as the three of them prepared rice crackers. While they still smelt the same to Tanjiro, the smell didn’t entice him as they used to.

“In stories, people identified them by ‘demon marks’, unusual features such as fangs and claws, uncommon eye, hair and skin colours, unnatural markings on the skin, even animal or other inhuman traits such as horns or tails. Some demons don’t vaguely resemble a human at all. Though these differences cannot be counted on as many demons can shapeshift or look rather human at first glance, like your brother here.”

Nezuko looked over to her brother who was looking at himself. It was still surreal, knowing that he wasn’t human anymore. Tanjiro could barely comprehend it himself. Holding a rice cracker over the flame, he intently studied his hands. Once toughened and nicked with work over the years, they were now unblemished and slightly paler than they were before.

They didn’t look like his hands anymore.

Not to mention the claws. He constantly had to avoid scratching things, he’d never felt the need to be careful with his touch, but now he held things gently and delicately interacted with Nezuko.

And his eyes… He understood why Nezuko had initially shrunk away from him in fear. He’d spotted a small mirror in Urokodaki’s home as the man gathered things for cooking and steeled himself to see his new appearance. His eyes, previously a cheery crimson, were now an eerie bright red, holding a faint inhuman glow. As he examined his reflection, his pupils narrowed to slits and it took much of his control not to throw the mirror in his startlement. They were the same eyes as that thing. He was surprised Nezuko could stand to look at him though he guessed it was because she wasn’t there the night of the attack.

His canines had lengthened to sharp points, making talking awkward as he got used to them. And painful when he accidentally sliced or bit his tongue. Knowing what a demon’s teeth were for resulted in him initially muzzling himself, although Urokodaki’s presence helped him feel a bit more confident in his self-control.

“Demons eat humans for sustenance. They have lost their memories and humanity so they will consume anyone without hesitation. They use their enhanced senses, strength and physiques, rapid regeneration and other supernatural abilities to overpower humans. They can regenerate limbs and rapidly heal any wound inflicted, though this healing is slowed with sunlight, fatigue, or exposure to wisteria.

“Stronger demons possess abilities known as Blood Demon Arts. Hard to predict and counter, these abilities vary wildly, incorporating different and drastic forms of blood and body manipulation. Demons also only get more powerful with age; the more humans they eat, the more their strength and abilities develop. They do not suffer the effects of disease or aging and will continually hunt humans until they are killed.” Nezuko and Tanjiro stared at him in worry, how were they to hope to defeat them? Just the one they’d faced together was formidable enough and from Urokodaki’s explanation, it likely was a weak demon.

“Demon Slayers use their extensive training and Breathing Styles to combat demons, wielding special Nichirin swords which can kill a demon when beheaded with one. The Breathing Style I will teach you both is Water Breathing; it is versatile and will aid you in evading, countering, and defeating the demons you encounter. I will explain more during your training.”

Removing their rice crackers from the flame, Tanjiro watched Nezuko blow on hers and bite into the crispy treat in delight. Eyeing his, he tentatively broke off a piece and chewed. It provided as much flavour and satisfaction as his wooden muzzle did. This was to be expected, but it still saddened him. He handed his cracker to Nezuko. Urokodaki watched silently, his mask’s glaring eyes unnerving Tanjiro at times.

“Human food will not provide you any sustenance. As I have not heard of a demon dying of starvation, we will see how you fair without eating.”  Tanjiro nodded; it wasn’t like he had any other option.

What worried him, is that even after sleeping for days following that fight with the demon, Tanjiro still felt tired. He dreaded that the exhaustion might turn to hunger.

As it got late, Tanjiro wrote down and handed his account of Kibutsuji to Urokodaki who wrote a letter to send to the head of the Demon Slayer Corps. Nezuko wrote a letter to Saburo.

He and Nezuko got ready to sleep, a small piece of normalcy they could finally share after the tumultuous events of late. Tomorrow would be a fresh start, a first step into a new, dangerous world which they hadn’t known had always been that way. Both of them had changed already and would continue to drastically, however, they had embarked on this journey together so they’d always have someone by their side who felt like home.

The day after Nezuko had stayed at his home, something had happened to the Kamados.

The first warning sign was when no Kamado came to town to sell charcoal. The second was no smoke coming from the mountain. The Kamado family were tenacious, always picking up the work in another’s place, so the lack of activity didn’t bode well.

He decided to pay them a visit the next day.

The scene that greeted him ripped at old wounds. Bloodstains and destruction, those he treated as a second family lined up under the ground. This level of carnage pointed to demons and reminded him again just how cruel the world can be. How powerless humans were to the terrible power of demons.

The faint hope he held was that there were possibly survivors. There were only five new graves and the message on the door implied this happened when Nezuko was with him. She was nowhere to be seen now. The one who wrote the message may have survived too, unless the grave count was resultant in there being nothing left to bury for one member. Someone at least had to have dug the graves.

He hoped Nezuko was alive and well, wherever she was. He hoped she wasn’t alone.

Paying the graves his respects, he set off down the mountain, the icy wind numb against his skin.

Days passed, and word spread about the mysterious tragedy of the Kamado family. About the house bloodied and abandoned, the fresh graves beside it. Some thought bandits did it, or a wild animal. Others even suspected demons or other supernatural entities as surely nothing else could do something so vile. Nonetheless, mornings in town lost their cheeriness as the residents mourned the family that had watched over them from the mountain.

About two weeks after the family’s death, Saburo found a crow perched on his windowsill. It eyed him in a manner suggesting intelligence and offered out its leg as he approached it. On closer inspection, he saw a letter attached to the offered limb and carefully untied it.

He unfolded the paper and began to read.

To Mr. Saburo,

Sorry for my letter’s delay, the last few days have been hectic and I’m just starting to settle down in a new place after recent events. It’s still hard to write about what happened.

As I’m sure you’ve found out by now, my family was killed the night I stayed over at your house. You might be the only person to believe me, but a demon did it. When I went home that morning, I saw what had happened to them and met a Demon Slayer like in your stories.

This next part might be harder to believe, but one of my family managed to survive the demon’s attack; Tanjiro. The problem is, he became a demon in the process. He’s still himself though! He’s still kind and helping me as best he can after the horrible thing that happened to him. After arguing with the Demon Slayer for Tanjiro’s life, he agreed to send us to Mount Sagiri to his cultivator where I could train to become a Demon Slayer myself. I need to get stronger to protect Tanjiro and find a cure for his condition. We won’t go home until we do. I’m not sure if or what you should tell the town, but I just wanted you to know we’re safe and cared for.

I’ll send you letters occasionally to keep you informed on how we’re faring, you can send some back with the crow once they send mine.

Thank you for everything you’ve done for us,

From Nezuko and Tanjiro Kamado

With tears in his eyes, he looked back over to the crow and asked it to stay as he quickly gathered some writing supplies. Two of his second family were safe.

Chapter Text

The next day, Urokodaki gave Tanjiro clothes to train in, and a little after dawn, led his two students up the mountain and told them to descend it on opposite sides, Tanjiro the far side, Nezuko the near. The dense vegetation provided adequate sun protection for Tanjiro, whose burns from yesterday were almost healed. Urokodaki postulated that his healing was slower than a normal demon because he hadn’t had any sustenance, and that his other baseline demon abilities were likely lower than average as a result.

As Tanjiro nodded in agreement, he couldn’t help but shoulder this handicap for not eating humans with a sense of pride. It almost made him feel more human himself not having such inhuman traits.

But overall, he needed to be as strong as possible to defeat demons and protect Nezuko. He’d need all the strength he could get. If he can’t fight like a demon, he’d fight like a Demon Slayer.

He gave Nezuko a nod and encouraging smile before they split up to meet at the bottom.

Many obstacles triggered or avoided later, the two met back at around the same time outside Urokodaki’s house in a similarly beat-up and dishevelled state. They then swung their wooden swords in basic forms as Urokodaki adjusted their motions over a thousand times. Then Urokodaki had them doing different strength and stamina-building drills until they collapsed.

By the evening, both students were exhausted, stumbling through the door with Nezuko getting dinner with Urokodaki as Tanjiro cleaned up for sleep.

When Nezuko got ready for bed, she untied her long hair from its tight bun and Tanjiro helped her detangle and remove leaves and other debris from it. Her hair was always tied up now, for practicality, but she didn’t want to cut it, so her brother helped her brush it, deftly threading his claws to remove tangles from the wavy locks. It became a comforting evening ritual for the two of them.

 In the lantern light, as they tucked themselves into their futons, they looked to each other tiredly. This was just the first day. They both nursed sore muscles, burning lungs and bruised skin. And tomorrow they would do it all again.

Neither had to say anything; there was no regret in their decision.

And so, the days blurred together in a constant cycle of pain, exhaustion and perseverance. Urokodaki had them repeat this training under his strict tutelage while upping the repetitions, building deadlier traps, and making them do it all whilst carrying their swords.

As Nezuko gradually got faster and stronger, Tanjiro was starting to fall behind, appearing perpetually exhausted though he tried to hide it. Urokodaki must have noticed by now but said nothing of it as Tanjiro was able to just keep up with the training. Not wanting to mention it, Tanjiro had started to feel hungry, the sheer emptiness inside him the clearest sensation in his hazy perception. He thanked any deity that’d take the prayers of a demon that his hunger never linked to Nezuko or Urokodaki. He didn’t think he could live with that if it did.

Nearing the end of their first month on the mountain, Tanjiro was emaciated, barely completing the minimum expected exercises and was struggling to wake up in the mornings and stay awake.

Nezuko was worried he would fall asleep like after their fight with that demon at the temple and simply never wake up again.

Urokodaki started adding new teachings to their day’s structure.

Today, they were practicing tucks, rolls and recoveries, for when they would be punched, thrown, falling from heights or dodging in combat. All while holding their swords and if they dropped it, they earned 500 sword swings as punishment. Both students looked aghast at the consequences.

As with most new exercises so far, Tanjiro went first to demonstrate it for Nezuko. Mainly in hopes that Nezuko could learn something from his failures before her turn. He was much quicker at healing even in his weakened state than her and Urokodaki had no qualms roughing either of them up in training. Many awkward and hard falls later, Tanjiro went to stand off to the side as Nezuko had her turn, adjusting his clothes and removing dirt from his sore limbs.

While Nezuko observed what he did and adapted from it, she still made her own mistakes, scoring some bad tumbles after she rushed their teacher.

After one particularly hard tumble - where Urokodaki flung her to the side - she fell clumsily, landing heavily on an elbow with sticks grazing her arm. She hissed in pain as she righted herself, Urokodaki curtly explaining what she did wrong. They both paused when they heard growling from Tanjiro; the demon boy's eyes were slitted, blood vessels pulsating and his claws and fangs extended. He was staring down Urokodaki and looked ready to pounce.

Nezuko stumbled in his direction.

“Tanjiro! Stop! It’s okay, I’m okay. Everything’s fine!” The deep grumble of his growl lessened as his eyes flicked from Urokodaki to Nezuko. “Don’t give in to this! Please!” After a moment of panting as the others remained still under the tension, Tanjiro eventually reverted back to his more human appearance.

He looked stricken and sunk into a low bow apologising profusely.

“I’m sorry! I don’t know what came over me! I know you’re only helping us get stronger but in the moment my reasoning just left me.” He stayed bent down as if awaiting his execution. At the resulting long silence, he straightened in confusion. He still found it hard to read their teacher’s expressions and didn’t know what to do with himself in the lack of response.

“It's rather common for demons to have fixations that carry over from their human lives,” Urokodaki eventually explained, as if his outburst had never occurred. “They might stick to certain environments, hunt people with specific traits, or keep interests or habits they used to have. These traits become intensified and linked to aggression. Newer demons and those with less sentience have little control over how this fixation affects them and their response to it.

“Tanjiro likely has a fixation on protecting you Nezuko, his last remaining family, especially due to the events leading up to his turning.” He turned to face Tanjiro. “You will require training to control and overcome this, it is crucial to keep a clear head in battle and this fixation could be used against you. You could go berserk if Nezuko were to become gravely injured and cause untold tragedy.” Tanjiro looked to Nezuko morosely; to have his love for his family perverted into a dangerous obsession felt like it desecrated their bond.

And the anger it triggered scared him.

“Tanjiro, please don’t feel bad for having this,” Nezuko said, trying to cheer him up, “It’s not your fault! And we can work with this; at least your fixation isn’t eating eyeballs or something weird like that.”

“Nezuko!” he exclaimed scandalised. Nezuko looked gleeful at his disgust.

“Nezuko is right,” Urokodaki said, shocking the two children, “The base form of this fixation is rather benign. I would like to try hypnotic suggestion as another way to control this.”

“That won’t wipe away his personality, will it?” Nezuko was worried she’d be left with a docile husk wearing her brother’s form. On the other hand, Tanjiro losing control could cause devastation.

“It will not remove his free will; I will simply plant suggestions to tweak his mind’s and instinct’s paths to help avoiding them going astray. An example would be taking the thoughts ‘protect Nezuko at all costs’ and altering them to ‘what actions would best reflect Nezuko’s wishes?’ It should hopefully aid giving Tanjiro a choice in his actions instead of following wild impulses.”

Nezuko felt bad for discussing Tanjiro as if he were a dangerous thing. He is a prisoner to his demon body – his mind influenced by its physiology. He sat there silently throughout their discussion, likely prepared to go along with whatever solution they decided. Nezuko couldn’t help being reminded of her arguing with Giyu over Tanjiro’s life, of Tanjiro accepting his fate at Giyu’s hands. He would’ve selflessly acquiesced to his own destruction if he thought it best. He always put others first, just like she did, so it would be hypocritical to complain about this.

She still wished he’d care for himself more anyway.

Urokodaki also planned to set a failsafe in his mind that if anything ever happened to her; be it killed in action or dying from old age, instead of going berserk from loss, he would default into protecting those Nezuko loves. Tanjiro agreed to it; anyone Nezuko deemed deserving of her affection would likely earn his too. Determined to never need this, it was still relieving to have it in place.

Talk over, Tanjiro was swapped back in to be tossed around as Nezuko recovered. He didn’t last long until after one fall he simply didn’t get back up. As Nezuko rushed to his side in panic, Urokodaki sighed and slung the boy over his shoulder to bring back to his home.

Before dinner Tanjiro awoke again but Nezuko knew his exhaustion was far from over. Sleeping clearly restored some energy, but if he wanted to continue training and not risk falling into a coma-like state, they had to think of something.

Nezuko hates seeing him like this, seeing his decline over the last few weeks. It reminded her too strongly of what happened to her father. He’d look at them as he deteriorated with a smile. He died with the same gentle smile upon his face.

There had to be something she could do for him; she couldn’t watch helplessly again.

Urokodaki was wondering what to do about the demon living in his house.

This demon, Tanjiro Kamado, was a peculiar individual who challenged what he thought to be irrefutable facts about demons. Urokodaki was curious to test the boy that had intrigued Tomioka and see for himself just how different this demon was. Or kill it if it turned out it wasn’t different enough.

At first the demon was uncertain around him, looking equal parts like it wanted to interact more and worried to draw attention to itself. While enthusiastic and determined when training and around Nezuko, it was withdrawn otherwise.

As time passed, the demon grew weaker. Its determination to keep up not enough to conquer the lack of energy it had. Though it was clear it wanted to be human, it obviously still possessed the shortcomings of a demon physiology.

The demon looked at him each morning like it was surprised to still be alive. Urokodaki sometimes wondered why himself, Tanjiro was only getting worse, it seemed cruel to continue with this situation. The demon never complained, training until it collapsed repeatedly, injuries accumulating instead of healing, and becoming noticeably thinner. Though it had lapses in control, Urokodaki was surprised that it hadn’t broken yet.

Tanjiro always turned up for training, showed his love and attention to Nezuko, and tried to interact with him. As time passed and he could see the child knew it likely wasn’t going to make it, he looked to him with an acceptance that made him uncomfortable to observe. Tanjiro still refused to break.

He thought of all the children he’d trained in the past, who came to him rife with malnutrition, neglect, and sadness. How they’d gone along with everything he suggested, trusting he had their best interests in heart. On his worse days, he wonders if that was true, why did he teach them at all?

This child whose life he held in his hands looked up trustingly at him, like all the others, even after it became clear Urokodaki couldn’t do anything to help him.

Couldn’t or wouldn’t though?

He’d initially planned to observe passively however he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he didn’t try something.

Thinking of this demon as not a child made it easier for him to convince himself he wasn’t failing another one. His heart knew better.

He started to seriously try to solve this problem.

Letting him continue on as before would probably lead to an unending stasis, never gaining enough energy to function and wake from it. Additionally, feeding him actual humans was certainly out of the question.

Demons cannibalising each other wasn’t unheard of; many were animalistic and tore into anything in their perceived territory. Others did it for power. Urokodaki didn’t think Tanjiro or Nezuko would stand the idea of the boy feasting upon something that looked remotely human. There was also the fact that demons could only be eaten when alive; their bodies turn to ash otherwise. It would be dangerous to try and horrible to watch, best to find another option.

Urokodaki had heard stories of severely starved demons tearing into animals before. Seeing the demon boy suffering whilst wasting away showed commendable resolve but would either end with it crumbling or him dying of starvation. Assuming a demon could, that is. Seeing the boy maintain control after his initial slipup and then collapse from overwork showing no aggression, Urokodaki was ready to give this method of sustenance a try.

Handing the tired boy an axe, he sent him off into the night with orders to eat a deer. He looked ready to protest, but Urokodaki’s firm stance told him it would be pointless.

“Every living thing needs to get its energy from somewhere, demons aren’t an exception.”

Tanjiro hadn’t had meat often, fish occasionally, but meat was expensive and whenever they were able to trap rabbits or other animals on the mountain, Tanjiro made sure his younger siblings got most of it. Tanjiro would hand over the animal to his mother for her to prepare it, and wouldn’t see the meat again until it was carved, cooked, and presented neatly. Bring a rabbit home, rabbit stew for dinner.

His current actions were worlds away from that clean and civilised routine.

He roughly hacked chunks of muscle from the carcass with the axe before scarfing down the still-warm flesh.

He had been glad for the axe as he set off to hunt, unable to consider slashing apart an animal with his claws. The thought of biting into a living thing also made him sick.

Now that he had started eating, his past hangups held no hold.

Beforehand, he aimed to keep himself calm and his cuts clean. It had begun well, killing the deer instantly in one blow; it didn’t have time to feel fear or suffer. Looking at the butchered corpse and his near-frenzied state, he hadn’t quite achieved his goal. It took all his surviving resolve not to bury his teeth into and rip shreds from the feast before him. Hands shaking as he gripped the axe, he continued the cycle of chopping up then devouring the meat.

The sounds of his rapid wheezes punctuated by the wet squelching of tearing flesh filled the silent scenery, as if every living thing nearby was terrified to make a noise lest draw the demon’s attention.

He didn’t know how he’d eaten so much yet felt so empty. He didn’t know where the sheer volume of what he’d consumed went. He guessed it was digested at the same speed at which demons healed for something human-sized to be capable of eating many humans in one night. Don’t think about humans right now! His mind, just to spite him, conjured images of humans over the bloodbath before him. It only made him salivate more.

Sickened by himself, his stomach heaved.

He slammed a hand over his mouth, hunched over as his insides spasmed in protest. He had to eat this. He would not waste this meat and disrespect the animal he killed for it. Endure it! Just like my training, I’m doing this to protect Nezuko! Swallowing repeatedly, he worked through the nausea. Staring at the twisted pile of bones and viscera, he couldn’t stomach any more. After a hitching inhale, he let out a strangled sound of abject agony. It echoed off the trees around him as he dissolved into sobs. He sat there trembling until the remains cooled, eventually getting up to bury what was left.

He couldn’t help but think the feeling that his hunger was somewhat satiated was worse than the hunger itself. This is his new version of having a meal. He was thankful he was far enough away on the mountain for his sister and teacher not to witness this.

He said some short prayers over the deer’s remains, for it and himself. For the first time, he hoped his family were not watching over him.

Blood was splattered all over him, especially his hands and face. The scent was so strong he wondered if it would ever truly wash off. Tears, snot and saliva tracks added to the disgusting mix of fluids. He didn’t think he could take facing Nezuko in his current state. He looked and felt every part the monster.

“There’s a stream not far past the rocky outcrop over there,” a voice from the forest said. Tanjiro flinched and turned around to see Urokodaki materialising from the foliage. He hadn’t smelt his presence through his blocked nose from his crying. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Chapter Text

“I needed to see if you could control yourself,” Urokodaki explained. “You did well considering the circumstances.” Seeing that the boy was still frozen, staring at him in shock, Urokodaki approached and put an arm around his shoulders. Tanjiro tensed before relaxing at the touch, this being the first time Urokodaki had physically interacted with him outside of sparring. In the chilly, dark forest, he was a warm presence at his back. Slowly, he guided Tanjiro away from the clearing, his slight frame trembling beneath his hand.

Watching the demon eat wasn't an easy feat, though seeing his reaction afterwards showed it wasn't easy for him either.

Hearing a child cry so brokenly like that, demon or not, wasn't something he could ignore.

With how quiet Tanjiro could be, still struggling to talk around his fangs, and with how strong he tried to appear for his sister, Urokodaki sometimes forgot he was only a year older than her and was going through the same things and more. Guilty to admit, he assumed Tanjiro didn't feel as much due to his demonic nature. He'd ignored his nose in denial of the demon's emotions. His scent was saturated with grief and sadness, inhuman undertones or not.

Regular demons have a superiority complex paired with no morals or past frame of reference. Tanjiro was still human at heart and had his memories, causing him additional suffering knowing how deplorable his existence was.

Yet he continued on, for his sister.

“You have committed to a difficult and painful path and I wish you the best for it. I will teach you Water Breathing and all I know about demons to support you in this endeavour.” Tanjiro could smell the man’s guilt and kindness, able to understand the meaning behind his words.

From the beginning Tanjiro got the impression Urokodaki tolerated him for Nezuko’s sake, believing he wouldn’t get far or maybe at worst become a lesson on a demon’s aggressive and deceitful nature if he ever lost himself. The training was just to humour him, to keep an eye on him and not be taken seriously as his condition deteriorated. Tanjiro never said a word about it, accepting his treatment as long as Nezuko was well cared for and trained.

As he fell for more traps on his mountain descents, and unable to complete as many exercises as he used to, he’d look to Urokodaki’s displeased mask and think his time was coming to an end.

His dream of saving others and protecting Nezuko was crumbling around him. He fought as hard as he could, but as he became more a liability by the day, he’d looked to Urokodaki with resignation, waiting when he’d stop pretending he actually expected Tanjiro to become a Demon Slayer. Stop preparing him for a future that would never be.

Something had changed in the man, the scent of masked kindness that permeated his being finally felt directed towards himself. Physically and emotionally drained from the day, he let Urokodaki gently guide him through the trees.

Once they arrived at the stream, Tanjiro entered fully clothed and methodically washed himself off. He felt numb to the wintery water, reeling from his recent actions. He couldn’t let himself become this hungry again, not just for his but everyone else’s sake. Worse still, while eating the deer satiated his hunger, he hadn’t regained much strength from it. He could live like this, eating animals but constantly on the edge of starvation, however, he wouldn’t be of much help to Nezuko. He’d barely survive and never gain the true power of a demon like this.

At least this way he could stay with Nezuko and complete his training; that’s all he can focus on for now. He wouldn’t have to leave her behind.

“You are to go out and do this fortnightly,” Urokodaki said as Tanjiro wrung out his clothes. He shuddered at the prospect of having to do all this again, for the rest of his life. “While a demon’s strength is only gained through eating, I still expect you to complete every drill and exercise Nezuko does to build your skills and muscle memory. Come, it is late and you have training in the morning.”

Having Urokodaki’s hand on his shoulder, a comforting pressure anchoring him to the present, he felt that he’d been reprieved from a death sentence. His prospects weren’t as grim as he’d thought they were and he could still earn a place in this world as a demon.

They walked back to the house in silence, and though it went unsaid, Tanjiro finally felt like he’d passed Urokodaki’s test to become his student.

Nezuko was overjoyed to see Tanjiro able to keep up with her in training again the next day. Still tired and a bit weak, he persevered and matched her in strength and skills to her relief. Feigning sleep, she’d overheard what Urokodaki had sent Tanjiro out to do last night, but after seeing him come back so shaken, she didn’t mention it to him. She refused to be anything but glad for it; it kept him alive.

They started learning Total Concentration Breathing and flips and acrobatics in preparation for the Water Breathing forms. It was meditative how they controlled their breathing under Urokodaki’s instruction as they tried to precisely move through the motions. Until their teacher pummelled them for doing it wrong.

The normality of it, the three of them training together, living together, experiencing the ordinary struggles of everyday life on the mountain, made him smile.

He could do without getting pummelled though.

A few days later, as they sat around the brazier at dinner, Urokodaki brought out some type of medical equipment he’d recently acquired that neither sibling had seen before. It was a modern medical advancement; it would allow one to easily draw and store blood for transfusions.

“I consulted a doctor and between Nezuko and I, we can safely supply you with a cup of blood a month.” Tanjiro was aghast, looking to each of them expecting a joke or argument or something.

“I’m fine, really! You don’t have to do this!”

“I will not be able to guide you on your demon abilities if you are unable to draw on them.” Urokodaki stated. “You will also need all the strength you can get to become a Demon Slayer.”

“Tanjiro, it’s been horrible watching you struggle this past month, if this will help, I’ll gladly do it.” Nezuko added.

“But-“

“You’d do it for me if I was in your position, right?”

“Of course.” She’d caught him there.

Urokodaki then explained the whole process, ensuring they both understood how to prepare the equipment, extract blood, and correctly sterilise and clean up afterwards. He then got ready to do a demonstration with Nezuko to practice with the equipment. Tanjiro idled off by the side, wanting nothing more than to leave the room and pretend this day never happened.

“Come closer,” Urokodaki beckoned him over, “You need to learn this too.” The man couldn’t help but find some amusement in the notion of a demon being squeamish about the idea of drawing human blood.

But for Tanjiro, the smell of it always brought great sadness.

He watched on, Urokodaki guiding Nezuko through the process to take blood from him. As they reached the stage where his blood was flowing gently into the collection container, the scent of it caused Tanjiro to go rigid. A wave of emotion overwhelmed him; desire paired with disgust, hunger and revulsion. Though the deer had somewhat filled the gaping abyss of his starvation, human blood excited a different type of desperation. Anchoring himself in place, he performed his Total Concentration Breathing to calm and restrain his instincts. Despite this, his claws and fangs lengthened marginally and his eyes glowed faintly at the stimulus.

He felt tears well in his eyes; this was the blood of his new guardian - who he liked and respected – and all he could think about was how sweet and delicious of an aroma it had. He swallowed back saliva and hardened his gaze. He would endure this new form of suffering. For them.

He looked up from the blood to see the others staring at him.

“Sorry. I’m fine.” From their answering looks, neither believed him but didn’t call it out. Finishing the blood draw, Tanjiro eyed the cup of blood with a pained longing. He wanted to not want it, but he wanted it badly.

“Drink it,” Urokodaki prompted in his usual strict tone. “You’ve shown great restraint so far, however, we have to test if you can maintain control. That you can have this in moderation and exhibit the self-discipline to stop.” Suffering indeed.

He grasped the cup in a shaky hand, careful to not shatter it in his internally frenzied state, and took a measured sip. The two observed as he looked like he was trying not to spontaneously combust. Sip by careful sip, he finished the cup, gasping by the end as if he’d just finished one of Urokodaki’s brutal training exercises. Which in a way he had.

“I won’t say it will get easier,” Urokodaki said, “But you will get better at controlling your instincts. You will encounter blood as a Demon Slayer; corpses, injured bystanders, injured comrades. You’re well on the way to being able to ignore it and hopefully in the future, aid wounded humans without showing temptation.” As much as Tanjiro liked that idea, he was quite a long way from treating an actively bleeding person without drooling on them. He didn’t think that would end well.

Recovering from the blood-drinking ordeal, he noticed this was the best he’s felt since becoming a demon. Like a constant background headache he’d resigned himself to have, suddenly faded away. Everything felt clear and doable in the aftermath, gaining clarity and power previously lying dormant in his being. While he detested the method it came about, he was happy to be able to engage further in his training for a future looking a bit brighter by the day.

“Thank you Urokodaki, I’ll give it my all,” Tanjiro said with a tentative smile.

“Ew yuck, you need to clean your teeth!” Nezuko exclaimed, scrunching her face in mock disgust. There she went trying to add some levity to the situation. Urokodaki sighed in a manner that sounded infused with however old the man was. He looked over to Tanjiro.

“Get some water, we’ll finish cleaning up here.”

Months went by, and the siblings continued their training. They began practicing the ten Water Breathing forms, repeating them over and over, in different orders until they could fluidly transition from one technique to the other. Urokodaki also included more unorthodox exercises to keep them adaptive to their environment, like throwing them off a waterfall. Nezuko had been appalled when he casually kicked Tanjiro off the edge into the rushing currents, the boy screaming as he fell. Until she went to lean over to check if he was okay and was kicked down too. Scaling a rockface was another memorable experience. At least Tanjiro finally found a good use for his claws.

Urokodaki also included many more blades into his traps on the mountain; the only plus side was that they had real swords now to defend themselves with.

At night around the fire, he would teach them more about the Demon Slayer Corps and its history and demons and their abilities. He told them stories of other Slayers and their feats with different breathing techniques. And of fearsome demons he’d encountered and the otherworldly blood arts they possessed.

Tanjiro underwent hypnotic suggestion as they’d discussed, and while he didn’t feel any different, he found it easier to not become enraged at injuries Nezuko gained. It still worried him when she got hurt, but he was sure that was a normal level of concern. The blood drawing and consuming animals still left him shaken, but the was getting more used to it as time went on.

As promised, Urokodaki started training him in his demon abilities, as Nezuko watched on in fascination. Both siblings were well aware that a demon’s abilities centred around killing and consuming humans, but since it was Tanjiro and the setting was non-combative, they couldn’t help their captivation at the supernatural things he could do. Sometimes during their regular training, Nezuko could almost forget he was a demon, then she’d see his fangs or claws, or see a bruise heal before her eyes.

This training started with Urokodaki gauging what abilities Tanjiro possessed.

Firstly, they tested his shape shifting capabilities, with Urokodaki asking him to shrink down like he'd seen him do before. Nezuko found it extraordinary each time she witnessed this and he had to agree. It was a peculiar ability to have come naturally to him, to reduce his size and perceived age.

Standing in the form of a toddler, he looked up to his teacher for further guidance and to his confusion, the man picked him up.

“Weight has indeed decreased and all demon traits are still present. Tanjiro, which Water Breathing technique would be best suited to conduct an attack from above?” The demon thought for a moment.

“Eighth form: Waterfall Basin?”

Urokodaki nodded in approval.

“Your intelligence and memory are still intact in this form. Does anything feel different?”

“I feel like I have more energy?”

“That is likely because you have a smaller body to maintain and control. This ability though ill-suited for swordsmanship, could be useful in evading attacks. You should practice descending the mountain in this form too.” With that he put Tanjiro down. “Do you still possess your full strength at this size?” The boy tilted his head and ran off towards a boulder, clothes trailing behind him. To Nezuko’s astonishment, he unearthed the mossy rock from the ground, its diameter as wide as Urokodaki was tall. It was jarring to see what appeared to be a toddler holding such a heavy object above their head. He carefully lowered it with a dull thud.

“You can return to your normal form now.” Tanjiro did. Urokodaki’s mask seemed to stare through him, studying him in a way that made Tanjiro slightly uncomfortable. “Can you make yourself appear more human?” Tanjiro’s brows furrowed; he’d never thought about trying to manipulate his appearance to how he’d like it. He tried, willing his nails to return to normal, gritting his teeth as if he could force them flat. Nothing happened.

“I don’t think so,” he said dismayed.

“Luckily you have a relatively human default appearance. Aside from hiding your teeth, you will be able to pass as human to most people. Other Demon Slayers are more likely to recognise you for what you are so be cautious.” Tanjiro nodded at his words.

“Will other demons recognise him as a demon?” Nezuko asked, “The one we faced didn’t recognise I was human at first.”

“Stronger demons have enhanced sensory perception; they will easily tell the difference. Next, can you make yourself appear more demon-like?” Tanjiro definitely hadn’t ever tried to do this. He hesitated, unsure how to proceed.

“Oh! Do you think you could grow horns? Or a tail!? Wouldn’t that be awesome?” Nezuko sounded way too excited by this.

“Why would I want a tail?” Tanjiro sounded as lost as he felt.

“You could hit demons with it?” Nezuko shrugged, as he stared at her blankly.

“Against my previous guidance, I want you to focus on your hunger and aggression to try and trigger a transformation.”

Having his sister and teacher watch him intently wasn’t helping. However, for the sake of his training, he’d at least try.

Even if he really didn’t want a tail.

He focussed on his hunger, an ever-present aspect of being a demon though it had become dulled and more bearable with his consumption of animals and human blood. He tried to summon his anger, thinking of Muzan Kibutsuji, thinking of what he did to his family. The anger was there, he could feel it, but the thoughts alone weren’t enough to enrage him.

“I don’t think I can do it,” he said, feeling neither happy or sad about it.

“We know you can appear more demonic, such as when you eat, but this is likely an instinctual response and difficult to invoke without the correct stimulus. Similar to how you didn’t act aggressive to me knowing Nezuko was being hurt by my traps, until you directly saw me cause injury to her in front of you.” Reflecting back on that, Tanjiro had to agree with Urokodaki’s conclusion. “Lastly, I want you to try growing larger. If you can shrink your size and appear younger, you might be able to do the opposite.”

Tanjiro was dubious at first, yet this wasn’t any more far-fetched than him being able to become half his usual height. Drawing on the feeling he felt when he changed size earlier, he pushed it up and out, and to his surprise, he felt himself growing taller. He pushed further, straining to see how far he could drive this change. He gained a bit more height until a painful tightness in his chest caused him to stop. He panted, couldn’t stop panting, as it took great effort to simply maintain this size.

Nezuko gaped at him, eyes bulging. He looked like an adult! One with undersized clothes. He now matched Urokodaki’s height.

“It worked?” he gasped, tensing to hold his form. Nezuko found it just as surreal to hear her brother’s regular voice come from an adult version of himself as it was from his toddler self. It was so weird! Is this what he’d look like in the future? That question put a bit of a dampener on her excitement; as a demon, he didn’t age.

Tanjiro shrunk down to his regular height, wheezing as he regained his breath. Urokodaki placed a hand gently on his head.

“With practice, you should be able to maintain that form for longer, you might also be able to further manipulate your body. Time to head back for the day.”

The next week during Urokodaki’s demon training, the two siblings wondered what would be tested in this session.

“Tanjiro, could you roll up your sleeve?” The boy did as directed, though puzzled as to the purpose of it.

Until, almost faster than he could perceive, Urokodaki drew his sword and lopped his arm off at the elbow.

He grunted in pain, clutching the freely bleeding stump, trying to initiate his recovery breathing. He could hear Nezuko shouting in the background, his head filled with buzzing as he stared at the grievous wound. He struggled to not panic; he couldn’t stop the bleeding. In that moment he truly forgot he was a demon and thought he was going to die.

“…Tanjiro! Tanjiro! Look at me!” Urokodaki’s hands gripping his shoulders were the only reason he had remained standing. His tengu mask’s nose directly in his face gained Tanjiro’s attention. “Can you move the arm?” He hyperventilated, wide eyes finding his arm on the ground. “Move the arm,” Urokodaki repeated, his calm scent helping to anchor Tanjiro as he tried to control the severed limb. The fingers twitched and moved on command, accompanied by the odd sensation of feeling and seeing them at a distance. If he had anything in his stomach, he would’ve lost it.

“Try to heal the arm.” He looked back to his teacher, seeing Nezuko over his shoulder with tears streaked down her cheeks. He looked at the stump – which showed no sign of clotting - without a clue what to do.

He couldn’t quite grasp he’d lost an arm.

“I don’t think I can,” he whispered, terrified of the ramifications.

“I see.” Urokodaki then picked up the arm and firmly pressed it to the stump, causing Tanjiro to clench his teeth as fresh fiery pain erupted at the site, trying not the thrash about. Suddenly the pain stopped.

After Urokodaki released his hold, he skittered backwards away from him, clutching his arm to his chest. His newly reattached and functioning arm he then realised. He eyed the man with a wariness he hadn’t felt since their first meeting. He smelled no animosity, but his guardian had just casually cut his arm off.

Nezuko rushed to his side.

“Let me see it.” He held his arm out numbly. She gently examined it, and aside from the blood ringing the cut site, there was no evidence of the whole ordeal on his flesh. Confirming he was okay, she turned to Urokodaki with an expression of livid betrayal. “What was that!?”

“Further testing of Tanjiro’s regeneration and flesh manipulation abilities.”

“And you couldn’t have warned us!?”

“You would not have agreed to it anyway. Furthermore, it had to be done without knowledge to best trigger the healing response, if any. He had to feel like he was in danger.” Nezuko wasn’t mollified by his answer.

“Never do that again.” Tanjiro had not heard her sound so incensed before.

“Your brother will be injured in battle, and likely sustain wounds no human could survive. You will have to accept this and not let it distract you just as Tanjiro has been training to accept your injuries. And Tanjiro needs to become familiar with and know the limits of his regeneration.” He turned to address Tanjiro. “Was there much pain?”

“O-Only when my arm was cut and reattached.” In his initial shock, he hadn’t spared much thought for the lack of agony the injury caused. Only a muted throbbing at the loss of a limb.

“Hmm. Like that demon you two fought, demons will attack undeterred by bodily damage due to feeling less pain and having the knowledge they will regenerate. They can manipulate detached limbs in various ways, and some can replace theirs in a second. Since your regeneration and manipulation capabilities are quite low Tanjiro, reattach limbs where possible as this takes less energy; though you will eventually regenerate one given time, it will remove you from battle.”

The siblings looked to each other, starting to fully grasp the differences between the two of them now. For the first few months of their training, it was like Tanjiro was a sickly human that looked slightly different, but with these demon training sessions, how completely different her brother was to her was shoved in her face repeatedly. Mind and body altered immensely yet still wrapped in a familiar cover.

Her brother was a demon. A demon. Like the thing that murdered their family and the one that tried biting her face off.

She had never felt so far away from a person she loved whilst standing right next to them. She shivered and clutched at him desperately. He returned the embrace equally so.

They did not test regeneration again after that.

Chapter Text

Their lessons, drills and exercises continued and before they knew it, New Year’s Eve was upon them again.

The mountain had become their new home though they never forgot their first. Urokodaki was like a parent to them, a teacher foremost, but with a kindness that he hid with his strict regime and expectations.

It amazed Tanjiro how far the two of them had come, they were surefooted in their running and dodging, had gained much strength and stamina, and their swordsmanship resembled the eponymous breathing technique. And for him, while he was still a bit weaker than the average demon, he was now familiar with and somewhat trained in the abilities he possessed.

The three of them this time cleaned the house and prepared the food for New Years together. Nezuko was happier this year, having Tanjiro awake and by her side, and with Urokodaki as a pillar of strength and stability in their changing lives.

Getting to writing letters for Saburo and Giyu, Tanjiro joined her to see how easy writing would be with his claws. His scrawled characters were legible and improved as his writing progressed.

Their mother did value them learning to read and write, to become literate even if they had no formal education. Though she didn’t want to admit it, she had worried their family trade may become obsolete in the not-so-distant future and wanted her children to have every chance in life. Times changed; Nezuko had never felt it as strongly as she did living on a faraway mountain, wearing different clothes, family gone, training to fight things she hadn’t thought existed. Her own brother was one of them too. It sounded like the premise to an exciting adventure novel. She’d travelled further than ever before, learnt so much, she was getting stronger, becoming more independent.

She’d trade it all to go back to the quiet, impoverished life she’d lived with her family.

She shook herself out of these thoughts, no use feeling sorry for herself- she had a goal to achieve. Become a Demon Slayer, save others from her fate, cure Tanjiro. For all that she’s lost, there’s still much to be thankful for.

Eating their noodles that night, she could see Tanjiro itching to take up a practice sword and attempt the Hinokami Kagura again. Tanjiro had told Urokodaki as much as he could about the dance, likening some of its movements to Water Breathing techniques, but he couldn’t show them without the risk of setting himself alight. Nezuko firmly told him not to even attempt performing the kagura this year, that their family would value his well-being more than the tradition.

He understood her reasoning, he knew she was right, but he dearly wanted to try again, to say he at least tried.

And so, with Urokodaki and Nezuko watching on, he raised a wooden sword and started the first section.

It ended just as well as the previous year, the only difference being he stopped dancing himself when the burning began. Luckily his healing had improved since last time, the painful burns fading away by the end of the night.

With the year ending and a year of Demon Slayer training completed, they asked Urokodaki about sending them to the Final Selection. Their teacher sat in his contemplative silence, the firelight reflecting off his mask.

“As I tested each of you to see if you were worthy to train as Demon Slayers, I have a final test to judge you ready to send to Final Selection. For now, get some rest.” He didn’t elaborate for the rest of the night.

 The next day, they followed him into a section of the forest they hadn’t been to before, where a large snow-covered boulder in a clearing gained their attention.

“Nezuko, you are to slice this boulder in half, then I’ll send you to Final Selection.” The two students gaped at him. Was that even possible!?

With that statement, Urokodaki walked away; he didn’t even issue Tanjiro with a test.

He didn’t teach them anything else after that.

Their days continued on similarly without Urokodaki’s guidance. They ran the drills themselves and helped critique each other’s forms. They set traps for the other on their sides of the mountain and sparred in the evenings. Every day, Nezuko would try to cut the boulder, the unsuccessful clang as her sword ricocheted off signalling them both to head home for the night. Urokodaki would provide them food, rest and company, but no advice.

They trained on, aware they’d plateaued and didn’t know how to progress.

This went on for months, Nezuko now standing at the same height as Tanjiro which disheartened them both. Tanjiro was happy to see the training and nutrition were aiding her growth yet felt trapped as time was moving on without him. They both felt helpless in the little they’d achieved recently. Nezuko noticed after that that he’d started using his size-shifting ability to appear slightly taller than her and when questioned on it, said it was part of his demon training. Though his face contorted, she didn’t call him out on the obvious lie; her brother just wanted things to feel normal for them both.

One day, as they approached the boulder’s foggy clearing, they found a boy with a fox mask sitting atop it. He insulted their progress and efforts and while this irritated Nezuko, they couldn’t help but agree with him. Then he fought them, first one-on-one then together – with a wooden sword – and beat them both into the ground.

“You call this Water Breathing?” the masked boy sneered at her, “You’re as fluid as tofu and as adaptive as a rock, have you learnt nothing from Urokodaki!?” He vanished and appeared behind Tanjiro. “And you, you want to protect her? You cannot even protect yourself! You better be prepared to bleed for it.”

He zipped around them, faster than they thought a human could move. His movements weaving and twirling with mesmerising, deadly precision. “How can either of you hope to fight if you cannot even correctly breathe!?” The siblings got back up to be knocked down again. “Urokodaki’s lessons are priceless to your survival, if you ever want to cut through your boulder as I’ve done mine, you better beat them into your bones!” Nezuko charged the boy, and with a swift spin, he struck her with his wooden sword hard enough that she lay stunned on the ground.

Tanjiro ran to guard her as she recovered, only to discover the boy was gone and a small girl with a similar mask was in his place. She introduced them both as Mokomo and Sabito, and that they’d guide their training, and although they’d been easily overpowered and shown to be lacking, this was the most promise of improvement they’d had since Urokodaki’s lessons ceased.

Knowing these mysterious swordfighters had cut their boulders made their seemingly unconquerable challenge seem more possible than ever. Seeing their skill gave them a goal to work towards.

Going home that day, covered in cuts and bruises as if they’d tripped every trap on the mountain, Nezuko’s heart felt lighter than it had in months.

Mokomo pointed out their bad habits and form improvements while teaching them to breathe. Heating their blood with Total Concentration Breathing, they felt like they were burning in the chilly mountain air. Their sweat would steam and lungs equally freeze and scorch from the strain.

She was eerily patient and kind, a great teacher and deceptively strong for her build. She mentioned how Urokodaki as a cultivator took in and raised many orphans like her but didn’t volunteer any personal information after that. The siblings never asked Urokodaki about the two masked children or the others, somewhat in fear of the answer.

Sabito would show up at random and pick apart any opening they left in their swordplay. He never treated either of them as a challenge, never went easy on them and never told them what they did wrong. He was also a great teacher, in his own way. And though they never forgot about the boulder always looming in the background of their sparring, beating Sabito had become the new boulder for them both.

Over time, after battling Sabito for weeks, the siblings discussed sensing an opening thread in his movements. Tanjiro described it as him scenting a straight line connecting his blade to an opening on his opponent, that he just had to battle long enough and manoeuvre himself until he could sense it and go for the strike.

Nezuko had a different sense of the opening thread. She described hers as what appeared to be knotted strings, her thread and her opponent’s woven together in the pattern of their movements. Like when she would start a sewing project, she had needed to know intimately the measurements and quality of the material she worked with. As she learned her strengths and limits, her thread in battle became predictable and she could gauge her opponent’s patterns, allowing her to weave through and unravel the strings, their thread pulling taut just as she cut it. Sewing was all about working backwards and inside out, understanding many steps in advance what you were doing to attain a precise end product.

Tanjiro was amazed at her explanation and happy the hear that as the weeks went on, the knot’s size decreased as her skills increased. Soon she’d deftly navigate the interweave to land a decisive blow.

One day, Sabito ditched the training sword for a real blade and the clearing was silent in apprehension for the upcoming challenge. Nezuko approached him and assumed a ready stance. Their fight was over in a single strike, the visual knot dispelled as she realised sometimes the best solution to a tangle was to avoid one in the first place. To avoid becoming stuck, you had to be proactive.

As Sabito’s broken mask and the fog fell away, they saw the boulder was cleft in two.

The boy smiled at them and Makomo congratulated them in the achievement. Nezuko must have hit Sabito but none of them felt the need to voice what they all knew.

They heard footsteps behind them and looked to see Urokodaki approach, saying he didn’t want to send any more children to their deaths in Final Selection. Hugging the two of them and giving them his approval, they looked through the tears in their eyes to see Sabito and Mokomo were gone, and assured their teacher they’d make it back.

They silently promised the masked spirits they would look after Urokodaki in their stead.

Urokodaki prepared a feast for Nezuko in celebration, Tanjiro enjoying seeing her savour the food and accomplishment. Their teacher gave them each warding masks similar to Sabito’s and Mokomo’s, cloud pattern kimonos to wear over their training clothes and Nichirin swords. They looked to each other and couldn’t help but think they looked like mini Urokodakis.

When Urokodaki took them in, he’d sent word to the Head of the Demon Slayer Corps explaining the siblings’ unique circumstances. Tanjiro’s existence had been sanctioned on the condition he stayed with him and trained as a Demon Slayer, alongside the cultivator evaluating and providing updates on his progress.

After his last update including Nezuko’s near-completion of training, he’d been surprised to see in the reply that Tanjiro was granted permission to join her at the upcoming Final Selection. As long as he hid his demonic nature from his peers.

Urokodaki was continually astounded how readily accepting their leader was to allow Tanjiro into their ranks. He guessed the chance at gaining a strong immortal swordsman with knowledge of a possibly ancient breathing style outweighed the perceived risk.

“As you know,” the man said unsheathing his shimmering blue blade, “Demons are hard to kill, their only weaknesses being wisteria and sunlight. Any injuries inflicted by other means are not fatal and are healed quickly. Demon Slayers’ Nichirin swords act like a reserve and conduit for sunlight, allowing the wielder to behead and kill demons. Any wounds inflicted by the material are slower healing also.”

Urokodaki turned to Tanjiro. “Most battles between demons end in stalemates, with neither able to kill the other, but using this blade you can. You must be careful though; if you become incapacitated and your opponent takes your sword, they could now kill you instead. When you carry this blade, all fights will be decisive. Losing will lead to your death.”

"So... Just like a regular human Demon Slayer then," Nezuko concluded.

"That is correct. Nonetheless, the better your fighting, the more people you can protect, and comrades you can help. While you heal quickly, it still takes time which could lead to more injuries. And all blood and body lost must be replaced- you know what that entails."

Tanjiro shuddered at the thought, he'd like to avoid any additional eating if possible.

Urokodaki also supplied them with a specialty box made of a strong, light-weight wood to carry Tanjiro during their travels as Demon Slayers. The siblings teared up at that, Urokodaki truly believed they would make it, and specifically made this to protect Tanjiro. With the upcoming Final Selection due to start soon, Urokodaki sent the pair on their way.

Watching them fade into the distance after two years of their company, Urokodaki felt a part of his heart go with them.

Just like the rest.

Chapter Text

The siblings spent most of the journey in companiable silence, Tanjiro always more subdued when close to sunlight, and Nezuko a bubbly mix or excitement and nerves. This is what they trained for; they were finally becoming Demon Slayers!

All they had to do was survive a week on a demon-infested mountain which kept them caged in with wisteria. Whilst Tanjiro steered clear of other candidates to avoid being slain himself.

Just as simple as that.

She thought back to her encounter with a demon at that temple and the overwhelming panic she’d felt facing the thing. Its immense strength and ferocity, its jagged, feral grin as it rushed her regardless of any injury it sustained.

There would be more of them, stronger ones, awaiting her in the selection. Two years of training culminated to this moment. She’d proven herself ready.

Placing one foot in front of another, knowing she’d face them again, made the trip drag on and fly by at the same time.

Approaching the base of the Mt Fujikasane, the trees became dense enough to shelter Tanjiro from the fading sun. Nezuko released him from the box so he could walk beside her. They’d arrived early for the test to give her time to grant Tanjiro access to the mountaintop through a secret passageway.

Since Urokodaki had captured demons in the past for Final Selection, he had told her in detail how to find and open this hidden entrance, a way in and out only a human could open due to the wisteria wound around it.

“I can smell flowers ahead, we’re nearly there.” Nezuko nodded, not trusting herself to sound confident in her reply.

Darkening forest trees gave way to reveal luminous flowers ahead of them, both becoming entranced by their ethereal beauty. Tanjiro, still in toddler form, raced towards the glowing trees without hesitation, a look of wonder on his face.

He promptly passed out and faceplanted from his proximity to the flowers. Nezuko snorted; they’d been told this would happen. He would recover fully once he gained some distance from the plants.

Following Urokodaki’s directions, she opened the passage and carried her brother’s small body through. Laying him on the grass inside the testing grounds with his sword and mask, she eyed the foreboding woods which dissolved into darkness. Seeing he was woozily coming to, she turned to leave; she didn’t have much time to enter herself with the other candidates.

“Good luck Tanjiro,” she said closing the entrance and trapping him within.

Hiding the box in the shrubbery and donning her fox mask, she followed the ring of wisteria trees around to the official entrance point.

The trellised trees and their drooping racemes fragrantly filled the surroundings with an air of magic. The flowers glowed under the moonlight, hypnotically swaying in the light breeze with the gentle rustle of leaves. She ran up the stone steps to find the young twins who were their guides, partway through explaining the Final Selection process. She lingered near the back of the other candidates, trying not to draw attention to her lateness.

She entered with the others, their silhouettes disappearing through the trees.

Seven days. Above all else, she just needed to survive.

Tanjiro and herself had agreed to not stick together for the whole of the Final Selection as this was a test of their own skills. If they came across each other or battled the same demon that was fine, but overall, they wouldn’t prioritise finding and protecting the other whilst on the mountain.

She would do this on her own, by her own steel.

She tried not to jump at every sound of the forest, she refused to fear the demons she would inevitably face in the next few nights. She had her training and her sword, she had all she needed to succeed.

Dashing between trees and hopping over logs, she paused in an unnaturally silent part of the woods. Unsheathing her blade with a metallic ting, she spun to parry the outstretched claws of a pouncing demon. Watching its movements, her body naturally initiated the best Water Breathing technique for the situation. She threaded herself around it, using her smaller size and faster speed to duck and weave in a dance she controlled. As the opening thread pulled taut, she twirled, putting her full body behind her swing to slash through its neck.

Skidding to a stop, she watched it disintegrate to ash, erased from existence completely.

She pressed on.

She followed her plan for the first few days; reaching the easternmost side of the mountain defeating any demon she found and gathering resources along the way until sunrise. Then she’d treat any wounds in the safety of the daylight and chase the sun back to the western side of the grounds and sleep until sunset. The creeping chill in the air signalling the start of another night of running and fighting. The cycle would be repeated up to the selection’s conclusion.

All was going well until she felt the ground shake. It was no earthquake. A huge demon, one that resembled a disfigured knot of limbs lumbered through the forest. All the demons she’d faced so far were vaguely humanoid, so predicting this one’s movements would be harder. She hid in the trees unsure what to do. Survival came first, but so far, she hadn’t hesitated taking on any demon she crossed paths with. And all demons she killed equalled others’ lives saved. Am I ready to take on one like this?

The decision was made for her as arms shot out of the pulsating flesh pile to grab a fellow Demon Slayer trainee who’d been trying to escape it, she wouldn’t hide there and watch someone die. Breaking her cover, she flipped and sliced through the discoloured appendages, freeing the boy trapped within them who immediately fled the scene.

Not very helpful of them.

The demon surprisingly paused upon seeing her, asking for the date of all things? Then it mentioned Urokodaki capturing it 47 years ago and eating 13 children he’d sent to Final Selection. Those children, who he’d put all his teachings and love into, devoured by this thing over a grudge. He couldn’t have known; he’d unintentionally marked them for death trying to give them the best protection he could. The Corps had to know of this, having supplied the demons and monitored their numbers on this mountain over the years. The Demon Slayer Corps saw it fine to break the heart of her mentor repeatedly feeding the children he loved to this monstrosity.

She felt tears in her eyes thinking about her mentor waiting alone on his mountain each time for his thirteen other children to return. Her sadness quickly turned to anger, her fiery temper getting the better of her.

This went beyond the test, she couldn’t stand for this bloodbath to continue!

With a cry, she charged it, dodging arms and severing hands in her beeline for the grotesque tower of flesh that had to have a neck in it. It spawned even more arms from its sides, now coming at her from all directions.

She’d gotten too close to avoid them all.

Wanting to end it so fast, she hadn’t followed her weave, she became too predictable! A giant fist raced towards her, batting her from the air like a fly. She tumbled, tucking to minimise damage but she’d surely hit a tree at high speeds. She closed her eyes and braced for impact.

She heard a sickening thud that didn’t come from her. Uncurling, she saw her brother out cold, his fox mask he’d fastened to the side of his head to not block his sense of smell shattered on the ground. Blood trickled down from his hairline; he’d caught her at the last second to take the collision. And it was quite the impact to injure a head as hard as his.

She felt shame; her brother had been hurt over her recklessness, to protect her.

“Two foxes this year! What a treat! Last time this happened was when I faced that scarred pink-haired brat, my greatest challenger yet! And you little girl fox remind me of the pint-sized flowery one! They truly were the most satisfying to eat.”

Though she and Tanjiro had deduced their friends from Mount Sagiri were spirits, it still hurt deeply to hear about their fate from their killer no less. Why must it sound so gleeful about it?

She had to keep calm and concentrate! She studied the demon, looking for the opening thread. It was tangled something fierce. Interlaced between the numerous threads of the arm’s movements, it looped around in a three-dimensional death cage.

Nezuko would count herself a rather skilled seamstress, she would detangle and follow this thread to its source. String was a precious commodity and she disliked letting it break. This can't be harder than that one particular time unknotting Hanako’s hair from tree sap.

That was a feat of precision and endurance.

She flipped and twirled, pushing off trees and tucking and rolling out of its reach. Arms were continuously cut down and regenerated, but the thread to its neck became clearer as she went.

Like a needle she pushed through, small but sharp, running up an arm to deliver a precise blow with all her strength, the demon’s toxic yellow eyes bulging in shock.

She alighted on the forest floor, its large body crumbling behind her. Upon its beheading, all her anger had been replaced with sadness. As much as she had hated the thing, it had once been a human, like her brother.

A human being had been mutilated and reduced to this, mindlessly eating, stuck in an endless hell. The only mercy she could give was the swift severing of their head and a quick prayer.

She held its his hand as he died, and seeing his tears, she cried too.

She hoped Sabito, Makomo, the rest of Urokodaki’s children, the others, and finally and human-turned-demon, could all find their peace now.

“It smelled so sad.”

Nezuko turned to see Tanjiro getting to his feet, wiping the blood from his healed forehead unto his sleeve. She squeezed him tight as he patted her hair like he did when she cried when they were younger. She couldn’t allow that to happen to Tanjiro, to crumble to nothingness with the world cursing his existence. To be a demon was to suffer, she had to help him however she could. She had to cure him.

He hugged her until she stopped trembling, then she looked up to see his smile.

“Well done defeating that demon, I only woke up near the end and-“

“Were you following me?” Now his smile turned sheepish.

“Well…”

“Tanjiro.”

“But I didn’t interfere with any of your fights! It’s just that large one, and I smelt it coming and you looked like you were in trouble-“

“Thank you.” Seeing him beam at her, fangs and all, brought light into the dark forest. And speaking of light, the sun had begun to rise and she felt an overwhelming wave of relief. She could rest now.

Only a Demon Slayer felt such euphoria at a sunrise.

Tanjiro accompanied her to the edge of the shade. Nezuko gave him her warding mask to wear, seeing as she’d got his broken. Though he’d protested, he accepted it, saying he’d give it back at the end of the test. With a cheery wave, he vanished into the shadows.

For Tanjiro, the Final Selection had been a challenge in ways he hadn’t expected. With his nose, he could easily have avoided any confrontations with either demons or humans, staying out of their path the instance he sensed them. It would be the safe option with no fighting and need to hide he was a demon. He could go through the week without a soul knowing he was on the mountain.

Knowing others were out there, scared and fighting for their lives, he simply couldn’t sit back and not help them. During the daytime, he would track down and defeat any demons he found. He stayed near the middle of the selection area as the overpowering perfume of the wisteria muddled his senses. Sunlight didn’t penetrate through the canopy here either, demons roaming freely regardless of time of day. Whilst the others got to rest in the sun, Tanjiro was never safe from the demons around him.

Once the sun set, he followed Nezuko from a distance. He felt guilty about it, however he couldn’t stop himself doing it. As the days went on, he found himself drifting further away, confident in her abilities. The nights were a sensory overload. Scents of demons, humans, wisteria and blood intermixed in a toxic cocktail. Screams, snarls, rustling, clanging, the sounds of fights in the distance, too many to save them all.

The horrible silence that followed pressed in on him.

Smelling human blood nearby the night after the hand demon encounter, he rushed in its direction, begging to be fast enough to help whoever was hurt. Pulling Nezuko’s mask over his face, he arrived on the scene, finding a frightened Demon Slayer, fear pouring off them as they barely dodged a feral demon pouncing wildly at them. Their right arm bore deep claw marks, blood soaking into their torn sleeve. Sword in their left hand, they held it unsteadily towards the demon preparing another lunge.

In its single-minded ferocity, it didn’t notice Tanjiro until it was beheaded mid-jump. The girl watched in astonishment as its body landed at her feet. Adrenaline depleted, she collapsed to her knees in the leaflitter, staring blankly of the demon’s disintegrating form as Tanjiro knelt by her side.

“You’re hurt! Here, I have this ointment my master gave me! It’s great for all sorts of injuries!” He retrieved the ointment container and some bandages from his clothes. Not needing them himself, he liked to carry medical supplies in case of times like this. As she pulled up the remains of her sleeve, he gritted his teeth at the fresh wave of intoxicating scent.

Grabbing the ointment, he opened it and smeared some underneath his nose, the strong herbal smell masking that of the blood to his relief.

“Did you just eat it?” The girl was now looking up at him in confusion.

“What? No! I mean- uh I was checking it was still good?” That sounded silly even to him but too late… Wincing in pain as she shifted her arm, the moment was forgotten as he started treating the wounds.

Fastening the bandage, he sighed in relief. His nails were a bit longer than normal -even for his usual demon form- but he’s sure it went unnoticed and he stayed in control. He discretely wiped the ointment from his face, feeling vulnerable when unable to smell his surrounds.

“Thank you.” The Demon Slayer looked at him with a watery smile before it collapsed under a wave of emotion. “I- I thought I was going to die. And after everything, I was as helpless as I was before! It all would’ve been for nothing!” Tanjiro couldn’t help but think of Nezuko who was about the same age, superimposed over the Demon Slayer before him. The idea of her dying alone, after only wanting to help people, feeling as if she’d failed everyone to her last breath, he couldn’t stand it!

“You’re not helpless; being brave enough to come here is impressive in itself. You’ve got through most of the selection already too! If you don’t feel ready to be a Demon Slayer after this, there’s more training you could do to prepare yourself further. Or if you never want to pick up a sword again that’s also okay. There’s other things you can do with your life. You just have to survive until then. Not much longer.” Swivelling to the side, he smelt some Demon Slayers not far from them. “There’s others close by; I can take you to them.”

“You don’t want to join up too?”

“I left my sister behind, I need to find her.” He really couldn’t join them, as much as he wanted to. Anyone would find it suspicious not wanting to enter the sunlight during the day.

“Thank you, truly. For going out of your way for me.” She got up, slowly rotating her shoulder and flexing her injured arm. Luckily the cuts wouldn’t overly stretch with movement, and the ointment had a numbing effect. She’d be able to function until she could get proper care.

“You’re welcome! Let’s hurry, in case they move away.” Sheathing their swords, they ran towards the group of Demon Slayers, Tanjiro waving her goodbye then departing in the opposite direction before he got too close.

With all the death and despair on this mountain, he hoped he made a lasting difference to the people he could help.

The rest of Final Selection went without issue for Nezuko, no demon she encountered being as formidable as the hand demon. The constant cycle of running, fighting, and nursing wounds was wearing her down though, and by the time the seven days were up, she felt dead on her feet.

As the sun rose signalling the trial’s end, Nezuko passed through the edge of the winding wisteria boughs where she found the two guides waiting and a dozen other surviving candidates. Though it was petty, she gave the stink eye to the boy who ditched her when she was fighting the large demon. He uncomfortably looked anywhere but at her.

While the shadows were still long, Tanjiro ran to the edge of the forest as far from the wisteria whilst still in eyesight, fox mask covering his face, and bowed to the guides before he retreated into the trees. He wanted to see who’d made it, and was overjoyed to see the girl he’d helped earlier amongst them. He sneezed under his mask; standing even that close to the wisteria made him feel numb and light-headed.

Seeing him stumble away awkwardly, Nezuko couldn’t help but snort at his antics.

“Who was that? Another candidate? The meeting point is this way! Where are they going!?” a boy in yellow exclaimed though no one answered him.

Once all the survivors had made it to safety, they were led back to the tori gates.

The guides explained the Demon Corps structure and ranking before ‘engraving’ their rank into their hand. Aside from smelling like wisteria, she couldn’t see any marking and took their word for it. They recorded everyone’s measurements and preferences for their uniforms, much to one of the candidate’s growing impatience before crows descended from the trees to perch on their shoulders.

Except for the boy in yellow who got a sparrow? With how scared he looked at it, maybe he was lucky it wasn’t a crow.

The guides then explained their assigned Kasugai crow’s purpose though Nezuko was zoning out. She’d met and sent letters by Urokodaki’s crow so this wasn’t news to her. The annoyed boy from before got her attention by advancing on the guides and grabbing one by the hair. Nezuko zipped forward and grabbed him in an instant.

“Let go of them.” He looked about to shout at her, but upon turning to see who grabbed him, he growled and slunk away to the back of the group. Odd.

Finally, they got to choosing their ore. Nezuko picked one at random; they all looked the same to her and as long as it was crimson ore, the sword would serve her just fine.

Some more explaining, congratulations and pleasantries are given, before the other candidates dispersed, leaving Nezuko alone with the guides.

“Hello there! I take it that you received a letter from my cultivator Urokodaki?”

“That is correct,” the black-haired one replied.

“Great!” Nezuko handed them a paper with Tanjiro’s measurements for his uniform Urokodaki had taken earlier. She was happy he did; Tanjiro had looked pale and unstable on his feet when on the other side of the clearing from the wisteria; the less time he spent around it the better. And the less time around other Demon Slayers the safer he was.

“I’ll go choose an ore for my brother and we’ll share a crow as we will be doing all our missions together.” She grabbed and set aside another rock from the table. “His sword and uniform can be sent to the same location as mine.”

The guides smiled at her serenely. She’d take that as they understood. Bowing to them one last time, she left to retrieve Tanjiro.

Passing through the secret entrance, she saw Tanjiro waiting on the other side. At her appearance, he rushed over and hugged her fiercely, so proud and so glad she was alright. Or mostly alright as she had a slight hobble and numerous smaller injuries he could see. Wanting to leave the mountain immediately, he shrunk down and she carried him through the passageway, setting him down near the box as she flopped down beside him.

Woozily coming to, Tanjiro slowly grew to his regular size, looking strained from the effort.

“Sorry I took so long up there, I had to wait until the others departed to talk privately with the guides.”

He nodded tiredly in response. Getting up, the two of them walked in a comfortable silence, one in the fading sunlight, the other off to the side in the shadows of the trees. Nezuko’s pace slowed as they descended the mountain due to her exhaustion and injuries much to Tanjiro’s worry. They stuck to the tree line so Nezuko wouldn’t have to carry Tanjiro, but this made their route longer and arduous with her stumbling gait. Once it was dark enough for Tanjiro to leave the cover of the forest, he slung the box he’d been carrying onto his front before crouching down and beckoning Nezuko over.

“Are you sure? I know you’re tired too and I can handle it.”

“I’ll be fine,” he assured, though she could hear his exhaustion seeping through. “And I want to. This way we can travel fast during the night and we should reach Urokodaki before midnight.”

“Okay.” In her fatigue, she didn’t need convincing. They could both rest well once they got back and they didn’t want to leave their mentor worrying. Mindful of her injuries, he gently picked her up in a piggyback and set off in a light jog, making their way home.

Nodding off on his shoulder, Nezuko awoke as Tanjiro’s strides becoming uneven. He’d pushed himself hard this last week, having no break in the sunlight to sleep, demons constantly finding and attacking him. Surrounded by wisteria, having nothing to eat, having to hide from anyone he came across. He must be exhausted.

Hearing him sniff, she looked up to see Urokodaki’s house lit up at a distance and tears welled in her eyes, they were nearly home. Tanjiro carried her to the house, Urokodaki appearing in the entryway to greet them. Setting her down gently, he leant on the box, legs too unstable to get back up. Urokodaki knelt down in the dirt and encased both of them in his arms, tears of his own slipping past his mask.

“The both of you came back alive,” he rasped, his emotion leaking through. The three of them hugged each other, for once crying tears of joy.

Chapter Text

They had about two more weeks at Urokodaki’s house as they awaited the arrival of their uniforms and swords. In this time, the two of them prepared for their journey into the outside world as official Demon Slayers. Nezuko converted her beloved pink kimono into a haori to take a piece of her past with her. She also planned to use parts of her checkered obi to strap the bottom of her uniform pants; checker pattern was a Kamado family tradition and she wanted to have something that matched her brother’s haori.

“I wanted to buy you a new one,” Tanjiro said wistfully as he eyed the pink material. As much as he wanted to replace her old kimono, he felt a little sad to see it gone. Nezuko sighed as she fastened her long hair into a tight bun.

“Well, until you’re human again and we can leave the Corps, I won’t have any use for a kimono.”

“I’ll buy you an amazing one when that day comes.”

“And I’ll buy you the largest feast I can! With anything you want.” The cheery thought of that future filled them with conviction.

For the journey, Tanjiro would take his checkered haori and scarf, leaving his earrings in Urokodaki’s care. He fastened the white flame clip back into his fringe; he hadn’t taken it to Final Selection with the mask keeping his hair back in its place. His hair was still just a short ponytail, not growing longer even as he held the appearance of looking older. He also left Nezuko’s mask with Urokodaki, it and his earrings sitting together like mementos of their stay here. A letter sat underneath them in which he tried to express how much Urokodaki meant to the two of them.

They’d never be able to thank the man enough for all he’s done for them.

The night they returned, they recounted their time in Final Selection to him. How Tanjiro immediately went against their agreement and followed her, and what happened with the hand demon. They left out any mention of the masks or the past children’s fates. They didn’t mention it was a demon Urokodaki had captured either. They didn’t know if he knew but on the chance he didn’t, they wouldn’t cause him unnecessary pain.

Finishing their story, Urokodaki warned them they’d encounter demons with even stranger and more powerful abilities than that mutated demon, but that he had confidence the two of them would be fine.

With Urokodaki treating Nezuko’s wounds and giving her hearty meals, she recovered quickly and was back to full strength and performing drills as per usual. Tanjiro also went out to eat, coming back shaky but feeling better. He didn’t hide when he did this from Nezuko anymore, but cleaned up meticulously to remove any evidence of it. She sat by him and leant on his shoulder when he returned, having someone around always helped him feel better.

On the fifteenth day since Final Selection, a man wearing a hat with many wind chimes dangling from the brim approached the mountain.

Tanjiro smelt him from a distance and entered the house through the back where the shadows connected the building to the forest, Nezuko following behind him. After the few times he’d suffered sunlight burns from his carelessness, Tanjiro knew what times of day he could move safely from different sections of the mountain to others.

No matter how often he traversed thin pathways of shade and stood close to the boundaries of safety and sunlight, he couldn’t rid himself of the frantic fear that overtook him at the proximity. Moving around sunlight felt like precariously balancing on a narrow ledge overhanging a cliff. All the time.

Fear of sunlight aside, he carefully opened the door and remained in the shelter of the house as the delicate, rhythmic chiming approached. He wrapped his scarf around the lower half of his face to hide his teeth. Apart from Nezuko and Urokodaki, he hadn’t been in close contact with many humans in the past two years. While he was nervous, the mysterious stranger who smelled strongly of a forge excited him. They likely had their swords.

The man introduced himself and said as such. In turn Tanjiro introduced himself and invited him inside, partly from politeness, partly because he was unable to go outside to him. Nezuko tried valiantly to hold back her laughter as Tanjiro tried desperately to invite Haganezuka inside as the man instead monologued about swords.

Tanjiro stepped back is surprise as the man got up into his face, a windchime bouncing off his head. This man also wore a mask, its bulging eyes staring intently at him. Tanjiro fidgeted under his inspection. Did he see my fangs?

Instead to man started going on about his hair and eye colour oddly enough and what colour his sword would turn.

At least he had come inside.

Nezuko, Tanjiro, Urokodaki and Haganezuka sat together on the floor, their guest vibrating with anticipation of the prospect of seeing a red blade. It reminded the siblings of when Hanako had checked a bird’s nest near their home hourly to see if the eggs had hatched. They couldn’t help feeling a little excited too at his ramblings.

Haganezuka had also brought their uniforms for them, throwing the bags haphazardly in their direction before quickly getting back to unpackaging their swords.

Nezuko went first, unsheathing her blade which turned a light, frosty blue with faint blotches of pink. It made her think of plum blossoms in the snow. Tanjiro and her marvelled at it in awe.

“A fine colour, the blue signifies your affinity with Water Breathing.” Urokodaki told them.

Tanjiro took the sheathed blade thrust in his direction and without delay, drew his sword.

He looked at it in his clawed hand, as a stygian black stained the blade’s surface like ink into water. Does it not work for demons?

“Pitch black,” Urokodaki stated calmly, “It’s rare to see a sword of that colour.” Tanjiro sighed in relief; though his colouration wasn’t as stunning as Nezuko’s, he hadn’t ruined his blade. His relief ended when Haganezuka tackled him to the floor, furious at not seeing a red sword.

Does he know I’m a demon? Would he even care!? That last thought would’ve been quite refreshing if he wasn’t being held in a headlock.

Their Kasugai crow Matsuemon interrupted the tussle bringing news of their first mission as Demon Slayers. Nezuko pulled the swordsmith off her brother as they had to leave immediately.

Thanking Haganezuka before he left, even as he poked at Tanjiro petulantly, the two gathered their things, taking extra care to wrap the blood transfusion kit, and packed them in the box. Changing into their uniforms and fastening their new swords to their belts, they looked at each other and felt reminded of Tomioka on that fateful day. They stood by the door ready for departure.

The mountain was a safe place for Tanjiro – its only occupants knowing about his condition and it had plenty of trees for shade so he could walk freely during the day. In their travels, he’d be a burden on Nezuko, needing to be carried, hidden, explained away, fed. From taking care of their family after their father died, and being an older brother to five, he wasn’t used to this level of dependency.

Whenever his expression showed any level of guilt at feeling like a burden, Nezuko would throw back at him her argument that if things had been reversed, he would’ve done this for her.

Or she’d kick him in the shins. And Nezuko’s kicks hurt.

The thought brought a smile to his face.

They would stick together, helping each other however they could.

They looked around the house one last time, they likely wouldn’t see it any time soon but promised themselves they would return here. At the very least, they’d keep Urokodaki updated on their travels through letters. Hugging their teacher goodbye, Tanjiro shrunk down and fitted himself into the box. Nezuko knew she’d be a lot more scared and nervous to be going out to fight supernatural beings if she didn’t have Tanjiro by her side. With him, he was her company, her comrade, her purpose. Her family.

Though she was now a Demon Slayer assigned to kill demons and save lives, just as she wanted, she never forgot her personal goal; to cure her brother.

Hoisting the box onto her shoulders, Nezuko reflected back on her journey here, struggling to run with him in their coal basket. She still felt the additional weight, however she knew she could keep a steady pace throughout the day.

Urokodaki adjusted her clothes and patted her shoulders awkwardly. She just went in for a hug which he returned.

With a final wave, she set off after the crow.

Kazumi wondered if the lack of sleep had made him snap. Satoko missing, wandering the streets since daybreak looking for her, punched by her father, he now found himself following after a girl who talks to a box on her back.

He’s pretty sure he heard it respond too.

He’d definitely lost it.

He drifted in this state, answering her questions on his fiancé’s disappearance, as he watched her pause around street corners and consult her box. She seemed to be humouring him so he continued humouring her.

It’s not like he felt he had anything better to do.

The girl was odd; dressed in some type of uniform, with two swords (who gave her a sword?), and a bit young to be travelling alone. Yet she acted like she knew what was going on. She spoke of demons.

As the sky darkened, he started to worry for her safety, all those who had gone missing each night were around her age. She seemed determined to keep investigating into the night and though he wasn’t able to protect Satoko last night, he couldn’t leave this girl to roam the streets unaccompanied either.

If anything, her search picked up the darker it got.

“Straight ahead! Run!” shouted a muffled voice from her back. What!?

Suddenly she took off at a sprint, he could barely keep her in sight as he followed. She took to the rooftops, hopping along as if it came naturally. He was starting to feel like she was the real deal, an actual Demon Slayer, and that she would be protecting him, not the other way around.

He caught up as she stabbed the dirt with her sword, stupefying him as she pulled a girl from the darkness erupting from the ground. A horned figure appeared from the hidden depths of the abyss, producing a painful screeching sound with its jagged teeth. He guessed this was a demon.

“Kazumi! You’re much more reliable than that Demon Slayer candidate was! Here, take this girl and stay near; the demon will be back.” Feeling a bit more useful now, he followed close behind.

Her reaction time was impressive, she sprung into the air as now three demons lunged at her. Oh god, now there’s three of them!? She slashed at them, driving them into the ground. This continued, her fighting them off, him trying to stay near but not inhibit her.

The demons started bickering over eating the girl in his arms, the one with the sword, and all the other girls who’d gone missing. No…

“Satako… You monster give her back!” She can’t be gone. She can’t be gone! It flaunted a collection of hairpins as trophies of its kills. She’s gone…

“Just like the fox masks…” he heard the girl mutter, “Demons with their sick games and perverted preferences, toying with others’ lives.” Her box growled.

“You can join the collection too,” one of the demons leered to her, “Though your ribbon is so plain. But you…The ripe and tender flesh of a young girl, delightful!” It roared, another appearing and reaching for her from behind.

Kazumi watched on in terror, unable to do a thing as-

As a boy burst out of her box and headbutted the offending thing away.

“Hands off my sister!”

The boy- a demon? Her brother, was seething; slit pupils, fangs bared, yet Kazumi only felt an air of protectiveness from him, not the danger exuding from the other demon.

He also felt his emotions had run ragged after the day he’s had, unable to fully process what’s going on anymore.

He held onto the girl in his arms tighter.

The girl with the sword threw her spare to the boy and they guarded him on either side. Their movements flowed together seamlessly; each knowing the other’s actions inherently as they fended off the three demons. However, with the three clearly outmatched, they played it defensively, making it difficult for the pair to land decisive blows.

Sharing a nod, the boy from the box dived into the darkness after one of the demons, leaving the girl to defend on the surface. With only one to fight, she kept it from escaping into the ground and incapacitated it easily, the demon falling to the ground lacking its limbs.

“I have some questions for you,” she said in a brittle tone. Her brother emerged from the murky ground unscathed.

“Well I don’t answer to you! You’re nothing but a soft piece of meat to be-“ The demon’s mouth was sliced in two. The girl looked unimpressed.

“Brother, now how is it going to answer?”

“He’ll heal,” he said regrettably. The girl sighed.

“You answer to Muzan Kibutsuji, correct? Tell me about them.” For how terrifying the demon was earlier, it trembled in fear at her repeated questioning, refusing to answer. Launching a final attack at her, she beheaded it swiftly, it turning to ash. Upon its destruction, the night was silent. The siblings sheathed their swords.

It was as if the demon hadn’t existed, no remains were left. He wished he could pretend the vile thing never existed. But there was nothing left of Satoko either. He sagged, starting the cry.

The boy approached with the demon’s hairpin collection, containing the one Satoko was wearing that night. He handed it to him carefully with his claws.

“Kazumi, please take that girl home and present these to the families for closure.”

“Closure!? They don’t want closure! I don’t want closure! I wanted to marry her! I-“ He stopped his shouting, seeing both of the Demon Slayers looking on in sorrow. A shared grief.

“The demon is gone now. That’s all we could do,” the girl said starting to walk off, “Take her home, take yourself home, and keep going, that’s all you can do.” The pair of them were leaving now, job clearly done, but there was no air of accomplishment.

“I’m sorry for shouting at you! Thank you!” He cried. They waved back, disappearing into the night.