Chapter Text
There are eight Hashiras in the Demon Slayer corps. There is the Water Hashira; Giyu Tomioka, the Love Hashira; Mitsuri Kanroji, the Serpent Hashira; Obanai Iguro, the Wind Hashira; Sanemi Shinazugawa, the Stone Hashira; Gyomei Himajima, the Sound Hashira; Tengen Uzui, the Mist Hashira; Muichiro Tokito, and the Insect Hashira, Shinobu Kocho. There are eight Hashiras—or so people believe.
Kagaya Ubuyashiki, the leader and founder of the Demon Slayer corps, found talent in two. He found them traveling alone, in the woods full of demons, no less. They faced the demons with great power and courage. Those two were Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji. They traveled from China all the way to Japan for a vacation, and even after finding out how dangerous Japan currently was, they still decided to stay. Wei Wuxian’s idea.
They had the potential to become Hashira. Oyakata-sama didn’t even need to test them. All he had to do was look at them fight and he knew instantly that they could easily climb the ranks. Defeat one of the Twelve Demon Moons? Never mind that. They could do so much more.
Almost instantly, Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji became the newest Hashiras. The Demon Hashira; Wei Wuxian and the Soul Hashira; Lan Wangji. Today, they are finally showing themselves to the demon slayers of the corp.
The demon slayers piled near the building where Oyakata-sama would usually make his announcements.
“Have you heard? There will be two new Hashiras announced today!”
“Seriously?!! Who are they?”
“Apparently they came from China!”
“I heard that they’re super old, too!”
“What? Like, forty or something?”
“No, no, don’t be rude guys. They’re gonna show up anyway. We can ask them later.”
“I bet they’re super scary. Ya know, like all the other Hashiras.”
“Oh, don’t be such a bad sport. We never know.”
“I’m actually so excited!!”
The murmurs of uncertainty and excitement died down as the eight Hashiras made their way through the crowd to stand in the front. As they saw their leader enter from the shadows, they stood in respectful stances, waiting for him to begin.
“Good morning, my dear children. How has your day been?”
Mitsuri beams. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Oyakata-sama!”
“Today, I shall introduce you to two new Hashiras, Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji. Please kindly welcome them into the Corps.”
“We welcome Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji, the newest Hashiras into the Demon Slayer corps.”
From that day on, there were ten Hashiras.
__________
Tanjiro thinks it’s ironic. A Hashira who kills demons, yet is named the “Demon Hashira”. And the funniest thing is—he doesn’t even use a katana! He uses a flute—a dizi he calls Chenqing. It’s made of smooth, black bamboo decorated with a green jade pendant tied with red thread. Tanjiro doesn’t know what he uses it for, but he finds the choice of weapon… peculiar, to say the least.
The Soul Hashira, Lan Wangji, is the complete opposite of the Demon Hashira. He’s quiet, reserved, and looks like the most studious person Tanjiro has ever met—while the Demon Hashira is loud, mischievous, and somewhat obnoxious at times.
The Soul Hashira uses an instrument that he calls a “guqin”. It’s big and blue with strings on it. The strangest thing is, it appears out of nowhere! He also uses a sword-like weapon but it looks nothing like a katana at all. It’s fancy and very sturdy, light blue like the rest of his color scheme, and has expensive-looking silver designs around the hilt. His entire demeanor screams “don’t touch me” in 20 different languages.
They are as different as Yin and Yang, but they balance each other out perfectly. He guesses that’s the purpose of Yin and Yang, anyway.
Some demon slayers are a bit puzzled by the fact that they don’t even need to kill 50+ demons or a Kizuki in order to be in such a high spot in the corps. Tanjiro is just intrigued by the fact that Oyakata-sama assigned them to be Hashira. They must be very powerful then, he thinks. I can’t wait to talk to them!
Today, Tanjiro, Inosuke, and Zenitsu are going to a nearby forest to slay demons. And—you guessed it. Wei-senpai and Hanguang-Jun (as they instructed him to call them) are tagging along. Well, it’s mostly Wei-senpai forcing Hanguang-Jun to go with him. Tanjiro’s actually surprised by how easily Hanguang-Jun agreed, especially since his expression is always so cold and stony like jade.
“So,” Wei-senpai starts cheerfully, trying to ease the tension around them. “Why did y'all join the Demon Slayer corps?”
Tanjiro and his friends look at each other anxiously, wondering how to answer. They each told their backstories and were impressed by how long Wei-senpai can stay quiet and listen.
“Then… can you tell us why you and Hanguang-Jun joined the corps, Wei-senpai?” Tanjiro asks after they all got their turn.
Wei-senpai taps his flute on his chin and pretends to think hard. “Me and Lan Zhan? Well…” he turns to them and winks with a cheeky grin. “We joined for fun.”
Zenitsu frowns at that. “For fun?!!” he screeches, his tone makes him sound obviously angry. “How can you join the corps for fun?! Do you know how hard we all worked to get here, much less try to become Hashira?! We risk our lives to fight demons and protect ourselves, yet you two march in and immediately become Hashira just like that?!! And all of this is just for fun?!!!!”
Everyone pauses to look at him. Zenitsu huffs and gives them “the look”.
“S-sorry about that,” Tanjiro apologizes for him. “He just got carried away. Sorry…”
Wei-senpai just laughs and gently pats his head with his flute. “No, no. You have a point, kid,” he replies good-naturedly. “I definitely overlooked your hard work by saying that. Sorry!”
The tension finally eases a bit after that, but Inosuke still can’t help the fact that he, a FIFTEEN YEAR OLD boy, has just been called a kid by someone who doesn’t look much older than he is.
“Kid? What do you mean kid?!” Inosuke says in that rough voice he always uses. “How old are you to call me “kid”? Do you know who you’re talking to??” He shuts up at Hanguang-Jun’s unexpected glare.
Wei-senpai just laughs whole-heartedly as if he’s already taken many insults like this—some possibly even worse. “How old I am? Hmm…” He sneaks a glance at Hanguang-Jun as if he forgot his own age. Seriously, Tanjiro knows that Wei-senpai is careless, but he never knew that he is that careless! Who in their right mind would forget their own age??
“I’m—” he finally replies after a while. “—35! Quite old for you guys, amiright?”
“What?! That’s actually really old! You look 24 at the most!”
“Even if I am 24, I would still be older than you and most of the Hashiras as well! Other than Lan Zhan of course, haha.”
Tanjiro can’t help but notice the way Hanguang-Jun looks at Wei-senpai. With soft, pale eyes full of satisfaction; gentle and happy. Completely different from how he would look at other people. Even if Wei-senpai is talking complete gibberish, Hanguang-Jun would still stare at him patiently. He can’t really use the right word to describe it. Or, he’s just trying not to.
Their conversation stops immediately when a rustle of leaves initiate near them. It’s only happening at one bush at first, but soon, all the plants around them start to tremble. A bead of sweat slides down his face as Tanjiro tightens his grip around his katana’s hilt. He gets into a low stance and scans his surroundings.
He takes a quick glance at Wei-senpai and Hanguang-Jun. Neither of them look agitated in the least. They don’t look any different than when they were having a conversation with them, nor do they have their hands ready to wield their weapons.
Then all is quiet. Tanjiro doesn’t dare relax, though. Demons—especially intelligent ones—love to ambush when their target is least expecting it. They tend to give a little scare before making their move. Tanjiro frowns. He can’t help but wonder when the Hashiras next to him will actually get serious. As of now, they look like they’re just enjoying the scenery of the forest.
Finally. The demon pounces from the trees above them and dives down towards Zenitsu. Unable to raise his katana to block fast enough, he screams at the top of his lungs and fails to run. Inosuke, fast as always, pivots and leaps right back at the demon. His jagged blade makes a painful sound on the demon’s forearm, like a dull knife scratching on paper.
Tanjiro takes the opportunity while the demon staggers. It’s only a second, but his katana spins a full 180 and slices at the demon’s knees. First form: water surface slash! The demon’s arm is healed by now, and while Tanjiro’s blade is still slicing through its leg, the demon’s muscles are already growing back. He grits his teeth at the awful squelching of dead flesh and tries to remove his blade. The demon growls again and lifts a hand, ready to jab its sharp nails into Tanjiro’s throat.
In a flurry, Tanjiro is about to let go of his katana just to dodge the attack. A silver shine flies past the corner of his eyes before he does. Blood spurts all over the air as an indigo-gray blade pierces through the demon’s forehead.
“Dammit!” Tanjiro hears Inosuke shout from across the field. “I was aiming for the neck! Dammit!”
Luckily, that attack—even if it didn’t work out as planned—helped Tanjiro gain enough time to remove his katana from the demon’s leg. He leaps a few feet back to keep his distance. From their short fight, he can tell that this demon is more powerful than average.
“AAAHHH I DON’T WANNA DIE, DON’T WANNA DIIEEE!!” Zenitsu yells at the top of his lungs while kneeling on the ground with his arms covering his head. “WHY DID WE HAVE TO BUMP INTO SUCH A STRONG DAMN DEMON! WHY AM I SO UNLUCKY?! DAMMIT DAMMIT DAMMIIIIT!!!”
The demon takes a quick breath. It pulls Inosuke’s katana out of its skull and glares at them like they’re lowly beings, not even worthy of its presence. The muscles on its arm bulge and squirm like a parasite possessed it. Tanjiro sees Zenitsu grimace at the sight.
The demon lets out another threatening growl and hauls the katana back at them at an alarming speed—right at Tanjiro’s head. With one sharp movement, he raises his katana and watches, eyes wide, as the tip of Inosuke’s blade hits and bounces off the hilt of his sword. If he had raised his hand any higher, he would’ve lost a finger…
Inosuke dives at Tanjiro to pick up his katana. They’ve had multiple near-death experiences, yet their Hashira companions haven’t done a single thing! It’s making Tanjiro more and more curious each second. Why are they Hashira? What did Oyakata-sama see in them?
“Inosuke-kun!” Wei-senpai’s voice rings out in the air. “Bend your torso left! Aim left! Left!”
Tanjiro’s eyes defog as a sharp claw goes directly at his eye. Suddenly, all he sees is a flash of black and white, then a streak of quick red. At first, he thought it was his blood. The demon successfully punctured his eyeball and now he’s blind in one eye. He’s so shocked that the pain hasn’t hit him yet.
Out of sheer determination, he slowly opens his eyes. Even with only one eye, I can still fight, he tells himself. I can survive, even like this. To his surprise, no pain strikes him— he is completely untouched.
His gaze travels to where the two Hashiras have been standing this entire time. Wei-senpai now has a black haze surrounding him, along with his flute pointing directly at the demon. The red streak, which he assumes is probably what he saw earlier, slithers towards him like a snake. The flute reabsorbs the energy and Wei-senpai relaxes his stance again.
“So,” Wei-senpai begins. “Found anything yet, Lan Zhan?”
“Mn,” Hanguang-Jun answers, barely audible. “Became a demon at age 16. Has been a demon for 92 years. Name; Kamanue.”
Tanjiro gasps and turns his katana to the demon—Kamanue—again. He lets out another sharp intake of breath as he finds the Kamanue with all his limbs removed and half of his head gone, veins squiggling like worms trying to remake flesh and blood.
Did Wei-senpai do this? Tanjiro glances at the other demon slayers to make sure. They all seemed equally amazed. How? It was only a second! Did he really…
His attention travels back to the two Hashiras as Hanguang-Jun strums a long and powerful note on his guqin.
“Kamanue,” he begins, and pauses to pluck a few more strings. “Lower Moon 6. Replacement for former Lower Moon 6; Kyogai.”
How did—wait… Lower Moon 6? Kyogai?! Isn’t that the drum demon I fought in Tsuzumi Mansion? Tanjiro’s head hurt from the sudden load of information. How does Hanguang-Jun know this? Furthermore, we’ve been fighting a Kizuki this entire time?! How are we not dead yet…?
“I see,” Wei-senpai replies nonchalantly, as if fighting a demon part of the Twelve Kizuki wasn’t anything dangerous. Then he smiles, and it’s not one of those grins he uses when he teases the demon slayers. It’s a cunning and sadistic one, a smile that sends chills down Tanjiro’s spine. And he could’ve sworn that Wei-senpai’s eyes glowed a red hue.
“92 years?” Wei-senpai continues. “16 plus 92… if he was human, dear Kamanue would’ve been dead by now, right?”
“Mn.”
“Then this is easy.”
Wei-senpai lifts his flute to his lips and takes a deep breath. A shrill noise fills the air, quick and frantic with a tinge of chaos. He plays the same notes on loop for a few times then completely changes them up. Even though it seems like it is played on whim, Tanjiro can tell that this tune has been played many, many times. There’s even a hint of nostalgia to it. Wei-senpai once said that his flute’s name meant “nostalgia”. Maybe that’s why.
The black haze around Wei-senpai starts to sway with the tune, spiking at high pitches and swooping through the strands of his flowing hair. The black energy around him then zooms toward the demon, dragging Tanjiro’s attention along with it.
Kamanue really does deserve the name of Lower Moon 6. He’s already restored all his limbs and his head and is rising to his feet. Tanjiro prepares to attack but the black haze from Wei-senpai strikes first. It circles around him like a barrier, but instead of protecting him, it’s harming him.
The flute’s tune speeds up even more, so powerful and fast that Tanjiro can hear Wei-senpai’s fingers tapping furiously on the bamboo dizi.
The cracking of bones can be heard, loud and clear. Kamanue tries to cover his ears with his palms but his body says otherwise. He wails out in frustration but even that is silenced by Wei-senpai’s eerie music. His pupils start to roll upward, the resistance causing it to vibrate and shake. Though all of that is nothing to Wei-senpai. Instantly, the Kizuki is fully under his control.
Kamanue’s hands slowly rise to his neck. It grips it tightly, pulling on it like it’s drying a wet towel. Pulling, squeezing, scratching, until *crack* goes his entire neck. Having no neck to support it, his head falls limp on his shoulders. The hands are brought down as Wei-senpai’s music slows.
“Now, kids,” he commands. It’s the coldest voice Tanjiro has ever heard the Demon Hashira use. “Remove his head.”
Kamanue’s eyes are blown wide—surprised and horrified. There are tears of pain in his eyes, and it only makes Tanjiro wonder what had happened when his eyes were closed. It must’ve been horrible, given the expression on the demon’s face.
And now, Tanjiro understands.