Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

For what felt like a moment, or perhaps an eternity, there was a peaceful darkness. It was calming and quiet, safety within it, and no reason to leave such a tranquil state.

Ne…Nezu…

There was a voice.

Ne…N…uko…

No, another one.

Ne..Ne..ko, Nez…

Wake…now…Nez…ko, please…

Sis…Wake…Nezo…

Who were they?

And then a deeper voice broke through.

Nezuko, wake up. Your brother needs you.

With a gasp, Nezuko Kamado’s eyes flew open.

The first thing she did was sit up and take deep, frantic breaths that worked in tandem with her fast beating heart. Her gaze flickered around, taking in the snow-covered woodlands that were common in the winter season on the mountain her family lived on. The sky was grey with thick puffy clouds, lazy snowflakes falling from above. She thought she even heard a faint birdcall in the distance.

The scene would have been peaceful to wake up to if not for the fact that Nezuko had no idea why she was here.

What happened?

As her breaths became slower and the frigid air began to burn her lungs, Nezuko allowed one hand to clutch her chest while the other traveled to her sore throat, wincing slightly at how tender the skin felt.

Did someone choke me?

That didn’t really make sense to the young girl, as there was no one who lived up the mountain other than her family and Mr. Saburo, but even he lived near the bottom closer to town. Unless someone had robbed her, she couldn’t think of anyone else.

Nezuko suddenly noticed that the snow around her was greatly disturbed. There was a trail leading away from her that was still very fresh, meaning that she probably hadn’t been out for that long.

But that’s when she noticed something within it.

Blood.

Nezuko quickly examined herself, and felt her breathing pick back up again when she finally noticed that her haori and some of her pink kimono had spots of blood on them. They were small, and a part of her was relieved when she found that it wasn’t her blood. 

But other sensations were starting to come to her as well. The muscles in her arms and legs were sore as though she had been running and carrying something heavy. Her back ached and she had a slight headache. Even her eyes felt like they were burning like she had been crying.

A fight had certainly taken place.

And somehow she had been involved in it.

Had I actually been robbed?

Finally gaining the strength to stand, Nezuko pushed herself to her feet and examined the inside of her haori to see if anything she had was missing. When nothing was found, she checked within her kimono. Her hand froze when she touched something small and crumpled made of paper. She removed it from her kimono and opened her hand. She nearly dropped it when she realized what it was.

It was her brother’s hanafuda earrings.

As she starred in growing horror at the earrings in her hands, everything suddenly came rushing back. The events of the day prior and today flooded back with enough force that Nezuko nearly felt her legs buckle beneath her.

Delivering the charcoal…

Staying the night with Mr. Saburo…

Returning home to blood…

Her family…

Finding her older brother…

Her brother.

TANJIRO!

At that moment, a scream in the distance echoed throughout the barren woods. Nezuko snapped her head in the direction of the voice, which just so happened to be following the trail of footprints leading away from her. It sounded so anguished, so terrified and horrified that even the winter wind couldn’t cover the sound that was being produced.

She knew that voice.

“Tanjiro?” Nezuko whispered. She began taking slow steps toward the sound, numbly putting the paper earrings back inside her kimono. “Tanjiro?” She spoke a little louder, ignoring how her throat burned and her voice sounded slightly rough. Her steps quickened from stumbling to walking to running to eventually outright bolting toward the source of the noise. “TANJIRO! TANJIRO!”

The trees on either side of her began to blur as she ran. Nezuko was barely paying attention, not caring if she tripped and fell, or with how cold it was getting, freezing her finger and toes and face as if they were on fire. Her heart was pounding so hard she felt like her lungs were about to explode out of her chest and her breathing was short. 

But she didn’t care. She had to find him.

She had to find him.

She had to find him before he hurt himself.

Or hurt someone…

Please, whoever is listening, help Tanjiro! He didn’t do anything wrong!

There was a clearing up ahead. There was noise. Someone was there.

Nezuko willed herself to run faster.

Please! Don’t take him too!

Nezuko could make out a green and black checkered hoari. She could see his red hair. She could see the scar.

Her throat burned with each gasp but she couldn’t yell out to him.

Help him please!

He fell to his knees. He looked toward the sky. He extended his arms.

Someone pointed something sharp at him.

DON”T LET HIM DIE!

With speed she didn’t know she possessed, Nezuko lunged across the clearing and reached for her brother.

And the world exploded into snow.

One Day Prior…

“Sister! Sister! Come quick!”

Nezuko paused her walking at the sound of her younger siblings’ calling. She could see her younger sister, Hanako, and younger brother, Shigeru, running toward her in frantic steps. The young boy had to pause to catch his breath, but their sister was quick to grab Nezuko’s hand and attempt to pull her in the direction they had just come from.

“It’s big brother!” Hanako said frantically. Her eyes were wide with worry. “He was about to take the charcoal into town, but he fell.”

Nezuko’s eyes widened. She could feel her youngest brother, Rokuta, squirm somewhat in his sleep from where he was tied to her back for their walk. He had become more and more fussy recently, but the strolls through the mountain path and nature scenery helped.

“Mom...Mom said to bring you back,” Shigeru panted. Hanako nodded and started pulling Nezuko more urgently. Now that she knew what was happening, Nezuko allowed her younger siblings to lead her back to their small home on the mountain.

The clearing opened and the scene before her showed her mother kneeling next to their eldest brother, Tanjiro, examining his right foot. A little ways from them, their second eldest brother (but younger than Nezuko) Takeo was putting pieces of charcoal on the ground back into the basket that was used to carry them. When he noticed Nezuko and all of their younger siblings had returned, Takeo waved his arms frantically. “Wait, stop!”

They stopped, and noticed right before them were scuffled patches of snow revealing thin ice on the ground. It was only visible now because some of the black dust from the charcoal that had fallen stained the ice. It was easy to see how their brother had slipped.

“Is Tanjiro okay?” Nezuko asked as she ushered Hanako and Shigeru around the ice patch. They both ran to their mother’s side, Nezuko approaching slower and kneeling by her older brother.

“It looks like it’s just a sprain,” Nezuko’s mother, Kie, replied. Tanjiro winced as the woman wrapped his now bare foot carefully in bandages. Nezuko could make out a little redness and swelling before it was covered and their mother helped him to put his tabi sock back on. “Tanjiro just needs to rest and it should be fine in a few days.”

Tanjiro didn’t look happy at the news. He glanced back at the now full basket he had been carrying moments before. “But what about the charcoal? We still have to sell it today.”

Kie shook her head. “You’re not walking on that foot, Tanjiro. The weather is only going to get worse later, and who knows how many more of those ice patches are on the pathway down the mountain. It’s just not safe.”

Tanjiro frowned, looking like he wanted to argue but knew their mother had made multiple good points. Nezuko could feel the waves of disappointment and guilt coming off of him at being unable to fulfill what had become his main duty for the family, which in the past had been done by their late-father. Her brother had been adamant about selling a lot of charcoal today to ensure that the family would have enough money for a good New Year's. Waiting too long to sell could be bad, especially since traveling in the unpredictable weather could be dangerous.

But perhaps there was still a way to help…

“I can take the charcoal down to town.”

The family looked in surprise at Nezuko at her declaration. Knowing she had to act fast before anyone could try to talk her out of it, the girl began untying the cloth holding Rokuta (who was still asleep) on her back. “I know the trail well, and I’ve carried the basket before, so I shouldn’t have any trouble.”

“Nezuko, you shouldn’t-” Tanjiro began before Takeo suddenly raised his hand.

“I’ll go too!” He smiled and gave a thumbs up to Tanjiro. “As the second eldest son, it’s my job to help you when I can!”

Shigeru also raised his hand with an excited expression. “I’ll go too! Don’t forget me!”

“And me!” Hanako also chimed in. When her two brothers gave her questioning looks, the younger girl crossed her arms and frowned at them. “Hey I can help! I’ve been to town before in the spring. If Sister can go, then I’m just as capable as her!”

“Now wait a minute, all of you,” Kie spoke over the siblings. Her soft purple gaze became somewhat stern as she addressed them. “Did you not just hear me before? The trail will most likely be icy and dangerous and I don’t want anyone traveling in those conditions, especially at night.” She looked specifically at Hanako and Shigeru. “I know you two often get tired coming up the mountain, and Tanjiro won’t be able to pull the cart to bring you back.”

The two younger siblings groaned in disappointment and hung their heads down. Kie then looked toward Takeo, causing the slightly older boy to jump a little. “And Takeo, we need firewood for tonight because we ran out. That was your chore for today, wasn’t it?”

Takeo’s eyes widened and he hit his forehead with the palm of his hand. “Ah, you’re right, Mom. Dang it.”

“But I can still go.” Nezuko finished removing Rokuta from her cloth and handed the small toddler to their mother. The older woman was going to comment but Nezuko was quick to cut her off and carefully help Tanjiro off the ground. “I know it’s dangerous, but I’ve walked with Brother before in the cold. I’ll be super careful, and stay down the mountain if it gets too dark. I promise I won’t do anything too risky.”

Kie stared at Nezuko for a moment, then sighed and allowed her gaze to soften. “If you’re sure. But I mean it Nezuko, don’t take any unnecessary risks. The last thing we need is you getting seriously injured.”

Nezuko smiled and nodded. “I promise, Mom!” Nezuko looked toward her dejected younger siblings as she put Tanjiro’s arm over her shoulders. “Besides, this also gives everyone else the chance to hang out with Tanjiro while he rests.”

At this, all three of the younger siblings’ eyes lit up at the same time in identical looks of excitement. 

“Yeah! There’s lots we can do with Big Brother!” Shigeru exclaimed.

Hanako clapped her hands happily. “You can read to me like you said you would when you got back! Yay!”

“And even though you can’t help as much, you can watch me chop the wood too!” Takeo added.

Nezuko watched Tanjiro’s expression shift into a small smile at their siblings' excitement. But she could still feel a small bit of guilt coming off of him…

“I’ll take Tanjiro inside and get ready to go,” Nezuko said, reaching down to grab her brother’s other snow boot that he had taken off earlier and helping Tanjiro hobble inside. “We’ll be right back.”

“Are you sure you’ll be alright on your own, Nezuko?”

“I’m positive, I’ll be fine.” Nezuko returned to where Tanjiro was lying on his futon with his leg propped slightly. She was pulling on the dark brown haori she normally wore whenever she went out in the cold weather. “It’ll just be for the day anyways. It’s about time I start doing this trip by myself anyways. After all, what would we do if you or Takeo got sick or injured worse?”

“I suppose you’re right,” Tanjiro replied, sighing and keeping his gaze trained on his injured foot. “I just hate that I couldn’t do this for the family when we need all the money we can get for a good New Year’s celebration. I feel like I failed.”

And there was the source of his guilt.

“Tanjiro.”

The boy looked up as Nezuko knelt in front of him, gently taking his hands in her own. She looked him in the eyes, hoping she could share some of her own positivity with him. “Tanjiro, I know this has to do with Father.”

His eyes widened, but before he could speak, Nezuko put a hand over his mouth. “Let me finish, okay?” He nodded, and she lowered her hand and grabbed his once again.

“I know you have been under a lot of pressure recently because of Father’s passing, especially now since it’s your duty as the eldest son to assume his role and protect the family. You are someone that everyone follows wherever you go, and brings hope and happiness to them. But I know that you’ve been struggling with the responsibility since his passing, and don’t want anyone to feel that way either.”

Nezuko tightened her grip on her brother’s hands. “It’s okay to share the burden with us, Tanjiro. We don’t expect you to be just like Dad, and I know that the last thing you want to do is replace him. So lean on us. Mom and I are ready to do whatever we can to lighten the pressure, and even Takeo has proven that he can take on some responsibilities too. I mean it though, you’re not alone in this. We can help. I can help in any way you need, so please don’t feel bad about having to take a step back every once in a while.”

Tanjiro stared at Nezuko for a moment. Then tears started to gather in his red eyes, causing him to give a watery laugh and wipe them away with his sleeve. “When did you become so grown up?”

Nezuko shrugged with a smile. “I do have an awesome big brother who’s good at comforting me when I’m sad. I picked up a few tricks from him.”

Tanjiro laughed again, causing his earrings to sway with the movement. He wiped his eyes one last time before taking a deep breath and smiling back at his sister. “Thank you, Nezuko.”

“Of course.” Nezuko gave her brother one last pat on his shoulder before rising to her feet and heading to the genkan where she put on the snow boots Tanjiro had worn only a few hours prior.

“Nezuko.”

She looked up and reacted just in time to catch a blue scarf thrown at her. It was the one Tanjiro had also been wearing earlier. She smiled at it, then at her brother who looked much more relaxed, as though a physical weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He nodded at her. “I know you’re going to do great things one day. I'm here for you too, wherever you go and whatever you decide to do. I promise.”

Nezuko nodded back, putting on the soft blue scarf and checking her hair one last time before sliding the door open to find their siblings having a small snowball fight, laughing and having fun. Kie was off to the side, holding Rokuta and standing next to the basket of charcoal.

“I’m leaving now!” Nezuko called. In a few moments, she was surrounded by her siblings, hugging her and saying their goodbyes. She reassured them that yes, she would still bring some goodies back from the village, yes she would be careful, and yes, she would be back as soon as possible and that there was nothing to worry about.

After finally satisfying her brothers and sister (and giving her mother a proper goodbye), Nezuko finally picked up the charcoal basket and began her journey to town. She waved goodbye as her family members did the same, and just before she turned around, she noticed Tanjiro stick his head out the door to the house. He waved and she smiled in return.

She couldn’t wait to see them when she got back.

“Ah, Nezuko!” Mrs. Tamura, an older woman who owned the town inn, exclaimed when she caught sight of the girl approaching. She paused her sweeping and gave Nezuko her full attention. “You came down the mountain on a day like today? Don’t you Kamados ever stop working? You could catch a cold.”

Nezuko smiled. “Oh don’t worry, Mrs. Tamura. It’s not as bad as you think. Do you need a refill on charcoal by any chance?”

“Kimiko, who is it?” Mr. Tamura’s voice sounded from within the building.

“It’s Nezuko Kamado, dear!" Mrs. Tamura called over her shoulder to her husband. "She came to sell charcoal.”

“Nezuko?” The older man stepped out and gave the girl a concerned look. “What happened to your brother? Is he okay?”

Nezuko nodded. “Tanjiro’s fine. He just sprained his ankle right before he left, so I’m filling in for him today.”

Mrs. Tamura hummed. “Oh dear, the poor boy. Please let him know we hope he feels better. The ice around here can be dangerous if you’re not careful. Oh, you asked about charcoal earlier! We’ll take some, dear.”

“Hey, Nezuko,” Mr. Sato said as he walked out from his shop. “I’ll take some more.”

“I’m good,” Mr. Nakamura called out a little further away. “But make sure you tell your brother thanks for fixing my sliding doors the other day.”

“I need some charcoal too, sweetie!” Ms. Suzuki’s voice rang out as well.

Nezuko couldn’t help but feel a little giddy at the amount of people requesting charcoal. It was true that she had never done this on her own before, but she did have experience handling the money while Tanjiro and their younger siblings delivered the product. Doing this on her own felt exciting.

She couldn’t wait to tell Tanjiro about this.

Nezuko was about to respond to the requests when the door from the shop behind her slammed open. She turned around and saw a young man that she recognized as Karou being manhandled by Ms. Mori. A little blood was coming from his nose and mouth, and he was wildly looking around. His frantic gaze landed on Nezuko. “Nezuko! Where’s Tanjiro?! I need his help!”

“He hurt his foot,” Nezuko answered, setting down the basket and approaching him. “What happened?”

“This idiot broke one of my valuable plates, and he’s denying having anything to do with it.” Ms. Mori let Karou fall forward, crossing her arms with an angry expression. “You were in the same room when it happened. Just admit what you did!”

“But I didn’t!” Karou opened the cloth he was holding, revealing the broken shards of a red plate. He looked up at Nezuko desperately. “Help me please! Can’t people in your family tell if something smells off?”

Nezuko frowned. “I’m sorry, but only my brother and father were able to do that.” Karou looked like he was about to cry. Still, Nezuko took the cloth and carefully wrapped the plate, setting on the ground before taking one of his hands and looking up at Ms. Mori. “I can tell if Karou is telling the truth, though.”

Ms. Mori raised an eyebrow. “You can? Nezuko, please don’t cover for him out of pity. That boy has blown through a multitude of chances-”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be honest. I promise.” Nezuko turned back to Harou, gripping his left hand in both of hers (and ignoring the way his face burned a dark red). “Harou, answer me honestly; did you break Ms. Mori’s plate?”

Harou blinked furiously at her before shaking his head and responding. “N-No! I swear on my life! I didn’t break the plate!”

Nezuko could feel waves of nervous energy and fear from his pulse, a straight connection from his very soul. Despite the slight trembling of his hands and the strong waves of emotion coming off of him, the feeling was warm and constant.

And warmth meant truth.

“Harou is telling the truth, Ms. Mori.” Nezuko smiled at Harou as his face fell into an expression of joyous relief. “Nothing about him is giving off vibes of dishonesty, so I trust him.”

Ms. Mori sighed and shook her head. “If you’re sure, dear. I still wish I knew what actually happened though. It couldn’t have just fallen over.”

Nezuko hummed at the comment when suddenly an idea came to her. She picked up the cloth, once again revealing the broken plate. She looked at the pieces for a moment, studying them carefully against the darker material when she finally saw what she was looking for. She carefully plucked a small orange hair from the fragments and showed it to the older woman and young man. “If I had to guess what happened, I think a cat must have gotten in and knocked it over. Hasn’t there been a stray frequenting the buildings on the east side lately?”

“Well, I’ll be,” Ms. Mori breathed, her eyes widening. “You’re right. I can’t believe that cat finally broke inside.”

“You see! It was a cat! I’m innocent!” Harou exclaimed, looking much happier now that he wasn’t being beaten for a crime he didn’t commit. He turned back to Nezuko and gave her a deep bow. “Thank you thank you thank you so much Nezuko! I’m so glad your entire family has weird powers!”

“Harou! Don’t insult her like that!”

“What? It was a compliment! Don’t hit me again!”

Nezuko chuckled. “It’s not a problem.” She stared at the plate a little longer, noting how large the pieces were. “You know, if you have a little glue, I think I might be able to fix this.”

The older woman perked up at this. “You think you can? That would be great.”

They were able to fix the plate, and both Ms. Mori and Harou thanked Nezuko profusely for her help with the situation, as things probably would have ended much more negatively had she not stepped in. Ms. Mori ended up buying some charcoal as thanks, and Harou showed his gratitude in helping Nezuko carry some luggage that Mr. Ishida asked for some assistance in moving when he thought he heard that Tanjiro was in town as well.

And that was how Nezuko spent a majority of the day. It was a balance between selling charcoal to the town and lending a hand to anyone who needed it. Usually it was Tanjiro helping around, especially if the tasks were more labor-intensive or required heavy lifting while Nezuko and her siblings took care of their business. But doing everything on her own felt nice.

It was a small principle Nezuko's father had taught her and her siblings; to help anyone who may be in need. Even if it was a small task such as fixing a broken plate, or a large one like repairing a broken door, doing something kind for someone struggling was how kindness was spread. It didn't matter if no money was offered for its completion; kind deeds should be done out of the kindness of one's heart. To Nezuko, the feeling of doing good alone was enough of a reward for her, and she made sure to carry her father's words close to her heart.

It was one of the few gifts that he had left with the family. And the Kamados were determined to carry on that legacy.

Eventually, evening arrived and Nezuko bid the town farewell as she began traveling back toward the mountain with an empty basket. She could hardly believe it; they had sold out and made enough money for a great celebration! She was even able to buy a few things in town to bring back to her younger siblings. It just made her feel so happy!

Nezuko hummed a soft tune to herself as she walked through the snow, taking her time to admire the beautiful white sparkling around her and the slight birdcall in the distance. A small childish part of her was tempted to run around a little and kick up a little bit of the snow around her. But then she remembered her mother’s words about being careful with the ice and traveling in the dark, so she chose to keep moving forward.

It wasn't until she was a few minutes up the mountain that Nezuko stopped. She didn’t know what it was, but all of a sudden, a heavy feeling started to press on her chest, as though a cold stone had been placed on top of her heart. It made her shiver in a way the cold winter air couldn’t, making her tremble somewhat. Nezuko placed a hand over her heart, feeling it beating faster.

What was causing it?

SNAP

Nezuko whirled to her side with a gasp, staring into the trees in the distance. For a moment, she could have sworn she saw a flash of red and something moving in the dark. She stood there, backing up ever so slowly, tense and waiting for something to happen. She didn’t have any weapons on her or anything sharp, so she could only hope to outrun whatever creature it was.

It was a good thing she was incredibly fast.

But thankfully, nothing approached her and the heavy cold feeling on her chest began to loosen until it disappeared all together. Nezuko sighed, relief coursing through her but also with a sense of slight dread. She DID NOT want to be walking in the dark for much longer, especially with some animal prowling about. Plus, there was no way she could see the hidden ice patches now that it was nearly pitch black.

Nezuko looked back the way she came, and sure enough saw light in the distance belonging to Old Man Saburo’s house. He had been an old friend of her father’s, and she had been told that for whatever reason, if they were traveling and needed help, to go to Saburo’s and he would help no questions asked.

Maybe it’s best to ask if I can spend the night at his house. Hopefully he won’t mind.

With that, Nezuko walked (albeit a little faster than before) down the mountain once again to the small house. She was thankful that she made this choice before climbing any higher and was glad that she didn't slip or tumble when she arrived. She knocked twice and stepped back, hearing nothing but then quick footsteps come to the door.

“Who is it?”

“Nezuko Kamado, sir.”

The door opened a crack, but the moment the man’s eyes saw her, Mr. Saburo opened it the rest of the way. “Nezuko, what are you doing outside at night? It’s dangerous.”

Nezuko bowed her head slightly. “I was selling charcoal in the village and was heading home. I apologize if I’m disturbing you, but since it was getting dark I was wondering if-”

“None of that, come inside now.” Mr. Saburo ushered the girl inside, taking a moment to look out the door before closing it. He sighed, then nodded to Nezuko. “You’ll be staying the night here. I don’t want you out there until the sun rises.”

“Are you sure this is okay?” Nezuko asked. She hadn’t moved from where she had been let in, but placed her basket next to her. “I really don’t want to impose-”

“No, it’s best if you stay inside tonight.” Mr. Saburo’s gaze hardened. “Before the demons show up.”

Demons?

Nezuko chose not to comment on that for the moment, allowing the man to prepare her dinner and set up a futon to sleep on. She made sure to thank him profusely and promised to return the favor when she could, but he waved her off and said it was the least he could do. He was just glad that she had the common sense to come inside when she felt nervous about traveling in the dark.

“Knowing your brother and father, they would have insisted on climbing the mountain using nothing but their sense of smell.” Mr. Saburo shook his head as he rolled out the guest futon. “I understand they are gifted in that sense, but even they have to realize how dangerous that can be.”

Nezuko hummed, swallowing a bite of her rice. “That doesn’t surprise me. At least they would be brave enough to climb the mountain and not get spooked like me.”

Mr. Saburo huffed. “Nothing wrong with trusting your instincts if something is amiss. I’m just glad some of you Kamados know when to ask for help and to not just blindly walk in the dark on your own. Literally.”

Nezuko chuckled. They sat in silence for a little bit as the girl finished her meal, saying a quiet “thank you” before setting her chopsticks on her now empty bowl. As she drank the last of her tea, relishing the warmth of the cup and the liquid, she couldn’t help but still feel a shiver of cold from earlier.

She thought back to that overpowering feeling of dread and fear. To whatever had been in the woods walking by. To the slight feeling of Mr. Saburo’s paranoia when he looked outside. 

To his words from earlier.

“Hey, Mr. Saburo,” Nezuko finally asked, placing her cup down. “What did you mean by demons?”

Mr. Saburo went over to her and picked up the small stand with her empty dishes, a hard look in his eyes. “There have always been man-eating demons prowling about in the dark. Mindless creatures that wouldn’t hesitate to attack and devour humans. That’s why it’s so dangerous to be out alone at night.” He took the dishes away, nodding to the futon he set up. “Time for bed. You can leave at first light.”

“Do they live in the woods?” Nezuko asked as she got up and settled herself into the bed. She still sat up so she could undo her hair from the three buns it had been in.

Saburo shook his head, taking a seat nearby with a pipe in his hand. “They can live anywhere. They exist everywhere and have been known to be in even the most unexpected places.”

Nezuko let her hair down, brushing a few strands away from her face. Her gaze was trained on the three pink ribbons that had been used to tie back her hair in her hand. “But…they’re not able to come into your house, are they?”

There was a pause. Nezuko looked up at Mr. Saburo, who was facing away, and watched him blow out some smoke. “Yes, they could.”

Nezuko’s hand closed tightly over the thin pink ribbons. “Then, wouldn’t they just…eat everyone?”

Again, another pause. Mr. Saburo hummed, then turned to face the young girl. “The Demon Slayers protect us by killing as many as they can. They always have.”

He turned around and put out his pipe with a thunk thunk before getting up. “Now go to bed. It’s lights out.”

As the lantern light was extinguished and Nezuko finally allowed herself to lie down under the covers, she couldn’t help but feel for Mr. Saburo. She remembered vaguely her father telling her and Tanjiro that the older man had lost his entire family one winter and had been all alone ever since. She couldn’t imagine going through something like that. Experiencing loneliness and anxiety every day, following you like a distinct scent.

I’ll suggest to Tanjiro to bring our brothers and sister down every once in a while. I’m sure he’d appreciate the company, Nezuko thought to herself. She took a deep breath, a little more content at that. There’s no need to worry. There are no demons. No reason to be scared.

...

...

...

...

...

Although…

The cold feeling…

Something in the woods…

The moment of building terror…

Didn’t grandmother use to say the same thing before she passed away?

Even as she fell asleep, Nezuko didn’t even realize that she was still gripping her ribbons in a tight fist.

“You be careful now,” Mr. Saburo called out once Nezuko had her shoes on and was walking out of the house. She looked back to wave and smiled at him.

“Thanks again for letting me spend the night!” Nezuko turned and began to walk up the mountain again, feeling much better now that it was daylight with no fear of being attacked by an animal or slipping on ice (she had to keep reminding herself of that last one). Still, there were a few puffy grey clouds in the sky slowly growing in size. It seemed like snow was on the way, just as her mother and the townspeople predicted, so Nezuko made sure to keep up a steady pace.

There wasn't that much of the path left to go, and Nezuko was about to start humming again when she stopped. She squinted, something poking out of the snow just ahead of her. It was something faintly black, with what looked like string blowing in the light breeze. Curious, Nezuko walked toward it, now noticing that the snow surrounding it was greatly disturbed as though a scuffle had taken place. Nezuko knelt down, plucking the small object to see that it was a piece of paper that-

WAIT A MINUTE

It was an earring. A hanafuda earring.

Tanjiro’s earring.

“Oh my gosh,” Nezuko whispered in horror. She saw the trail of disturbed snow lead further away from her, seeing something small on the ground as well. The girl crawled toward it, finding the other earring, but in much worse condition, having been crumpled into a ball and seemingly stomped on after being dropped carelessly into the snow.

These were family heirlooms. There was no way that Tanjiro would throw them away.

Something terrible had happened.

“Tanjiro?” Nezuko called out, getting up and placing the earrings in her pink kimono. She began to run up the trail, following the disturbed snow back to their home. “Tanjiro! Is anyone here? Tanjiro! Tan-”

Nezuko froze in her tracks. The short trail had ended.

Whenever happiness is destroyed…

She had been led right to the broken body of her older brother.

It is always followed…

Surrounded by-

The presence of blood.

“TANJIRO!”

Nezuko threw off the basket and dashed forward, falling to her knees right before him. Tanjiro was surrounded by a large amount of scarlet snow, blood staining his entire body and soaking his sleepwear. At that moment, Nezuko didn’t know what to do. She knew that she should at least check his body more carefully for wounds and his pulse, but she couldn’t bring herself to touch him. Her trembling hands hovered inches above her brother’s body, as though the moment they made physical contact, he would shatter like glass.

“Tanjiro…I, what happened?” Nezuko whispered, an edge of hysteria in her tone that she was barely aware of. “W-What’s going on? How did this…Who…What-?”

Nezuko finally looked up, her eyes widening when she saw that the red surrounding Tanjiro left a trail leading right back to the destroyed door of their house.

The entire family had been attacked.

Nezuko didn’t remember much after making that connection. She barely remembered anything after seeing all of the blood.

Calling for her mother as she stumbled back toward her home.

Feeling the air leave her lungs once she reached the doorway and looked inside.

Falling to her knees and throwing up upon seeing how the entire room and walls were painted red.

Choking and gagging and crying as the image of her mother’s, brothers’, and sister’s corpses were burned into her memory.

She did remember one thing. And that was letting out a guttural scream that ripped through her throat so hard it burned and letting her tears fall like a waterfall.

Mom was dead.

Takeo was dead.

Hanako was dead.

Shigeru was dead.

Rokuta was dead.

But Tanjiro was still alive.

That was what kept running through Nezuko’s head as the young girl stumbled back down the mountain with most of Tanjiro’s body draped over her.

When she finally had the courage to check the bodies (all of the bodies), her older brother’s had been the only one still warm and with a weak pulse. She nearly cried all over again when she discovered this, but then knew that he was still dying and needed immediate medical help. She didn’t get a chance to check him fully for injuries and where the blood had come from, but Nezuko knew that wasting time now could mean the difference between saving and losing her last living family.

So she threw his checkered haori on him before pulling as much of him as she could onto her back and dashed down the path she had just taken.

Her best hope was to get Tanjiro to a doctor in town as quickly as possible and hope that something could still be done. 

Mom was dead…Takeo was dead…

“It’s going to be alright!” Nezuko breathed as struggled to keep walking forward. Her brother was much heavier than the basket of charcoal she took down yesterday, especially since Tanjiro was unconscious and she was carrying essentially all of his weight. The muscles in her arms, legs, and back protested, but Nezuko ignored it. “Just hang on!”

Hanako was dead…Shigeru was dead…

The anticipated snow had finally started to fall. With it, colder winds blew right in Nezuko’s face, feeling like tiny knives burning and cutting against her skin. It didn’t help that the air was also irritating her already aching throat with each gasp she made. The only positive (if it could even be called that) was that the snow wasn’t as heavy as people said it would be, but anything that hadn’t been covered by previous snowfalls-stones, a couple bare branches of trees, cleared areas of the trail down-was now being blanketed in white.

Perhaps if the situation weren’t so dire, Nezuko would have stopped to admire the beautiful winter scenery like she did yesterday.

Her siblings would have loved to have played in this weather.

Rokuta was dead… Her whole family was dead-

Nezuko took a step and felt her weight shift suddenly, causing her to yelp and fall to the ground. Tanjiro’s body weighed on more heavily, making the fall hurt more. Nezuko grunted and carefully rolled her brother off of her so he was lying on his side. When she attempted to get up, her foot once again gave out on her, making her fall back into the snow. She tried one more time (and failed again), and finally looked down only to realize that she was slipping on a patch of ice.

“Stupid ice,” she whispered, the tears from eariler threatening to come back. She pounded the ground in frustration, ignoring how it made her hands hurt. A part of her just wanted to lay there in the snow and pretend that this was all a horrible nightmare so that when she opened her eyes, it would be morning when everything was still okay. She would wake up at Mr. Saburo’s house and leave to a home that was still full. There would be no blood and death waiting for her.

But that could never happen.

Her whole family was dead and they weren’t coming back.

But Tanjiro was still alive.

Focus on that, Nezuko told herself, forcing herself to her knees. You can still save your big brother. Get up.

Nezuko rose to her feet, taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm her still racing heart. She could do this. It may have been too late to save her family, but she still had her brother.

Tanjiro was still alive.

Focus on that. Just get him help and worry about what comes after later.

First things first; she needed to alert someone that her brother was hurt.

Nezuko glanced back at Tanjiro’s prone body. Carrying him down the mountain would be a very slow process due to how much he weighed and how tired she was getting. Not to mention the possibility of slipping on snow or ice and risking an injury when she needed to move. She could run faster alone and bring help here, so perhaps that was the best strategy.

Old Man Saburo was closest to her. So he was her best bet of getting Tanjiro help as soon as possible. He could at least look after him while Nezuko ran the rest of the way to town to fetch the doctor.

With that, Nezuko dragged Tanjiro over to the rocky wall opposite of the cliffs they were passing by to her right. She propped his body up and unwrapped his blue scarf from her neck and put it on him. “Stay here,” she whispered. She rubbed his arm in what she hoped he could feel as a comforting gesture. “I don’t know if you can hear me, but I’m going to bring help. Just please hang on and I’ll be back.”

Nezuko got up and began to run the rest of the way down the mountain. But she didn’t get far.

Because at that moment, she heard a groan.

Nezuko nearly slid across the snow in surprise, and stood there for a few moments, waiting to see if the wind was just playing tricks on her. But she still turned around, and what she saw gave her the first bit of hope she felt since returning home. Tanjiro had fallen forward, but was slowly pushing himself to stand.

Tanjiro was moving!

He’s okay!

“Brother! Hold on, let me help you!”

Nezuko quickly ran back over to her brother as he struggled to get up. He managed to get to his feet, but swayed a little when he attempted to take a step forward. In fact, his whole body appeared to be twitching rather oddly as though he were experiencing muscle spasms. He nearly fell forward again when Nezuko finally reached and caught him.

“It’s okay! You’re okay!” She could feel the muscles in his arms trembling, and his skin nearly as cold as the air around them. His hair had fallen out from where he normally kept it up, so she couldn’t see his face. And he was making small noises that sounded like whining mixed with groans. 

And yet at the sound of her voice, he froze and became silent. Carefully, Nezuko raised her hand to cup his cheek and slowly lifted his head up. “Tanjiro, what’s-?”

The words died when she looked at her brother’s face.

This wasn’t her brother.

His eyes, which were usually a dark mahogany red, had changed into a sickening pinkish-red with slitted pupils. He growled, showing off sharp pointy teeth clenched tightly. His hair had grown longer, now reaching just below his shoulders and appearing more blood red. The scar on his forehead had grown and looked as though a flame mark had been clawed into his head, stretching down to his temple and across his head.

At that moment, Nezuko was suddenly reminded of Old Man Saburo’s warning from the night before and her Grandmother’s words. This wasn’t her brother.

This was a demon.

Tanjiro roared and without hesitation lunged at Nezuko, both siblings falling to the ground in a mix of roars and screams.

Chapter Text

“Brother, come back inside. It’s cold.”

Nezuko stepped outside the doorway of the small house, tightening her purple haori over her night robe against the frigid air. It was late, nearly pitch black save for the small light from the lantern Tanjiro left near where he was standing in the middle of a circle of kicked up snow. His shoulders were rising and falling heavily while exhaling white clouds of air. In his hand, he was loosely holding the hatchet he and Takeo used to chop wood.

Tanjiro didn’t move, and for a moment Nezuko worried that he didn’t hear her and was in some sort of trance. But the older boy eventually shook his head and his grip on the hatchet tightened. “Not yet. I’ll…I’ll go inside in a little bit. I’m fine.”

“It’s late, and you still have to deliver the charcoal down the mountain tomorrow.” Nezuko walked out and tried to ignore how the snow was burning her bare feet. She reached Tanjiro and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, turning him around to face her. His eyes had a far-away look, staring at nothing and yet drifting to the darkness beyond the trees as though something might come out. He didn’t even seem to notice that he was trembling. Nezuko moved so she was in his line of sight. “Mother won’t let you leave if she knows how late you were up. Come inside or I'll tell her in the morning.”

Tanjiro finally focused his gaze on her, then let out a more breathy sigh and the tension left his body. “Fine.” 

Nezuko led her brother back inside, picking up and handing him his checkered haori (since he had only been in his sleepwear, barefoot) where she had left it near the entrance, and guiding him to sit by the genkan with the door still half-open. The lantern had also been brought in, a small bit of light the two siblings shared as they gazed out at the snowy landscape just beyond their home. They sat in a comfortable silence for a while, with Tanjiro still shivering slightly and Nezuko laying her head on his shoulder. It was peaceful, a small moment of calm they rarely got to share between the two of them due to their respective duties as the oldest siblings. Even more so since their father died.

Nezuko wished she could have more moments like these with her older brother.

“You don’t have to be so anxious, Tanjiro,” Nezuko whispered. “Everything is okay. And you’ll protect us if you need to.”

Tanjiro didn’t say anything. He just grasped Nezuko’s hand in his. “I know. But sometimes I can’t sleep because I keep thinking about it.”

“About what?” Nezuko asked. She looked up and saw the lantern light being reflected in Tanjiro’s dark red gaze as he stared ahead.

“That something will go wrong.” Tanjiro’s gaze hardened, and shadows created from the light made his face appear much older. “There’s something Father used to say whenever something bad happened.” And what he said next would haunt Nezuko the next day and perhaps for years to come.

“Whenever happiness is destroyed, it is always followed by the presence of blood.”

“TANJIRO WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”

Tanjiro didn’t seem to hear Nezuko. He was too busy trying to bite her from where he had her pinned on the ground. His grip on her shoulders was crushing, and the only reason he hadn’t taken a bite out of her yet was because Nezuko was holding him back by his throat with both her hands.

“Tanjiro stop! It’s me! It’s Nezuko! Your sister!” Nezuko pleaded, shrieking when Tanjiro’s only response was to try lunging again and snarling in her face. There was no recognition in his sickly red eyes, and he just kept snapping at her with rows of sharp teeth dripping spit.

So this is what Mr. Saburo was talking about. This was a demon.

No! This can’t be true! Nezuko argued with herself. Tanjiro’s been a human his entire life. He’s still your kind older brother who wouldn’t hurt anyone!

And yet, Tanjiro had somehow undergone a change she couldn’t explain.

His aura was different. Every person Nezuko had interacted with her entire life had a warm feeling to them, something that told her they were full of life and good that left them open for her to delve into their emotions should she be allowed to. It was like a small ball of light that she could sense (and sometimes feel). A spiritual extension that all living beings shared from her experience.

But now, physically touching Tanjiro in such close proximity? His aura had become cold and sharp and bad. There was no coherence or logic to the emotions present within him, leaving Nezuko feeling as though she was going to throw up or cry. It made her want to pull away and stay as far as she could from it, as though even being near something like him was poisonous. There were no traces of what made Tanjiro’s soul Tanjiro anymore.

And despite all of this, Nezuko just couldn’t believe that Tanjiro had killed their family.

For one, despite the panic and terror she had been feeling upon discovering Tanjiro’s body, she noticed that the blood coating him and his clothes was located more along his torso, legs, sleeves, and forehead. There was none present on his hands or mouth. Which meant that Tanjiro had been attacked, and not the other way around.

There was also the hatchet that her brother often used. It was the only weapon the family had, and she vaguely remembered running past it when she went to look inside the house. It had been a good distance from the doorway, with the wooden handle broken and the blade clean of any blood, positioned as though it had been tossed aside once destroyed.

Even though it was little to work with, it made enough sense to Nezuko and at least quelled the anxiety she had that Tanjiro had simply snapped and murdered his entire family. There was no reason why he would do that.

But that still didn’t explain why he was like this now and attacking her.

Nezuko snapped out of her thoughts when Tanjiro roared and tried to lunge again. He got a lot closer this time, and Nezuko was forced to use one of her hands to push his face away from hers.

“Tanjiro, please snap out of it!” Nezuko knew at this point, her brother was too far gone in whatever possessed mindset was affecting him and couldn’t hear her. But there was a small part of her that hoped that maybe, just maybe, something in him would remember her. At this point, it was all she could do. “It’s Nezuko, let me help you!”

Her brother only grew more agitated, however, and began growling louder, pushing against Nezuko’s grip on him more, slowly but surely overpowering her until her hand was unable to keep his face away. Nezuko gasped in fear at how he did this, but then realized how.

Somehow he had doubled in size and grew to the size of a man.

How did he do that?!

She didn’t have time to ponder that because Tanjiro took advantage of his newfound strength and grabbed her neck.

Nezuko immediately felt her airways close and all the oxygen leave her. She gagged and wheezed, clawing at her brother’s large arms as they squeezed her throat with a manic expression on his face. When that clearly wasn’t working she started kicking and trying to move her body in any way she could to get him to just let go.

But Tanjiro was too big and powerful, not even phased by her attempts and kept squeezing tighter and tighter. There was no way to escape.

Nezuko tried one last time to plead to her brother, but the only sounds she could make at that point were broken, gurgling gasps. She felt tears well in her pink eyes as she stared back at his demonic ones. She didn’t know if they were due to her being choked or the sadness and fear that she was about to be killed by her older brother.

Kind, sweet Tanjiro, who would rather take his own life than hurt another human being, was about to murder Nezuko.

As the edges of her vision began to fade to black, Nezuko stopped struggling and kept her grip on Tanjiro’s arms, softening into something she hoped was comforting. She trained her gaze on his eyes, wanting the last thing she saw to be her brother’s face, demon or not. She prayed that some part of Tanjiro could see that she was okay and didn’t blame him.

I’m so sorry Tanjiro, Nezuko tried to communicate in her head, hoping something would reach him. “You and the family must have suffered so much last night, and I wasn’t there. You tried to protect them, all of them, didn’t you? I’m so sorry I couldn’t do anything.

Please forgive yourself Tanjiro.

I know this isn’t your fault.

With that, Nezuko closed her eyes and waited for the darkness to consume her.

…

…

…

…

…

And then, the pressure on her neck was released.

Nezuko’s eyes shot open and she immediately gasped for air, her hands flying to her bruised throat. She rolled onto her side and curled in on herself, taking a few moments to just breathe and cough and be happy that she wasn’t going to be choked to death.

What just happened?

She got her answer when something touched her shoulder. Nezuko, still frazzled and trying to get her bearings again, rolled away from it quickly and fumbled to sit up so the stone wall of the path was at her back. She kept a hand on her throat, and felt her anxiety rise again when she realized that she nearly forgot about the fact that the only other person here with her was Tanjiro.

Tanjiro, who had just tried to choke her.

Who was now currently sitting on his knees, looking at Nezuko with a hand still outreached and a confused expression on his face.

He tilted his head, and opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was garbled speech that sounded more animalistic than human. His slitted eyes widened, and suddenly honed onto his hand, taking in how big it was and his now sharpened nails/claws. He brought his other hand up to his face, turning both appendages like they might change back to his smaller, slightly calloused ones from the day before. He made more growls and whining sounds as his breathing picked up, now seeing the blood on his body and the changes it had somehow gone through with visible fear growing on his face.

“Tan…Tan…jiro?” Nezuko tried to speak clearly, but her voice came out raspy. She was still incredibly out of breath and coughing every time the air passed through her lungs wrong. Still she forced herself to get up and carefully approach her brother.

Tanjiro zeroed in on Nezuko once again, but this time he didn’t even try to attack her. He cried out fearfully, standing and stumbling backwards to put distance between them. His movements were uncoordinated, however, as though he had no idea how to move around in his large body. He appeared to be putting all of his energy and focus into trying to say something, but just couldn’t get the words out beyond growls and cries.

So much so that he didn’t notice that he was about to reach the edge of the cliffs.

“Wait! St-St-op!” Nezuko cried out. She didn't think and just ran toward Tanjiro. At the same moment the demon put his hands out in a gesture to stop her, Nezuko felt her foot slip, realizing too late that she had forgotten about the hidden ice patches and causing her to fall forward and into her brother. He in turn stepped back at the impact and lost his footing, taking both of them over the ledge.

Once again, both Nezuko and Tanjiro cried out as they fell from the high drop, free-falling down through the falling snow.

This time, though, Nezuko blacked out before she hit the ground.

But if she stayed awake just a second longer, she would have witnessed Tanjiro grabbing her at the last moment and hugging her so his body would hit the ground first.

Slowly, he opened eyes.

There was a grey sky above him and it was snowing. He was on his back, holding something warm in a tight grip. He took a deep breath and was met with an incredible smell that made his mouth water and stomach growl loudly. He looked at the warmth he was holding and saw a human girl dressed in pink.

He was trying to eat her before.

So why did he stop?

He must have gotten distracted.

Just eat and you’ll feel better.

He moved the girl so she was on her back and placed her on the ground. Her scent-light, slightly fragrant, but delicious smelling-was beckoning him to eat her right away. He was aching all over. His head was foggy, making him lightheaded. His stomach hurt and his throat was parched. And all of that was about to go away with this wonderful meal.

Eat and you’ll feel better.

He leaned forward to grab the girl’s arm when something tightened around his neck. It felt like a leash, making him gag and spit a little. He growled and looked down, seeing something long and blue under his knee being pulled taut. The rest of it was tied around him. He wrestled it off, tearing the fabric a little and threw it on the ground. He scowled at the offending thing, whatever it was.

No wait, he knew what it was. It was a scarf.

His scarf.

But I gave it to Nezuko.

Who was Nezuko?

“Nezuko.”

She paused and turned around. He threw his blue scarf at her from where he was sitting in bed. She caught it and smiled at him.

“I know you’re going to do great things one day. I’m here for you too, wherever you go and whatever you decide to do. I promise.”

She nodded, a warm smile on her face and a happy light in her bright pink eyes. She put on the scarf and headed outside, saying goodbyes to their family. Even as she walked away, he got up and hobbled to the doorway. He stood just inside and managed to catch her eye as she walked away.

He waved. She smiled.

He was so proud of his little sister.

His little sister…

His little sister…

Nezuko…

Nezuko…

Nezuko…

Mom…

Takeo…

Hanako…

Shigeru…

Rokuta…

Father…

Nezuko…

NO!

Tanjiro launched himself backwards, away from Nezuko’s body as though touching it would burn him. He turned away and plunged his head into the freezing snow, digging his sharp claws into his hair and trying to take deep breaths. It wasn’t calming him down, only increasing his panic and making him take in more of Nezuko’s scent.

What have I done?!

He didn’t know. The previous night was all a blur for him. The cloudiness in his head decreased ever so slightly, but still felt like a thick fog was surrounding his brain and preventing him from remembering clearly what led him to this point.

He remembered screaming and blood. He remembered holding the hatchet and swinging at something. He remembered hearing his other sister scream and littlest brother crying. He remembered his mother saying everything would be alright.

He remembered pain and red eyes and something dark awakening in him.

Did I hurt them?

He couldn’t remember enough. But there was blood all over him and sharp claws on his hands. There were large fangs just barely poking out of his mouth, and hair that felt much longer and thicker than he remembered growing it out. And there had been a moment where he had grown larger (but was now smaller).

Something had changed him and he didn’t know what.

A sharp stabbing pain erupted in his gut, causing him to cry out and hug his middle. Tanjiro screwed his eyes shut tighter and grounded his teeth together, trying to ignore the new instincts within him and how they were urging him to do something so horribly terrible. He was so hungry, it felt like his body was trying to digest itself. He wanted to lift himself up and eat the body that was right next to him, unconscious and probably unable to feel any pain in dying.

But no, that was Nezuko, and he refused to eat his sister.

But you almost did.

His eyes snapped open. He made a wounded sound and felt tears start to gather in his eyes. He did, he really almost attacked and killed Nezuko.

No, he did attack her.

The memories flooded his head. Of distantly hearing someone call his name. Of being carried through the cold. Of being sat down and having his scarf wrapped around his neck. Of finally having the energy to stand and the first thing coming to mind upon seeing Nezuko being to eat her.

He pinned her to the ground. He tried to rip her throat out. He choked her.

He tried to kill her.

I almost killed Nezuko.

Tanjiro finally looked up and felt horror seeing her body now. Her haori and kimono were stained with bits of blood still wet from his clothes. Some of her hair had fallen out of her buns and her eyelids looked a little red and swollen. And her throat…

Her throat had dark red handprints circling around it.

I did this to my little sister.

He…He had become a monster.

Without another thought, Tanjiro got up and bolted.

He didn’t care that he had no idea where he was running; he just had to get away. Bare, snow covered trees blurred past him, telling him nothing about where he was going. All he knew was it was toward a more secluded part of the mountain that he hardly ever visited since he always stayed toward the path and where the family’s necessities were.

But that didn’t matter. As long as it was away from Nezuko and her scent, it was fine.

Get away…Get away…Get away from anyone you can hurt…

He wasn’t going to hurt anyone.

But that doesn’t change what you did.

He stepped on something slippery and fell, knocking the air out of his lungs. Pain burst from his right foot, and for a moment, he didn’t move. He then slowly looked back, staring at his bare foot and the odd angle it was positioned in. He didn’t know how long he kept looking at the injured foot, but eventually, something in it shifted and it didn’t hurt anymore.

That…That had been the foot he injured yesterday.

The same one that somehow healed itself today.

The same one that prevented me from protecting them.

He growled, fury and frustration and emotions he usually never felt before building up inside of him like a growing flame. His breaths quickened and his claws dug into the ground and he clenched his teeth so hard his jaw ached. Everything inside him was fighting and lashing out. Nothing would go away, only growing stronger and hotter until something animalistic in him reared its head.

And Tanjiro exploded.

He screamed and roared with every raw emotion within his body, a devastating sound echoing all around him as though he were truly the only being left alive. He pounded the ground and swept snow away with flailing arms and threw whatever snow or stones he could get his hands on. He allowed the wild fury to consume him and work himself up into a frenzy, uncaring of how toxic and good it felt to just destroy everything around him. He probably should have been scared of how he was acting, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care if pain was erupting from his hands or how he was acting like the beast that he had physically transformed into.

He tried. He really tried to be the man his father wanted him to be. He looked over his family, provided for them, and was prepared to protect them from anything that would bring them harm. His father had been such a role model for him and his family, Tanjiro did everything he could to be like him, so his spirit watching over them would be proud and at peace knowing that his legacy would not be forgotten.

It was this desire that pushed him to make those extra trips to town. To tell his younger siblings stories about the man so he would not be forgotten and to make them happy. To stay up late to quell the new fear that had been plaguing him in the form of nightmares, even if that meant standing in the snow all by himself.

To practice the Hinokami Kagura in the dead of night in frigid weather over and over again until it was perfect.

But he had failed.

When he couldn’t even take charcoal to town, he couldn’t save his family from whatever had attacked them. Everything he had done to prepare for that moment was all for nothing, destroyed in one moment in the form of a broken hatchet and dead bodies and whatever he had become.

A monster…A monster…

I’m a monster.

Tanjiro felt all of his energy leave him, the rage finally draining out of him, leaving a bone-weary sorrow. He allowed his entire body to fall to the ground and curled up, hugging himself and crying quietly into the soft white snow. It was all too much for him. Everything hurt and he just wanted it to go away.

He wanted to be a child again, free of all this pain and burden, for this to be a horrible dream that he could wake up from and to be comforted by his mother or father.

He wanted Mom to hug him and tell him everything would be alright.

He wanted Dad to tell him stories and hum the soft tunes he would sing to his children.

He wanted his younger siblings to ask him to play and laugh with them about whatever was exciting them.

He wanted Nezuko to just sit with him while they watched the snow fall when he had been outside for too long, practicing the Hinokami Kagura until his feet were numb.

He wanted his family. He wanted to go home.

I want to go home…

I want to go home…

Please let me go home…

Tanjiro didn’t know how long he laid on the ground, sobbing and wishing to turn back time. He desperately craved someone to comfort him even though no one would, leaving nothing but an empty feeling and numbing sadness.

He was content to lay like that forever.

But then…

A new scent wafted into the air.

Just eat and you’ll feel better.

The new primal instinct within him reared its ugly head once more, taking advantage of his hiccuping breathing and strong sense of smell. He felt a shift take place, forgetting his sorrow and stopping his crying, a need to find the source of the scent taking over.

He slowly lifted his head and looked behind him. The dark outline of a figure stood a good distance away, watching him. When the energy came to him to stand up, they began making their way over to him at a leisurely pace, but one with purpose and confidence.

Did they even know what he was? That he was dangerous?

When they got close enough, they stopped, standing with a relaxed posture that did not match the intensity of their eyes. They were male and dressed in black. The scent of mint and something bitter were overpowering, but just underneath it was something sweet, like fruit.

And yet, even just standing meters away from this man, another instinct was awakening inside him, warning him about the stranger. It made him tense, more alert, and a little fearful of the human in front of him.

It hit him.

This man knew exactly what Tanjiro was.

This man is here to kill me.

His painfully empty stomach clenched and growled in hunger. Drool was dripping from his mouth as he started panting and inhaling more and more of the delicious human scent. His muscles burned and his head pounded with each hard thump of his heartbeat and everything in his body screamed for him to lunge forward and devour the delicious meal that was standing here, waiting for him-

NO!

No, no Tanjiro couldn’t do that. He wouldn’t do that. That wasn’t who he was. He wasn’t going to harm another human being.

But I hurt Nezuko.

He couldn’t remember everything completely (that voice whispered he could remember if he just ate), but all he could think about were those fragmented memories from the night before and the fear in his little sister’s eyes when he had been about to kill her.

To how he had become a monster.

“Everything is okay. And you’ll protect us if you need to.”

Maybe the only way to protect his family...was to kill the monster that was threatening them.

The stranger’s posture changed and he reached behind his back, removing something long and sharp. A blade, he distantly realized, glinting bright yellow. The weapon was carefully pointed at Tanjiro, and his new body screamed for him to run, to get away, to fight the human, devour their flesh and avoid the blade.

“Remember who you are and protect your family, Tanjiro. Will you do that for me?”

Yes, I will.

He blinked, and the figure disappeared and the sound of something whistling toward him rang in his ears. But he didn’t run away. He didn’t try to defend himself and attack the human. Everything in his body hurt and he just wanted it to go away.

I will protect my family.

Even from myself.

Tanjiro fell to his knees, raised his arms out, and lifted his head heavenward. As he lost the battle to keep his consciousness, he had one last thought before closing his eyes.

I’m sorry I hurt you, Nezuko. I love you. Please forgive me.

With that, he was finally blessed with peaceful darkness.

…

…

…

…

…

But if he stayed awake just a second longer, he would have witnessed Nezuko grabbing him at the last moment and hugging him so her body protected him, redirecting the blade and cutting her hair instead of him.

Nezuko and Tanjiro rolled in the snow from the impact, only stopping when her back hit a tree. Nezuko laid there for a moment, panting while she kept a death grip on her brother. She glanced down at him, and saw that his eyes were closed and he seemed deathly still, almost like he wasn’t breathing. She moved a hand to his neck and let out a sigh of relief when she felt a steady pulse.

He must have passed out.

That…That had to be the most terrifying moment of her life (other than just discovering her murdered family). When Nezuko had broken into the clearing, she couldn’t believe that her big brother was surrendering himself to be killed by a stranger. That he was allowing himself to be killed. That he truly believed that he deserved to be killed. He seemed so broken, defeated, ready to just give in.

But that scream she heard when she had woken up…

How devastating it was…

Her brother was struggling against whatever had happened to him and feared he was going to lose himself.

So he gave himself over to…whoever that was.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Nezuko nearly forgot about the stranger.

Nezuko snapped her gaze up and saw that the stranger- a man she had never seen before- get up from the crouch he had landed and slowly turn toward her and Tanjiro. Before Nezuko could say anything, a large snow cloud blew between them, blocking her view of him. She closed her eyes against the cold breeze, and when she opened them again, the man was much closer to them, to the point that she could make him out better up-close.

He had slightly short dark hair and odd turquoise eyes that were hard and filled with a hatred Nezuko had never seen (or felt) before. He was dressed in a black kimono that had thick white lining and a dark blue obi around his waist. It was loosely tied, though, exposing his chest and revealing that he was wearing some sort of black uniform underneath. He also wore a pair of black kyahan leg wrappings with white triangle patterns, each tied with three white ribbons along with black tabi socks and white-laced zori.

But what was most interesting about his appearance were the numerous necklaces and bracelets he wore. The blue strings holding them together were wrapped tightly on him, leaving yellow magatama-like pendants dangling from them. Each wrist held two pendants while his neck only had one, somehow adding to the regal yet intimidating physical presence he was showcasing to the girl.

In his left hand was a sword that was a dark yellow with a jagged dark gray (almost black) stripe down the middle that resembled a lightning bolt. The handle was circular with four slight indents with a dark gold color and a dark silver center with smaller triangle marks. Nezuko had never seen a weapon like that before, let alone one that looked so elegant.

And his aura felt overwhelmingly cold and powerful even with distance between them. It wasn’t like Tanjiro’s was now, with a feeling of wrongness associated with it that made Nezuko feel sick. It was more like his soul had hardened into jagged stone with sharp edges preventing her from feeling anymore or seeing what was within it. She could only deduce that it was the result of a hard, sad life that drove away any warmth and kindness to remain within him.

And yet, she could vaguely sense cracks in the stone. She wondered what that was about…

“Hey! Girl! Did you hear me or are you just stupid?” the stranger barked at her. His voice was deep, with a smoothness to it that gave the impression that he carried a dignified sort of authority. But his words contradicted that.

Nezuko, despite the situation she and her brother were in, couldn’t help but feel offended. “Excuse me?”

The man narrowed his eyes. “I said, what the hell is wrong with you? Why did you get in my way?”

“B-Because this is my brother! And he needs help!” Nezuko sat up, cradling Tanjiro’s prone body closer to her. “Something’s wrong with him! He’s not himself!”

The man stared at Nezuko with a hard glare. If the situation had been different and she wasn’t still feeling the adrenaline high from everything that had just happened, it probably would have left her cowering. His turquoise gaze drifted down her brother, staring at him as though Tanjiro were a rotting carcass and not a fifteen year old boy. The man leaned against the nearest tree, crossing his arms loosely while keeping a firm grip on his blade. “You call that thing your brother?”

“Thing?” Everything this man was saying was rubbing her the wrong way and only making her feel more frustrated. “Tanjiro is not a thing! He-” Tanjiro suddenly started squirming, giving a low growl. Nezuko looked down and sure enough, her brother was awake and was acting like he did when he first attacked her, snarling and trying to escape her grip. Nezuko yelped and tried to keep a firm grip on him. “Wait Tanjiro, it's me! Remember?”

His strange eyes held none of the recognition from before on the cliffs, appearing to have reverted back to his violent mindset. It was as though everything that just happened was wiped from his memory.

Was it just a one-time occurance? Nezuko worried to herself. Was that the only moment he was able to be himself again?

Is he going to be like this forever?

“This is ridiculous,” the stranger scoffed. “It’s obvious what’s happened: your “brother” has become a demon.”

So it was true. Hearing it now from someone else finally made it sink in for her. And yet there was still shock and terror that left her feeling almost paralyzed, as though it was the first time she was having this realization. She could have denied it before, claiming that she was letting Mr. Saburo’s words and old memories get the better of her, but the truth was right in front of her now.

Tanjiro had turned into a demon.

Tanjiro chose that moment to put on a burst of strength and broke out of Nezuko’s weaken grip. Nezuko fell back into the snow while Tanjiro turned to face her, his attention returning to her with a growl. Nezuko was prepared to repeat what had happened on the path to stop her brother when it looked like he was about to lunge toward her again.

But when she blinked, Tanjiro vanished.

Nezuko stared at the empty space where he had been, confused until she heard his growling and snarling again. She looked up and saw that the stranger had somehow moved from where he had been leaning against the tree to a little farther away, and was now holding Tanjiro by his wrists behind his back with the hand that wasn’t still holding his sword. He was still looking at Nezuko with a look of contempt, and wasn’t struggling in the slightest despite how her brother was writhing in the iron grip.

I didn’t even see him move this way. How fast is this man?

“Listen kid,” the man spoke harshly, “it’s my job to kill every demon I find and due to some unfortunate circumstances, that now includes this thing .” At the last word, he gave Tanjiro a rough shake, causing the demon to give a shriek and glare at the man. His captor gave him one back, unflinching and unafraid. “I have to decapitate this demon before it does any real damage.”

“No wait, you can’t!” Nezuko pushed herself back to her feet. “Tanjiro wouldn’t hurt anyone!”

The man raised an eyebrow and pointed at Nezuko with his sword. “Those handprints on your throat say otherwise.”

Nezuko’s eyes widened and her hands flew to her throat, wincing at the pain. She had nearly forgotten that her brother had tried to choke her when he went into a frenzy. “Th-This was-”

“And there’s blood on your clothes,” the stranger continued, gesturing to the girl’s body. “Everything about your appearance suggests that you got into some sort of fight with something much bigger and stronger than you. Same with the demon.” He shook Tanjiro again, but this time her brother had a more muted response, only growling a little and keeping his gaze trained on Nezuko for some reason. The man didn’t seem to notice. “So tell me again how your precious “brother” wouldn’t hurt another living soul or even his sweet sister, huh?”

Nezuko knew to an extent that this stranger was right; Tanjiro had changed and was in a much more feral state of mind that pushed him to attack her. The evidence was all over her. And based on the pain she was feeling, she could only assume that there were more bruises on her arms and shoulders from when he had been gripping her.

But still…

“Tanjiro is still in there, I know he is,” Nezuko replied, clenching her fists and doing her best to meet the deadly stranger’s gaze without letting too much of her fear show. “He was protecting my family when they were being attacked, and stopped attacking me all on his own, and tried to get away. He was protecting me from himself, it’s the reason he ran away, it’s the reason that he surrendered himself to you! That has to count for something, doesn’t it?”

“Besides,” Nezuko continued before she could be interrupted, “back at my house, when I was checking the bodies, there was another presence that had been there. It was faint, but traces of its aura were still there over the bodies. It…It was probably the one that attacked my family!”

That…That was also something Nezuko tried not to linger until now. It was something she could barely feel at the time, and initially she thought it was Tanjiro’s new soul giving off those feelings. But now that she could put it all together, it made sense.

The feeling was so overwhelming that it caused her to be sick at the sight of her family’s corpses.

It reminded her a lot of the cold, terrifying feeling she had last night coming home.

Did she pass by her family’s murderer?

Her words didn’t seem to have the effect she hoped for with the man. His glare hardened even more and his grip on his blade tightened. “Alright, you’re clearly not understanding a fairly simple situation, so I’m gonna spell this out for you. That “presence” you felt was whatever demon had attacked your family. And somehow, during that fight, your brother’s wounds were exposed to demon blood. That’s how these man-eating monsters multiply and cause more death and carnage.”

“But Tanjiro is different! I know he is! Please, just-”

“Just what?” The man spat. “Oh for god’s sake, it was just a lucky fluke that somehow the demon remembered who it was and ran away! It’s not your precious brother anymore, it’s a starving monster looking for human flesh to eat!” He plowed on, ignoring how Tanjiro stiffened and became quiet. “I’ve been tracking this demon since I checked your home, and you know what I saw after it ran away from you? It having a rage-induced meltdown that definitely could have resulted in your death had you found it and tried to step in. This demon is a wild animal thats only instincts now are to hunt and feed on humans, it wouldn’t care if you were its family. Once it’s reached its limit on how much it can handle starvation, the demon will become incredibly dangerous and not care who you are.”

“No!” Nezuko yelled. “You’re wrong!”

A pause. An unreadable expression passed over the man’s face. When he spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper. “What did you say to me?”

“I said you’re wrong!” Nezuko felt her fists hurting from how hard she was clenching them, taking a step forward and speaking as loudly as she could despite the sparks of pain in her throat. “He knows I’m his little sister! He knows I’m his family! I won’t let him hurt anyone, and I’ll find a way to help him, to cure him!”

“There is no cure!” The man stared at Nezuko like she was crazy. “Once you become a demon, there’s no turning back! It’s too late to do anything!”

“I don’t care!” Nezuko screamed. She barely noticed how much she was shaking or if she really did sound insane, only being fueled behind the power and volume of her words. “There’s a way, there has to be and I’ll find it! I’ll kill the demon that murdered my family! I’ll do whatever it takes, I’ll make everything right, I’ll fix this! JUST LET HIM GO! DON’T KILL HIM PLEASE!”

Please…Please don’t take anyone else away from me.

Nezuko fell to her knees, the violent outburst taking everything out of her. She bowed her head into the snow, feeling more tears falling and freezing on her face. She couldn’t remember how many times she cried today, but they just kept coming with every tragedy she faced.

“Please, please…I’m begging you,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “Don’t take my big brother away from me. He’s all I have left. He shouldn’t be punished for trying to do the right thing. He’s hurting…he’s scared…but he’s not a monster. He’s my big brother.”

My big brother who I let down.

She knew that there was nothing she could have done to change the past, but still, she wished that she paid more attention to her brother and didn’t wait until the day before to voice her support for him. While she and her mother had focused on taking care of the younger ones, who was looking after Tanjiro? She knew it was in her older brother’s nature to shoulder burdens and to protect those who needed it, but in the process he often forgot to think of himself. He only wanted to do what was right, and yet Nezuko waited until right before she left to tell him that he could lean on her. Right before when they were killed.

She thought back to the night before last, how she had woken up to slight noise outside and when she investigated, found Tanjiro practicing the Hinokami Kagura in near darkness. She could only imagine how long he had already been out there and what was driving him to keep recreating their father’s dance. She had watched him perform the ritual for a while before finally making her presence known and bringing him back inside. They had sat together, watching the snowfall afterwards for a time before going to bed.

And what had she said to him?

“Everything is okay. And you’ll protect us if you need to.”

Why did she say that? How much had she been unintentionally burdening Tanjiro to the point that her brother nearly crumbled under the pressure? Tanjiro was willing to work himself to the bone and put himself in danger to protect his family. He must have been suffering so much.

And how was he rewarded?

By being turned into a demon and driven to do things he would never EVER do.

I did this, Nezuko thought to herself. Even if I didn’t turn him, I wasn’t there enough for him. I let him down.

I let him down.

“Please,” Nezuko begged, “leave him alone. Don’t kill him. Please, please,” Nezuko lifted her head and yelled “PLEASE!”

Kaigaku had seen his fair share of demons in the four years he had been slaying the monsters. He watched them curse his name, beg for their lives, even attempt to barter with him to let him go. He thought he had seen everything.

But he had never seen a demon surrender its neck before.

The demon had been a kid, and based on strange marking on its forehead and the fury it displayed in the clearing after running away, was definitely going to grow to be a powerful creature if it devoured enough humans. The thing looked ready to snap and strike at him the moment it sensed his presence.

And yet, the moment he drew his katana and lunged at it with blinding speed, the demon had fallen to its knees and made itself vulnerable.

It could be a trick, or possibly a way for it to activate its blood demon art if it was responsible for the deaths at the small home. But still…

It just gave up. Why?

It doesn’t matter, he reasoned with himself. It’ll kill the moment it’s free, consider this an easy kill.

Then the unthinkable happened.

One moment, the demon was alone on the ground, awaiting death. The next, a girl dressed in pink dove in front of the sword, hugging it protectively.

Kaigaku barely had time to redirect the motion of his blade and narrowly avoided decapitating the girl. Something soft was cut instead and snow exploded around them. He landed gracefully and swiftly rose from his crouch, seeing that he ended up cutting the girl’s hair so it was short and looked horrible.

Oh well. It was hair. She would get over it.

Especially when he would explain that he nearly severed her neck and that she was protecting a demon.

And yet, this girl-probably no older than twelve or thirteen-kept insisting that the dangerous and very deadly creature that had once been her brother was still safe and wouldn’t hurt her or anyone despite everything about her appearance suggesting otherwise. She was very stubborn and wouldn’t change her mind on the matter, turning a slightly annoying situation into a very frustrating one that prevented him from doing his job right.

Because the last thing he needed-wanted-was for this naive kid to get killed due to being blinded by her familiar bond with it.

He tried to reason with her, give her the facts straight and just get her listen, but then she told him he was wrong and that struck a nerve (and brought back some thoughts that he was still trying to let go of) and then the kid yelled more nonsense and then got on her hands and knees and started begging and then she looked up and-

The snow was gone. The air was way too humid. The scent of blossoms was sickening. He could feel their overwhelming presence behind him, waiting. And in front of him was a crying boy, kneeling and bowing into the soil, begging.

“Please, please don’t…” Then the kid looked up, amber gold eyes wide and desperate and GOOD .

“PLEASE!”

She was going to end up just like him.

“SHUT UP! JUST SHUT UP YOU STUPID BRAT!”

The girl nearly fell back in surprise and the demon jerked a little in his grasp (when had it gotten so quiet?). Kaigaku knew (somewhere deep in his head) that he was about to be an unreasonable dick (or more so than he had been since their conversation began) to this girl in denial and that he was acting more in response to memories. But he was at his wits end; it was already a bad day from the very beginning, and now too many emotions were going through him to process what the right thing to do was. So he reverted back to what he did best when dealing with something frustrating him.

Asserting that he was in the right by being an asshole.

“Don’t you dare grovel like that and make yourself weak,” Kaigaku growled. The girl looked at him in confusion with tears in her eyes, and cowered a little when he yelled at her. “All you’re doing is making yourself vulnerable, submitting yourself to a stronger opponent in place of someone else and allowing for your own slaughter! Do you know what that’s called? Throwing your life away for a meaningless cause!”

“I have no respect for people like you.” Kaigaku gave her a cruel smile and laughed. “If this is the best you have to offer, then I guess I was right about you. You’re nothing but a weak, pathetic little child who’s only good for crying. You think begging is going to convince me to spare your older brother? Hah! You’re delusional. I shouldn’t be surprised, you’re stupid enough to think that you can cure this demon.”

More tears started falling from her bright pink eyes, and the girl hunched her shoulders, lowering her gaze to the ground.

Good, she’s listening. Keep listening, kid.

“Then again, even if a cure did exist,” he continued taunting her, “how would a weakling like you have any hope of finding it? Or even just killing a demon? Don’t be ridiculous. Your weak resolve will do nothing for you, it’s the very reason why you can’t help your brother and why your words have no effect on me, let alone a demon! ”

The girl made herself look smaller and smaller with each word. Her gaze kept flickering between him and the ground in front of him as though she were trying to make sense of his words.

Just one more push.

“Look at me kid and listen!” Kaigaku yelled louder. The girl raised her head again, this time looking more anguished and despairing. Kaigaku gave her his coldest glare and pointed his sword at her, so the engraving on it that said “Destroyer of Demons” glinted ever so slightly. “The weak have no rights to living! Only the strong can stand alone and decide what is right and wrong. It’s a matter of survival of the fittest. Those who choose to make themselves weak, to throw away their lives…they deserve to be relentlessly crushed!”

And just like that, the tiny bit of fire that was lit in her eyes dimmed as she once again lowered her head in defeat.

He had done it; he had crushed her spirit and any hope she may have had. It was for the best. After all, he was preventing her from throwing her life away for a brother that had essentially died in the demon attack. There would be people in the world just as cruel as him (perhaps even more so), and this was her first lesson in dealing with them and moving on.

Don’t cry, Kaigaku told the girl in his head. Don’t let my words consume and devour any hope you may have of moving forward. I know you’re devastated by what has happened, to your family and your brother. None of this was your fault.

Maybe if I had gotten here half a day sooner, I could have prevented all of this from happening and sparing you this pain. I wish I could have done that, and prevented you from being tainted by this evil world of demons.

But there’s no turning back time. Dwelling on the past changes nothing and only serves to hinder how you will become stronger and better because of it.

Kaigaku closed his eyes and took a deep breath, allowed the freezing air to cool his head, and slowly released it, focusing on the freezing burn and the tightness of the cords wrapped around his wrists and neck to bring him back to now, to his duty.

Feel it…Feel the building rage of never forgiving and let it fuel you towards your goal, to take action. Do what needs to be done in order to save those that still can be.

Atone for your sins. Never allow yourself to falter again.

Never forgive the demons.

Kaigaku opened his eyes and poised his sword at the demon, ready to kill it with the girl distracted and looking away. But the demon cried out, also as though calling to her and giving her what looked to be a desperate expression. The girl looked up and the panic returned. “No wait, stop!”

Do it before this gets out of hand.

Kaigaku wasted no more time and stabbed the demon.

It roared in pain the same moment the girl screamed.

“DON’T YOU TOUCH HIM!”

And the fire that burned in her eyes when she had been yelling at him earlier reignited.

The girl grabbed a stone that was near her and threw it at him. Kaigaku easily deflected it, but the girl ran straight at him at the same time, disappearing when the wind blew by and a large snow cloud separated them. He could still see her footprints and looked out the corner of his eye to see her running through the trees on his left. She grabbed something he couldn’t see on the ground and threw a snowball at him, causing him to shift towards her and dodge out of its way.

The girl gave a battlecry and once again charged him head-on, this time holding her hands to her side, preparing to swing something at him.

Wait, she just had a weapon lying nearby?

“Idiot!” Kaigaku hissed. He used his blade hand to backfist the girl when she got too close, causing her to put her hands up to protect her face. His hand made contact with something hard and the girl went down, flying back a little before landing on the ground. 

There was a moment of silence, not even the demon making a sound. The girl was quiet and still, no puffs of air coming out her mouth as though she weren’t…even…breathing?

Something wasn’t adding up.

And where was the weapon she was holding?

Kaigaku carefully approached her body, slightly dragging the demon alongside him since it seemed to be just as interested in what took place. When he got close enough, he peered down and saw the girl sprawled on her back, the only thing near her being a rock still being clutched tightly in her left hand.

Was that what he hit?

His eyes widened.

I didn’t knock her out.

He barely had time to process that when several things happened.

The girl took a gasp of air and threw the rock at him.

Kaigaku once again deflected it and took a step back in surprise.

The demon roared and tried to pull away.

Kaigaku stepped on something slippery and was distracted by his slight loss of balance.

The girl shot up and kicked his hand. Hard.

And both things he had been holding onto escaped his grasps.

Kaigaku watched as his yellow sword was sent flying out of his hand and stuck itself high into the bark of one of the trees nearby. Out of pure instinct and anger (because he had had it with this kid), he gave the girl a right-hook, seeing a moment of shock on her face as though she didn’t expect what she just did to work out before crying out and falling to the ground for real. He stood there, panting and holding his hurting left hand while still trying to process what had just happened. It wasn’t until he looked down near his foot that he realized what happened.

He slipped on ice.

She knew he was going to step back.

She planned this.

When she was running in the snow, she pretended to pick up a weapon before charging him with nothing but a stone hidden in her hand. When he backhanded her, she used the stone to block the blow and pretended to be out cold. And when he got close enough, she startled him into backing into a patch of ice so she could knock out his blade.

But how did she know about the ice?

Unless…when she was looking down in defeat…

Kaigaku’s eyes widened. “Fuck.”

When I was giving my speech to her, she was looking at the ground. She was seeing where the ice was and tried to land near it so I would lose my balance.

Even if she didn’t have a plan at the time, she was still trying to find a way to fight me. How was she even strong enough to kick my sword out of my hand?

What was up with this kid?

Kaigaku barely had time to process that when he heard growling and twisted out of the way just in time to avoid being clawed in the face.

Holy crap I forgot about the demon!

The demon appeared to be incredibly agitated again, making threatening sounds and appearing very close to snapping like it did in the clearing earlier. Kaigaku instinctively reached behind him for his sword but panicked when he remembered the girl sent it flying.

Fuck!

The demon growled, poised to strike at Kaigaku when the girl whimpered. The demon tensed and whipped its head toward where she was pushing herself to her knees and cradling her cheek, eyes closed in a pained expression. Kaigaku felt his blood freeze as the demon roared and lunged for her, claws outstretched and mouth displaying its sharp teeth. 

Fuck! He’s going to kill her!

He was already trying to formulate a plan to either grab the girl and run or tackled the demon and knock it out when-

“Tanjiro wouldn’t hurt anyone!”

The demon forced itself to stop just in front of her. 

“He knows I’m his little sister!”

It turned back to face Kaigaku.

“Tanjiro is different! I know he is!”

And Kaigaku could only stand there, watching in disbelief the scene unfolding before him.

The demon still had the feral look in its eyes and posture, but the presence it gave off had…shifted. It was growling lowly, with its arms outstretched to the sides so that it created a barrier between him and the girl. She was staring at the demon with a look of shock and awe as though she couldn’t believe what she was witnessing.

The demon was protecting her.

How…How was this possible?

Kaigaku remembered hearing stories of the demons since he was a child. He’d met demons up close and knew that the only thing they cared about were devouring humans and doing whatever it took to accomplish that. He himself had witnessed the carnage they would bring about more times than he could count, before and during his time as a Demon Slayer.

A demon’s only goal was to destroy and grow stronger.

But this demon, who was covered in blood and starving from healing its injuries. Who he had watched destroy its surroundings after working itself up into a rage.

Who afterwards collapsed upon itself and began crying…

Who became silent at times whenever Kaigaku spoke lowly of it or the girl…

Who was now standing before him, ready to fight for the girl’s safety…

Kaigaku had never seen anything like it before.

What are you?

Nezuko didn’t think she would get this far.

For one heartbreaking moment, Nezuko thought that she was going to lose her brother and that she would be powerless to do anything. No one had ever spoken so cruelly to her before, making her feel small and weak. She knew there was some truth to the man's words, but the feelings coming off of him…the emotions were bitter and soured yet real.

What had this man been through to see life like this?

But then Tanjiro called out and there was a look in his eyes for a second that was almost pleading, and when he was stabbed-

Nezuko felt driven to try one last time.

And somehow she kicked a sword out of the stranger’s hand (because at the time the only thought she had was to just to disarm him) and got punched in the face and nearly blacked out again. And then Tanjiro had been freed and protected her.

She could hardly believe all of that happened in the span of minutes, and yet here she was, lying on the ground was a bruising cheek that hurt almost as much as the time her older brother had accidentally headbuted her when they were playing in the snow as children, staring at him now standing above her ready to fight the stranger if he got any closer.

“T-Tanjiro?” Nezuko whispered. Her brother didn’t respond, only growling threateningly at the man, who was staring at them in shock and disbelief. But he eventually shook his head and the angery expression from before returned. Tanjiro roared in response and chose that moment to charge him. “Tanjiro wait!”

The demon had barely taken a few steps before the man was much closer than before and used his right hand to chop the side of his neck. Tanjiro made a choked sound and immediately went down. Nezuko crawled toward him and grabbed his body, quickly finding his pulse and reassuring herself that he was breathing.

“What a pair you two make.”

Nezuko looked up and saw the stranger walking away, shaking his head and grumbling to himself. He stopped by one of the trees and jumped, taking the form of a blur before materializing back on the ground, a small ring of snow dusting him. He had his sword in his right hand and spun it a few times before looking back at Nezuko. She felt her grip on her brother tighten.

“B-But you saw,” Nezuko pleaded as the man made his way back over. “You saw he protected me! Please, there has to be a way-”

“It doesn’t change the fact that your brother’s now a demon,” the man spoke over her. His words didn’t sound like they were trying to be purposefully cruel this time; only stating simple facts. “Listen, I can’t let it go because there’s the chance that something will go wrong and it’ll devour someone. As the demon slayer who found it, it’s my responsibility to kill it. That’s just the way it is.”

Nezuko’s eyes widened. Demon slayer. Didn’t Mr. Saburo mention them?

“The Demon Slayers protect us by killing as many as they can. They always have.”

So they were protectors who took responsibility for the demons they killed. Then maybe there was still a way out of this.

“What if I became a demon slayer?”

The man blinked. “What?”

“I become a demon slayer. That way I can protect Tanjiro and take responsibility for him. Would you let him live then?”

The man stared at her blankly. Then he started laughing like she had just told him something hilarious.

“I-I’m serious!” Nezuko said, her dislike for the man returning. She hated the feeling of being mocked, especially from him. “I can do it! Whatever it takes, I-”

Slam!

Nezuko yelped and hugged Tanjiro closer when the man thrust his sword into the ground with an excessive amount of force that she feared he cracked the ground beneath the snow. His expression changed to one of immense fury as he pointed a finger at her and got very close to her face.

“Listen here you annoying brat,” he hissed with enough venom to match the words from his speech earlier. “You can’t just become a demon slayer. It’s not some easy task and takes years to even master the techniques. This is a serious profession that people die from. The fact that you think you can just pick up a sword and magically become someone who can protect that thing and earn respect from people like me is disgusting. Little girls like you don’t belong in the Corps, so don’t you dare go around saying stuff like that.”

“I can! I swear I can!” Nezuko tried to find something, anything to say to convince this man to let her brother go. Then it hit her.

“If you let me try and I fail, then you can kill Tanjiro.”

The man narrowed his eyes. “No.”

“Just listen to me please. You’re not going to lose anything hearing me out. Just please give me this chance to explain.”

The man looked one second away from just retrieving his sword and killing her brother (and maybe her too with the murderous look in his eyes), but eventually he sighed, rubbing his eyes and muttering something under his breath before gesturing with his hand for her to continue.

At least he’s going to listen.

“You said that as a demon slayer, it’s your responsibility to kill whatever demons you come across. But what if someone took over that responsibility for you? If I became a demon slayer and took Tanjiro under my care, then I would be responsible for him and you wouldn’t have to deal with him or me anymore.”

The man groaned. “Kid, no, that’s not how this-”

“You said my weak resolve will keep me from protecting my brother. What if I prove you wrong? I’ll become a demon slayer and take any sort of fallout regarding Tanjiro. If I fail…” Nezuko squeezed Tanjiro tighter and took a shaky breath. “If I can’t do it, then…you can kill Tanjiro and I promise I won’t fight you anymore. You have my word.”

The two stared at each other. Nezuko could feel the chaotic amount of emotions battling within the stranger as he had an internal battle over what to do. It seemed like his more logical side was telling him to just kill her brother and be done with this. But there was a tiny part of him that was being rubbed the wrong way (like she was by him) by what she had been saying to him during their argument earlier.

And that part of him HATED being told he was wrong.

Which is why she hoped- prayed that the tiny petty part of him (and maybe some hidden kindness that she couldn’t sense) would hear her words and see an opportunity to prove himself right.

The man grabbed the hilt of his sword, pulled it out of the ground, and stared at the yellow blade for a moment. His turquoise eyes moved between the shining steel and Tanjiro, his brow furrowed in either concentration or frustration. At one point his gaze landed on Nezuko again, eyeing her critically before closing his eyes and shaking his head.

And then…

He sheathed his sword.

“Alright.”

What?

Nezuko could hardly believe her ears. “Y-You’ll let me-”

“Shut up and let me speak, girl!”

Nezuko shut her mouth and watched as he opened his eyes and straightened himself a little more, suddenly becoming just as intimidating as he had been when she first saw him in the clearing.

“Here’s what’s going to happen. Out of the tiny shred of mercy I have for you and the demon, I’m giving you the chance to become a slayer before I kill that thing. This is going to be an official wager between the two of us to determine whether or not you can become a demon slayer. And I get to set the rules for this little, “experiment.” You got that?”

The girl nodded. The man then held out two fingers.

“I’m giving you two years to train before you have to take Final Selection on Mt. Fujikasane. That’s the entrance exam that determines whether you become a demon slayer or not. If you pass that,” he said as he pointed a finger at Tanjiro, “the demon gets to live, and he becomes your problem, and I no longer have any involvement with this issue.”

“However,” the man continued, his tone becoming more dark as he leaned in closer to Nezuko and jabbed a finger at her. “If you are unable to master the skills you need before time is up, die, or give up, I get to kill that repulsive thing. If you run out of time and try to run away, I will find you and the demon and kill you both. You can run to the most desolate village, take a boat to a whole new continent, hell, live underground! You can go anywhere in the world, but I will find you. And when I do, I’ll take the most immense pleasure in killing that demon AND you for all the trouble you caused me today and are going to cause me later. Mark my words; you can’t hide from me, so you have no choice but to see your way through this.”

The man leaned back, and held out his hand. “So, do we have a deal?”

Nezuko stared at the hand for a moment, feeling a bit of doubt hitting her. She didn’t need to touch this man to know that he wasn’t lying about anything he was saying; he would let her and Tanjiro go for two years as long as she worked to become a slayer. But he seemed dead serious about hunting them down if she decided to chicken out and try to hide from him. He was dead-set on upholding his end of their wager, so it was up to her to go through with hers.

Was two years even enough time? She wasn’t even sure what to do, where to even begin. For all she knew, becoming a demon slayer took more time and she wouldn’t be prepared for whatever Final Selection was.

And what if I die? Nezuko thought to herself in a panic. What if I put all that effort into preparing, and die right at the beginning or the end? It would have been all for nothing.

But then she thought of Tanjiro, who had done nothing but put his life on the line for the family even when the situation seemed hopeless and tried to protect her. Even when he struggled against his demonic transformation and urges, he tried and was rewarded with having moments of his humanity return to him.

Her brother spent his entire life being the one putting himself between his loved ones and danger.

It was time she did the same.

For Tanjiro.

“Deal.”

Nezuko took the man’s calloused hand and shook it. He grinned sharply and gripped hers tightly. “I’ve never lost a wager before, so good luck.”

Nezuko met his gaze with a glare. “There’s a first time for everything.”

He raised an eyebrow and chuckled. “I guess you do have a little fire in you after all.”

With that, he let go and began walking away, lifting a hand in a half-hearted wave. “See you in two years, brat.”

“W-Wait!” Nezuko called. He stopped as she sat up a little better. “Where do I go to train?”

“I don’t know. Figure it out yourself.” He looked over his shoulder. “This has nothing to do with me.”

“It won’t be much of a wager if I can’t even learn how to fight, right?” Nezuko asked.

The man narrowed his eyes before groaning. “Fine.” He turned around and reached into his kimono, grabbing something and tossing it to her. “Here.”

Nezuko reached out and caught the object. Opening her hand, she saw that it was another magatama pendant, but the blue string was snapped so the ends were fraying. The pendant itself was also heavily cracked with blue markings spider-webbing from the small opening.

“Head east.” Nezuko looked back up at the man. His back was turned to her, the winter wind gently blowing at his kimono as he spoke. “There’s a peach orchard where an old man named Jigoro Kuwajima lives.” He turned his head a little so she could see some of his face. “When you find him, tell him Kaigaku Inadama sent you and show him that. He may consider teaching you something.”

“Thank you,” Nezuko whispered, bringing the broken pendant to her chest. The man looked forward again and started walking away. But he once again stopped.

“Never let the demon be exposed to sunlight.”

Nezuko clutched the pendent and her brother tighter.

“It’s cloudy, so it should be fine for now. But find shelter for it during the day. Also, find something to muzzle the demon. Even if you claim it to be good, it needs the precaution.” A pause. “Words alone are never enough to convince others.”

And without another word, the mysterious man, Kaigaku Inadama, vanished in a cloud of snow.

Hours later, Nezuko was back at her home, kneeling in front of five freshly dug graves in the falling snow.

Nezuko prayed for many things as she said her goodbyes to her younger siblings and mother. She prayed for their safe passage into the spirit world, and that they would find happiness there (and perhaps reunite with their father). She prayed that she would never forget them and carry their memory with her for however long she would live. She prayed that they would watch over her as she and her brother traveled on a new mission that would decide their fate in the years to come.

And she prayed that they would help Tanjiro remember who he was, so that he may fight against the demonic curse plaguing him.

She prayed most of all for the last one.

When she finally forced herself to finish her farewells and lifted herself off the ground, Nezuko glanced at Tanjiro. The demon was staring ahead, a softer, more calm look in his strange pink-red eyes. She had dressed him in his normal day-to-day clothes, right down to his favorite green checkered haori. She left his newly bright red hair down, as the ties he normally used were too thin for how thick it had gotten. And per Kaigaku’s instructions, when she found Tanjiro’s scarf in the snow coming back, tied it around his mouth so it acted as a mask/muzzle for the time being.

All he was missing was…

Nezuko reached into her kimono and pulled out the crumpled hanafuda earrings, now wrapped carefully in a soft cloth. After lying in the snow for so long and being damaged, Nezuko feared there was nothing to be done about their family’s most precious heirloom (she didn’t like thinking about how when she cleaned up Tanjiro, there was blood caked over his earlobes). Still, she refused to just throw them away. So, she held onto them until she could decide what to do with them.

“I’ll figure this out, all of this,” Nezuko said to herself. She put the earrings away, took one last look at her family’s graves, and gently grabbed Tanjiro’s hand. “It's time to go now.”

Tanjiro didn’t respond, but allowed his sister to guide him away from the dug pit. As they slowly walked away from their home for the last time, Nezuko felt his hand squeeze hers and suddenly remembered what her brother had told her just yesterday as she was leaving for town.

“I know you’re going to do great things one day. I am here for you too, wherever you go and whatever you decide to do. I promise.”

Nezuko let out a soft gasp, and looked at Tanjiro. His gaze remained unchanged, but his grip remained tight. It was a small gesture, but it was all the encouragement she needed.

You can depend on me now, big brother. I promise, I’ll protect you.

No matter what it takes.

With that, Nezuko took a deep breath, set a determined look on her face, and ran with Tanjiro away from everything they knew.

Together, they took their first steps into the world of demons, and never looked back.

Chapter Text

Nezuko and Tanjiro often took turns reading to their younger siblings.

It was something their father loved to do with them when they were really little. Sometimes he would read from the meager supply of books they were able to afford in their trips to town. Other times he would make up tales based on the day's events. More often than not, though, he would tell them stories that had been passed down to him from his own father (their grandfather). Those would be the most mesmerizing tales, telling of bravery and warriors of good, each with their own messages rooted in spreading kindness and other important lessons.

And so following the passing of their father, the two eldest siblings took it upon themselves to continue to tell these stories.

But today (or tonight, rather), Nezuko was reading from one of the few books they kept at home. She was sitting up in her futon with her foot propped while Hanako and Rokuta sat by her, listening with rapt attention as she read the small adventure story aloud. She could hear Takeo having some sort of mini argument with Shigeru over something, but it was quiet enough that it didn’t seem to be serious and sounded more playful. Her mother was in the other room, getting ready for bed and coming in soon to tell the kids to go to sleep. And Tanjiro was-

Wait, where was Tanjiro?

Their mother walked in and told everyone to get ready for bed. Hanako begged for one more chapter and Takeo said something too, but their mother was firm about it being late and all of them needing their rest. Nezuko promised to read more to them tomorrow, giving her younger sister and little brother pats on the head. She closed the book and watched her siblings move to bed. She glanced at the doorway, as though she were expecting someone to come in at any moment.

She was probably waiting for Tanjiro. Yes, he went out to sell charcoal earlier so he should be back by now. It was going to snow a lot the next day and the ice was dangerous. He should have been back by now-

She jumped when a hand touched her shoulder. She looked up, and her mother said something reassuring, the older woman’s purple eyes silently backing up her words. Nezuko still felt a pang of worry, but allowed herself to be comforted for the time being. After all, Tanjiro probably stayed down the mountain for safety. That’s what she would do.

Nezuko gave the door one last look, and allowed the bits of worry plaguing her mind to rest for now. Everything would be fine, she would see her brother in the morning. They were safe.

There was no need to-

BOOM!

The door to their house was blown down, cold air blasting inside and stealing the light of their lanterns.

There were screams. There was crying. Nezuko heard her mother say something. Nezuko sprung out of bed and grabbed the hatchet nearby.

A figure with red eyes walked inside and landed their gaze on her.

They reeked with the scent of evil and death.

“Leave!”

They smiled.

Nezuko took a step forward to charge the intruder and felt stabbing pain in her ankle, forcing her to stumble a little.

Something cold grabbed her and she was flung outside into the freezing snow. She felt as though all of the air had been knocked out of her lungs and her entire body burned in the snow. She didn’t know where the hatchet had gone.

No…No…No…

There was more screaming and crying. Someone was begging. The sound of banging and something wet being spilled echoed clearly in the cold silence. 

Nezuko couldn’t move.

NO NO NO NO NO NO!

And then it all stopped.

Everything was quiet, and faintly she could hear crunching snow as someone approached where she was paralyzed and unable to move. Something cold grabbed her by the throat and lifted her, forcing her to meet blood red eyes and a face concealed by darkness.

They said something, but she wasn’t paying attention. All she could feel at that moment was a burning hatred toward this person, whoever…whatever they were. It was such a foregin emotion, something she had never felt before, but she allowed herself to indulge the feeling, to let it course through her like the blood in her veins.

This THING had killed them all.

And she would never forgive it.

They smiled, as though reading her thoughts, then reached for one of her earrings and-

…

…

…

The faint sound of bells…

And a quiet, deep voice…

“Remember.”

Nezuko gasped awake.

Her eyes darted around, only seeing darkness and what looked like walls. She didn’t know where she was, but it wasn’t her home. Was the intruder still nearby? Was Tanjiro okay?

A hand gripping her right one tightened.

Nezuko looked to her side and saw her demon brother asleep, chest slowly rising and falling. A bit of faint moonlight illuminated his face so she could see his bright red hair and new flame scar.

Right. They were in a small cave, taking a break from traveling so Nezuko could sleep. Nothing bad had happened since coming home and meeting that demon slayer.

Everything was alright. Well, as alright as their situation could be.

It was just a dream.

A very scary, realistic dream.

Nezuko curled up on her side so she was snuggled up against Tanjiro and still clinging to his hand tightly. Even though she couldn’t sleep for the rest of the night, the fear from her nightmare slowly faded.

The only thing she couldn’t forget, even awake, were those red eyes. And the voice.

Why were they both so familiar?

“Excuse me, sir? Would it be alright if I took that old basket with some straw and bamboo?”

The farmer looked up from where he was working and looked toward where Nezuko was pointing to the scatter materials off to the side. He shrugged, getting to his feet. “You’re more than welcome to it. Though it probably won’t do you much good. That basket’s full of holes.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Nezuko replied. “Thank you so much. Please let me pay you for it.”

The farmer waved his hand. “No, don’t worry about it. I don’t need it anyways. Same for the straw and bamboo.”

Nezuko still reached into her kimono and pulled out a small amount. “Really, I’d like to pay you for it.”

The farmer shook his head. “I told you, it’s fine.”

“Let me pay you!”

“No! Just take the stuff, you stubborn kid!”

“I REFUSE!”

“JUST LET IT GO, KID! THAT’S MY FINAL WORD ON THE MATTER!”

Nezuko glanced at the man and his wife (who had been watching the exchange from the side with a confused expression), and sighed, lowering her hand with the money. “Are you sure?”

“Yes!” The farmer made a shooing motion at her. “You’re very kind to offer but it’s fine. Please don’t worry about it.”

“Alright,” Nezuko said. She gave the couple a short bow. “Thank you for your kindness.” She then held out her hand for the man to shake. He gave her a strange look, but shook it nonetheless. But he then raised an eyebrow at her appearance, his gaze zeroing on her bruised throat.

“Hey, are you-?”

“TAKE THE MONEY!”

Nezuko gripped his hand hard and used her other hand to put the few coins she had forcibly in his palm. The man looked on with shocked. “What the-?!”

“TAKE THIS SMALL OFFERING FOR YOUR TROUBLE, PLEASE SIR!” Nezuko then ran toward where the materials were and gathered them quickly before running back the way she came, passing by the flabbergasted man and his equally shocked wife. “THANK YOU FOR YOUR GENEROSITY!”

Nezuko didn’t look back at how the couple reacted as she ran away, but a few quick glances behind after a while gave her enough calm to slow her pace to a walk back to where she and Tanjiro were staying. She knew she may have been a little pushy with offering the money, but she would have felt guilty taking the items without offering anything in return.

Plus, she didn’t want to bring too much attention to her lopsided hairdo and the reddish-purple bruising still fading from her throat.

Maybe I should have asked for more cloth, Nezuko thought as she walked through the slightly rural area to the cave. Or at least something that can be used to properly cover Tanjiro’s mouth. Then I can at least use the scarf.

The idea of having to muzzle her brother still left a sour taste in her mouth that just didn’t sit right with her. She knew the reason for it was important and necessary, but that didn’t make doing it any easier. At least the scarf seemed mostly humane and didn’t hurt Tanjiro. But it was still slightly torn and could rip easily if he tried to claw it off. So maybe the scarf just needed to be replaced altogether.

Add that to the list of things she hadn’t thought of addressing yet.

One thing at a time. First, fix-up the basket. Then worry about finding more cloth.

Nezuko saw ahead the small cave she and her brother had spent the night in. She sped walked the rest of the way to the entrance, setting the basket and materials down before crouching to peek inside.

“Tanjiro, I’m back.” Nezuko scanned the small space and frowned when she didn’t see her brother. The only thing she could make out were his green and black checkered haori in the very back along with her brown one. She had left hers for Tanjiro to use as a blanket since he was still sleeping when she left. But now they were bundled in the back all by themselves. “Tanjiro? Where are you?”

The haori pile shifted and Tanjiro’s head peeked out from underneath. He made a low groaning sound, and his gaze looked unhappy as he stared back at his sister.

“Are…you okay?” Nezuko asked, coming inside the cave and approaching the bundle. He grunted and moved his head a little so he was looking around her. Nezuko followed his gaze and realized that a little more sunlight was starting to reach inside the cave. “Oh I see, the sun’s bothering you.” She turned back and gave him a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry Tanjiro, I guess demons really don’t like sunlight.” Tanjiro nodded in agreement before pulling his checkered haori over his head and disappearing once more.

So I guess Mr. Kaigaku was telling the truth about the sun. I can’t believe he almost walked away without telling me about that.

Actually…I’m surprised he said anything about it.

Well, at least Tanjiro is trying to adapt to the situation, even if it means he’s acting like a turtle. If it were me, I’d probably dig a hole.

“Don’t worry, Tanjiro. I think I have a solution to fix this,” Nezuko said as she turned around and brought the basket and materials closer to her. She moved the basket in front of herself and tried to position her body to block as much sunlight as possible. “Just give me a little time.”

With that, Nezuko spent the next hour or so working on patching the old basket up with the straw and bamboo. It wasn’t too hard; it was just time-consuming to weave together the strands she was making while ensuring that all of the holes were covered. It reminded her a bit of whenever her younger siblings would ask for her help whenever one of their toys would break or clothes were ripped while her parents were busy. She liked helping with tasks like these-they were like puzzles, and there was just something relaxing about working on such tasks that made her enjoy them even more.

The only time the basket gave her a little trouble was with splitting the bamboo. Since the family hatchet had been destroyed, the only weapon Nezuko had managed to find before leaving home that might be useful was a hunting knife that was rarely used. The bamboo was pretty sturdy, but it did seem a bit dried out so she developed a system of sawing up the pieces as much as she could with the knife before either using a hard rock to bash the cracks open more or kicking it down the rest of the way.

Once the basket was patched up and in better condition than it was before, Nezuko once again addressed where her brother was hiding under their haoris. “Tanjiro, take a look.”

Her demon brother once again lifted a portion of his haori enough to peek out a little and see her handy work. He still looked mildly displeased, but she deduced it probably had more to do with the sunlight that was still creeping in a bit into the cave. Still, he poked his head out a little more to see the whole basket and gave a light hum and nod after giving it a once over.

Nezuko smiled at her brother’s attempt to praise her work. “Thanks Tanjiro. I figured I can use this to carry you during the day so we can keep moving.” Tanjiro’s eyebrows rose a little, but he squinted at the basket and tilted his head. Nezuko put the basket on its side so the opening faced him. “Here, do you think you can fit inside?”

Tanjiro stared at the basket for a moment, but eventually rose from his crouch and sat back on his knees, letting the coats he had hidden under fall around him. He titled his head again, glanced at Nezuko, then back at the basket, then back at her again.

“What?” Nezuko asked.

Tanjiro turned back to the basket and grabbed it by the rim. He then proceeded to lift it over his head and let go.

“Oh.”

It only covered the upper half of his body.

Nezuko could see the problem.

“Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea,” Nezuko said, slightly disappointed. Tanjiro hummed, letting his arms fall to his sides, so even with the basket on she could still see his hands and most of his forearms. “Sorry, Tanjiro. I guess we’ll have to think of something else.”

Nezuko crawled past her brother and picked up his discarded haori to help him put it back on. She paused when she noticed that the ends of the sleeves were starting to fray a little. One of them also had a small tear in it.

She sighed, feeling the bit of stress from earlier building back. She still needed to mend her kimono a bit too since there were a few tears and bits of blood from that day. Her haori too, but it was dark enough that the stains were hard to see so she could put that off and hide most of her kimono.

(Not to mention the fact that she and Tanjiro were on a bit of a time constraint. Even though two years was far off from now, she knew that learning to fight would definitely took a great deal of time and she needed all the experience she could get. 

One day could mean the difference between life and death.)

But this was her brother’s favorite haori and she felt bad putting it off.

He deserved to have his favorite belonging taken care of.

It’s hard to believe how much it had to be fixed over the years. Nezuko couldn’t help but smile to herself. He’s grown so much. I can’t believe Mom was able to fix it so it would be big enough for him.

Nezuko paused. Wait.

Big enough…

She thought back to when Tanjiro had first turned into a demon and had attacked her. He had grown bigger at one point to try and overpower her, and was able to shrink back down to his normal height as well.

Could he manipulate his size?

“Hey, Tanjiro?” Nezuko turned back to face her brother, and found that he had not moved from his spot, the basket still on his head. He hummed and shuffled on his knees to face her. It threw her off a little, but she shook her head and helped guide his hands to lift the basket so she could see his face. “Uh, remember when you got really big the other day? Do you think you could try and get smaller?”

Tanjiro tilted his head, staring at her with a blank expression. Nezuko made sure he kept the basket above his face, and put her hands parallel to each other, bringing them closer together to create a visual of someone getting shorter. “Smaller. Like, Rokuta size? To fit in the basket.”

Tanjuro’s eyes focused on the space being manipulated between Nezuko’s hands. With a firm grunt, the demon let go of the rim and once again allowed the basket to fall over his body. This time, he made more of a growling sound and started shaking and twisting his body as though trying to escape invisible bindings. But as he did this, the basket began to lower to the ground, making more of Tanjiro’s body disappear. He was even able to stand without worry of hitting his head against the cave ceiling, but his feet quickly vanished and soon enough, all Nezuko could see was the upside down container.

“Tanjiro?” There was a hum, and tiny fingers peeked out from underneath and lifted the basket, revealing a child-size Tanjiro sitting on the ground in his now oversized clothes.

Nezuko couldn’t help but gasp and clap her hands. “You did it, Tanjiro!” She scooted closer, giving her brother a pat of the head. His eyes closed in delight and he leaned into the touch. “Good job! I’m so proud of you!”

Finally, one of their problems had been solved!

When Nezuko had been confronted by the swordsman and given a chance to prove herself as a demon slayer, she had most of her focus on just doing whatever it took to get Tanjiro out of a situation that would have ended with his head cut off. So in all honesty, she probably overlooked a few minor details.

Where she and Tanjiro were going to stay most nights.

How she was going to pay for food with the meager amount of money they had.

What she was going to use to properly muzzle her brother long-term.

But the one thing she realized at the time was she needed to find someone to train her. Because in all her twelve years, the closest thing to a weapon she had ever held was a kitchen knife. And the man, Kaigaku, thankfully answered her request by telling her to head east to find a peach orchard.

It wasn’t until several days later, when Nezuko truly believed that she had a plan constructed, that she came to a very crucial realization.

She had been given incredibly vague directions.

The young girl and her brother simply headed east after leaving their home, but it wasn’t until the basket situation had been settled that Nezuko began actually asking for directions. Of course, the only way she could ask for directions was stopping people and asking them if they knew of a peach orchard. And unfortunately, it seemed as though no such location existed (at least within the area) according to the locals.

So for nearly a week, Nezuko traveled during the day with Tanjiro in the basket (covered by a large cloth she managed to come across-some of which she cut and tied around her neck to hide her bruises) in the general east direction. At night, if she wasn’t still tired, she would continue walking with Tanjiro out. Even if her brother was unable to say anything, she would try to talk to him about whatever she had observed hours earlier and ideas she had about where the mystery location may end up being.

It was weird. Nezuko could no longer get a clear read on Tanjiro since the day he had turned. Whenever she touched him, there was still a feeling of wrongness that could be sensed in his aura. But since then, the cold and sickly feeling had begun to wane, so she felt more slightly uncomfortable than filled with terror being near him. She assumed that it may be linked to his behavior, as Tanjiro had become much more mellow and willing to let Nezuko guide him around. It was almost as though he was lost in his own head daydreaming or half-asleep most of the time.

As much as the new behavior worried her, Nezuko decided that it was better than him trying to attack her. She couldn’t detect any feelings of pain from Tanjiro, so she chose to stay optimistic and saw it as a sign her brother was trying to find a balance between himself and his newly found demonism.

But it was also thanks to his new form that the pair were able to find their destination.

On the seventh day of their travel, Nezuko decided to rest by a river that was in a more forested area before continuing for a few more hours. It was late-evening and the sun had all but vanished from the dark purple and faint orange sky, so she figured she could catch up on sleep until it was dark enough to continue with her brother out of the basket. Satisfied with that plan, she let Tanjiro out of the basket, and after making sure that he was situated to keep watch, slept for a few hours against a tree.

When she woke up, it was night, and the area was alight with enough moonlight to make out her surroundings. She rubbed her eyes and found that her haori had been taken off and put over her to act like a blanket. Nezuko smiled at the gesture and looked up to find Tanjiro sitting on the ground a little ways off, staring off into the distance. He immediately turned back to her as though sensing her gaze on him and crawled towards her. The demon wasted no time removing the haori and opening it so Nezuko could easily slip it back on.

“Thank you, brother,” Nezuko said, allowing him to help her put her haori back on. “I’m feeling a lot more rested. Let’s keep going.”

Tanjiro nodded, and they both got up. Nezuko helped put the empty basket on Tanjiro’s back for him to carry and took his hand to lead him. However, as they took a few steps forward, something fell to the ground. Nezuko looked behind her and realized that the pendant she had been given fell out of her haori.

“Oh, we can’t leave that behind,” she said to herself. She bent down and picked up the broken necklace, giving it a once over to make sure it was still okay. Her thumb did linger on the blue cracks that stretched across the faded yellow surface, though.

It was strange; although she could sense a human presence lingered on it, there was also a detached emotion she could still make out of it. Usually, she could only use her ability to sense feelings and auras on humans (and sometimes animals), but objects were harder. She couldn’t track where the pendant had come from, but she could still feel something on it.

It felt vaguely like the feeling of…heartbreak.

Had that man been wearing this? Or did it belong to someone else?

Nezuko tried showing it to a few people when asking for directions, hoping they might recognize someone wearing it in the past. But no one had ever seen it before, so Nezuko figured it was a lost cause.

“Hmph?”

Nezuko looked up and noticed Tanjiro peering at the necklace. She held it out to him. “I think this belonged to the demon slayer. I have to give this to the old man at the peach orchard so he’ll teach me.” She allowed Tanjiro to take it and examine it closer. “It’s really interesting, huh?”

The demon hummed. He almost seemed transfixed by the object, staring at it intently in his cupped hands. His eyes widened somewhat, as though realizing something, and gripped the necklace by the pendent itself. His expression became more focused, bringing the charm closer to his face and sniffing it.

Wait, is he…

Nezuko felt her own eyes widen when she realized what he was trying to do.

Tanjiro must be trying to see if it still has a scent he can follow!

“Brother, you’re a genius!” Nezuko exclaimed. She completely forgot that Tanjiro had inherited their father’s incredible sense of smell. Her brother had often used it as a way to locate people or objects, as well as to read people and their emotions/levels of honesty, similar to her. However, her brother’s nose was always stronger than her own senses, so perhaps he could trace the pendant back to the supposed orchard they were looking for. “Do you think you can track the orchard with it?”

Tanjiro hummed, smelling the pendant a few more times before lifting his head and sniffing the air. He took slow, hesitant steps around them, his eyes closed and brows furrowed in concentration. He did this for a few minutes, wandering around and moving in small circles. Nezuko didn’t want to interrupt whatever process her brother was attempting to create in tracking the scent, but she soon began to worry that it either didn’t exist or was just too faint for Tanjiro.

Afterall, the orchard may still be miles away.

Maybe we waited too long and the object lost whatever scent it may have had.

Nezuko was about to tell Tanjiro that they should probably keep moving and perhaps try again later, but suddenly the demon stiffened and dropped the necklace. He dropped to the ground and started sniffing the path they had been following, but slowly crawled towards the left, where there would be nothing but forest. At the same moment Nezuko moved around to look at his face, Tanjiro’s eyes flew and he launched himself in the direction he was now facing.

“Tanjiro wait!” Nezuko’s call was ignored as the demon ran off the path and into the trees. She quickly grabbed the dropped pendant and gave chase to her older brother.

Immediately her surroundings darkened, leaving her with very little light to navigate due to the immense foliage above and below them. The only source of semi-visibility she had came from the faint moonlight filtering from above and it was just enough that Nezuko could at least avoid tripping over any fallen trees or branches. Thankfully, Tanjiro’s hair was now a bright enough red that even with the faint light she could keep track of him and follow. But it still wasn’t easy due to how fast he was running and how little he seemed to care about bumping into or tripping over something.

Normally Nezuko could easily outrun her brother, but combined with the amount of woodland obstacles, darkness, and Tanjiro’s newfound speed, she was lagging very far behind.

When did he get so fast?

“Tanjiro, hold on!” Nezuko called out. “I-I can’t keep up! You have to slow down!” Her running was becoming more of a stumble through the forest undergrowth with low tree branches and bushes whacking her and pulling at her haori and kimono. Even though she was creating tears in her clothing and was becoming more and more covered in dirt and leaves, her attention rested on the widening distance between them and how it was growing to the point that her brother was becoming more of a faint red blur. “Tanjiro, please, wait! W-We need to stay together or we might-AUGH!”

Nezuko was cut off when her left foot got caught on a large tree root and tripped. She fell to the forest floor, but quickly got up. She had barely taken another step before her movement was hindered and nearly tumbled down again. Her hand flailed out and braced herself against a tree on her right, feeling slight stinging from the roughness of the bark. She glanced down and found the bottom and sleeve of her haori were caught on what seemed to be a very prickly bush (she couldn’t see in the dark). Nezuko pulled at her overcoat with frantic yanks until the fabric ripped free, causing her to actually fall again on the tree roots and cut her arm a bit. Still, she ignored the aching protests of her body and forced herself up.

Upon looking around, though, Nezuko found no sign of her brother.

She was all alone in the dark.

“Tanjiro?” Nezuko took a few unsteady steps in the direction she had been running in, trying to see in the pitch black darkness for his red hair or any sign of him. “Brother, where did you go? Tanjiro?”

There was no reply. All alone and without anything to guide her, the forest shadows and sounds suddenly became much more ominous. As Nezuko tread carefully in the dark, she felt her breathing beginning to pick up from the slight panting she had been doing earlier from running, burning her still tender throat and making it painful to swallow. Her heart was thumping painfully against her chest as her eyes darted around her surroundings. When a branch snapped nearby, Nezuko nearly shrieked and found her hands clutching her chest, cradling her slightly bleeding arm. She barely even noticed that she was shaking.

Nezuko wasn’t a fan of the dark. It was a slight fear she had growing up as a child, so used to constantly living with light that it took her many years to learn to sleep without a candle, only comforted with being near or surrounded by her family. It was also probably heighted due to the fact that whenever she did go out, it was with a family member or for a special celebration (such as the yearly performance of the Hinokami Kagura). Being alone and unable to see without any light had made her feel isolated and trapped in a sea of darkness, but it was one that she learned to overcome as she got older and eventually conquered thanks to her older brother and father.

So she couldn't understand why she was reacting this way to a fear she had conquered.

(Perhaps it had to due to her encounter on the mountain, with the memory of the cold feeling and the creature with red eyes that seemed much more familiar after having that strange dream the other night. Perhaps it was the knowledge that she wasn’t safe.

That there really were monsters that prowled around in the dark, looking for humans to devour.)

But thankfully her search for Tanjiro didn’t last too long. She heard a noise up ahead, and slowly moved towards it, doing her best to block out the pain in her arm. Nezuko felt an immense amount of relief when she recognized the back of her brother’s haori.

“Tanjiro, what did you find?” Nezuko walked up to him, and noticed how still he had become. He didn’t even make any noises to show that he had heard her, standing in place with the basket on its side as though he had allowed it to slide off his shoulders. In fact, now that she was close enough, she could see that he was trembling and was making some sort of low noise. The scarf covering his mouth was slowly becoming wet, to the point that drool was starting to leak through and drip from his chin onto the ground.

But it was the intense look in his trembling pupils as he stared at something on the ground ahead that made her realize that he was one wrong move away from snapping back into the feral demon on the mountain.

Nezuko followed his gaze and felt cold fear wash over her.

There were dead bodies littered on the forest floor. They appeared to be young men, covered in blood with wounds that looked as though some sort of wild animal had attacked them, had been eating them.

It was then that she realized that something was still eating one of the humans with its back turned to her and her brother.

Nezuko gasped and backed into her still entranced brother, stepping on a fallen branch and causing a SNAP sound to echo in the silence.

The feeding creature stopped eating and whipped its head around, eyes widening at the sight of the two.

It looked like a normal man at first, with a narrow head and short black hair styled into a bit of a widow’s peak. It was wearing a tattered bamboo-colored yukata with a striped pattern and small dots with a pair of wooden sandals. But in the faint light, Nezuko could see that its skin had a sickly grayish-white pallor and large eyes with slitted pinprick orange pupils that glowed. It also had pointy ears and three large X scars on its face, two on his cheeks and one his forehead, giving it more of a resemblance to a goblin.

And even with all of that, Nezuko could sense the same sickly presence that had nearly overwhelmed her when being attacked by Tanjiro without even touching it.

This wasn’t a human.

It was a demon

“Hey, this is my territory! Get lost!” the demon barked, standing and wiping its mouth of the human’s blood. It didn’t do anything about the blood staining its yukata, letting it drip down its front and sleeves. But then it squinted, eyeing Nezuko up and down. “Wait, you’re a human? Why do you smell like a demon?” The orange gaze lingered on Tanjiro before returning to the girl. “You both do actually. Weird.”

What should I do?! Is he going to attack me? Should I fight back? What if he’s just confused? I don’t know what to-

Nezuko was launched backwards and pushed against a tree, cold and sticky hands grabbing her arms. The demon leaned its face close to hers and gave her a hungry smile. “It’s been a few months since I got to eat a young girl. You’re a rarity around these parts, you know?” Its gaze trailed down her body until it rested on her injured arm, grabbing it so her sleeves fell and revealed her bloody wound. The demon licked its lips with a long slender tongue, a crazed look in its eyes. “This is a real treat for me, you know? You beauties are the real delicacies I CRAVE for.”

He leaned in, his tongue inches from her arm-

“GET OFF OF ME!”

Nezuko grabbed the hunting knife from her haori and slashed at the demon, causing it to cry out and fling itself several feet away from her. The girl dropped to her knees and held the knife out toward the creature as it shook its head and removed its hand from the slash wound on its neck.

“A knife? Really? You think that’s going to work against me?” The demon grinned sharply at her, and wiped the blood off of his neck, revealing how the cut had disappeared and all that remained of it was some dripping red. “See? All healed up. Not a scratch left on me.”

Nezuko barely had time to process that before it was in front of her again, this time holding her down by her throat with one hand while the other grabbed her knife hand and pinned it to the ground. The creature leered over her and got so close to her face that she could clearly see its small orange pupils up close and smell the blood from the corpses on his breath. She tried to struggle, but just like before with Tanjiro, the demon was too fast and strong, easily keeping her down despite one of her hands being free. She could only claw at the pale arm ineffectively and squirm, trapped.

“This is going to be so much fun!” the demon cackled. “I’m going to snap your neck, and feast on your intestines! Oh lucky me!”

His hand tightened around her neck and Nezuko screamed.

“TANJIRO!”

Just eat and you’ll feel better.

The humans were dead, and the other demon seemed to be done with them. The aroma they were giving off was making Tanjiro’s stomach growled and twisted painfully as he stared at them. The cloth around his mouth was becoming uncomfortably wet from his drool and panting, but he couldn’t stop.

He was starving; he hadn’t eaten anything in days because nothing seemed appetizing anymore. He was offered food before by someone (What was her name? He couldn’t remember) but turned it away because it didn’t smell right anymore. But not eating made it harder to stay focused on what was going on around him and made him tired. It didn’t help that the hunger pains only grew with each passing day, making him crave something that he couldn’t have.

(He couldn’t remember why he couldn’t eat what he wanted. It was bad for some reason, despite knowing it would make him feel better. He promised himself that he wouldn’t. But why?

He just…couldn’t remember.)

But now? The humans right in front of him were the first thing he smelled in ages that made him RAVENOUS. On scent alone, he knew that they would be the first actual delicious meal he’d have since…well, it didn’t matter. The blood and flesh were pulling him forward, closer until he was standing over a body.

Just eat and you’ll feel better.

He wanted to listen to that voice, but something was holding him back.

Something that was telling him NOT to even though everything in his body wanted to.

This was bad. But would anyone really notice?

What was he even doing here?

He was…following a scent before the bodies distracted him.

It was important, but…why was he doing it?

He was leading…He was doing it for…

Just eat and you’ll-

“TANJIRO!”

He stiffened.

And Tanjiro remembered.

NEZUKO!

“Quit your whining and hold-HOLY SHIT!”

The demon was ripped off of Nezuko and lifted into the air. She gasped and watched in absolute shock as Tanjiro held the demon above his head with inhuman strength, a look of pure fury burning in her brother’s slitted red eyes. Tanjiro gave a strangled roar and threw the screeching demon into a nearby tree. There was a loud crack as its back hit the wood, and the creature fell into a crumpled pile at the bottom.

There was a moment of silence as Nezuko gaped at her brother before slowly turning her head to stare at the body of their attacker.

Was that its back?! Did Tanjiro just kill that guy?!

She got her answer when the body twitched and something sounding like a bone cracking and resetting echoed, causing the demon to sputter and whip its head up to look at the siblings. Nezuko barely had time to process that when Tanjiro gave off a threatening growl growing in volume and marched toward the fallen body, still breathing heavily and drooling.

“What the hell?! You’re actually a demon?! What are you doing with a human?” The demon’s eyes kept flickering between the two humans with a mix of rage and confusion. “Were you just saving her to eat later? Well, you shouldn’t hold off on meals like her, you know! I-Hey, what are you-wait wait wait hold on!”

Tanjiro ignored the demon’s pleas and grabbed it by the front of his yukata, once again lifting it but only enough so its feet were off the ground. He shoved the body against the tree and leaned in very close to growl in its face.

“Okay I get the message she’s yours!” The demon cried out in a panic, cowering as Tanjiro’s pinkish-red gaze bored into its orange one. The grip on the yukata tightened and the demon yelped, raising its hands in surrender. “I-I’m sorry, okay? I’ll leave you guys alone. Just let me go, okay?”

Tanjiro didn’t respond or make any indication that he heard the demon. He kept glaring at it while pushing its body more and more against the bark to the point that the wood was starting to moan from the pressure. The demon made pained noises and struggled helplessly against the newer demon’s strength.

“Hey girl! Help me out here!” The demon turned its gaze to Nezuko, the fear in its eyes becoming more and more apparent as the tree it was up against began creaking louder, beginning to sound dangerously close to uprooting and tipping over. “Call off your demon! I-I’ll leave you guys alone, I swear! Just get him to stop!”

Nezuko didn’t respond, only able to stare at the scene before her. She watched in growing fear as Tanjiro seemed very close to pushing over a tree just to intimidate the demon (or maybe worse). Everything in her was telling her to get Tanjiro to let the demon go, but…she remembered the dead bodies nearby. Could she really let it go? What if it tried to kill again?

But what if it was like Tanjiro?

What if it needs help?

Maybe…Maybe we can give it a-

“AH, SCREW BOTH OF YOU!”

Tanjiro cried out and was flung back, landing in a patch of bushes.

“Tanjiro!” Nezuko stood up and was about to run over to him when she heard an ominous noise coming from the demon. She turned and saw it on all fours, head bowed and shaking.

“Screw you both,” it hissed. “Screw you both. I guess we’re doing this the hard way. One way or another, that human girl is MINE!”

The demon gave a loud screech and suddenly it began to grow in size, similar to how Tanjiro did on the mountain. Except it wasn’t just getting bigger; its whole body was shifting. Its finger became longer and more bony, with nails that resembled sharp talons. The muscles on its back spasmed, forming two large lumps that quickly burst through the fabric of the yukata and unfurled into leathery, bat-like wings. And when it finally looked back up at Nezuko, its head had become even more narrow with larger, fully orange eyes and a pointed beak.

Nezuko nearly dropped the knife as she stared back at the bird-like bat monstrosity before her. She forced herself to grip the wooden handle tightly with both hands while subconsciously backing up until her back hit the tree she had been pinned against before.

“That’s better,” the demon growled in a more nasally voice, smiling and displaying sharp teeth within its new mouth. It stood back up, now a full foot taller and ready to pounce. “Now, where were we?”

Do something!

The demon screeched and launched itself at Nezuko.

She couldn’t move, paralyzed into a frozen stance.

She didn’t know what to do.

Do something Nezuko! Or you’re going to die!

DO SOMETHING!

She screamed and blindly slashed the knife at the creature. But she didn’t hit anything, as a blur of red and green rammed into it and took it to the ground in a flash.

“Seriously? Again with you?!” The demon yelled. It was flat on its back with Tanjiro holding it down by its new wings, the look of rage still remaining on his face. “Fuck you! Just die!”

The demon slashed Tanjiro across his face, forcing the red-head to grunt and recoil, clutching at the long gashes. The moment of hesitation gave the demon the opportunity to push him off and rise back up, landing a punch to the chest. Tanjiro howled and attempted to throw a blind punch of his own, but the demon easily evaded and zipped around its opponent, using one of its large wings to backhand him from behind. 

Tanjiro was sent flying into another tree but somehow managed to stay on his feet when he landed, severally unbalanced and with blood dripping in diagonal streaks across his face. The winged-demon wasted no time zooming in front of Tanjiro and grabbing him by his white robe and throwing him with a burst of strength. Tanjiro gave another shriek of pain and flew through the air, disappearing into the darkness of the forest. The pale demon made a squawking sound and used its wings to erupt into the air and followed.

And Nezuko…

Nezuko just stood there. Like an idiot.

Do something do something do something do something DO SOMETHING-

Nezuko gave chase after them.

She ran and ran and ran, ignoring the pains and plants and darkness sounding her and followed the two demons and the vague sounds of their fighting.

Come on, come on! You have to help Tanjiro! Don’t leave everything to him like before! Be useful!

She finally reached a slight clearing and slid to a halt just in front of them.

Nezuko watched in horror as the demon kept repeating the same moves it had been using earlier, either throwing Tanjiro or slapping him with its wings, and sending her brother crashing into nearby trees or the ground with enough force to make each impact leave a loud THUMP each time he was hit. The speed of the creature didn’t slow and the attacks only got more brutal with claw slashes being integrated into the assault, leaving Tanjiro to be thrown and beaten mercilessly, unable to do anything but be tossed around like a leaf caught in a turbulent stream.

DO SOMETHING! DO SOMETHING!

“Stop it! Stop it please!”

Nezuko yelled. Her plea was ignored as the demon strook her brother once more, sending him into a collapsed pile on the ground. His robe and haori were stained with blood and cut up with claw marks. There were bruises peppering his skin and leaves and dirt tangled in his hair. The slashes across his face covered his eyes and what was left of his tattered scarf still clinging to the lower half of his face with dried blood the color of rust.

“Finally!” The demon laughed, licking the blood off of its talons and fully unfurling its large gray wings in victory. “I thought you were never going to go down. Guess you haven't eaten any humans yet. Too bad too bad, since demons get strength from eating, you know. Oh well, not my problem anymore.”

The winged-demon brandished its sharp talons and loomed over Tanjiro. It raised one arm and grinned wickedly and-

DO SOMETHING RIGHT NOW!

Nezuko finally moved and took a note from Tanjiro.

“NOOOOOOOOOO!”

Nezuko charged the demon and tackled it away from her brother.

And failed to see that just beyond the clearing was a cliff that they proceeded to fall off the edge of.

Chapter Text

Wakuraba was NOT having a good day.

Well, okay, that was kind of a lie. The day was okay , it just felt terrible. It was probably due to the fact that he spent nearly two weeks stalking a group of travelers who were apparently coming back from some temple (he didn’t know why; they might have said the reason, but he honestly didn’t care). He wanted to wait until they got closer to a village to eat them and whatever humans resided there (after all, the more the merrier right?), but one of them was being paranoid and kept suspecting that something was following them and that they should go a different route.

The others didn’t really listen to the human, but at that point Wakuraba was bored and starving and thought it would be HILARIOUS to see the look on their faces when they realized they were being followed.

So Wakuraba showed himself. And killed them. And ate them.

So honestly, even if they weren’t a village, they were better than nothing, right?

And then those damn kids showed up!

Strike him down for being overconfident and ignoring the whiff of demon that was coming off of them, but for god’s sake one of them was a girl! A human girl! And a pretty one too! He hadn’t had one of those in who knows how long and she was so overcome with fear that she was practically asking to be eaten at that point! He didn’t pay too much attention to the boy because he was just kind of standing there, and figured he would just eat that other kid later.

So even though she tried to fight back a little, he grabbed the girl.

And just as he had been about to spill her insides, he was thrown into a tree!

Wakuraba had felt his spine snap in two and when he regenerated himself, realized that the weird vibes he was getting from the two of them were because the boy was actually a demon. What demon dragged a human around with them? Was she a snack for later? Bait to lure other humans to eat? It made zero sense!

But he didn’t have time to dwell on that because that boy-that demon -shoved him against a tree with way more strength than the kid should have had and was basically threatening to topple the forest on top of Wakuraba to lay off the human girl. A part of him knew that there was no way a demon that hadn’t eaten any humans yet could actually kill him. It was just some annoying competition.

And yet, for some reason, staring into the demon’s weird pink-red eyes, some sort of primal fear from within was chilling him to the bone, the visible anger on the younger’s face growing with every second. They were familiar and terrifying all at the same time, and something in Wakuraba was trying to remember something that he felt needed to lay forgotten.

Those eyes…why am I thinking of HIS eyes?

And he didn’t want to think about that so he threw the kid off.

And because the demon and the girl were choosing to be difficult, Wakuraba activated his blood demon art and transformed.

After beating some sense into the creepy rage-driven demon, Wakuraba realized that his opponent wasn’t really that difficult to deal with. After all, the demon kid was only still functioning due to adrenaline and wild anger running through his body. Without any human flesh in his system, the demon kid would run out of energy and either shut down or use the demonic rage in him to drive his body to get another meal. But since it was clear that the demon had been pushing himself for a while since his initial transformation, there was no way he would have the energy to keep moving to hunt or attack until he had rested.

So yeah, Wakuraba tossed the demon kid around for a while until he looked ready to pass out. And once he couldn’t push himself off the ground anymore, Wakuraba was ready to put the annoyingly protective demon out of his misery.

And guess what?

The damn girl pushed him off a cliff!

Wakuraba was just about ready to scream at the sky because god dammit he was sick and tired of these kids throwing him and tackling him and launching him off the side of hundred meter drops! A part of him really wanted to just wrestle the girl off and let her fall to death so he could just go back, kill the demon kid, and then find the girl’s body and finish his meal in peace. But he was petty, and petty people (er, demons) did what they wanted, especially when they were hungry.

So, being the petty demon he was, Wakuraba wanted to kill the girl himself. So he kept a tight grip on her, spread his wings, and flew away high above the forest before they hit the rocky pit below the edge.

New plan; he would fly the girl somewhere secluded and kill her there. No distractions, no fear of sunlight, no worries about possessive raging demons kicking his ass over a human girl.

There was just one little flaw in his plan.

“AAAAAHH!”

The girl. Wouldn’t. Stop. Screaming.

“AAAAAHH!”

The whole. Fucking. Time.

“AAAAAHH!”

“WOULD YOU SHUT UP?!” Wakuraba eventually snapped at her after five minutes of her high-pitched voice ringing over the roaring of the winds blowing against them. “Be quiet! I can’t hear myself think over your stupid voice! So shut up and be quiet!”

For good measure, he shook the girl from where he was holding her under her arms, eliciting an even louder scream from her as she uselessly kicked her dangling legs. She did lower her voice to a quieter whimpering, though, and since humans tended to make noises constantly whenever they were afraid, Wakuraba took that as good enough for now.

“Finally,” Wakuraba grumbled. He bent his head down so he could stare at her upside down face of slightly more muted terror and gave her a sour look. “You’re annoying, you know that? I mean, I get it, I’m going to kill you and all that, but you’re just dragging this whole thing out at this point. I CAN drop you and let you die from the fall, but you're special, and I don’t want to just let you go. I want to savor the kill, you know?”

The girl’s wide eyes stared back at him with a slightly glassy shine as though she were going to start crying any minute (ugh, he hoped she wouldn’t; crying was even MORE annoying). Her pink gaze flickered below and she gasped, her legs kicking out again (in what he assumed was fear or…surprise?) before jerking her head back up and staring past his head as though nothing had happened.

Wait, that was weird.

“Hey, what was that about?” Wakuraba squinted at her and was about to look down-

“Th-The drop!” The girl cried, gaining his attention again because oh god no was she about to - “I-I don’t want to die! Don’t let me go! Someone help me! Waaah!”

The girl started screaming and crying again, this time kicking her legs more and throwing her head around and flapping her arms as much as she could with them in his grip. It threw him a little off balance, causing him to squawk and flap his wings quickly to reorient himself. He growled and tightened his grip.

Great, now she was being squirmy.

And LOUDER. SO. MUCH. LOUDER.

“STOP IT STOP IT! I GET IT, YOU DON’T WANT TO DIE!” Wakuraba tried shaking the girl again, but that only increased her wailing to the point that his ears felt like they were bleeding. “Is it too much to ask for silence? Why is it that you’re the only person I’ve ever tried to eat that’s made this much noise?”

He was answered with more wailing.

Maybe I should have just stuck with the travelers. At least they weren’t throwing a fit about dying anymore.

He was REALLY starting to have second thoughts about trying to eat the pink human.

He was about to say something else to quiet her, but she opened one of her eyes a little and glanced at the ground below her again. And that just pissed him off more. Because he was talking to her!

“What are you even looking at?” Wakuraba craned his head down more and looked at the sea of dark trees for whatever was more interesting than him. He couldn’t see anything, but just as he was about to make another comment toward her and probably her attention span, there was a blur of something in the tiny openings between the trees that was…following them?

But we’re moving at a high speed in the air. What the heck is running so fast to match my flying?

He squinted, slowing down his gliding a bit so he could see better and lowering them closer to the treetops. He could have sworn he saw a flash of red rapidly approaching them from below. It was kind of familiar honestly.

Too familiar…

Wait a minute…

There’s no way.

Wakuraba didn’t get a chance to think of another possibility.

Because whatever had chased them chose that moment to take advantage of his slowing speed and sight descent to launch itself upward with incredible agility and strength that for a moment Wakuraba thought he was witnessing a living fireball explode from the trees.

There was no time to move or fly away. The girl yelled something and he watched as whatever shot up reached toward him with claws and red hair and what sounded like a roar and crazy red eyes that were kind of pink and-

Oh.

Oh.

Oh no.

“YOU’VE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!”

That was all Wakuraba had time to say before the demon kid pounced on him and took the three of them crashing into the trees below them.

Yep. Wakuraba was NOT having a good day.

Nezuko didn’t know what to expect when she saw glimpses of her brother keeping up with her and the flying demon, but it certainly wasn’t for him to pounce on her captor like a wild cat lunging at its prey.

And yet, for the umpfteenth time since he had turned into a demon, Tanjiro surprised her with a new skill that both blew her mind and raised her concerns for him.

(But honestly, with the current situation they were both facing, Nezuko tried not to dwell on the latter.)

Especially since now, thanks to Tanjiro, the two of them and the winged demon were free-falling into the trees.

Nezuko barely had time to process that when she felt a familiar set of arms clad in a checkered haori rip her from the demon’s grasp and press her against a familiar body. She couldn’t see but felt cold wind ripping through her short hair and haori violently, the feeling intensifying when she felt her body roll so she was on top of whoever was holding her.

The feeling abruptly ended when they crashed through the trees, ripping through leaves and branches until they landed on ground with a thud and rolled to an eventual stop. Nezuko groaned, having a slight sense of deja vu to a few days ago as she laid there, attempting to control her breathing and slow her erratic heartbeat.

Is this what my life is going to be like now? Nezuko wondered to herself, slightly dazed and trying to breath through the soreness of her body that was now making an appearance. She braced herself and carefully sat up, only to suddenly feel lightheaded and the contents of her stomach shift causing her to turn away and vomit onto the grass.

I really hope this is the last life or death situation for a while. I don’t know how many more of these I can take.

When she was done coughing up bile, Nezuko wiped her mouth with her sleeve and lifted her head, finding herself all alone. She glanced around, noticing that she landed in a different area of the forest. In fact, as she stared at the trees surrounding her, she found them to be less ominous and foreboding in the dark than the ones that she encountered earlier.

Nezuko carefully pushed herself to her feet, but immediately felt the world spin and shift beneath her feet again. She forced herself to take a few shaky steps forward before collapsing against the nearest tree, taking a breath to recover her balance and not throw up again. But Nezuko frowned when she felt the texture of the bark, it being much smoother with only a few slight ridges compared to the more rugged texture of the tree she had slept against earlier. Looking at it closer, even in the dark she could see the coloring was also different, appearing to have more of a soft gray tint to the wood.

And now that she was paying closer attention to her surroundings, Nezuko noticed that there was a slight aroma in the area. She sniffed the air, and didn’t need Tanjiro’s nose to pick up on the sweet yet grassy fragrance lingering around her.

There’s no way…

Nezuko peered up into the leafy branches above her, seeing slender dark green leaves filtering moonlight onto the soft grassy ground (which was also different from the crowded forest floor from before). Scattered throughout them were what looked like small bright pink flowers just beginning to bloom. And yet, some of the blossoms were fuller, more mature with big beautiful petals almost glowing an ethereal pink hue in the night. And amongst the branches, barely visible unless you looked really closely were-

“Peaches,” Nezuko breathed. She nearly cried and slid to the ground at the realization at what she was seeing and where she was.

Peaches…I found peach trees.

We made it to the peach orchard!

We found them!

It was hard to believe that they had been so close. And even without much guidance, Nezuko and Tanjiro had found their destination.

It had to be a miracle!

Nezuko instinctively looked to her side to share with her brother the good news of their discovery, but found the space empty. She looked around, and realized that she was all alone.

Tanjiro was missing.

She knew at least that he had been with her when she landed. She knew it was him that caught and cushioned her fall. But the moments between her crashing to the ground and vomiting from the vertigo were a blur. During that time, Tanjiro had disappeared and there was nothing to suggest where he might have gone.

It was then that another, more horrifying thought entered Nezuko’s mind, making her gasp out loud and grip the tree she was still leaning against tighter.

What happened to the winged demon?!

She got her answer when a screech rang out, and said demon appeared from the shadows before her and quite literally flung itself in front of her.

Nezuko yelped and the demon looked up, its glowing now pupiless orange gaze looking more deranged than it did earlier. Its appearance was also more chaotic, with more tears and blood covering its yukata with leaves and dirt all over. Both wings on its back were bent in odd angles, one twisted so it was stuck pointing upward while the other hung limp on the ground. The creature was shaking, an unhinged snarl visibly displayed on its ugly beaked face.

“Damn girl…This is your fault,” the demon garbled, coughing up blood and dragging itself toward Nezuko, wings beating uselessly and creating a crackly sound as though the thin bones were grinding against each other. It stretched a talon toward her, making her shrink away from the bloody creature. It hissed, “You, You and your…stupid demon. What’s wrong with him? Why..Why is he so-ACK NO NO NO NO NOOOOOO!”

The demon didn’t finish its sentence as a large shadow loomed over it and suddenly dragged it away from the girl, the demon screeching and clawing at the grass in vain. Whatever was pulling the demon swung its body with a dangerous amount of force and flung the winged creature behind into a tree, creating a thunderous crack and for said tree to rain leaves and flower petals.

The shadowy figure stood there, panting and tense in a half-crouch, waiting for the demon to come back. But they must have heard or sensed Nezuko from behind, causing them to turn to face her with a threatening growl. A slight wind blew by, causing the branches above to part and allowed for more light to shift onto the figure.

Nezuko felt her blood freeze at the sight before her. “T-Tanjiro?”

For a moment, her mind had returned her to the mountain.

There was dried blood all over her brother, highlighting the feral look in his slitted glowing eyes. His torn, dirty clothes revealed fading bruises and wounds that looked almost completely healed. His hair had become a wild mess of leaves and mud, casting dark shadows on his face that made him look more like a wild animal ready to snap at whatever got in its way.

It seemed in that instant, there were no longer any traces of his humanity left.

Tanjiro truly looked like the deadly demon he had been turned into weeks ago.

The two of them were locked into a staring match, Tanjiro’s heavy breathing being the only sound Nezuko could hear in the orchard. She felt herself unintentionally tensing her body to run away in case her brother lunged at her. But considering how he was able to keep up with the winged demon, something in Nezuko told her that no matter how much faster she used to be than Tanjiro in the past, she couldn’t outrun him when he was like this.

If he decided to move, there was no escaping his attack.

Don’t think that way! Nezuko shook her head and scolded herself. He’s still your big brother. He isn’t like that other demon.

But everything about his appearance seemed to contradict that.

Do I really want to take that chance now?

Tanjiro made another low noise, his clawed hands twitching before snapping into tight fists. As though being careful, he slowly relaxed his trembling posture and closed his eyes. He breathed deeply once, twice, and a third time before opening them again, pupils still slitted but not as much as before.

Nezuko felt herself loosening her own rigid posture as well. A small hope filled her chest as she watched her brother’s attempt to control himself. She reached out a tentative hand toward him.

“Brother, it’s okay. I’m right here.”

Tanjiro stared at the outstretched hand. His eyes softened ever so slightly, and took a small step towards her. One shaky fist opened and a slightly bloody hand was raised. He likewise reached for her’s and-

“JUST DIE ALREADY!”

The wing demon erupted from the darkness and lunged at Tanjiro.

Tanjiro’s eyes snapped back into their fully demonic form and thin black veins spiderwebbed.

What happened next only took a matter of seconds.

Tanjiro twisted out of the way with such blinding speed that Nezuko thought for a brief moment he had disappeared and materialized behind the creature. She got a glimpse of the look of surprise on the winged demon’s face before the front of its yukata was grabbed and yanked violently back. The demon’s body was whipped in front of Tanjiro and it made a squeak of terror at whatever expression was on her brother’s face.

“WAIT!” The demon cried. “I-”

Tanjiro roared. The bloody and tattered scarf ripped.

And he headbutted the demon. 

Something was thrown at Nezuko and she instinctively caught it as the impact against her stomach sent her skidding into the tree behind her. Nezuko blinked and looked up, finally able to see the look of rage once again present on Tanjiro’s face staring back at her over the empty neck of the demon.

Wait, empty neck?

The demon was missing its head.

A fountain of blood sputtered from the neck stump before the body crumpled into a heap on the soft grass. Nezuko stared blankly at the scene before slowly peering down at the object that was in her hands.

A pair of wide orange eyes gawked at her, a beaked-jaw hanging open in disbelief. The expression morphed into one of anger. "MY HEAD! THAT STUPID DEMON TOOK OFF MY HEAD! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU TWO?!”

Nezuko blinked.

It was the demon’s head.

Oh…I’m...holding the demon’s head…

…

…

…

WAIT!

I’M HOLDING THE DEMON’S HEAD!

So Nezuko did what any sane person in her position would do.

She shrieked, dropped the head like it was on fire, and kicked it as hard as she could.

The head screamed too as it sailed through the air right over Tanjiro and its decapitated body, breaking through the treeline. Its screams echoed into the night until it disappeared from view and all but faded to quiet.

Nezuko took a few panicked breaths and clamped her hands over her mouth when she felt her nausea from earlier returning with a hard vengeance, only to remember what she had just been holding and ripping them away with a harsh gag.

Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it. DO NOT THINK ABOUT IT NEZUKO...

Thankfully she was granted a distraction in the form of a loud roar from her brother. She looked up.

The demon’s body was still moving.

And currently wrestling with Tanjiro.

The headless body (despite its badly twisted wings) had pinned the younger demon to the ground as Tanjiro had done to it twice already, but it was apparent how much it was struggling to keep him down. Tanjiro thrashed against its grasp, snapping at the body with his newly freed mouth until he managed to reach up and bite one of the exposed shoulders. The body spasmed violently and flinched, allowing Tanjiro to push his weight against it and roll them on the ground until he was on top. He ripped a piece of flesh off the shoulder and spat it to the side, leering down at the body and roaring right where its head would have been at a volume Nezuko had never heard her brother yell at before.

Nezuko could only watch from a distance as Tanjiro started wailing down on the body with punches and slashes and headbutts and whatever else he could do to the demon’s body as it pitifully struggled. All the while the young demon kept roaring and snapping at it in a deranged manner, even biting at whatever limbs tried to block his attacks, not caring if he was tearing off fabric or flesh. Eventually the body stopped fighting back after a bone-cracking punch dug itself into the center of its chest, jerking and going limp.

But Tanjiro didn’t stop.

He kept going, continuing to pound down on the limp form in mindless beatings as though he couldn’t tell that his headless opponent had finally stopped fighting back. It got to the point that blood was splattering every time his fist met flesh with sickening splats and wet crunches.

“Tanjiro, stop it!” Nezuko finally mustered up the courage to yell out. She staggered over and grabbed his shoulder. "It’s dead! Y-You don’t have to keep-”

The demon whipped his head around and glared at Nezuko, blood staining his clothes and splattered all over his face as he bared his sharp teeth at her. Nezuko snatched her hand back as though electrocuted at the sight of the blood and veins on his face and took a few steps back. Tanjiro snarled, and Nezuko was hit with the image of a hungry wolf being interrupted in the middle of feeding.

He’s still your brother…He’s still your brother…He’s still your-

The decapitated body gave a violent spasm and threw Tanjiro off. He cried out in pain and his body was tossed into another tree with a loud thud before collapsing. The half-alive body twitched a few more times on the ground before staggering to its feet. The broken wings flapped pitifully and its limbs moved in jerking motions toward where Tanjiro had landed.

Do something…Do something…

Nezuko tried to move to stop it from hurting her brother anymore, but it was as though a switch had been flipped and all of the energy had been sucked out of her body. She felt her knees give out and all of the pains and injuries she suffered from the past week rear their ugly heads in a way that left her paralyzed on the ground and unable to move. Whatever adrenaline had been coursing through her veins during this awful night had chosen the wrong moment to fade, leaving Nezuko helpless and barely able to catch her breath. All she could do was watch as the half-dead demon dragged its battered body to where Tanjiro laid unmoving.

DO SOMETHING! ANYTHING! JUST MOVE!

But it never reached Tanjiro.

Because before Nezuko could try and force herself to just move, there was a sound so soft she barely missed it when the body passed between two trees.

It was the sound of a thin wire snapping, followed by a click. 

And then a large rock was flung at the body.

The tree on the right side of the demon had a rock swung on a rope, careening into the body and smashing it into the left tree with a sickening crunch. It crumpled to the ground and was yanked back into the air as ropes almost seemingly materialized around the body’s limbs. The body crashed once more into the still swinging rock before being pulled into the leaf limbs of the overhanging limbs and knocked around roughly, showering the ground in leaves and petals. Eventually the ropes stopped throwing the body around, leaving it dangling and loosely swinging above the ground and held by its now bloody wrists and ankles like a broken puppet.

Wait…is it over?

Nezuko stared at the hanging body, blinking several times to make sure she wasn’t mistaken about what she just saw.

Because…what had she just witnessed?

Traps? There were traps around here the whole time? Nezuko looked around, but couldn’t see anything that would indicate that there was anything nearby to suggest ropes or rocks were hidden. They were so well-hidden, how did we miss them?

But that meant something else too.

Who set them?

She didn’t get a chance to ponder the question when she heard ominous growling off to the side.

Tanjiro!

Nezuko turned and saw how similarly to the headless body, her brother slowly forced himself to stand despite how badly wounded he was. He swayed on his feet as though dizzy, his arms hanging limp at his sides. His hair had fallen over his face, concealing one eye and leaving his left exposed, the sickly-colored pupil wildly darting around until it locked onto the hanging corpse above. Blood and drool stained his teeth and lips as another threatening sound escaped his mouth, and he began stumbling toward his clearly defeated opponent.

“Wait! Tanjiro, don’t move! It’s okay!” Nezuko called out. She kept looking around, desperately trying to find anything that looked out of place in the moonlight. It was the exact moment that Tanjiro took another staggering step forward that her eye finally caught the faintest bit of light being reflected off a nearly invisible wire right by his ankle. “Stop Stop wait-!”

SNAP

“TANJIRO LOOK OUT!”

A rock just like the one from before swung out from one of the trees Tanjiro was passing. Tanjiro’s eye snapped over to it just as Nezuko shouted her warning, diving out of the way with a sudden burst of speed that didn’t seem possible with the current state his body was in. However, the moment he tried to get up, the telltale sound of ropes tightening hissed and Tanjiro was yanked into the trees like with the first trap.

Tanjiro screeched as he was thrown around recklessly into the branches, knocking more leaves and flowers from the limbs. But just as quickly as the first trap had started and ended, the tossing around stopped, leaving Tanjiro more tangled and tied up in the ropes than the other demon and still very much conscious and unhappy.

“Hold on!” Nezuko finally found a bit of strength left inside of her to push herself to her feet and lean against a nearby tree that hadn’t yet been assaulted by a demon. “I’ll get you down!”

Tanjiro continued to growl and screech in his bindings, still lost in whatever rage frenzy had taken over his mind since the fight had started. He tried wretching his arms free and twisting his body to get any part of him loose, but based on the way his cries started sounding pained and his movements became more restricted with each attempt, the ropes were tightening and wouldn’t let up unless someone cut him loose. It didn’t help that unlike the other demon which had been tied by its wrists and legs, Tanjiro’s ropes were more tangled and criss-crossed over his entire body.

Still, none of that seemed to register with Tanjiro in the way he continued to struggle and even snap at the ropes despite them being out of his range.

“What should I do?” Nezuko whispered under her breath, watching as her brother helplessly dangled above her. 

Think Nezuko. You have to help him. 

Think of something!

Be useful this time!

“Give him a minute.”

…Wait what?

Nezuko looked out the corner of her eye and yelped when she finally noticed the short elderly man that had somehow materialized right by her side. He had white hair that puffed out slightly at the sides with a large, bushy mustache and eyebrows. There was a large six pronged scar on his right cheek that curled underneath one of his dark pinprick eyes. He was wearing a traditional jinbei kimono, and there was enough moonlight for Nezuko to make out its yellowish-brown coloring and the pale triangle patterns decorating it.

When did he get here? Nezuko thought, still reeling from the shock and praying that all of the stress wasn’t going to make her pass out (again). I didn’t even hear him.

Tanjiro screeched again and Nezuko was snapped out of her thoughts. That time he sounded more wounded, and some of the ropes were starting to pull blood from where they were rubbing against his exposed skin (most worrisome being the rope that was digging into his neck).

Nezuko’s heart couldn’t take the suffering her brother was in anymore. She tried to move closer to help him, but nearly tripped and lost her balance when something knocked against her knees. She glanced down and saw that the elderly man was holding out a wooden cane that she initially hadn’t noticed, preventing her from walking forward.

“I said to give him a minute,” the old man said gruffly. “He’ll tire himself out.”

Nezuko glanced at her screeching and writhing brother then back at the man. “B-But he-”

“Give. Him. A minute.” He said more sternly. He kept his gaze forward, a sharp look in his eyes that looked vaguely familiar as though critically analyzing the demon in front of him. “You don’t want him doing something either of you will regret later. So wait.”

Nezuko opened her mouth to argue with him further, but as she stared at the elderly man next to her, she suddenly remembered Kaigaku’s words.

“There’s a peach orchard where an old man named Jigoro Kuwajima lives…He may consider teaching you something.”

“Wait, you’re…you’re Jigoro Kuwajima,” Nezuko gasped, “aren’t you?”

The man grunted and lowered his cane. “And you’re the girl Kaigaku ran into, unless I have you mixed up with another crazy young lady who’s harboring a demon that she’s claiming won’t be a threat.”

Nezuko nodded, but realized the man-Kuwajima-still wasn’t looking at her and kept observing the way Tanjiro continued thrashing against his bindings. She gazed back at her brother, realizing what he was trying to insinuate with his words.

“I guess we’re not good at first impressions, are we?” Nezuko mumbled to herself. She found herself rubbing her neck, making her realize that the cloth around it had loosened, leaving the fading handprints exposed.

The man laughed suddenly, a loud sound that resounded within the orchard like a boom of thunder, causing Nezuko to jump in surprise at the sudden sound and at how he had somehow heard her speak so quietly.

“Well, at least you’re honest, I’ll give you that.” Mr. Kuwajima rumbled. “No, you two are nowhere near ready to earn my trust yet, but I guess we’ll see, huh?” 

They didn’t have to wait long.

Even though it felt like an eternity for her, Nezuko was pretty sure the two of them stood watching Tanjiro struggle for only about thirty minutes. It was odd for her to be so impatient, but seeing her brother flail in bindings that were clearly causing him discomfort after fighting another demon made her anxiety go through the roofs in a way that was on the verge of shattering all of her composure.

She hated being forced to stand several feet away from her brother and watch him pull and fight his restraints like a trapped animal. She just wanted to help him, especially since the entire night, she had been nothing but a helpless victim against the demon. Tanjiro had done all of the fighting, and when he needed her, Nezuko couldn’t do anything.

Nezuko’s fists clenched tightly at that thought.

She hated being so useless.

“There we go.”

Nezuko looked toward Mr. Kuwajima. The old man jutted his chin toward the rope trap, the cautious look on his face relaxing just a bit. She followed his gaze and saw what he was referring to.

Slowly, Tanjiro’s cries had softened to light growls and whining, his expression becoming more lax and his eyes closing in concentration. Though still twitching and shifting uncomfortably somewhat, he had eventually stopped fighting against his binds and let himself go limp.

“He should be alright now.” Mr. Kuwajima ambled toward the tree on the left side of the young demon, disappearing behind it and out of sight. Nezuko took a few hesitant steps toward Tanjiro, but stopped when she heard the distinct sound of rope being cut followed by a sharp SNAP.

Tanjiro’s ropes immediately went loose and he dropped to the ground with a yelp and a hard THUMP.

“Tanjiro!” Nezuko ran the rest of the way over and knelt down to quickly remove the ropes around him. “Are you okay? Wait no that’s a stupid question. You were attacked and thrown around.”

The demon groaned, finally sitting up and shook his head. He finally blinked open his eyes and Nezuko felt a sigh of relief when she saw that they were back to normal despite still being slightly pink-tinted. Even the weird black veins that had sprouted before were no longer on his face. He made a few rasping sounds and frowned when he noticed that his mouth was uncovered and his scarf now lay in a tattered heap around his neck.

“It’s okay, we can fix that,” Nezuko said as she undid the cloth around her neck with a smile. She wrapped it around the lower half of her brother’s face and with quick work, his mouth was covered. “See? Good as new.”

Tanjiro hummed and felt the cloth with tentative pats as though having something on his face was foreign to him (despite having worn the scarf as a muzzle for the past week). His eyes also peered down to try and see the new covering, but instead they locked onto the dried blood splatters all over his arms and torso. Panic lit his gaze and he began whining and grunting in a way that reminded Nezuko of how he acted after choking Nezuko and seeing the way his body had changed.

“Don’t worry, you didn’t hurt anyone.” Nezuko gently grabbed his arms and tugged them toward her to prevent him from moving or running away. “It was from that demon. It was trying to eat me! You went all crazy trying to protect me, a-and you won! You saved me.”

Though it was hard to say if those last two statements were true. After all, the fighting only stopped after both demons had been caught in the rope traps and were incapacitated. And the only times the other demon got the upper hand was whenever Nezuko tried to defend herself or intervene.

Honestly, I really was useless during the entire fight.

“I’m sorry, big brother,” Nezuko whispered, lowering her head in guilt. “I got in the way, and I couldn’t do anything right. When you needed me most, I froze and let that demon hurt you. I wish I could have protected you better.”

How am I going to become a demon slayer if I can’t even stand up for my own brother when he needs help? How can I protect him?

Can I protect him?

“Hmph!”

Nezuko felt her brother’s forehead lightly tap hers (though there was still a small spark of pain from the gesture), prompting her to look at him. He gave her a resolute stare and nodded, taking her hands and squeezing them as well. Nezuko blinked and laughed at the gesture.

Even now, when he’s had it worse than me, he knows how to make me feel better.

“Thanks, brother.” Nezuko rested her head against his shoulder and sighed. “I am glad you’re okay. You need to be more careful, though. I don’t want to lose my big brother.”

Tanjiro hummed in response and patted the back of her head.

Nezuko chuckled and for the first time in a week, felt like she could breathe without a terrible weight on her shoulders. Even if it was for a moment, it felt nice to breathe freely again.

“Ahem.”

Nezuko squeaked. Oh. I forgot about Mr. Kuwajima.

She and Tanjiro turned toward the sound to where the old man had been watching their whole exchange. Nothing about his current expression or posture gave any indication that he was pleased or upset about what had just happened, just…interested. He hummed, the fingers on the hand gripping his cane tapping against the handle in fast, irregular beats. He eventually shook his head and sighed.

“I don’t mean to interrupt you two,” Mr. Kuwajima said as he walked toward the Kamados and stopped just in front of them, “but there’s a few things we need to address before the sun comes up.” 

Nezuko opened her mouth to respond, but was met with a knock on her head from the wooden cane.

“Ow, that hurt.” She rubbed her head with a wince and heard Tanjiro growl next to her. But the old man was already walking away. “Wait, where are you going? We just came that way.” 

“I know,” Mr. Kuwajima called. “But there are matters to attend to. If you want me to even consider teaching you how to fight, then you’ll follow me.”

Nezuko stayed where she was and glanced at Tanjiro. The demon looked wary, but shrugged and nodded toward where Kuwajima was going.

Afterall, they had reached their destination. Now it was a matter of trusting a strange old man with their next move.

It’s not like we have many options about where to go now anyways.

“Oi, you two knuckleheads coming or what?! We don’t have all night!”

“Oh, sorry! Coming!” Nezuko quickly stood up and (after taking a moment to breathe through the slight pain and reorient herself), took Tanjiro’s hand, pulling the demon after her.

At that point, only one thing was going through her head.

I really hope we made the right choice trusting this man. Please don’t let this be a mistake.

Chapter Text

A few years ago, when Tanjiro and Nezuko were coming up the mountain after selling charcoal on their own, they had come across blood.

Tanjiro had stopped walking, grabbing her arm and sniffing the air when he had detected the scent of fresh blood. The older boy had then taken off the basket and told Nezuko to stay put, running off the path with the family hatchet in hand.

Nezuko had waited a few minutes, but when her brother hadn’t returned and there were no cries of a wild animal or yelling from his part, she decided to follow her brother.

It turned out, he hadn’t run far. She found him kneeling in the snow, lightly petting something on the ground.

When Tanjiro sensed her presence and glanced back at her, his face was one of sadness. He moved to show her what was looking at.

Nezuko had gasped when she saw the small bloody rabbit. There were bleeding gashes all over its body, but the worst of it came from its mangled back legs and slashed throat.

And yet despite its injuries, it was still alive.

Nezuko shuffled closer and knelt next to her brother, shocked to see the shallow yet rapid rising and falling of the creature’s chest. Its eyes were half-closed, and it kept releasing a small keening sound that reminded her a lot of the sound her younger siblings would make when they were little and were in pain.

“It must have tried to escape a predator,” Nezuko whispered, looking up briefly to see the trail of red snow leading to the animal. Tanjiro made a sound of agreement, but didn’t move to do anything else.

Nezuko didn’t even need to glance at Tanjiro to know why her kind-hearted brother hadn’t tried to help the rabbit despite its obvious pain.

The rabbit was dying and unless someone killed it humanely, the suffering would only be prolonged until it eventually bled to death.

“I can do it.”

Tanjiro’s hands froze and he directed his gaze toward her. “Are you sure?”

Nezuko nodded, reaching a hand out to pet the slightly coarse fur of the small animal. “Yeah. Dad showed me how to…how to snap the neck without hurting it. I can do it.”

Tanjiro looked unsure, but shuffled to the side to give her more room. “Okay, let me know if I can help.”

Nezuko assured him that she was fine, and moved into the proper position, gripping the rabbit’s hind legs as carefully as possible to prevent aggravating the injury further, and the neck.

She took a deep breath, focusing on her father’s voice and remembering the lesson he gave her. She just had to snap the neck and it would be done. A painless death to end this poor animal’s suffering after being viciously attacked.

She could do this…

She could do this…

She-

The rabbit made another heartbreaking sound, and one hazy brown eye drifted until it met her gaze. For one fleeting moment, she could feel the terror and pain and fear in its gaze without her special sense.

Nezuko’s hands shook and her heart stuttered, making her chest hurt.

“Nezuko?”

She couldn’t do it.

“I-I’m sorry, I…I can’t…I…” Nezuko brought her hands back to herself as she fumbled over her words. She glanced at her brother, and felt worse when she saw the sympathy and understanding in his dark red eyes.

“It’s okay, I know it’s hard to do.” Tanjiro said, placing a hand on Nezuko’s shoulder. “Why don’t you go wait a little up ahead with the basket. I’ll catch up to you.”

Nezuko glanced at the rabbit, then at Tanjiro. The guilt began to claw at her chest knowing her brother was going to have to do something she thought was too terrible for HER to follow through with. “Are you sure? I mean, I can stay, or…No, no I’ll need to do this eventually, I need to-”

“You don’t need to do this right now.” Tanjiro helped his sister up and gripped her other shoulder. “I know what you’re thinking right now, and you’re wrong. I know it may seem like it’s not a big deal, but ending a life can be a lot on a person, both physically and mentally. Please don’t be too hard on yourself.”

Nezuko wanted to argue that it was just an animal, but every scenario she could think of involved her having to go back and end the small animal’s life, and she just…she just couldn’t.

So she listened to her brother and went back to where they had gone off the path. The wait wasn’t too long, and soon enough Tanjiro returned, a nod and sorrowful look being all she was given to let her know that everything had been taken care of.

They continued on their way, made it home, and never spoke a word about the rabbit, not even to their parents. In a way, it had become their own little secret.

But the incident always remained at the back of Nezuko’s mind.

Because Nezuko knew she would have to learn to take life humanely one day.

But not that day. She would, someday.

And that’s what she kept telling herself as the days and weeks and years went by.

But perhaps, it was because there was one idea that Nezuko found herself adapting to her personality since that day.

And that was that Nezuko Kamado was not a killer.

Nezuko, Tanjiro, and Mr. Kuwajima ended up walking in silence for the most part. And it only made Nezuko feel more anxious about where they were going. Because she wasn’t used to silence.

But for some reason, she found herself nervous to talk in front of Mr. Kuwajima. He didn’t seem like someone that was going to hurt them (well, other than him hitting her with the cane but there didn’t seem to be any malicious intent behind it), and he did let Tanjiro down when the demon had become calm enough.

But then there was the tone he used when addressing Nezuko about helping her (or at least considering helping her). It was guarded, with a note of warning to it that was on edge when addressing her and Tanjiro. It made her wonder how much of the fight between her brother and the other demon the man ended up seeing, or if he only came at the very end when he heard Tanjiro get captured in the rope trap.

Then there was his aura. Like Kaigaku, Nezuko didn’t even need to be touching the older man to sense his spirit. There was nothing too overwhelming about it, but there was a feeling of apprehension and thrumming energy coming off of him, as though waiting to open up and release something much more powerful.

It reminded her of the beginning of a thunderstorm, when storm clouds were closing in and the electricity could be felt in the air.

It was as though Mr. Kuwajima knew how to keep his aura hidden.

I’ve never known anyone be able to do that before. Nezuko thought as she stared at the old man walking ahead of her with a frown. He must really be aware of the presence he gives off.

Or maybe he’s just doing this because he really doesn’t trust me or Tanjiro.

Given what he saw, he has no reason to even give us a chance. And yet, he is.

Why?

Eventually, Nezuko couldn’t take the quiet anymore and blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“The trees are blooming.”

Mr. Kuwajima hummed and kept walking. “They are.”

Nezuko waited for the man to say more, but when it was clear that he wasn’t going to add or elaborate to his statement, she found herself doing so to hers.

“I uh, i-it’s not like I haven’t seen flowers or trees blossom before,” Nezuko clarified. “I just…it’s winter, so wouldn’t the trees be bare during this season?”

Because now that the threat of the demon had all but dissipated and she could finally take a moment to look at her surroundings, she found them walking through a small canopy of flowering trees decorated with different shades of pinks and reds and whites. The leaves were a healthy green, and a few times Nezuko could have sworn she saw actual peaches just beginning to grow through the branches. It was a truly peaceful environment to live in, and helped to somewhat soothe a bit of the nervous energy that had been coursing through her veins.

But as she said, left with her own thoughts about the situation and surroundings more, this was clearly a forest she could only dream of finding in the late spring or summer. Everything about the orchard was out of season.

The old man chuckled at her question. “True, glad that didn’t just go over your head like it might have for others. To tell you the truth, when I inherited this place, I was told that someone very important was buried here. I don’t know all the details, but apparently she planted this whole orchard herself and when her remains were brought here, it was as though the trees started to constantly flower and bear fruit even in the coldest winters.”

“Really?” Nezuko’s eyes roamed around the greenery and blossoms with a whole new perspective. “That’s amazing. But, it just seems so impossible.”

Mr. Kuwajima laughed louder that time. “It does, doesn't it? But be honest, in a world where demons exist, is it that far a stretch to say that spirits and their influences can still roam the mortal plane?”

“I guess not,” Nezuko whispered. It wasn’t uncommon to believe in spirits or the supernatural, but for them to have such an influence was a bit of a stretch to believe. And yet, there was living proof of the impossible in the pastel flowers growing overhead and holding the cold hand of her older brother after defeating a monster with inhuman strength.

Everyday it seemed like Nezuko was learning something new that was changing her entire outlook on life, and it was hard not letting that overwhelm her.

A slight tug against Nezuko’s grip on Tanjiro’s arm pulled her from her thoughts. She looked back and saw that her brother was starting to walk at a slower pace. His head was drooping down a bit while his body and expression looked more tired than he had been when they started walking. The vacant look in his eyes had returned as well, similar to how he had been for the past week.

“Hey, how much farther are we going anyways?” Nezuko asked, a little worried that Tanjiro was about one second away from nodding off in the middle of the orchard. If that happened…well, Nezuko wasn’t too confident that, with her taxed strength and lack of adrenaline, she and an old man half her size would be able to carry a demon around themselves without trouble.

“Oh we’re here.”

“Huh?” Nezuko faced forward again and had to stop herself from toppling over the shorter man. She nearly did when Tanjiro’s semi-sleepwalking form bumped her, electing a yelp from her and a grunt from her brother. She gave his mildly disgruntled expression a look of apology. “Sorry, Tanjiro.”

Tanjiro hummed and shook his head, blinking lethargically before his eyes drifted out of focus and stared off into space as though nothing had happened.

Should I be worried? Nezuko couldn’t help but think to herself. He’s been doing this a lot. Maybe it’s a demon thing.

“Are you ready?” Mr. Kuwajima’s voice cut in.

Nezuko turned back to the old man and looked around, taking in where she had been taken to only to find…more trees?

There was nothing quite different about the area she and Tanjiro had been guided to. In fact, everything about the location looked nearly identical to where Mr. Kuwajima had first found them. Light green grass, large leaves overhead, and the faint sweet aroma in the air were all present. Even the flowers above them looked the same, light pinks that glowed in the moonlight, swaying slightly in the breezes that would pass here and there.

“Why are we here?” Nezuko asked when she couldn’t decipher the answer to that question on her own.

Mr. Kuwajima didn’t say anything; he simply gestured for her to come forward. She tried to ignore the small bubble of anxiety that was starting to rise from her gut and let go of her brother’s hand, slowly walking up to the man so she was beside him.

“A little word of adivce,” the old man finally said. “When facing a demon, make sure you remember where the head is.”

Nezuko blinked in confusion and tried to follow where the old man was looking ahead.

There was a slightly smaller tree in front of them with low-hanging branches. In between two branches, right where they extended from the trunk, was something round and the size of a melon lodged into the small space.

Nezuko squinted and took a hesitant step closer to it. That was all she needed to realize what it was and to let out a scream of fright.

It was the crazy demon’s head.

“What’s that doing here?!” Nezuko cried and backed up.

“That’s what I’d like to know,” Mr. Kuwajima grumbled. He looked out of the corner of his eye at the girl. “I heard your brother attacking it and then something sent it flying. Was it him too?”

Nezuko quickly glanced back toward Tanjiro and saw that he still had the same empty expression, staring at nothing. He didn’t even seem to care or notice that the head of the demon he had just been fighting tooth and nail was right in front of them.

“N-No, actually that was me,” Nezuko answered. The old man made a noise of surprise and whipped his head toward her. Nezuko fidgeted and found herself avoiding his gaze. “I uh, I caught the head after Tanjiro headbutted the demon, and when I realized what it was, I…kicked it.”

“You drop-kicked that demon’s head more than fifty meters?”

Nezuko nodded hesitantly. Mr. Kuwajima continued to stare at her a little longer before returning his gaze to the decapitated head and rubbing his chin thoughtfully, murmuring, “Huh, maybe there is something I can work with then.”

Maybe that’s not what we should be focusing on right now.

Thankfully, Nezuko didn’t have to say anything more as Mr. Kuwajima continued speaking. “Well, regardless of how the head got here, it’s here. And we have to deal with it before it does any more harm.”

“Then what about the body?” Nezuko asked, pointing back to the way they had come and where they had left the headless body hanging. “Shouldn’t we have taken care of that first?”

The old man waved off her concern.  “The ropes holding that thing up have special threads woven into them made of a steel designed to harm demons. Normal weapons and metals can’t do much against demon flesh, so you need to use steel that can absorb sunlight. Trust me, I designed these traps so no mid-level demon could escape them before they burned up.”

“Right…yeah.” Nezuko shook her head and tried to ignore how calm the old man was about the concerning (yet somewhat ridiculous) situation. “So then, what do we do?”

“What do you think you should do?”

Nezuko blinked. “Huh?”

Mr. Kuwajima pointed with his cane at the head. “It’s obvious that demon has killed before tonight. If you let it go freely, it will continue to take lives and grow stronger. That cannot be allowed to happen. So it must be dealt with now.”

The older man lowered his cane and directed his pinprick at Nezuko. He asked her again, “So what do you think you should do?”

Nezuko’s gaze jumped between the man and the head, and despite feeling sick at the very thought of it, knew what needed to be done.

“I have to kill it.”

He nodded. “Then take care of it.”

Nezuko gulped and reached a shaky hand for the knife tucked into her haori before remembering that she had lost during the fight with the winged demon. She panicked briefly before the old man’s words came back to her, reminding her that normal steel wouldn’t work for some reason.

So, since she didn't have any metal that could absorb sunlight (whatever that meant), she had to improvise.

Nezuko scanned her surroundings, taking in the lush grass and sturdy trees around her. After a bit she found what she was looking for and hobbled toward one of the trees close by. The girl knelt and parted the grass to reveal a stone about the size of her head.

If I can’t stab the demon, then smashing it seems like the next best thing.

She picked up the rock and stood, nearly going down again when her arm and leg muscles screamed in protest. She did her best to ignore the pain and forced herself to take slow steps back to the tree, praying the feeling that her kneecaps were on the verge of shattering was just in her head.

Focus, Nezuko. It’s just a little pain. It’ll go away eventually.

It’s not important right now.

Focus.

Nezuko stopped in front of what remained of the trapped demon. She glanced at Mr. Kuwajima, and when he gave no indication that he was for or against what she was going to do, Nezuko faced the unconscious head right before her.

Just be quick. Just smash it a few times and that should do the trick.

Nezuko took a deep breath and gripped the stone hard enough that the bones in her fingers joined the raging inferno inside her body. Her heart started beating faster, causing her entire body to tremble and the stone to feel much heavier than it probably was.

Just do it. Please just do it.

She tried to control her breathing, to take deep breaths, but everything in her body started to go haywire. Her chest was hurting and her arms became stiff, unable to move or even let go of the rock.

The feeling…It felt very much like her sudden panic in the woods earlier. Fear was taking over her body and she couldn’t stop it.

What’s happening to me?

Why am I so afraid?

No, she didn’t need to ask that.

She knew the answer.

I’ve never killed anything before.

No, no I can’t do this…

This was a bad idea. What was I thinking?

Isn’t there any other way to kill it so it doesn’t feel pain? Or with just one blow?

This feels wrong…I don’t want to take another life.

Not like this!

Even if it devoured people, this…this isn’t right!

I can’t do this!

But she could still sense Mr. Kuwajima’s and Tanjiro’s presence behind her, waiting for her to finish what she started.

No, she couldn’t back down.

There was no excuse for letting the demon live.

She HAD to do something.

She HAD to be useful this time.

Do something…

Do something…

Be useful…

She HAD to do it.

For herself.

For her family.

For Tanjiro

Just be quick. Just be quick and kill it.

Kill it.

Kill it.

KILL IT.

Nezuko squeezed her eyes shut and lifted the rock above her head.

And with a mighty yell, Nezuko brought the rock down.

This girl isn’t going to cut it.

That was what was going through Jigoro’s head as he watched the child’s hands before him shake despite the stone not appearing to weigh that much. He could hear her heart beating frantically, as though there was a tiny bird trapped within her chest and the way her harsh breathing rattled her lungs.

And yet beneath all of the terror and jumbled thoughts racing through her head, a soft melody lingered within her that the old man hadn’t heard in a long time.

The sound of kindness.

Even though this girl knew that she had to kill the monster in front of her before it hurt another human, there was a part of her that felt sympathy and still recognized the demon’s fragment of humanity.

This girl truly was a child with a pure heart. One that had clearly never taken any sort of life before.

And now he was asking her to commit what she must have thought was the greatest sin in her life.

If this were any other situation, Jigoro would have stepped in and comforted the girl and made sure she never got to see any more of this awful world again.

But he couldn’t afford that, not with what was at stake for the girl and her brother.

Especially for Jigoro and Kaigaku.

But then something in the girl changed, and the fluttering sounds of fear dimmed as her mind chanted for her to do what she was instructed to. The beginnings of a resolve solidified in her, and the rock was lifted above her head.

Jigoro leaned forward.

The demon brother near him didn’t move.

All was silent save for the girl’s frantic breathing.

A beat passed, and the girl cried out and brought the rock down.

….And then the resolve broke.

The rock hovered inches above the demon’s head, shaking along with the girl. Jigoro couldn’t see her face, but he did hear her shaky whisper.

“I’m sorry…I can’t do it.”

Jigoro frowned.

That was definitely a warning sign.

And he knew that meant two things:

One, that no matter how much training this girl received, she was never going to change.

And two, her choices would lead to either her own demise or someone else’s.

The last time he ignored these realizations, it had been with Kaigaku. And even if he didn’t have all of the details about what had happened that day , a part of the old man knew his former apprentice had involved himself in something unforgivable.

Truly, terribly unforgivable.

And this girl, despite being the complete opposite of Kaigaku in nearly every shape and form, could very well fall down a similar path.

No, this young girl was far too indecisive and empathetic, even wanting to show the creature that just tried to kill her kindness.

Kaigaku, I don’t know what the hell you were thinking, but this is not proving to me that you’ve changed at all.

This girl is not going to make it.

Not by a long shot.

Jigoro probably would have shared his thoughts with the girl right there and then, but he realized that would have to wait.

The sun was rising.

I can’t do this…

Nezuko lowered the rock away from the head. Even staring at it now-still looking threatening despite missing the beak and other bird/bat-like features from its earlier transformation-Nezuko couldn’t kill the demon.

She knew it had to die.

She didn’t have a problem attacking the demon before when it was gloating about eating her. This was just her smashing its remains before it could do anything else again.

So why was this situation different?

Why couldn’t she just do it ?

Nezuko didn’t get a chance to ruminate over her inability to smash the object of focus when said head groaned and started to wake up.

“Ugh, wha…Did I black out?” The head grumbled. Its eyes flew, now back to their pinprick orange from before, and zeroed in on Nezuko. “Hey! Hey! What did you do with my body? You and your weird demon did this to me, I remember! You got some nerve! Get over here so I can rip you to shreds!”

The demon continued yelling profanities and shaking its head as much as it could wedged between the two branches. Nezuko only took a hesitant step back and tried to block out the screeching, suddenly noticing how her surroundings were beginning to become more visible. She looked up and saw the growing pink and orange sunrise peeking through the darkness.

I took too long. The sun’s already up.

“Hey! What are you looking at?! Pay attention to me for once!” The demon followed Nezuko’s gaze and let out a mix between a gasp and a scream when he saw the rising sun and light crawling toward them through the trees. “Wait no no no! Not the sun! Not the sun! Fuck! Fuck! NOOOOO!”

The demon wailed as the light finally spread across its face and all at once, the head ignited into flames. It only burned for a few seconds, and then the fire went out, leaving ash that easily blew away in the wind.

And just like that, any trace that the demon had been in the tree had burned away.

Nezuko dropped the rock as she gaped at where the head had just been moments ago.

It just…burned away? That quickly?

That was horrible!

Is that why Mr. Kaigaku told me to keep Tanjiro away from sunlight?

And to think that the man almost left without telling her that .

It definitely explained why Tanjiro did everything he could to hide from the sun. She could barely imagine what would have happened if she didn’t listen to her brother and just left outside during the day.

…

…

…Wait.

WAIT!

WHERE WAS TANJIRO!?

Nezuko whipped around and saw that her demon brother wasn’t where he was standing moments again.

Oh my gosh I left Tanjiro in the sun!

I killed my brother!

Did the wind blow away his ashes?!

Why didn’t I listen to that man?!

“Oh quit your existential crisis. He’s right over there.”

Nezuko snapped her neck toward Mr. Kuwajima so fast she thought she heard a loud crack and followed the finger pointing to a lump hidden beneath her brother’s haori. The checkered fabric shifted, revealing a very small and tired Tanjiro huddled into the shadow of one of the trees.

Nezuko ran over to him and ripped off her own haori. She wrapped it around her brother’s smaller body so only his eyes were visible, earning her a hum of appreciation before he leaned against her and rested.

“You’re alright, thank goodness,” she sighed and patted his head. The urge to just follow Tanjiro’s lead and take a nap after the night’s events became very tempting at the moment. She probably would have too if not for her sensing Mr. Kuwajima’s presence and noticing that he was now standing right in front of them.

And even without using her senses, Nezuko could feel the disapproval radiating off of the man.

We’re really not leaving a good impression on him.

“What is your name, young lady?”

Nezuko stared at the old man, confused by the question until she realized that she had yet to actually introduce herself.

“I-I’m Nezuko Kamado. Oh, and this is my older brother, Tanjiro.” She set the bundle swaddling the demon next to her, fixing herself into a proper kneeling position despite wincing at the movement.

“Nezuko,” the old man rumbled, drumming his pointer finger against his cane, “what do you intend to do if your brother eats a human?”

Nezuko felt her eyes widen at the question, then looked to the side at where her brother laid. She stared at him for a moment, then patted where Tanjiro’s head was covered again, and mustered as much confidence as she could when she faced the old man.

“He won’t do that.”

Whack!

“Ow!” Nezuko cried out. Her hands flew to where the cane had bonked her on the head and rubbed at the tender area. “Why did you do that?”

“Because you shouldn’t make promises you know you can’t keep,” The old man scolded her. The air around him was growing tense, a festering emotion he had kept suppressed making itself known as he addressed Nezuko. “It was foolish enough for you to put your honor and life on the line for a newly turned demon. I’m not going to waste my time teaching important skills to a child who still sympathizes with demons. You’re going to get yourself killed, and someone else too.”

“But I-” The cane was raised off the ground as a silent warning. Nezuko snapped her mouth shut and Mr. Kuwajima instead pointed the cane at her.

“You need to learn that just as much as your actions have consequences, your lack of action will be held to the same caliber. Failure to act will result in consequences as well. Look at what your hesitance has led to.”

Nezuko glanced back at the tree where the demon head had been minutes earlier, and felt a pang of guilt over not being able to give the demon a painless death. The lecture was beginning to feel a bit like when Kaigaku had told her off for pleading for Tanjiro’s life.

The man’s cane thumped the ground again and brought her attention back to him.

“You must learn to follow through, and to not let your sympathy cloud your judgment. In this profession, even the slightest bit of hesitance can be the difference between life and death. And not just for you; what if there had been a civilian here?”

The weight of Nezuko’s guilt became more heavy than before, nearly stealing her breath away.

He’s right. Someone could have gotten hurt, or worse.

I…I could have gotten someone killed.

And that was something Nezuko couldn’t live with.

Something flickered in Mr. Kuwajima’s eyes at Nezuko’s reaction, but didn’t comment. Instead, he sighed and shook his head. “Young lady, give me one good reason why I should even consider helping you.”

Nezuko…didn’t have an answer.

What reason could she give at this point?

This job that she wanted to do…there were real, devastating consequences for herself and others if she didn’t perform well enough.

She thought back to the bodies she and Tanjiro had found in the woods earlier, and how the demon had been eating them. The way it taunted Nezuko about killing her next and how if it weren’t for her brother, the demon would have gone through on its word.

Then there was the old man before her, with a pronged scar carved into his face and a missing right leg that she hadn’t even noticed until now. How after finishing his word with her and letting her take in what he said in silence, perhaps unintentionally allowed a fragment of a larger emotion to slip out.

Hatred.

But not for her.

For the demon.

For all demons.

The hatred felt so hot, a small piece of an all-consuming wildfire that was just barely being held back. Other than perhaps the man on the mountain, the girl had never felt such intense emotions before, let alone ones so negative.

This man knew what it meant to hate something unconditionally.

A voice whispered in the back of her head that if she wanted to survive, to truly do that job that she was fighting to prove her worth for, it meant learning to hate.

And it scared her.

Because she didn’t want that feeling to be a part of her.

She wouldn’t become that kind of person.

But if she wanted to fight demons, to protect her big brother like he had always done for their siblings…

She needed to try.

“I don’t have a good reason.”

Mr. Kuwajima grunted. “Really?”

“No, I don’t.” Nezuko did her best to sit up straighter, resting her hands on her lap and lowering her head in proper respect. “You’re right. I’m weak and care about others to a fault, but sometimes I can’t help it. A-And I know that’s no excuse, but...”

Nezuko took a deep breath, steeled herself with as much confidence as she could, and continued.

“I want to be strong enough to help people. But I can’t do that on my own. I want to learn, need to learn, and you’re the only person I know that can help me. Everything my brother and I have done up until now has proven that we shouldn’t be trusted or even given a second glance. I get that, but it won’t stop me from asking you, no matter how many times it takes!”

Nezuko reached into her kimono and pulled out the broken pendant, holding it out for the old man and ignoring what she thought might have been a gasp from him.

“Please sir! That man, Kaigaku Inadama, said that you might give me a chance. I know this isn’t much and that this is a long shot, but please! Give me one more chance, Mr. Kuwajima! Let me prove to you that I am worthy of being your student!”

Her words were met with silence. Tentatively, Nezuko peeked up at the old man and was surprised to see a look of complete shock at what was in her hand. He opened his mouth a few times, but no words left.

He then thrusted out his hand, and figuring he wanted the object that was taking his attention, Nezuko handed over the cracked pendant. She watched as Mr. Kuwajima ran his thumb over the imperfections, obviously lost in thought or within a memory.

“He really gave you this?” Mr. Kuwajima finally settled on, not even looking up at the girl.

Nezuko managed a soft “yes,” causing the man to sigh and to look up at the newly pink morning sky.

“That idiot really is trying,” he whispered. The old man chuckled gruffly and shook his head, pocketing the broken necklace. “Alright then.”

“You’ll do it? You’ll teach me?”

Whack!

“Ow! Stop doing that! It hurts!”

“Quiet and listen now.”

Nezuko groaned and rubbed her aching head. “Yes sir.”

“I’ll teach you on two conditions.” Mr. Kuwajima held up two fingers when he said this. “The first is something you need to understand. And it regards you and your brother.”

Nezuko lowered her hand and nodded. The stern tone the man had used before returned when he spoke again.

“You brother cannot be allowed to harm another human being. That must always be at the forefront of your mind, especially since he can no longer think logically or humanely. If he does eat a human, you must be willing not only to kill him, but to take your own life as well. It is the only way to maintain both of your and your family’s honor should he do the unthinkable.”

Nezuko felt her hand drift toward where her brother was bundled next to her, and nodded. A part of her wanted to defend Tanjiro, that he wouldn’t, but decided it was wiser to hold her tongue and let the man continue.

“This cannot be allowed to happen, no matter what. These consequences may seem grave and too high for someone so young, but that is what entails traveling with a demon. You must never forget this. Have I made myself perfectly clear?”

“Yes sir!”

Mr. Kuwajima nodded. “Good.” He began walking back the way they came, waving his hand in the direction. “Pick up your brother and follow me. I’m taking you to get some rest.”

“What?” Nezuko shakily got to her feet and leaned against the nearby tree. “W-Wait, what about the second condition?”

“I’ll give you a test to prove yourself to me tonight,” the old man said, still walking away. “But not right now. Tend to your injuries, eat something, get some rest. Now come on, you’ve clearly had a long day.”

Nezuko nearly fell back down at that.

Because that…was the biggest understatement of her life.

The walk back had felt longer than it had going the other way, but Nezuko figured it was probably due to her spending nearly all of her energy from the night’s events. It still took everything in her to not tell the old man (who was somehow walking ahead of her no matter how much she tried to keep up with him) to slow down for her.

She was just tired. Very tired.

But thankfully, they arrived at Mr. Kuwajima's small home before noon. It was located in the only area of the orchard that wasn’t filled with trees, leading her to conclude that the structure was located at the center of the land.

The old man led them inside and after getting her acquainted with the main room, showed Nezuko where she would be sleeping. It was small, with two futons and a desk in a corner, but to her, it was perfect. If anything, it was a bit more spacious than their own home on the mountain.

After thanking the old man profusely and being told that she would be woken up to eat, Nezuko untied her haori that she had fashioned into a sling to carry a still small Tanjiro on her back. He hardly stirred as she laid him on one of the futons and tucked him under the covers. There was only a slight furrow in his brow before he grew back to his normal size and shifted to his side, a hand reaching out.

Nezuko smiled, quickly tending to her own injuries (with some bandages left on the desk) before pulling her own futon closer to his and laying next to her brother. She barely had the thought to grab his hand tightly before all of the exhaustion finally caught up with her and she succumbed to sleep.

…

…

…

“Be careful, Nezuko.”

“I know, Big Brother!”

A slightly younger Nezuko stuck her tongue out and gripped the straps of her basket tightly as she attempted to walk down the path herself. The charcoal on her back was throwing off her balance, making the descent down the snowy path harder than she thought it was going to be.

Tanjiro was waiting for her just a little ahead, and someone else farther away (it was a man…but she couldn’t put her finger on who he was). She wanted to make the trip with them. She could do it! There was just so much snow and this was her first time going down with a basket all by herself.

But then she tripped and nearly face-planted, caught just in time by her big brother. He smiled and without another word, took the basket off of her and shrugged it over one shoulder.

“Don’t carry both of them!” Nezuko cried when she realized that her brother really was going to carry her basket and the one he was already wearing down the mountain. “Now it’s too heavy for you!”

Tanjiro shook his head and patted her head. “Don’t worry about it, Nezuko. I’m strong enough to carry our baskets. It’s not even that heavy.”

Nezuko whined, and tried not to let her tears gathering in her eyes fall. “B-But I wanted to come with you guys this time. I wanted to be helpful, and now you’re carrying more.”

The hand on her head slid down and gripped her hand tightly. Nezuko looked up to Tanjiro’s kind eyes and smile. “Someday you’ll be able to carry it, but for now, let me do it for you. I know you’ll be strong enough eventually, so don’t give up! Okay?”

The girl nodded, wiping her eyes with her free hand and smiling back. “Okay! I’ll be just like you, Tanjiro!”

“ No, don't...Please don’t...”

The boy laughed and still holding her hand, the two of them went the rest of the way down the mountain to join the man. Nezuko happily trotted after him and all of her worries from before vanished being with her brother.

But then she blinked and it was getting dark. She was on someone’s back. The other man was behind them, so it must have been Tanjiro carrying her. She didn’t know why, but she felt safer like this and wanted to sleep again.

This felt familiar. She wondered why.

“Are you okay, Tanjiro?” The man asked.

The boy looked behind and whispered a bit loudly. “Don’t worry, I’m not tired. I can keep carrying her!”

Nezuko closed her eyes and snuggled against her brother. “I’ll carry you someday, Big Brother,” she mumbled. “I promise, I’ll be just like you.”

“Please don’t...I’m sorry, Nezuko...”

She couldn’t open her eyes, but for some reason, she could smell ash and taste blood. Her body ached and tears were falling from her eyes despite not feeling sad anymore. She wanted to speak, but the words couldn’t escape her throat. The cold air shifted to unpleasant heat and smoke.

Tanjiro stopped walking and fell to his knees. Nezuko still couldn’t open her eyes.

Someone warm was now in front of them.

“ I’m sorry, Nezuko...Please, forgive me...

A hand touched her head and what felt like flames erupted around them.

Bells chimed behind them.

And that man, with the deep, familiar voice, embraced them.

“Remember.”

“Oi, wake up!”

Nezuko shrieked and sat up so fast black spots danced in her vision. She whipped her head around the unfamiliar room until she zeroed in on Mr. Kuwajima standing at the doorway. The events of last night came back to her, and she felt herself relax.

It was just another weird dream. Everything’s okay.

“There’s food ready, so come outside when you’re ready,” the old man said, not commenting on her reaction. His pinprick eyes did linger on her a second longer, as though trying to make sense of her reaction, but didn’t say anything more before leaving her be.

Nezuko got up to follow the man, but stopped when she felt Tanjiro’s hand still tightly gripping hers. She gently removed the appenedge and whispered, “I’ll be back,” before fully getting up and leaving to eat.

For the most part, the girl and older man sat in silence that bordered on being awkward and peaceful for the duration of the small breakfast/dinner of soup and fresh peaches. Nezuko did her best not to fidget too much despite Mr. Kuwajima not looking up at her once. She knew that her future would be determined by whatever “test” was going to take place in the next few hours, but a part of her was still anxious about leaving a good impression on him.

Nezuko did manage enough bravery to bring up that she and Tanjiro had run into several bodies when they had first encountered the demon. She wanted to know that they would be taken care of, and that there would be nothing to worry about regarding any of the traces of the demon being leftover.

Mr. Kuwajima had looked surprised when she brought up the bodies, but simply nodded and told her that he would pass along the information to people who would make sure the bodies were properly buried. Along with that was the reassurance that since the demon head had burned away, there would be no traces of it left.

Nezuko tried not to let her relief show too much, but it must have when she sighed and continued eating. The old man stared at her a little longer before asking, “You were that concerned about them, huh?”

“Of course,” Nezuko had easily replied, not looking back up. “They still matter, even if they have already died. It would be disrespectful to just ignore them if there was something that could still be done for them, right?”

Mr. Kuwajima didn’t respond, but a quick peek up allowed her to see the thoughtful expression on his face.

When their meal concluded, both got up and Mr. Kuwajima told her to meet him at the front door in a few minutes. Nezuko quickly returned to her room and grabbed her haori (figuring she may still need it).

She took one last look at Tanjiro before kneeling by his head and whispering in his ear, “I’ll be back. I promise, I won’t fail this time.”

With that, Nezuko left the room and followed the old man back into the peach orchard just as the roses and oranges in the sky began to fade and the sun dipped beneath the horizon. They walked until it had fully turned to night again, where they stopped in a random spot and the old man finally addressed the girl.

“You’ll start here,” Mr. Kuwajima said, thumping his cane against the ground several times. “This is where your test will begin.”

Nezuko glanced around, noting that the part of the orchard they were in honestly didn’t seem that much different than where they just were. The only differing feature about the area was that the blossoms overhead were white rather than pink.

“Listen carefully,” the old man explained, gesturing to the area canopied by blossoms behind him. “The flowers above mark a path through the orchard. As long as you stay underneath the trees growing them, and only them, you will be led in a perfect circle, ending right back at this spot.”

Nezuko nodded, earning a grunt of approval from him.

“I want you to run ten laps through the orchard,” the old man continued. “And I want them all done before morning.”

“That’s it?”

Mr. Kuwajima raised a bushy eyebrow. “What? Do you think you should be running more?”

“N-No!” Nezuko stood up straighter and shook her head in panic. “This is fine! Ten is fine!”

“That’s what I thought,” the old man rumbled. “Trust me, if you did anymore, I don’t think there’d be anything left for me to consider teaching.”

That doesn’t sound very comforting, Nezuko thought. They weren’t exactly the words of encouragement she was looking for, let alone from the man that may or may not become her teacher in the future.

“If you can run ten laps and then make it back to the house by sunrise, then you’ll have proved your worth to me and I’ll teach you. If the sun’s already up, then that’s it; no more chances. This is the one shot you got. Understand?”

Nezuko nodded. With that, Mr. Kuwajima gave the girl one last look before turning and ambling back the way they had come. He did stop after a few steps.

“I mean it, follow the path. No shortcuts. Because trust me,” he said as he turned his head a little and smirked at Nezuko in a way that reminded the girl very much of the swordsman from the mountain, “I’ll know if you’ve cheated or not.”

Okay…that really didn’t help her nerves.

But it wasn’t like she had a choice at this point.

“Alright then,” Nezuko said with as much confidence as she could muster. She looked around a little more before realizing she had one more question. “Wait, how will I remember that this is where I-?” Nezuko turned toward where the old man had been walking, but found herself all alone. She looked around, but there was no sign of him. “M-Mr. Kuwajima sir?”

For a man missing a leg and walking with a cane, he can really walk fast. How did he even disappear without me noticing?

Well, there was nothing she could do about it now.

Nezuko glanced around and noticed that one of the trees nearby had what looked like lines engraved into its bark. She walked a little closer and sure enough, she counted ten strikes in the wood.

Perfect.

So, after finding a small sharp stone on the ground and using it to carve her own tally mark into the tree to keep track of her laps (since that had been what she wanted to ask the old man before he disappeared on her), Nezuko began running under the white blossoms.

And for the most part, it wasn’t too bad. Sure her body was still aching and the muscles in her legs burned while she ran, but once Nezuko found a steady pace for herself, it was easier to block out the pain for the time being. The rest and food definitely helped, and the path was fairly straightforward. All she had to do was stay underneath the white flowers growing above her and try not to slow down too much.

And the best part was that this was familiar territory for her in terms of running. Not only had she gotten used to going down the mountain back at home as she got older, but sometimes she would run down all by herself to relay messages or get quick deliveries when her brother and father were busy. She had even been the one run to get the doctor when her mother, who had been pregnant with Rokuta at the time, had gone into early labor. Oftentimes, it was joked among the Kamados that while Tanjiro had inherited their mother’s strong forehead, Nezuko got their father’s strong legs.

To put it simply, this test was perfect for Nezuko.

This is going to be easier than I thought, Nezuko couldn't help but think to herself as she passed by trees and was lightly showered by the occasional flower petals. I wonder why Mr. Kuwajima made this seem so much mor dangerous?

Perhaps the test was supposed to be difficult because of how much running she had to do. Or maybe simply because it was in the dark and it would be easy to get lost if she wasn’t paying attention. Either way, this wasn’t going to be a problem for her.

She could totally do this!

That was until something snagged her foot and Nezuko was yanked into the air with a shriek.

What the heck!?

She flailed around a little bit until her foot managed to slip out of whatever had grabbed it and she crashed into the dirt path. Nezuko groaned and rolled onto her back, squinting above her and making out a rope loop hanging almost innocently above her. In fact, it looked suspiciously similar to the rope that had been used to trap her brother the night before.

Suddenly the test and the allusions to its difficulty made much more sense.

So I have to run and avoid traps. That…may be a little harder to deal with.

But it wasn’t impossible, and she really didn’t have time to think, so she got back up and kept running.

And yet she only managed another couple of steps before she broke another trip-cord, causing a large rock tied to another rope to swing in her direction. Nezuko barely managed to stumble out of the way before a large tree branch smacked her in the face. She cried out and took a few steps back which caused the ground to give out underneath her and sent her tumbling down into a pit.

At this rate, she would never be able finish all ten laps before sunrise, let alone one if she kept getting caught.

Nezuko groaned in frustration, but shook her head as she forced herself to carefully climb out of the hole. She couldn’t afford to think like that; not with what was at sake.

Remember why you’re doing this! You have to prove you’re ready for this!

For Tanjiro!

Nezuko pulled herself up back onto the ground, spitting out a bit of blood in the process and rubbing a bump at the back of her head. She looked ahead and nothing seemed out of the ordinary. To find any of the ropes or fake pits, she’d literally have to crawl around at a snail’s pace to feel for anything out of the ordinary. And again, she really didn’t have the time for that.

Think, Nezuko, She thought to herself, closing her eyes and taking a moment to breathe. What would logically be the easiest way to navigate through a dark path with traps?

And there was only one answer she could come up with; rely on her older brother’s sense of smell. Tanjior would have easily been able to figure out where the traps were hidden on scent alone. He would have even tracked them using Mr. Kuwajima’s scent that was probably lingering on them. But he wasn’t here right now, so it’s not like that would be of any help to her.

And yet…that did give her an idea.

If Tanjiro could find the traps by tracking their and Mr. Kuwajima’s scents, then she could do something similar by tracing the remnants of his aura. It was at least worth a shot.

Nezuko placed both of her hands flat on the ground and took a deep breath, doing her best to channel her senses to spread throughout the area. She tried to imagine herself reaching out and through the ground like tree roots extending out. She tried to feel for anything that came in contact with her searching, blocking out all other noises within the area and the pain in her body.

Focus…Focus…Focus…

There!

Just barely there, she could sense another pit, along with more rope traps and other smaller obstacles like rocks up ahead. It was still a little hard to pinpoint their exact locations, but they were there, and that was enough for her.

Nezuko shot forward and took a huge leap after several more steps, narrowly avoiding the aforementioned pit. She then quickly maneuvered over more of the ropes and even when she tripped one by accident, she quickly pressed her hand on a tree close by, sensing and dodging a hanging rock just in the nick of time.

Slowly she gained momentum in her movements and found herself falling into a pattern of stopping to sense for traps and finding ways to avoid them while keeping a steady pace. Her movements weren’t perfect and she still kept getting hit by rocks and tripping over pits, and all of this was only made harder by the fact that she wasn’t nearly as agile as she needed to be to navigate the environment.

And even when she finished her first lap through the orchard, thoroughly exhausted but knowing she had to keep going after marking another tally on the tree she was using, it seemed as though there were more traps and obstacles that were appearing that hadn’t been there before.

Trip-wires that got tangled around her ankles, tiny stones that would rain down from above, even larger pits that would collapse at the slightest pressure at their edges. They just kept coming and slowing her down as it became harder to sense the traps and ignore how run-down her body had become.

But she wasn’t giving up.

It didn’t matter that by the third lap the hanging rocks had gotten larger and more frequent. Or that by lap five she had a net thrown on her and tumbled off the path, leading her to spend much of her precious time having to untangle herself and find her way back. Or even the eighth lap involving a huge tree nearly collapsing on her (and honestly, she didn’t even think that was an actual trap).

Nezuko kept going.

Because she had to do this herself, to prove herself to Mr. Kuwajima and Mr. Kaigaku and Tanjiro and herself.

I can do this!

I can do this!

I can do this!

The thought kept chanting in her head as she reached lap ten, and for the first time in a very long while, she felt hopeful about finally accomplishing this task.

“I CAN DO THIS!” Nezuko bellowed out as loudly as she could, uncaring of how it burned her throat and made her lungs cringe. “I CAN DO THIS!”

She took a triumphant step forward.

Heard a rope snap.

And look up just in time to watch as the largest rock she had seen during the entire test come smashing into her.

Jigoro pulled a blanket over Tanjiro’s sleeping form. The demon hummed and turned onto his side, snuggling into the covers as though he were a child. It almost made Jigoro want to chuckle and coddle the boy a bit. But the cloth tied around the boy’s mouth and the claws peeking out reminded him that now was not the time to be sentimental.

This was still a demon whose life was up in the air.

The old man sighed, glancing at the door and continued waiting for the girl, Nezuko, to come back. Originally, he had been waiting alone, but the girl’s brother had stumbled into the room and nearly scared the shit out of Jigoro. He nearly reached for his sword that he had started keeping near him again, but all the demon did was walk to the center of the room and curl up on the floor, immediately falling asleep.

It had left Jigoro stunned and a little mind-boggled about the nature of this demon. In the end, he figured by the time the sun would be up, a decision would be made about the siblings. So there really was no harm in dragging a spare futon out for the demon to sleep on, or cleaning up some of the dried blood caked on the brother.

So the two of them waited for Nezuko to come back (or, well, Jigoro did while her brother slept). He was used to late-nights, so even in his old age, Jigoro had no trouble staying awake. The night progressed on, and soon it was less than an hour before the sun was up.

He was honestly a bit unsure about whether or not the girl would pass the test. He knew that she did have the advantage of being fast and had a bit of abnormal leg strength, but unless she figured out how to navigate the traps on low stamina, then it wouldn’t matter how much he trained her.

And yet, there was still a part of him that was just a bit hopeful that she would make it before the sun came up. There was that bit of potential that he REALLY wanted to take advantage of, and it was very clear the girl had her heart in the right place no matter how naive her actions may be.

Besides, if Kaigaku of all people deemed her acceptable of learning their breathing style, then there must have been something about her that stuck out to him.

Kaigaku…

Jigoro glanced at the small wooden box he had brought back with him while retrieving the futon for the demon boy. He picked it up and undid the latch, revealing the many letters that he had received and kept over the years. They were from a mix of colleagues from during and after his retirement, his mentor before she passed away, and the occasional ones from civilians he saved that wanted to express their gratitude. But he plucked the most recent one he had received from the top of the neat pile.

The first letter he had received from that idiot in over four years.

Jigoro unfolded the letter, and, despite knowing its contents by heart at this point, reread what his former student had written.

No matter how many times he looked at the letter, he didn’t know how to feel. On one hand, Jigoro wanted to say that his former student had nearly lost his mind and was throwing his life away despite promising he was going to try to live better from now on. That Kaigaku was totally disregarding the sacrifice that had been made toward, or was simply trying to antagonize Jigoro.

But on the other hand…this could be the beginning of a new change.

Jigoro DESPERATELY wanted to believe that Kaigaku was trying to use this second chance to stop thinking only of himself. That maybe, him potentially risking his status in the Corps was the beginning of helping those weaker than him. It didn’t make sense, especially with the case he was involving himself in, but maybe, just maybe…

Maybe things would work out.

BOOM

Jigoro's head snapped up at the front door having been slammed open.

And low and behold, the girl was back just a few minutes before the sun was set to rise.

She was panting, her haori shredded and covered in dirt, and her kimono in just as bad shape. Her hair was sticking up in different directions and covered in soil, leaves and flower petals. There were even more scrapes and bruises all over her body than when he had initially found her, the most notable being a large black and blue mark in the middle of her forehead.

She looked terrible, which meant she actually ran the ten laps.

“I…I did it,” she panted, her body slowly listing to the side until she hit the doorframe and slid to the ground. “I made, made it back. I…did…it…”

The girl slumped over and passed out, not even bothering to change her position or move closer into the house.

Jigoro set the letter down and took in the girl before him, covered in dirt, bruises, and blood. He took in her shredded and nearly ruined kimono, and her choppy short hair that had become tangled and cut at an uneven length. He stared at the still fading purple bruises curling around her throat, and thought about how she endured this hellish test just to prove that she and her brother were worthy of a chance in this cruel world.

Her determination would definitely carry her forward if she learned to use it right and to address her shortcomings.

If Jigoro managed to hone that energy in a foul-mouthed former-streetrat and an overly emotional orphan, then surely he could do the same for this kind yet stubborn sister.

Maybe…this time, things would work out better for his third pupil.

Jigoro smiled at the girl.

“Very well, Nezuko Kamado. From this day forward, you’re now my new student.”

"Dear Old Man,

I’m finally writing to you.

Happy? 

You said to write if something ever…came up.

Well, something did.

There’s a girl heading your way in desperate need of instruction. She’s convinced herself that she can become a demon slayer, even going as far as to try and attack me unarmed. She’s doing this because a demon killed her family, and turned her brother, so now she wants to try to find a cure for him.

The thing is, I don’t think he’ll harm another human.

Something’s different about these two, I can sense it. The girl has a keen sense of intuition and is sensitive to emotions, like some sort of sixth sense. Similar to how you and the brat had have incredible hearing.

So maybe, she’ll find a way to break through.

I’m asking you to give the girl a chance, but you don’t have to give anything more than that. Honestly, I don’t think she’ll make the cut, but you always had a way of turning strays into something useful.

It’s dumb, but you said it yourself; I need to try if I want to change.

Well, this is my first attempt at trying.

I know it might seem like a delusional request. One that, if I’m wrong about this, could cost us our reputations and lives, but please, humor me.

Who knows, maybe this will all make sense one day.

Take care Old Man,

Kaigaku Inadama.”

Chapter Text

Dear Tanjiro,

Starting today, I’m going to be keeping a journal of my time and training here with Mr. Kuwajima–err, I guess Sensei now. Since I’m going to be learning a lot from him from here on out, I thought it best to have somewhere to record my progress and important information for my training. Plus, if you wake up and I’m away for the day, you can read this so you won’t be bored!

It’s been one week since I passed Sensei’s test, and we haven’t done anything yet since he wanted to give me time to rest and let my injuries recover before starting training. I REALLY wanted to start the next day since I only have so much time to fulfill my end of the wager, but he told me that I need to remember to take care of myself and be in peak condition to take full advantage of his training. I tried to argue, but he threatened to hit me with his cane again if I didn’t stay in bed, so I did.

(You must think I’m a hypocrite since I would force you to rest like that too, huh? Ironic how things turned out.)

Anyways, don’t worry. I really like Sensei, and he promised that he’ll teach me enough to hold my own against demons. He says it’ll be a difficult road for me since I have no previous experience with fighting, but he really believes that even though it’ll be a bit close, two years should be just enough for me to be ready for Final Selection. And once I pass, I’ll be able to properly look after you until I can turn you back into a human!

I promise, I’m going to do my very best! I’ll make you proud, Big Brother!

-Nezuko

P.S. I’ll leave space for you to write something for if you wake up while I’m out training. Even if it’s just “Hi,” knowing that you were awake would make me happy!

There was knocking on the door. “Training will begin soon. Be ready in a few minutes.”

Nezuko looked up from her journal and turned toward the doorway. “Yes, sir!”

The sound of footsteps faded from the other side as Nezuko set her ink brush down, her eyes lingering on the semi-visible characters illuminated by the light of the room’s lamp. She closed the journal and stood to change into the set of clothes she had been given the day prior to wear for training.

The outfit was a pair of black pants and a light gray yukata with a similar triangle pattern to Kuwajima’s kimono but in white. They were a little big, and clearly boys' clothing (something her new mentor had apologized for), but she was assured that for the type of training she was going to be taking part in, they would serve their purpose.

Nezuko hadn’t argued, as she was used to wearing hand-me-downs and didn’t care much for wearing anything too new/expensive. It was the very reason she had worn the same pink kimono since she was young, making alterations as she got older so her family could use what little money they had on food and her younger siblings.

Said kimono, along with her brown haori and Tanjiro’s checkered one, were tucked away, to be washed and repaired whenever she had free time. She almost wanted to turn away the offer of clothes when they were initially given to her, but the more she thought about it, the more she realized that she barely made it through the ten laps in the forest in her tattered and bloody kimono. If that was going to be the work she would be doing for the next two years, then wearing a long loose garment would only hinder her.

She wasn’t going to part with it just yet, though. Just as she knew Tanjiro’s green haori was important to him, her pink kimono was not something she was ready to let go of yet.

With that thought, Nezuko knelt by the futon still out after she finished changing. Tanjiro still was sleeping, as he had been since the day they arrived. She fiddled with the covers a bit and gently tucking a stray strand of unnaturally bright red hair behind his ear.

“I’ll be back,” Nezuko whispered. “Don’t worry about me. I promise, I’ll get stronger for the both of us.”

She lingered for a second, waiting for a response. When he didn’t even so much as twitch, she sighed and figured it was best to let him be. Even though he had been sleeping for the entire week and hadn’t woken up once, she could still catch the shallow rising and falling of his chest or the occasional eye twitch. He was breathing and moving still, so that must have meant everything was still okay.

She hoped that meant everything was still okay.

It was then that there was a knock and the door to their room slid open, Kuwajima– Sensei , standing at the threshold to the room. “Are you ready?”

Nezuko nodded, blowing out the lantern light next to the bed and rising to her feet. She spoke a bit louder when she turned back to her new teacher. “I’m ready, sir.”

With one last look at her brother, both of them exited the room, shutting the door softly and leaving the sleeping demon alone.

Nezuko yelped as she ran beneath the canopy of white blossoms once again, this time under broad daylight, and narrowly avoided a barrage of small rocks from the side. She rolled into the dirt and quickly sprang up, continuing her run through the trees and becoming a bit more familiar with the path.

As she continued her laps, the words of her sensei from earlier in the week came back to her.

“The Demon Slayer Corps is an organization that has been around since ancient times, though not recognized by the government and with the identity of our leader remaining a mystery to all but a select few. There are many of us, and our sole duty, as I am sure you have figured out by now, is the eradication of demons, creatures with supernatural strength and powers.

“The only way to completely destroy a demon is through the use of sunlight or decapitation with swords made of a special steel. And yet, we demon slayers fight these immortal beings with our mere mortal strength. Our wounds may take time to heal, and the loss of a limb is permanent, but we will always fight to protect humanity from the monsters that prowl under the cowardice of the night. Understand?”

Nezuko nodded. The two of them were sitting across from each other in the main room, drinking tea as the early morning sun filtered into the old house.

Kuwajima continued with his lecture. “I am a demon slayer cultivator, and it’s my job to train bright-eyed newbies like yourself to become exceptional swordsmen. There are others like me with different styles of training, but since you ran into that idiot Kaigaku on the mountain, you’re stuck with me for the foreseeable future. In that case, I’ll decide whether or not you’ll take the Final Selection test on Mount Fujikasane.”

Nezuko continued to nod, the information being somewhat familiar to her since her encounter with the rude swordsman. “And if I pass, I’ll officially become a demon slayer, right?”

 “Correct,” Kuwajima rumbled. His gaze slid over to the door behind her, where he knew Tanjiro was currently sleeping. “Now, I know the stakes that are involved and the time constraint you’re under, but I mean it; I won’t send you there unless I think you’re ready.”

Nezuko frowned, but didn’t argue. She stared at the tea in her cup, watching as the steam rose and curled, distorting her reflection of worry and doubt. “But…do you really think I can do this?”

There was a pause, then a hum. “Honestly, your chances are slim. Not only do you come from a more gentle upbringing, but you lack some of the basic strength men are expected to produce. Many say this profession doesn’t suit women, claiming them to be weak and that surviving Final Selection is a near impossible task that only the strongest come out of.”

A flash of indignation burned and Nezuko looked up to rebuttal the old man’s words, but was surprised to see him grinning at her.

“So by that very logic, we can only assume that the women that do pass and serve the Corps are among the strongest warriors and individuals to grace Japan, don’t you agree?”

Nezuko leapt over a pitfall, ducking a swinging tree branch and quickly stepping over tripwires she could barely see. She resumed her running pace again, but felt her heart drop at the telltale snap of a wire and a large rock careened into her. Nezuko didn’t have time to dodge it, smashing into a tree off to the side.

She crumpled to the ground in a cry of pain, and laid there for a few beats, catching her breath. Her side and leg muscles throbbed with dull pain, and her lungs burned with each breath she took. She felt gross with sweat from the sun and exertion, already covered in dirt and leaves.

A part of her wanted to quit, be done with this stupid running.

But…

“I won’t sugarcoat it, this isn’t going to be easy.” Kuwajima took a sip from his drink, his expression thoughtful but stern. “You’re already at a bit of a disadvantage not being able to take your time with this and having to work twice as hard to gain the strength and respect you deserve. But I promise, I’m going to give you every opportunity I can to help you reach your goal. If you’re committed and truly have your heart set on this, then I’ll make it happen. Sound good?”

Nezuko blinked, a bit overwhelmed yet touched by the amount of faith Kuwajima seemed to have in her. After the past two weeks she had, it felt nice, and sparked her resolve to accomplish her goal and protect her older brother even more.

She could do this.

“Yeah,” she breathed, sitting up straighter and smiling with more determination. “Yes, I won’t let you down, Sensei! I can do it!”

Kuwajima laughed, something proud slipping onto his face. “That’s the spirit! Just what I like to hear! I mean, you won’t be saying that once I start making you run a hundred laps a day, but that’s the enthusiasm we’re looking for.”

Nezuko giggled and both took a sip of their tea. The silence didn’t last when Nezuko suddenly choked and spat out her drink.

“Wait how many laps?!”

Nezuko grunted and forced herself back up, ignoring the pain and exhaustion plaguing her body. She took a few stumbling steps, but eventually found her pace again, passing the starting point. There was no stopping, she just had to keep going, remembering her sensei’s words and the belief in her abilities.

I can do this.

I promise, Sensei.

Nezuko barreled onward into her next lap.

That was how the majority of her training started.

Thankfully, Kuwajima wasn’t making Nezuko run a hundred laps every day (something that had her breathing a HUGE sigh of relief). Rather, Nezuko was required to run under the white flower path ten times a day to begin building up her speed and stamina.

It was tiring enough to do at the crack of dawn, but the added traps made the entire endeavor more stressful than she hoped it would be. What was even more frustrating was the fact that the traps were never the same; every lap she ran had a different placement of the wires and pits and branches. It made it nearly impossible to find a pattern, leaving her to rely on her instincts and senses.

(It also made her wonder where Kuwajima had the time to reset and move the traps since he was with her most of the time for training)

Running wasn’t the only type of training Nezuko focused on, though. She also did a large variety of exercises designed to work out every muscle in her body, the most strenuus ones being centered on improving her lack of upper body strength. At the end of every day, she would hobble back to her room and flop face first onto her futon, her entire body feeling as though she had been crushed in a landslide and had to claw her way out.

She had mumbled this one morning under her breath as she made her way to the running path. A loud cackle from behind made her scream and her heart nearly exploded in her chest. She turned around and saw Kuwajima poking his head out the door, smiling and throwing her a thumbs up.

“It means it’s working! We can start the hard stuff tomorrow! Good luck with that!”

He disappeared, and Nezuko tried not to let the annoyance show on her face the rest of her day. She didn’t know what to be more upset about; the fact that her mentor was having fun at her misery, or that somehow, he had heard her grumbling (that wasn’t even the first time! How did this keep happening?).

Still, she sucked it up and kept working.

And once the first month had passed, her training got more…interesting.

Dear Tanjiro,

Today I was given a real sword to use during training.

And apparently, there’s a right and a wrong way to hold it…

Nezuko examined the weapon that was in her hands. It looked similar to the sword Kaigaku had been using when they first met, except the blade was silver with yellow lines like lightning bolts spreading across the metal.

“This is a nichirin sword,” Kuwajima explained as the girl carefully examined the weapon in her hands. “It’s made from the steel I mentioned before. One that absorbs sunlight and gives it the strength to destroy demons.”

“Wow,” Nezuko breathed, running her fingers along the jagged lines and finding the surface of the blade to be perfectly smooth. It felt weird holding the sword, the rough leather around the handle rubbing against the soft palms of her hands. Despite clearly being a worn training sword, she couldn’t help but marvel at how it was just as elegant as the one she saw Kaigaku use. “It’s beautiful.”

Kuwajima nodded, walking a little closer and adjusting Nezuko’s grip on it. “Yes, and as deadly as they are, they can be quite fragile when used incorrectly. They’re weak on the sides, so always make sure you apply force along the blade’s edge where it’s strongest. You have to match the direction the blade’s facing with where you’re swinging it, otherwise it’ll break. And trust me, you DO NOT want to meet the people that will come for you if your sword breaks.”

“Why?” Nezuko asked, cocking her head curiously at the old man. “Are they mean?”

Her sensei stared at her, then grimaced. “Mean…isn’t the word I’d use. Just, don’t break your sword, okay?”

Nezuko nodded, deciding not to question her mentor’s words. Kuwajima then handed her a worn sword sheath and began walking back to where she usually did her non-running training. “Put that on quickly. We’ll be going over a few exercises I want you to practice with the blade.”

“Okay!”

Nezuko sheathed the sword, and looped the old strap on it over her shoulder so it was across her back. She followed the old man, and tried not to let her expression sour too much when he began explaining how she would be swinging her sword a thousand times a day and taking it with her for her morning runs.

He turned back to say something else, but froze. His eyes widened, and Nezuko couldn’t tell if it was from shock or horror.

“What?”

“WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?”

“Huh?” Nezuko stepped back and gripped the strap across her chest. “I don’t-?”

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH YOUR SWORD?”

“My sword-I just, I put it on! Isn’t this-?”

“NOT LIKE THAT! YOU LOOK RIDICULOUS!” Kuwajima jabbed his cane at her, looking very close to just throwing the stick at her. “Put that on your waist, now! Like a normal person!”

Her mouth opened to rebuttal, but one look at the rage building in his eyes silenced her. Nezuko wrestled the sword off and quickly fixed it so it rested just above her hip. “L-Like that?”

“Yes! I thought it’d be fairly obvious!” Kuwajima dragged a hand down his face and muttered under his breath, “God, this new generation of slayers is getting ridiculous. Don’t even know where to put their goddamn belts these days.”

“S-Sorry, sir,” Nezuko mumbled, trying not to fidget too much from the embarrassment. “I-”

“I don’t want to hear any more of it! Just start swinging your sword!”

“Y-Yes, sir!”

And that’s how Nezuko spent the rest of her day.

“Wait, so wearing it on your back is, like, wrong, right?”

“Yes.”

“And everyone knows this?”

“Yes, it’s common sense.”

“...then why does Kaigaku wear his sword like that?”

“Because he thinks it makes him look cool or something, I don’t know!”

“Okay, sorry sir.”

“...”

“...”

“Nezuko.”

“Yes, Sensei?”

“I want you to know…if I catch you wearing your sword like that again, I’m going to make you run nonstop the entire day or until you puke and pass out. So don’t you dare let me catch you copying that idiot!”

“... Yes, Sensei .”

After that, Nezuko started running her laps with her sword.

It was a lot harder than she thought it was going to be originally. The added weight not only made dodging some of the traps more difficult, but the sheath kept getting caught against stray branches and undergrowth (there was even one embarrassing moment when she actually tripped over the sheath, causing her to get caught in a rope trap and dangle from the air for a few minutes).

All in all, she was starting to see why Kaigaku had worn his on his back. She was very tempted to even start wearing it that way, but the threats her mentor made against her were enough to keep her from trying anything away from his watchful eyes.

So she continued to stumble through her running, trying not to feel discouraged when she kept triggering more traps than she had gotten used to.

Dear Tanjiro,

Today I learned how to fall down and get back up quickly.

It didn’t help that my opponent was blindfolded the entire time…

“Come at me, Nezuko!”

“But…” The girl trailed off, staring helplessly at her mentor as he stood across from her, wielding nothing but his cane and a blindfold over his eyes. Her grip on her sword was loose, every instinct in her body telling to not attack the defenseless old man standing in the clearing.

And did she mention the fact that he was wearing a blindfold ?

“What are you waiting for? The sun to set?” Kuwajima growled, tapping his cane impatiently. “The demons won’t wait for you to make up your mind. You have to be the one to strike first and without mercy. Otherwise, you die!”

“But…isn’t this a bit much?” Nezuko tried to reason. This felt a bit too extreme for her first practice. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Kuwajima had the audacity to laugh at her and shake his head. “Oh young lady, right now, you couldn’t hurt me even if you came at me with a bigger sword or god forbid a gun. I can easily whip your butt in a matter of seconds.”

…Well that was a little rude.

“Quit overthinking things and just charge! Let out a barrage and don’t stop!”

Nezuko frowned, but figured arguing was going to get her nowhere. So, she took a basic fighting stance, breathed, and ran at Kuwajima with all her might.

She only made it a few steps in front of him before she was flipped into the air and landed hard on her back.

“Ow!” She cried, wincing at the cackling her mentor was making at her. “How did you-?”

“Don’t stop! Keep going!” He called.

Nezuko grunted, but followed the command and rolled into a stand, grabbing her sword and charging again.

This went on for several hours until the old man called it quits, removing the cloth around his eyes and moving so he stood over a thoroughly battered and bruised Nezuko.

“Never underestimate your opponent, no matter the condition they are in,” Kuwajima said, holding out a hand for Nezuko and helping her up. “Sight isn’t the only important sense your body utilizes. In life or death situations, you have to trust your instincts and whatever information you can gather in the moment. It may just very well save your life.”

Nezuko sighed but nodded, walking back toward the house to rest her weary bones. Her master’s cane intercepted her path.

“Oh yeah, you’re going to start running laps at night again. We need to build up more of that stamina since you couldn’t even get a hit on me. And no slacking off!”

Nezuko tried not to let the miserable expression show too much on her face.

Oh lucky me.

Ten laps in the morning and ten laps at night was a lot. It left her legs feeling those of a newborn deer and her entire body ready to fall apart. There were even days where she found herself puking from the exertion, and very tempted to just fall asleep on the training track the moment she completed her workout.

It was awful and painful and not a pleasant experience at all.

But Nezuko persisted.

She continued to swing her sword until her arms wanted to fall off so she would learn the basic sword swinging movements. 

She continued with attacking Kuwajima despite every bruise her body and pride would suffer, learning to take falls quickly and to recover just as fast for the next strike.

And she continued pushing herself despite the pain and exhaustion that now constantly plagued her. Because at the end of the day, there was no good reason to stop.

Because stopping meant giving up, and she wasn’t about to do that anytime soon.

Dear Tanjiro,

Today, I learned the proper way to breathe.

It's actually a lot more complicated than it looks…

Nezuko and Kuwajima were sitting across from each other once again, only this time under one of the flowering peach trees. Both were in meditative positions, but the older man was explaining the importance of breathing and different styles as Nezuko kept her eyes closed and practiced taking “proper” breaths.

Deep breath in…

Deep breath out…

Apparently this was known as Total Concentration Breathing.

“Remember, take your time with your deep breathing so that as much oxygen can flow through every cell in your body as possible,” Kuwajima told her. “It will aid in your ability to heal and recover from injuries as well as energize yourself should you find your strength lacking.”

Deep breath in…

Deep breath out…

Nezuko didn’t respond, not wanting to break her rhythm. She did her best to block out the hums and chirps of nature around her and focused only on the sound of her breaths and the rumble of Kuwajima’s voice. It helped a bit that her mentor was tapping his finger against his cane at a slower pace than he normally did as he spoke, the steady staccato giving her a way to time how long to hold each inhale and exhale.

“For your reference, there are five main breathing styles; Water, Flame, Wind, Stone, and Thunder.” Kuwajima’s voice continued to explain. “Of course, there are other subcategories of breathing that have appeared overtime, but those won’t be your area of focus for now.”

Deep breath in…

Deep breath out…

“Each one has their own strengths and weaknesses, but they typically focus on a certain strength or skill of the body. The more in-tune with them you are, the more powerful your attacks become. For example, Water Breathing tends to be seen as a more defensively adaptive style while Flame Breathing is revered for its natural offensive power.”

Deep breath in…

Deep breath out…

The tapping ceased and there was rustling fabric.

“Alright, enough of that. Up, now.”

Nezuko opened her eyes and squinted at the bright sunlight streaming through the leaves and branches above. She stood up with Kuwajima, stretching her arms above her head and pushing her shoulder length hair out of her face.

“I’m going to show you all six forms of your breathing style, so pay very close attention and take note of everything, and I mean everything . Okay?”

Nezuko nodded, taking a few steps back to give the old man space before asking, “So then, what breathing style will I be learning?”

Kuwajima smiled, something sharp and excited in the grin he gave her. “Why, only the fastest of all the breathing styles; Thunder Breathing.”

New exercises were added to Nezuko’s training once she started practicing the forms.

One involved lunging at a tree, drawing her sword, and slashing it quickly before using her foot to push her back and sheathe her sword in one fluid motion. This would be repeated, alternating what foot she would push off of and learning to quickly draw her blade.

Another had her doing lunges and slashing at invisible foes with her blade, going back and forth countless times until she reached a high number or grew too dizzy from the constant twisting.

The worst involved doing a mix of them, but with some sort of handicap like a blindfold or (her least favorite) having rocks tied to her ankles.

Nezuko began to wonder how anyone who used thunder breathing still had legs.

Dear Tanjiro, 

Today, I learned to become one with lightning.

…

I didn’t like it…

“Are you afraid of heights?”

Nezuko paused her sword swinging and stared at the old man, confused when he asked this one day. “No? I mean, I’ve climbed trees before-”

“Good enough. Follow me.”

Nezuko did, and the two of them ended up in a much more spacious area with non-flowering trees scattered throughout.

Kuwajima gestured to them. “Pick one.”

Nezuko stared at the old man questionably. “What?”

“A tree. Pick one and climb.”

“Okay…” Nezuko wandered around a bit, and then found a sturdy-looking tree with enough low branches for an easy climb. She turned back to Kuwajima and pointed. “Is this one okay?”

He nodded, stroking his chin and chuckling. “Yeah, that’s a good one. I think that was my favorite back in the day.”

Okay, this is getting a little weird.

Still, against her better judgment, Nezuko carefully grabbed onto the branches and hauled herself up until she found a good spot to sit in the strong arms of the tree. “So now what?”

“We wait.” Kuwajima looked up at the sky, staring at a few clouds that were turning gray above them.

“For what?”

“Nature.”

Fifteen Minutes Later…

“I HATE NATURE!”

A full-blown storm blew through the area, rocking the tree Nezuko was now gripping for dear life. Lightning flashed and thunder boomed, the distorted light bolts appearing as though they were VERY close to hitting her.

A bolt did almost hit the tree and she screamed, her body becoming numb and cold from raindrops pelting at her drenched figure. The wind was blowing more of the icy daggers at her and shaking her so badly she was sure that her body would have flown off the branch had it not been for her fingers digging into the rough yet slick bark of the tree.

She didn’t care that she sounded like a little kid and was clinging to her tree like a drowned cat that got stuck. Nezuko was fairly certain she was going to die if she stayed outside any longer.

Her mentor didn’t seem to care at all.

“It’s just a little rain!” Kuwajima called from below, ignoring that he was getting soaked to the bone and that his hair and kimono were plastered to his body. “Come on, I honestly should have done this in your first week of training. This is your chance to scream at the sky and show nature you’re not afraid of it! This is supposed to be fun!”

“THIS IS FUN?!”

“Not with that attitude!”

It wasn’t fun.

She wanted to go down now .

Another boom, and Nezuko clung tighter as the branch shook more violently with the wind. She REALLY wanted to quit.

But Nezuko wasn’t going to when she made it this far already.

For Tanjiro…For Tanjiro…For Tanjiro…

DO IT FOR YOUR BIG BROTHER!

“I’M DOING THIS FOR YOU TANJIRO!” Nezuko bellowed at the thunderstorm. She raised herself up a little and screamed at the force of nature. “YOU HEAR ME? I’M NOT AFRAID OF A LITTLE STORM!”

Against her better judgment, Nezuko stood up and roared at the gray abyss above her.

“I AM LIGHTNING!!!!”

BOOM

Nezuko screamed and lost her balance as a lightning bolt struck the ground inches in front of her face. She fell out of the tree and landed hard (She was very grateful that she learned how to fall without it hurting too bad at this point, but still).

“Wow, that was pretty close,” Nezuko heard Kuwajima muse over the rain (she couldn’t tell if his tone was serious or not). “We should probably head back now before it gets worse.”

It gets worse?!

They did this every time it stormed.

The laps had increased to twenty in the morning and twenty at night.

Tree climbing and sitting through entire storms was included now in training.

Getting thrown over an old man’s shoulder and practicing drawing and sheathing a sword until it could be done in less than half a second became a daily task.

Nezuko’s new normal was not what she was expecting, and still there were surprises for her.

Dear Tanjiro,

Today I went in to town to help Mr. Kuwajima sell produce.

For some reason, a lady asked about you…

As she was becoming more familiar with her new home, Nezuko was helping out around the orchard more and more. Nothing too strenuous, basically tending to some of the soil in the area and making sure the younger trees got plenty of water. Though as time went on, Kuwajima did start teaching Nezuko how to prune the trees and help harvest the peaches that were now filling the trees in place of many of the delicate flowers.

It was definitely more than the chores she used to do at the Kamado household, but it was helping her to maintain her new growing-strength and keep herself busy when she wasn’t doing small chores in-between training. In all honesty, it was a nice break.

And once spring was toward its end and summer around the corner, the girl and older man began bringing the picked peaches into town nearby to sell.

“Oh my goodness! Jigoro, who is this girl?”

Jigoro helped unload one of the many baskets of peaches Nezuko was carrying and addressed the woman who noticed their arrival. “This is Nezuko, my newest ward. She’s been living with me for almost six months now and has been a great deal of help this season.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am,” Nezuko said with a polite bow and smile. “Mr. Kuwajima has been taking great care of me, and I’ve been helping a lot with the orchard these last few months. So I hope you enjoy the peaches.”

The woman stared at Nezuko for a beat before cooing and pressing her hands to her mouth. “Oh, what an absolute sweetheart! Jigoro, where did you find such a polite young girl? Never mind that, tell me about yourself sweetie!”

Nezuko giggled at the attention as more people came out to greet her sensei and meet the new girl in town.

The people who lived there were friendly, just like back at home, but they didn’t seem to know anything about Jigoro being a demon slayer cultivator; to them, he was just a friendly old man who was more than happy to share the fruits he grew.

Soon Nezuko found herself in a nice flow of meeting people, catching up on all the gossip they insisted she needed to know, and selling the fresh peaches to anyone who was interested.

The interactions were nice, and warmed something in her that she hadn’t felt since leaving home.

It was a bit nostalgic. It was just like home.

Though she didn’t get to ruminate about it for long as Nezuko was currently selling peaches to a few women while Kuwajima entertained other townsmen a little further away.

“You must stop by my shop when you have time,” one lady insisted as she inspected the young girl’s dull-colored yukata. “I could make you a beautiful kimono to wear when you go out. A young lady like yourself should be wearing something more your age and size.”

Nezuko smiled as she took the woman’s money. “Thank you, ma’am. I’ll think about it. To be honest, I didn’t bring much with me before I came to live with Mr. Kuwajima, so I really appreciate your offer.”

“Oh how polite!” Another lady gushed as the other two whispered their own compliments. Nezuko handed the lady her peaches and turned to an older woman who looked very excited to talk to her.

“I must say, Jigoro is so lucky to have such a kind beauty as you.” The woman handed over her money and returned Nezuko’s beaming smile. “You and your brother are so lucky to have such a caring grandfather.”

Nezuko hummed and was about to hand over the fruit when she froze. Something in her chest tightened, a mix of shock and confusion.

“Wait, how did you-?”

The woman continued speaking over her, taking the offered peaches. “How is he, by the way? It’s been quite a few years since we last saw him.”

…What?

That…couldn’t be right. Jigoro made it very clear that they needed to keep any mention of Tanjiro to a minimum, lest any unwanted attention be brought to their very delicate (and slightly illegal, according to the old man) situation.

But she knows…How does she know?

Are there other people that know?

Oh my gosh, did I overshare something? I don’t think I did. Or, maybe…I don’t know!

How does she know?!

Nezuko couldn’t think. She barely noticed the confusion on the women’s faces and suddenly wished for a way out of this conversation, no matter how rude it would be. She felt her hands shaking and tried not to let her anxiety show too much. “I don’t…I mean, my brother-?”

“Oi, Nezuko! I need your help here and then we can leave!”

Nezuko looked toward the voice and felt herself sag with relief at her mentor’s gruff command. “Coming!” She turned back to the women and gave them a short bow. “Please excuse me, thank you.”

She took the basket she was using and tried not to make it obvious how quickly she wanted to get away. Thankfully, they finished up relatively fast and left town within the hour.

When they were far enough on the way back to the orchard, Jigoro broke the silence. “They weren’t talking about your brother.”

Nezuko turned to the man in shock. “Huh? Wait how-?”

“I have good hearing. Always had. Surprised you didn’t figure out that was how I was sensing your movements during fall training.”

“That…wow, yeah. I didn’t even realize that. But wait, you sure-?”

“Yes, they were thinking of someone else.”

Nezuko was still puzzled by that, pulling at the basket on her back and tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “But that lady said he was your grandson. I didn’t know you had kids.”

“I don’t.”

“Oh…then who-?”

Kuwajima cut her off a bit more forcefully. “It was probably Kaigaku. I did bring him by sometimes. Caused a hell of a lot of trouble when I did. But don’t worry about it, sometimes the people there get mixed up and just assume you’re all related to me or something. But drop it, it won’t happen again.”

Nezuko didn’t say anything after that, but the entire walked back, Kuwajima had a stoic yet angry look on his face that radiated off his aura strongly.

She didn’t make many trips back to town after that.

“Hana, don’t you remember? Jigoro said the boy was only staying with him for a short time before going back to live with his family.”

“Oh that’s right! The poor girl must have been so confused.”

“Jigoro grew really attached to him. And he asked that we don’t bring him up too much. It must be painful to talk about, so we need to keep that in mind.”

“Poor boy, he left so suddenly too. I hope he’s doing okay.”

Nezuko’s laps went up to thirty in the morning and at night.

When she was told this, surprisingly, she didn’t care.

Dear Tanjiro,

Please wake up.

I miss you…

The brush hovered inches above the paper, but no strokes were made.

For once, the words wouldn’t come to her.

Nezuko chanced a look behind her, but her brother laid still on his futon, essentially comatose and dead to the world around him.

Nothing had changed for the past six months. He hadn’t moved, spoken, or given any sign that he was ever going to wake up. Even when she expressed these concerns to Kuwajima who in turn had a doctor come in and examine Tanjiro, nothing was found to be wrong with him.

Tanjiro was just…sleeping.

And yet no matter how many times she told herself that, was told that by her mentor and a medical professional, Nezuko couldn’t stop the slew of intrusive thoughts that would swarm her mind like a hornet’s nest.

What if he stays like this forever?

What if the next time he wakes up, he doesn’t remember who you are?

What if he dies in his sleep?

What if he dies without you there with him?

The ink brush was set down harshly and the journal was slammed shut.

Don’t think like that. Now’s not the time for that.

Nezuko took a deep breath, held it, and slowly released it, focusing on the feeling of the wooden desk, the perpetual ache in her legs that came from training, the loose strands of hair tickling the back of her neck and face from her hunched posture.

She couldn’t fall apart. Not yet, when she could feel how much closer she was to her goal than when she first started.

I can do this.

For Tanjiro.

That night, she fell asleep on Tanjiro’s futon, curled up against his side and gripping his shoulder tightly.

In the days following, Nezuko stopped writing in her journal.

Fifty laps in the morning. Fifty laps at night.

It was the hardest level of training she was currently doing.

But now Nezuko was faster and more agile than when she first ran through the canopy. Her breathing had gotten more controlled, and her sword was no longer a hindrance to her.

She no longer triggered the pitfalls, her steps light and quick enough that the ground never had an opportunity to collapse under her weight. She learned to rely on her sense of hearing more, avoiding branches and rocks that would fall from the trees above signaled only by the slightest noise. She learned to be quick when using her extra sense on the trees and ground as she dodged and rolled to avoid obstacles, learning where they were moments before they activated or she tripped them.

Not even the new traps could stop her. Barrages of knives coming from the side, swinging boards of spikes threatening to take her head out, and boulders as large as her impeded her progress. 

She adapted and rolled with the punches as they came. If they knocked her down, she barely wasted a second swiftly coming back to her feet. If they threw something at her she couldn’t dodge, she would use her sword to deflect the blows. If she got tired, she focused on different pain or drew her attention to the next potential trap.

She didn’t quit.

Nezuko would succeed, and nothing would stop her.

Except for one final test.

“You’re done.”

“...What?”

Exactly one year after Nezuko had stayed in the orchard, Kuwajima told Nezuko that he had nothing left to teach her.

She couldn’t help but gape at the old man, finding it difficult to digest what he said so nonchalantly.

Because, that’s it? Did…She did it?

“Does that mean I’m ready for Final Selection?” Nezuko asked, a bit of hope filling her chest. It was unfortunately dashed when the old man chuckled and gestured for her to follow him.

(The whole way, she prayed that he wouldn’t stick her in another tree)

The two ended up walking a lot farther than they normally did for training, all the while the sky began turning an ominous smokey gray. Nezuko felt her heart sink a bit, knowing by now that they were heading into another storm.

(And yeah, she’d gotten used to training in those now, but that didn’t mean she enjoyed them, okay!)

They arrived at an open field, devoid of any trees save for a few black, withered and bare trunks. In fact, there was hardly any grass, just a large expanse of plain dirt land peppered with what looked like scorch marks on the ground.

“A single strike of lightning is faster than nearly any living being on Earth,” Kuwajima said. “Though with the supernatural abilities they have, demons may even surpass this speed under the right conditions. Any student of thunder breathing must be practiced in not only conquering lightning, becoming like lightning itself.”

But didn’t I already do that in training? Nezuko thought, thinking back to climbing the tree during a thunderstorm. She almost said out loud, but Kuwajima spoke over her.

“For your final test, I want you to deflect a lightning bolt.”

…

…

…

In all honesty, Nezuko expected herself to have a bigger reaction, but after everything she went through in the past year…yeah, this was pretty ridiculous, but not something she was particularly surprised by.

Heck, she was surprised by what she said in response.

“...I think I’ll die if I try to do that.”

Kuwajima shrugged, answering without missing a beat. “Eh, no one’s died from doing this yet. I’d say there’s at least a forty percent chance you might end up with a couple of problems if you get struck and can’t deflect the lightning bolt successfully.”

Nezuko stared at the older man incredulously. “Seriously?”

Again, another nonchalant shrug. “Honestly, nearly every swordsman that’s practiced in thunder breathing has at least a few screws loose.” Kuwajima chuckled and nudged her a bit. “Consider it a rite of passage. Besides, what’s a little heart failure and abnormal twitching really gonna do to you? I’d say it adds a little personality.”

Nezuko didn’t even know what to say to that. She turned back toward the withered field, hearing the foreboding rumbling and watching as the clouds cast haunting shadows across the plot of land.

This was definitely going to be difficult.

“Go on!” Kuwajima pushed Nezuko forward into a slight stumble. “Give it a try. Deflect one lightning bolt, and I’ll let you enter Final Selection. Easy as that!”

Okay…yeah, that didn’t sound easy, but it was the motivation she needed.

Nezuko drew her sword and walked further into the field. Her eyes flickered around her surroundings, doing her best to sense the telltale change in the atmosphere. It was harder to do since the strike would come from above and she would have a split second to react.

So she waited…

And waited…

And waited…

And-

BOOM

Nezuko attempted to swing her sword, but the strike was right in front of her and she propelled herself backwards with a shout of surprise. She laid there a moment, staring at the new scorch mark on the ground, trembling as though she had been electrocuted.

Oh my gosh, I’m way over my head.

“Oi, are you alright?”
Nezuko took a moment to breathe and shook her head, clearing her thoughts. “Y-Yeah, just got startled.”

“Okay, then get back up! Try again!”

“Yes sir!”

And she did. But she never made contact.

True to his word, Kuwajima didn’t teach Nezuko anything else. All that was left for her was to conquer the impossible task.

She kept going back to the withered field, but every trip ended in failure (and her gaining a bit more ringing in her ears). No matter how hard she tried, she was never fast enough to strike the elusive bolts, and it was beginning to feel like an impossible task.

Because who in their right mind would want to hit a lightning bolt?

Who in their right thinks they can hit a lightning bolt?

She tried asking her sensei about it, but he wouldn’t tell her how. Sometimes he would give her advice on training, but never on the all-important task.

Every time, he would answer the exact same way: “You have to think about what you’ve learned and apply it to your forms. Once you see how, everything falls into place and you’ll accomplish a great deal more than deflecting a lightning bolt.”

It wasn't as helpful as it sounded.

So all Nezuko could do was continue her training. She continued running her laps everyday, dodging traps and putting her time with her mentor to use. She continued with her muscle strengthening exercises so all of the hard work she put into her body didn’t go to waste. She continued working on her sword and breathing forms so she would be ready to deflect the final obstacle in her way.

She continued practicing everything she knew.

But despite all of that, she remained stuck in place.

Another six months had passed, and Nezuko was getting desperate.

She only had another six months before the deadline for Final Selection. If she didn’t get in, Tanjiro was going to lose his head. And Nezuko refused to let that happen.

And yet, nothing she did was working.

She made zero progress in figuring out how to deflect a lightning bolt, and now because of that, she was going to fail.

A year and a half of training under her belt, and because of one stupid lightning bolt she couldn’t hit, Tanjiro’s life was in the hands of a man who had no qualms about ending it.

It’s just so unfair.

It’s so unfair…

It’s so-

“AUUUUUGH!”

Nezuko screamed into the rumbling clouds above, all of her anger and frustrations pouring out until her voice felt raw and hurt nearly as bad as it did when she had been choked by her brother.

“How am I supposed to do this?!” Nezuko stabbed her sword into the dry soil and paced around with her arms folded over her head. “Who’s even heard of deflecting a lightning bolt before? It’s impossible!”

The sky boomed with another strike, and that only made Nezuko even more mad. It got to the point that she found herself turning to the gray heavens and yelling with her arms spread wide.

“Show me! Show me one person who managed to do this! Please just give me something to work with here!”

There was no response. Nezuko groaned and decided that she was being ridiculous and probably needed to head home for a meal and rest before the exhaustion made her act any more crazy. She grabbed her sword and walked back toward the house, taking one last look around at the empty field and ignoring the boy that was standing farther from her, turning her back and leaving to-

Wait, a boy?

Nezuko paused midstep and looked back. She blinked several times and even walked a little closer, but she was right.

There was a boy standing in the field, dressed in yellow and holding a sword.

Where did he come from?

She didn’t get the chance to ponder this because in one fluid motion that seemed too perfect to be natural, the boy moved into a stance that Nezuko recognized as a thunder breathing position. Something in his posture changed, and then a flash of lightning followed by a boom overtook her senses.

In that split second, she saw something in the lightning strike shift and it changed directions!

But she didn’t have time to relish that because it took her a moment too late to realize that the lightning was redirected towards her.

…Oh, this is going to-

“NOOOOOOOO!”

There was a flash of yellow and the light scattered, sounding as though a thousand voices were screaming. Nezuko fell back in a cry of surprise, closing her eyes and covering her ears. All of her senses felt like they had gone into overdrive, and everything was too much. It was worse than any training she went through up until that point.

Is this what it's like to actually deflect a lightning bolt? Man, it sucks.

Thankfully, the ringing and spots in her eyes slowly began to wane, and as Nezuko carefully opened her eyes, she could make out a figure kneeling right before her. 

“-don’t be dead please don’t be dead please don’t be-”

“Uh…I’m not?”

There was a squeak and then a face overflowing with tears was inches from her. “OH THANK GOD I DIDN’T KILL YOU!”

Nezuko yelped and scrambled back. The boy did exactly the same thing, and the two were left staring at each other.

Nezuko couldn’t help but find his appearance a bit strange. His hair was a tad choppy and an unusual shade of yellow that faded to orange at the tips. It reminded her of the dandelions that she would sometimes find at her old home. He was also wearing a vibrant yellow yukata with white triangle patterns that looked like a much nicer version of hers.

In fact, it looked much like-

“You need to be more careful.”

Nezuko startled at the boy’s words. “Huh?”

He pointed a shaking finger at her, his honey brown eyes wide and teary still. “Y-You can’t just wander around here having no idea what you’re doing. You’ll get struck by lightning and it’ll ruin your life! Look what it did to me!”

Nezuko quickly scanned the boy, but other than the odd hair color, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. “You seem fine.”

The boy's expression morphed into one of shock and disbelief, but the tears returned tenfold.

“Oh my God, Gramps, what are you thinking?!” the boy wailed, pulling at his long hair. “Sending this sweet girl into danger? How can you do this to her? And after what happened to us too? You must be crazy! Insane! This is too cruel-!”

“Hey calm down, I chose to do this!” Nezuko tried to interrupt the strange boy’s sobbing. “Are you talking about Mr. Kuwajima? He sent me here as a final test and I’ve been trying for ages to try and deflect a lightning bolt. B-But you did it just now, didn’t you?”

The crying stopped and the boy whipped his head back toward Nezuko. “Wait, you saw that?” His eyes nearly bugged out of his head, reminding Nezuko a bit of a baby rabbit. “Like, you saw what I was doing? With your own two eyes?”

“Of course I did, I’m not blind,” Nezuko huffed. “You were using one of Sensei’s breathing techniques.”

“But you…How did you…I’m…” the boy trailed off, his gaze drifting to his hands and something blank settling over his face. The only evidence of the crying episode were the damp tear tracks on his slightly puffy cheeks.

Worry prickled at Nezuko’s skin, something in the atmosphere between them feeling much more wrong than it did moments earlier.

Did he just…shut down?

Nezuko began to reach for his arm, thinking he needed to be shaken awake, but clarity snapped back into his expression and he zoned in on the girl. She took her hand back, and the two found themselves staring at each other again, only this time it felt more awkward and out of place.

Might as well ask. Who else can I get help from?

“Can you…show me how to deflect a lightning bolt?” Nezuko asked. She knew it was a risk; a crazy one where she was asking a complete stranger who (sort of) almost killed her. But in retrospect, Nezuko only made it this far, trusting strangers and their kindness. It gave her the chance to spare her brother and opportunities for training. Now she just needed one more push.

And this very well may be her last chance to qualify for Final Selection before it was too late. And she was willing to bet it on this stranger’s trust.

The boy’s eyes widened and he looked very close to spiraling into another crying session. “Why me? I’m…I’m not worth it.”

“Yes you are!” Nezuko exclaimed. The boy nearly leapt back at her words, but she kept going. “I saw what you just did, and it was amazing! I still can’t figure out most of the forms and I have to pass this test. If I don’t, someone I love will get hurt and I can’t let them down, not after everything I’ve been through to get here. Please, help me!”

The boy went silent, something slipping into his face again that made Nezuko worry that he was going to space out again. But lowered his head and concealed his expression with his long hair so she couldn’t see his eyes.

“Are you sure?” he whispered, daring to look up at her.

Nezuko nodded. “Definitely.”

The boy peeked up, his eyes looking as though they were searching for something in her before they flickered away and a soft pink blush dusted his cheeks.

Cute.

Why was that the first thought that came to her head?

“Okay, I’ll help you.”

Nezuko couldn’t help the smile and the little sound of excitement she made. The boy looked startled by it, but didn’t try to look away from her.

“Thank you! You don’t know how much this means to me!” She sat up straighter, hope filling her chest again and excited to finally have a chance. “I’m Nezuko! What’s your name?”

The boy’s nervous gaze softened, and for the first time since meeting him, he smiled.

“I’m…My name is Zenitsu Agatsuma.”

Chapter Text

Dear Tanjiro,

If you’re reading this now and notice that there’s a bit of a gap between when I last wrote and this entry, it’s because I stopped writing here for a bit. I’m really sorry about that.

I was getting a bit discouraged and thought that it would be pointless to keep writing when it was clear you weren’t waking up any time soon. I thought I had recorded everything I needed to know, but rereading my notes on sword forms and breathing techniques made me realize that just because I’m not being taught anything new anymore doesn’t mean I can’t record day to day things that might be important later to go back and look at.

And I shouldn’t give up on you. I KNOW one day you’re going to wake up and when I can’t remember everything, I can use this to share what I did to get this far. So don’t worry, I'll keep writing so both of us can look back at this later when things are better, I promise.

Anyways, Sensei gave me my final test before he allows me to go to Final Selection; I have to deflect a lightning bolt. Crazy, right? Apparently, every thunder breathing slayer has done this, so I gotta do it myself to prove that I learned everything I need to from Sensei’s training!

And now I’m getting help from someone who knows Sensei!

His name is Zenitsu Agatsuma, and he’s a bit strange but cute nice! He’s really jumpy and cries a lot, and can be super loud when he gets stressed or I say something nice to him. But I saw him hit a lightning strike with a sword! It was so cool and you can tell he has a lot of skill. I just hope that I can be just as strong as him one day!

Anyways, I’m going to start training privately with him for the next six months until I can complete Sensei’s test! Zenitsu says it’s going to be terrible and difficult and that it’s gonna make me want to cry and die (in that order apparently), but I don’t care. I won’t let one last obstacle stop me from completing this test. No matter what it takes, I’ll do it.

I promise, I won’t give up, Big Brother! I’ll make you proud and turn you human!

-Nezuko

P.S. I’ll still leave some space for you here in case you do wake up. Even if you don’t, no worries; it’ll be here just in case.

Nezuko yawned, rubbing her eyes as she finished writing her latest journal entry. The exhaustion and constant aching of her body were making it difficult to focus, but she concluded her work and set her brush aside.

As much as she knew she needed sleep, a part of the girl was tempted to stay up a little longer and look through the entries she wrote down on total concentration breathing since she was still having trouble with that. Or she could look at the thunder breathing forms again that she had yet to get done perfectly (which was honestly all of them). No, maybe just a quick exercise for her leg muscles so she could have a little more strength tomorrow. Or maybe-

Nezuko blinked awake at the sudden pain on her forehead, realizing she had dozed off sitting up and had fallen asleep on the desk. She rubbed her head, wincing at the bruise.

Okay, I guess I need to get some sleep.

With that, Nezuko crawled over to her futon and laid under the covers, getting as close to the edge as she could so she could be pressed up against her sleeping brother. She cuddled close to him, one last thought in her head before falling asleep completely.

I promise, I’ll be strong enough for you, Big Brother.

No matter what it takes.

Nezuko left for the lightning field early the next morning, eager and anxious to start training with Zenitsu. Thankfully, the sky over the area wasn’t as dark and stormy as it was last time, so the strikes weren’t as frequent nor aggressive as they usually were later in the day. She took that as a good sign.

Now if only she could find the blond boy…

“Hey.”

Nezuko instinctively unsheathed her practice katana at the voice behind her. Zenitsu shrieked and fell to the ground, crawling a few feet away from her while shivering violently.

“Oh, sorry! I didn’t know you were there!” Nezuko quickly sheathed her blade and offered the boy her hand. His gazed at the hand before awkwardly looking away and quickly standing, not even bothering to dust himself off. She tried not to be offended by that. “So, uh, I’m ready to start training!”

“Huh?” Zenitsu gave her a blank look. “For what?”

Nezuko frowned. “So I can pass Mr. Kuwajima’s test? Deflecting the lightning bolt?” The boy cocked his head, no trace of recognition in his eyes. “Wait, you…don’t you remember that? From yesterday?”

In the distance, lightning struck the ground and thunder boomed. And Zenitsu’s eyes bulged and he screamed.

“Holy crap! You’re right! Why did I agree to that?” He started pacing back and forth, rambling and pulling at his hair like he did the day before. “And here I was thinking I had more common sense than that crazy old man! I don’t know the first thing about teaching. Crap, crap, crap, what am I supposed to do? I’m going to get her killed and she’s going to end up just like–”

“Um, maybe you can just start with telling me how you learned to strike the lightning bolt?” Nezuko interrupted, suddenly very worried the boy was one step away from having a panic attack. Zenitsu froze mid-step and stared at her with eyes that looked on the verge of tears. Nezuko sat down, folding her hands neatly in her lap and placing her practice sword in front of her.

She gestured for her to sit across from her. “Why don’t we just talk for a little while? Maybe if you explain it first, it’ll be easier to understand.”

Zenitsu gave a shaky nod and followed her example, sniffling and wiping his face with a yellow sleeve. “O-Okay, sorry.”

Nezuko waved him off, smiling. “It’s fine.”

Though that was a bit strange…Maybe he just has trouble remembering things?

I’m sure it’s fine. I shouldn’t be critical of others without knowing more about them, anyways. He agreed to help me, so I should give him a chance before judging him.

“Okay,” Nezuko said, sitting up a bit straighter and giving the blond boy her undivided attention once he stopped crying. “So, tell me, how do you go about passing the test?”

Zenitsu blinked a few times, resting his chin on his hand and frowning at the ground. “I guess I just kind of…I don’t know, think of it like when Gramps is telling me to go through the forms. I just use the one I can actually do and just…do it.”

“So you do actually use the forms to hit the lightning bolt?” Zenitsu nodded a bit distractedly. Nezuko found herself playing with the ends of her training yukata, trying not to feel too dumb about going months just waving her sword around.

“Yeah, you just focus, get ready to hit something, and then…hmm.” He squinted harder, like he was trying to solve difficult arithmetic. 

“By then, well, I start crying and telling Gramps that I don’t know what I’m doing. But then he either hits me with his cane or threatens to do it, so I try really hard to do what he wants, but then my nerves and heart feel like they’re gonna explode and I kind of blackout and wake up. And whatever I was trying to hit is…gone?” He looked up at Nezuko, expression completely oblivious to how ridiculous that sounded. “Does that make sense?”

…Never in Nezuko’s life had she been so tempted to lie to someone before. But she knew what would happen if she tried to do that. And frankly, she didn’t want to embarrass herself in front of Zenitsu.

So she was honest.

“No, I’m sorry. The rest of that made absolutely no sense.”

The blond’s face fell, and Nezuko immediately felt guilty about causing that. “I-I mean, the stuff about using the forms makes sense. I think I just need some clarification on how to use them properly.” She rubbed the back of her head, embarrassed. “I couldn’t even figure that out right away, so that helped. I must be pretty stupid not to think of that first.”

“What? No!” Zenitsu shook his head violently and waved his hands around. “Y-You just needed a bit of perspective, you know? I’m sure you would have figured it out. I can already tell you’re really smart and pretty just by looking at you!”

Nezuko blinked. “Huh?”

Zenitsu looked confused, but the look just as quickly faded and he slapped a hand over his mouth as his whole face when scarlet.

“Please don’t tell me I said that outloud,” he squeaked.

“Yeah, you did,” Nezuko said to herself, grabbing her sword and unsheathing it, staring at the silver and yellow reflection.

Perspective…maybe she was looking at the test all wrong. Perhaps there was a different way she could look at achieving her goal. It wasn’t just blindly swinging her sword; she needed to think carefully about where she was striking.

Though really, she needed to think carefully about what she was striking.

Maybe that’s the perspective I need to be focusing on. The girl thought, standing up and ignoring the noise Zenitsu made. Mr. Kuwajima was always going on about becoming “one with lightning,” so maybe this was what he meant?

Well, she didn’t have a lot of time to think about other options, so she might as well try this idea.

“Alright Zenitsu,” Nezuko said, pointing her sword at the boy. “How about you and I–”

“NO NO NO!” Zenitsu scrambled up and started running away from Nezuko. “I’M SORRY I CALLED YOU PRETTY! DON’T KILL PLEASE NEZUKOOOOO! AHHHHHH!”

Nezuko watched as Zenitsu bolted from his spot like his life depended on it, tripping several times before getting back up and fleeing like he was escaping a natural disaster. Nezuko just stood there as he continued screaming apologies and ran into the peach orchard.

What is up with him?

And when did he call me pretty?

…wait, he thinks I’m pretty?

She decided that was a thought for another time (one that she decided she wouldn’t be sharing with her older brother any time soon).

“Hey wait!” Nezuko called, grabbing her sword sheath and finally chasing after the boy. “Come back! I just wanted to spar! Why are you running away?”

After Nezuko finally caught up to Zenitsu (and apologized for implying that she was going to hit him for what he said), the two of them began sparring everyday.

It seemed reasonable enough; besides, Nezuko herself never had another person trained in her breathing style practice with her before. The closest she had was Mr. Kuwajima, but he never fought her with a sword and usually just acted as a target she could never hit to improve her aim, durability, and other senses. She couldn’t land a hit on him, no matter how hard she tried, and as much as she hated to admit, it always dampened her spirit a bit.

So, she didn’t think having Zenitsu as a sparring partner would be any more difficult, and maybe a tiny part of her hoped that he would be a slightly easier opponent for her to handle.

But as Nezuko started to find, training with Zenitsu was a whole other level of torture.

Even when he wasn’t using an exact form, the blond boy moved fast enough that he became a yellow blur that was nearly impossible to hit. Even when Nezuko tried actually applying the other forms, it was as though Zenitsu could sense what she was going to do and move out of the way, only to hit her with one of his own attacks.

In a strange way, the unpredictability of his attacks reminded her of lightning strikes. Sometimes she could only see where he was going to strike the moment before he did so.

But that wasn’t what frustrated her the most.

Sometimes, Nezuko swore she saw him fighting with his eyes closed, like he didn’t even need to see her to effortlessly strike her hard enough to send her flying (which would promptly be followed by him snapping out of whatever haze he had been in and all but screeching for her forgiveness at a decimal that made her ears ring). He would move and parry her attack effortlessly, leaving the girl struggling to keep up when he really got into a rhythm she couldn’t match.

It was times like those that made her feel like she was back in the lightning field, blindly waving her sword around and looking like an idiot.

And all of this with only using a wooden sword against her real one!

She asked about it one time, concerned that one of her moves would accidentally break the fake blade and seriously injure the boy. But Zenitsu had reassured that it was fine, babbling about how he knew how to avoid getting hit by her more deadly strikes and that she shouldn’t worry about him.

It still left her puzzled, and when she tried pressing more about what he meant, she was met with him rambling on and on about sword techniques and hellish training until Nezuko dropped it and they went back to training.

But at the very least, it felt like she was being productive and moving in the right direction. Along with her other exercises and daily running through the obstacle course, Nezuko could at least confidently say she was doing something to improve her abilities.

So despite how much every day left her battered with bruises and with muscles aches and cramps, she kept pushing herself to the absolute limit.

She could only hope that the results of all that work would come through sooner rather than later.

Dear Tanjiro,

I’ve started making some progress fixing some of your things!

I hope you don’t mind what I’ve done with the earrings…

“I’m surprised you don’t have your nose buried in your journal.”

Nezuko hummed, keeping her attention on the stitch she was making in Tanjiro’s haori. “I already did some studying earlier, and I’ve been training all day, so this is just next on the list of things I want to get done before Final Selection.”

Repairing their clothes had been something she kept putting off to focus on her training, but after another brutal session at the lightning fields, Nezuko was pretty sure if she did any more walking her legs would give out. So figuring now was as good a time as any, Nezuko grabbed her brother’s checkered haori and brought it out to the main room and worked by the firelight.

At the moment, it was the only thing of her brother’s she could take care of. The robe and pants he usually wore were in most need of stitching, but the bloodstains from his fight with the winged demon refused to come out, and parts of the clothing were beyond Nezuko’s mending abilities. For the time being, Nezuko decided to leave them be, and would probably ask Kuwajma later if they could go into town and buy her brother some clothes for when he woke up.

(It would be when, not if, he woke up)

“Well, make sure you’re not pushing yourself too hard,” Kuwajima said, returning his attention to his own writings. “I know you have a deadline to meet, but the last thing you need is overworking yourself and causing an injury that will take up too much recovery time.”

“I won’t, don’t worry,” Nezuko mumbled, carefully threading the needle and tying off her stitch. She held the checkered fabric out, pleased at her work. There were just a few more tears that needed sewing, so she brought it back and resumed her work.

The two worked in silence for a while afterwards, the crackling fire and faint brush strokes of Kuwajima being the only sounds filling the small house. It was calm and quiet, and in a way, the closest Nezuko felt to being back at home before everything happened. All that was missing was Tanjiro and her family.

She took closure in the fact that she at least had her older brother, even if he couldn’t be sitting with her right now.

But he will, you just have to be patient. If he were in your shoes, he would be telling himself the exact same–

A sharp pain bloomed in Nezuko’s finger. She hissed and dropped the haori and needle into her lap, sticking her finger in her mouth to stop the blood.

“I think that’s the fifth time you’ve pricked your finger in the last few minutes,” Kuwajima commented, looking up from his own work. “Maybe you should be getting to bed.”

Nezuko shook her hand out a little, suddenly feeling a few more pinpricks of pain on the pads of fingers that she didn’t even notice until now. At the same time, she yawned and was suddenly aware of how tired she felt.

Did I really zone out and not notice until now?

Maybe she was a little more tired than she thought.

“Yeah, I think you’re right.” Nezuko quickly finished the stitch she was working on and folded Tanjiro’s haori. “Sorry, I just really want to get this all done soon.”

The old man wavered her off. “Rushing won’t get you anywhere. Moderation is the key in any task you do. But let me know if you’re having trouble fixing anything. I may not be as good at sewing, but I know some people who are good at repairing things and would be happy to help.”

Nezuko paused, looking over at Kuwajima in surprise. “What sort of things do they repair?”

The older man grunted. “Anything really. I guess it depends on what it is specifically.”

An idea crept into the back of her mind.

Anything, huh?

“So like…what about delicate objects, or something made out of paper?”

“I suppose. They would have to know what it is before making any promises, but I haven’t heard of anything they couldn’t at least partially restore. Why?”

Nezuko mulled over his words, rubbing at the worn fabric of Tanjiro’s haori. Kuwajima stopped writing and turned his attention to the girl when her silence persisted. “Is there something you have in mind?”

Maybe...

Hopefully...

Nezuko got up and went back to her room, setting the haori next to where she kept her pink kimono (it was next on her list of things to fix once Tanjiro’s things were done). She then riffled through the pink fabric until she found what she was looking for.

She came back into the room with the hanafuda earrings cradled carefully in her hands and sat closer to Kuwajima so he could see.

“These belonged to my older brother,” Nezuko explained as the older man set aside his work to study them closer. “They’re family heirlooms, passed down to the eldest son, a-and they’re really important to him because they were a gift from our father and…”

And that monster that killed our family and turned Tanjiro destroyed them.

“They’re just, really important to him, to us.” Nezuko shook her head and held them out to her mentor. “And that’s why…I mean, do you think they can be fixed?”

Kuwajima took the cloth from Nezuko and she felt herself watching carefully how the old man handled the earrings, like they might turn to dust with one wrong move. She was grateful that he never tried to pinch or move them with his fingers but rather used his palms under the cloth so as to not damage the fragile paper. His pinprick eyes lingered on them for a few more moments before folding the cloth delicately over them again and handing them back to her.

“Yeah, I think I know someone who can fix them.”

Nezuko perked up at that. “Really? Who?”

Kuwajima reached into the wooden box he kept nearby and retrieved some paper as he picked up his brush. “A couple of associates have owed me a favor for some time now. I’ll ask them and see if she can restore them.” He began writing a few characters, but paused and looked up at Nezuko. “That would mean you would have to send them off to be repaired. It could be a couple of months or even longer. Is that okay?”

Her hand clutched the fabric a little tighter, and she had to remind herself not to crumple what was folded inside of them.

This might be your only opportunity…

Don’t you want to fix one of the few things your brother values most in his life?

She unfolded the cloth again, taking in the crumpled and ruined paper. “They’ll be careful, right?”

Kuwajima nodded. “Of course. I trust them and wouldn't have suggested them if it were anything to the contrary. You have my word.”

Nezuko trusted her mentor, and if he was vouching for whoever could fix them, then…

Nezuko would do this, not just for her brother’s sake, but to honor the memory of her family.

“Yeah, let’s do it.”

A few days later, when Nezuko got back from another sparring session from the lightning field, Kuwajima informed her that he received a response and that the person he asked (a woman who was associated with the Demon Slayers named Akane Kimura) could fix the earrings. That same night, she surrendered her family’s precious earrings to the old man and prayed that she would see them again in better condition.

Dear Tanjiro,

I think I’m finally starting to become good friends with Zenitsu.

He worries me sometimes…

Nezuko thought Zenitsu was a bit strange.

He was always very loud and jumpy whenever they met up, and at times would try to get out of training with the claim that he “was going to lose miserably to her” despite winning every single match. He would then go on to complain and despair about how he wasn’t helping at all whenever they took small breaks or couldn’t answer questions Nezuko had about how he did certain moves. She tried not to get annoyed or too overwhelmed by the mood swings and negativity he would throw her way, but even she had to admit there were times she was very close to snapping at him.

Then there were times he would act like he forgot what they were doing in the first place, spacing out as though his mind were lost in another place. He did this every once in a while when she would come in the mornings, staring at her like it was his first time seeing her or not even remembering that they would meet up at that time to train.

(Some days, after Zenitsu had beaten her, he would just stand still, unmoving for a few minutes as Nezuko got her bearings back. Even after she would get up and call his name, he would remain where he last struck her, eyes closed, expression stony and almost angry.

No dramatic screaming, no plethora of apologies, no concerned questions about if he hurt her or not. He would stay there until he eventually walked away, fast and sudden enough that she couldn’t keep up with him.

The only clue she could find about what may have been causing those episodes was that the shutdown only happened when he had been fighting with his eyes closed. His behavior kind of reminded her of sleepwalking, but that couldn’t be true…right?)

But the moments that Nezuko enjoyed the most just so happened to be when they both agreed to take a break from training.

They would move away from the withered training grounds toward where more of the greenery of the orchard thrived and just did what they could to relax. Nezuko would bring her journal and go over the notes she took about her training, eventually doing some exercises to keep building up her strength or meditating to practice her breathing.

Meanwhile Zenitsu would stay nearby, wandering not too far from her. All the while, he would talk about anything and everything that would come to his mind. Sometimes he would pick flowers and bring them back to Nezuko, telling her about their significance or asking which ones were her favorites. Other times, he would point at the clouds and try to figure out what they looked like. Her favorite topics were whatever animal he could hear at the moment that even she couldn’t pick up on their sounds.

Nezuko couldn’t help but enjoy listening to him talk, especially after a particularly rough training session or when her frustrations started to fester in her mind like an angry hive of bees. When he got really excited about a flower he found or a nest of baby birds nearby, his excitement would blend into the sounds of nature around them, as though it belonged with the life thriving in the orchard.

It was a thought that made her both happy and sad for some reason, but she didn’t know why.

Nezuko got some of an answer one day when, while he was picking flowers and she was reading her journal, she asked him, “Are you related to Sensei?”

“Huh?” Zenitsu turned to her, frowning before realizing what she meant and looking away, stuttering. “Oh, uh, n-no, I uh, just call him Gramps. You must think that’s kind of weird, right?”

Nezuko put her journal down and smiled at him. “No, I actually think it’s kind of sweet. You must really care about him to think of him like family.”

The boy kept his attention on the bundle of white clover he was picking, but she managed to catch his face blushing a soft pink like when she first met him.

Cute.

Nezuko returned to her book.

The quiet between the two didn’t last long before Zenitsu was rambling again.

“I…didn’t know my parents, so I lived on the streets for most of my life. I fell in love with this nice girl, and when she said she needed money, I gave her everything I had and them some. She skipped town the next day, and I was left with a massive debt that I couldn’t pay the tax collectors.” He let out a humorless laugh. “I…probably deserved that for being stupid, since that wasn’t the first time I got tricked by a girl for money or free stuff.”

Nezuko stopped paying attention to the words on the page, feeling a sudden burst of anger at whatever girls thought to do terrible things to such a kind, innocent boy like Zenitsu. She found herself wishing she could give them a piece of their mind.

The least they could have done is be honest to him. He didn’t deserve that.

They didn’t deserve Zenitsu’s kindness.

Nezuko realized that Zenitsu had stopped talking, and when she looked up again, found him staring at her with big amber eyes and his face full of disbelief as if he heard what she was thinking. “Y-You don’t have to sound so angry about it. That was like forever ago! Besides, i-it happened a lot, so–”

“I don’t care!” Nezuko interrupted, shutting her journal a little harder than she meant to and sitting up. “They sounded horrible if they took advantage of you like that! They should know better, and you deserve better than them!”

Zenitsu’s jaw dropped and his face flushed a deep red that Nezuko didn’t know was possible. She could feel her own face heating up at the reaction as well as when she noticed how close the two of them had gotten when she was yelling.

Why am I acting like this? I was just telling the truth! He does deserve better.

So why are we being so weird about this?

Is this…No! Stop that! Just be normal, Nezuko!

Go back to the conversation and everything will be fine again!

They both must have realized this, putting a little distance between each other before going back to their respective activities.

“A-Anyways, Gramps found me and paid off my debt,” Zenitsu stammered, keeping his back to Nezuko and continuing to look for more clover. “I thought he was another scammer at first, but he said he just wanted another pupil to pass on his breathing style to, so I would become a demon slayer in return.”

“I-I see.” Nezuko wasn’t even bothering to read what was in front of her and was doing her best to rub the red off her bruning face. “So, you passed Final Selection, then? What was it like?”

“Oh, I uh, never made it to Final Selection.”

Nezuko paused, looking back at the boy again and not caring about the lingering blush. “Wait, you haven’t? Then are you still training too?”

“No, I–” Zenitsu stopped. He didn’t turn around, but something about him had changed. When he spoke again, something about his tone felt off. “No, I’m not training anymore.”

Now the girl was confused. “I thought you were going to become a demon slayer. What happened?”

No answer. The blond boy stood up, the clover he had collected slipping from his hand. “I can’t be a demon slayer anymore. That’s it.”

“But why? Did something happen between you and Sensei?” Nezuko got up and walked toward the boy, reaching out to touch his shoulder. “I’m sure whatever happened you two can work it out. Why don’t I tell him about you and–”

“NO!”

Nezuko jumped back and suddenly as fast as the wind, Zenitsu was right in front of her. She could see the blind panic in his eyes, different from his usual expressions from whining or bemoaning his existence. His hands were inches from her arms like he wanted to grab her but doing so would be painful for him (or her).

She wanted to step back and give herself space, but she felt trapped by the static energy surrounding the boy.

“You can’t tell him about me! Absolutely not!” Zenitsu’s hands curled into fists and his eyes darkened. “Not yet, I’m not ready for that yet. It’ll be really bad, like, like I don’t know, just bad for me and him and, and Kaigaku will–he’ll kill–” he groaned, digging his hands into his hair and pulling at the choppy strands and finally stumbling away from Nezuko.

“Crap, fuck, I’m sorry, I–”

“It’s fine! Please stop that!” Nezuko pleaded, completely out of depth about what she should do and decided to try and sound as reassuring as she could. “I won’t tell Sensei about you, okay? It’s fine, really!”

Zentisu didn’t respond, and just took deep breaths that sounded almost painful, like they were rattling his ribcage. He dug his fists into his eyes and curled into himself, like he was trying to protect his face. This went on for what felt like hours, until finally he took a long breath and sighed, removing his hands to reveal puffy, hazy eyes that stared at the grass in exhaustion.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “I…didn’t mean to ruin the mood. I should go.”

“No, you’re–” Nezuko didn’t get to finish as the boy walked off. She followed him a few steps, but stopped when she figured he probably needed some alone time. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

He paused, but kept walking a moment later.

She watched him until his yellow yukata disappeared into the shadows of the trees. Defeated and somewhat tired from whatever mood swing took over Zenitsu, Nezuko went to grab her journal to head back to Kuwajima’s.

She couldn’t help but feel sad when she saw that during the episode, Zenitsu had stepped on the white clover he had been collecting.

The next day, Nezuko met Zenitsu for training as usual.

She expected him to be like yesterday, but all he did was stare at her before squirming under her gaze. “Hey, why are you looking at me like that? You look like I was being mean to you or something. Wait…was I? Oh my god I’m sorry! I–”

“No! It’s fine, don’t worry,” Nezuko quickly assured the boy. She ignored the weird feeling in her gut and put on the most honest smile she could. “Sorry about that. Let’s just get to training, okay?”

He calmed down after that and they went on with training as normal.

She never brought up the day before again.

But something did stick in her mind.

Not once during the entire argument did she get any sort of strong emotions from him.

It was as though the blond boy had no aura, which had never happened to anyone Nezuko had met before.

It also made her realize that not once this entire time was Nezuko able to sense Zenitsu’s presence.

Almost as if…the boy was never there.

Dear Tanjiro,

I’m a little worried about Zenitsu.

Sensei wasn’t that much help, though…

It was another late night. Kuwajima was writing on one side of the main room while Nezuko was on the other, this time working on her pink kimono. She had finally managed to get the blood stains out, and was now refashioning it so it could be worn as a haori if she chose to.

As she worked, though, her interaction with Zenitsu kept replaying in her head. And how freaked out the boy got when she mentioned him meeting his mentor again. But the more she thought about it, she realized Kuwajima never mentioned anything about her being his only student.

Not to mention that woman in town asking about her brother, assuming that Nezuko was Kuwajima’s granddaughter…

“Kid, I can practically hear your thoughts from over here. If you have something on your mind, just say it.”

Nezuko jumped, her needle and the patch of fabric she had been working on slipping out of her hands. Her mentor hadn’t even looked up at her from his letter, but she could hear his fingers tapping against the wooden floor in the manner he usually reserved for when he wanted her to speak up.

And before she could help herself, Nezuko blurted out, “Have you trained anyone else before?”

“Hm?” Kuwajima’s brows furrowed, only pausing for a beat before going back to his work. “Of course. Have you forgotten about the idiot that sent you here?”

Oh, right, Kaigaku. Nezuko nearly forgot about the foul-mouthed swordsman. But realizing that this might still be her chance to learn a little more from the old man, she returned to her stitching before carefully asking another question. “But besides him…anyone else?”

Kuwajima didn’t answer. Nezuko chanced a glance at him, and saw him giving her a look that bordered on being a glare of boredom and his usual gruff expression. But it didn’t last long as he sighed and continued writing.

“There’s been one or two swordsmen who’ve passed through looking for a breathing style,” Kuwajima replied. “Granted, they didn’t stay longer than a week due to not feeling like the breath of thunder matched their style.” He paused, looking away for a moment before humming. “Actually, I think the longest someone stayed was about a month. She almost became my student, but decided to take the little bits she learned and turned it into her own breathing style. She’s doing quite well last I heard from her.”

“You can make your own breathing style?” Nezuko found herself asking with genuine curiosity.

Kuwajima nodded at her. “Remember when I mentioned that subcategories of breathing styles exist? Those usually come from swordsmen who adapted one of the main five into something more suited for their way of fighting.” He shrugged and began folding the paper he had been writing on into something smaller to transport. “But no, she never officially took up the breath of thunder, so you and Kaigaku are the only ones I’ve ever considered my official students.”

Nezuko nodded, frowning at her kimono. That still didn’t explain what happened to Zenitsu, or why the boy was hiding from the old man.

And then there was the fact that Kuwajima had to know something about Zenitsu. The blond spoke so much about the old man it had to be true.

So why was Kuwajima acting like Zenitsu never existed?

“It’ll be really bad, like, like I don’t know, just bad for me and him and, and Kaigaku will–he’ll kill–”

“Is this about that comment in town?”

Nezuko kept her head down, running her thumb over the new stitch she made near the hem. “Maybe?”

The old man sighed, and Nezuko sensed something frustrated coming from him. “I told you, they probably assumed it was Kaigaku. They see a lonely old man and decide to jump to conclusions about me having mystery grandchildren when I literally introduced you two as my wards.”

Nezuko looked up and opened her mouth, but stopped.

“You can’t tell him about me! Absolutely not!”

“Not yet, I’m not ready for that yet.”

“What? Is something wrong?”

It was on the tip of her tongue, and Nezuko was one second away from bringing up Zenitsu. But then she remembered the panic on his face and the way he spiraled unlike with his usual episodes. Like he was afraid of something terrible happening to him or the old man if she breathed a word of the blond’s existence.

But not just Kuwajima…

“–bad for me and him and, and Kaigaku will–he’ll kill–”

How did Kaigaku fit into all of this?

“Nezuko?”

“Never mind,” Nezuko finally whispered, turning back to her work. “Sorry, I guess…I was just curious.”

She felt Kuwajima’s gaze on her, like a hawk ready to descend with more questions, but eventually turned his attention away and didn’t say anything more.

It just became another forgotten conversation Nezuko would remember.

Three months had passed, and Nezuko pushed herself as hard as she could.

She worked her new muscles tirelessly in the fields, now able to swing her sword with enough strength to cut through thicker targets and deflect anything coming her way with reflexes that had been sharpened to a point.

She honed her breathing skills to the best of her ability, practicing until her lungs begged for her normal method, but finding that happening less and less.

She continued reading late into the night until she had nearly all information about the thunder breathing forms memorized, even if she was still struggling to perform them against another opponent.

And she kept up her running, doing the obstacle course early in the morning and late in the evening, both before and after training with Zenitsu.

Out of all of her training, Nezuko was certain that was taking up the most amount of her energy. It left her with aching calves and blisters on her feet that made it painful to walk on unless she wrapped them. But she could feel how strong her legs had become, much more muscular than when she initially started, how her lunging speed and strength had greatly improved.

And yet, three months before Final Selection, she started noticing how hard it was to even do that now.

Her feet were hurting even more than usual, her ankles aching like she was running with the rocks she usually tied to them for certain training exercises. Her head would get weird and floaty after the first ten laps of any run, and she was activating traps that she learned to dodge in her first few weeks of training. And now her abdomen started to burn as though a vine with thorns was wrapping itself around her intestines and squeezing every time she tried to put on a burst of speed or breathe deeper.

She couldn’t understand why this was happening now, of all times when she needed to get better before it was too late for Tanjiro.

No, she HAD to be better as soon as possible. And that meant running more. And practicing more. And reading more. And–

A wire snapped.

A rope trap snagged her left ankle, and Nezuko shifted to easily cut the dumb trap before it tightened, but the floaty feeling flooded her head and stole her balance. The ground disappeared and Nezuko swung blindly as she lost control of her body. She heard the rope snap, but not before a sharp pain erupted in her ankle and another trap launched a rock that threw her until a nearby tree.

Pain hammered into the back of her skull, and Nezuko blacked out.

Dear Tanjiro,

That frustration you felt about not being able to go to town that day,

I’m sorry I didn’t understand it until now…

“So what’s this about you overworking your body to the point that you’re passing out?”

Nezuko didn’t say anything. She kept her head down and played with a loose thread on her futon’s blanket. A cup of water that she had been slowly sipping from was in her other hand.

“Kid, I found you passed out in the middle of the track. Do you know how hard it was for me to carry you back here and then run to get the doctor to make sure you weren’t dying of some shit I didn’t know about? I’m not as young as I used to be, so a little more warning next time would be helpful!”

“I’m sorry, sir,” Nezuko whispered. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”

There wasn’t much she could say in her defense. She was pretty sure if she had found her mentor passed out, she would have panicked and berated the old man for hiding something that may not have been healthy. So the least she could do was sit through his lecture about health while the same doctor that looked over her brother months ago examined her.

The good news was her ankle wasn’t broken or badly sprained, but would need to be left alone for a little bit to heal. And she only had a mild concussion from getting knocked into the tree, so as long as she monitored herself for the next twenty-four hours, she would be okay.

The bad news was…well, everything else going wrong with her body.

Kuwajima pressed her to be honest about everything that had been bothering her, so Nezuko spilled to the old man and doctor about the dizzy spells, constant leg cramps and blisters, and overall aches in her body. And after answering more questions about what she had been doing recently, she found herself admitting to the extra training sessions she had been pushing on herself everyday for the past three months.

The doctor deduced that it was a combination of muscle fatigue, dehydration, and just overworking her body in general. The treatment: lots of rest and water.

Not really what Nezuko wanted to hear, but she didn’t question it at the moment. And when the doctor had finally left, Kuwajima laid into her.

“Look kid, I get you don’t have a lot of time, but this kind of behavior is destructive and will hurt you in the long run.” Kuwajima sighed and rubbed his eyes in exhaustion as though he had been the one running himself to death. “I don’t want you thinking that this is proper training every time you go out on a mission. I set limits on what you should and shouldn’t do for a reason. Everything I’ve taught you is set to the maximum of what I believe your body can handle, so doing more than that will only hurt you, and look at where that’s landed you.”

Her ankle throbbed despite the painkillers she was given beneath the bandages. Her blisters burned like mini sparks on the bottoms of her feet. Her arms and legs ache like lava, bubbling and hot but formless.

Nezuko wanted to go back to reading from her journal or practicing her breathing.

But what she really wanted to do was sleep for the next twenty-four hours.

“No training for a month.”

…Oh.

“WHAT?!” Nezuko tried to stand, but a hand pushed her down and took her cup before she spilled it on herself. “No way! I only have a few months left a-and I still haven’t struck the lightning bolt yet and–”

“You won’t be able to do any of that if you keep passing out and ignoring the VERY obvious signals your body is throwing your way,” Kuwajima said firmly. He set her cup aside and fixed a harsh glare at her. “I won’t have you treating yourself this way if you choose to go down this path, end of story. You can pick up on your reading after a week or so, but no physical training or whatever else you’ve been doing while you’re out during the day.”

“B-But–”

“And no running! I’ll know if you’ve been sneaking out to the track, trust me. And if I do catch, I’m adding another month to your bedrest. Got it?”

Nezuko wanted to argue more, but under the old man’s stern face, the fight left her. She couldn’t muster up the energy to go against her sensei’s orders, especially after today. She slumped down and nodded.

What else can I do?

Nothing.

A hand patted her head before getting up and leaving her be. “Rest up. You might not believe it, but you deserve a break after everything you’ve been through to get here.”

The door closed behind him, leaving Nezuko alone. She curled up under the covers, not yet falling asleep and doing her best not to cry despite how much her eyes burned.

Because there was one thing Kuwajima said that Nezuko agreed with.

And it was that she didn’t believe him for a second.

For the entire first week, Nezuko stayed indoors under Kuwajima’s watchful eye.

He made sure she ate, drank plenty of water, got more than enough sleep, and only did the bare minimum of work around the house while resting her feet.

But the entire time, Nezuko didn’t feel any sort of relief.

She just wanted to get back to training, to being productive toward her goal again, and now it just felt like she was going to lose all of the progress she had been building up by sitting around and doing nothing.

Kuwajima had assured her that although she may be a little rusty when starting up again, her body wouldn’t just magically forget everything it had been practicing before the break.

But an entire month of not being able to touch a sword or run…

In some ways, Nezuko felt like she had already failed.

Dear Tanjiro,

I wish you could have met Zenitsu.

I really appreciate him…

“NEZUKOOOO! YOU’RE STILL HERE!”

After her week of house arrest, Kuwajima finally gave Nezuko permission to leave with the lingering threat of not doing anything strenuous other than reading. She appreciated that he at least let her walk around the orchard as long as she was back by sunset.

And as she wandered through the fields, she realized she never gave Zenitsu a heads-up about her situation. So she went straight to the lightning fields and found him waiting like always.

“Where have you been?” Zenitsu scampered up to her, his big honey brown eyes noticing the wooden crutch she was using to keep weight off her ankle. “What happened to your foot? Were you attacked? Oh gods, was it Gramps’s training? I knew it! That crazy old man is trying to kill his students! No one would believe me! Wait, no, it was only Gramps that wouldn’t believe me. I still think–”

“Zenitsu, I just got injured running. That’s all,” Nezuko cut him off. She rubbed her face and tried not to let her anxiety or frustration show too much on her face. “Sorry, just…I can’t train for a month. So we can’t do anything productive anymore. I…I’m sorry I couldn’t let you know sooner.”

The boy’s rambling stopped. He stared at her almost owlishly before frowning and speaking softer than he usually did. “You sound sad and frustrated. Are you okay?”

No, I’m not…

Before Nezuko could even formulate a response, a sob broke out and she found herself crying into her hands.

“Ah! I-It’s okay! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you!” Zenitsu hovered around the girl in a panic, his arms moving in aborted attempts to comfort her without touching. “W-What happened? Can I help? I’ll help this time, honest! Just-Just tell me what’s wrong!”

“Everything’s wrong!”

Zenitsu stopped stuttering and gave her a confused look. And Nezuko took that as her cue to let everything out to the strange boy in front of her.

“I feel stupid, like I can’t do anything right!” Nezuko sniffled and wiped her eyes even as they kept replacing the tears she was trying to get rid of. “I just want to look after my brother, and now because of some stupid test, he’s going die! He’s all I have left and I…I should know what I’m doing, but nothing’s working. And when I try to put more effort into even that, I make stupid mistakes that cost me valuable time. I just…I just…”

I just feel useless.

Like how she couldn’t help her family when they had been attacked. How she failed to get her brother to snap out of his demonic mindset before he decided that taking his own life was better than living. How she barely got Kaigaku to spare Tanjiro before hurting her brother. How she was so close to dying at the hands of a demon that Tanjiro had to step in and nearly die fighting for his life.

Every single time, she failed to protect the ones she cared about, and this was her one chance to return the favor after everything Tanjiro did for her. And because of her own dumb decisions and injury, Nezuko couldn’t even do that.

Two months. She essentially had two months to figure everything out and that was it; Tanjiro’s fate was as good as sealed.

At times like these, she couldn’t help but wonder how Tanjiro would have fared if their roles were reversed. Would he be in the same predicament as her? No, he would have figured something out by now. He would have succeeded where she failed.

Sometimes, she wondered if things would have been better if he went down the mountain instead. Maybe things would have been better if she were the one that had been turned–

“Don’t think like that! That’s dumb!”

The firm, slightly whiny tone in Zenitsu’s voice tore Nezuko from her thoughts. He looked like he was trying to put on a confident face, but at the same time was worried about her saying something back. He swallowed hard and took a deep breath before scrunching his eyes and clenching his fists at his sides.

“Y-You shouldn’t think that way about yourself! It’s okay to sulk about things for a while, but they happen for a reason! You’re here now, and you’ve done better than I think a lot of people would assume you would, so be happy about that! I know it seems bad right now, a-and like everything’s against you, but one thing I learned is that always running away and giving up changes nothing. You have to try, and you did, and I think that’s super awesome! I know you’ll get it eventually, but don’t let your mistakes hold you back! Because someone as strong and pretty and kind as you deserves to know that I will always believe in you! Got it?”

Nezuko felt the crutch nearly slip from her arm, her jaw hanging open and her eyes burning from more tears. She had to cover her mouth with a hand to prevent her ugly sobbing from spilling out even more than it already had.

No one…besides maybe her brother and her parents, spoke to her with such strong confidence about her abilities and confidence before. It felt overwhelming, like this was way over the top and not something to be said to someone like…well, like her before.

As the second eldest child, Nezuko was used to filling in the gaps when her family needed her to, so the burden on her older brother and younger siblings would be that much less heavy to bear. Disappearing and small acts of kindness going unrecognized were fine by her, something she got used to over the years if it meant her family could be happy.

But this level of praise and belief in her…

“I know you’re going to do great things one day.”

It made something inside her ache and felt more comforted than it did before.

“Uh, can I show you something?” Zenitsu asked timidly, shuffling off to the side and pointing away from their usual training spot. He had stood in silence while Nezuko had collected herself, and finally spoke when it seemed as though her emotions were back under control.

Nezuko nodded, still sniffling and her breath catching in her throat. The boy didn’t make any comment about it and led the way.

They walked for a while, but it was only after a few minutes that Nezuko realized that they weren’t going to one of the areas the two of them usually frequented on their training breaks. In fact, as she started paying more attention to her surroundings and not on making sure she didn’t burst into tears again, the part of the orchard they were in was…unfamiliar.

“What is this place?” Nezuko asked, wiping her puffy eyes.

The boy stopped and turned to her with a gentle smile. “My favorite place.”

Nezuko caught up to the boy and gasped.

It looked almost like a meadow, with spring green grass and all sorts of flowers growing in splashes of color. Butterflies flirted from one plant to the next, dancing with the birds singing from the trees surrounding the secret area. Dappled shadows danced across the edges, and the smell of nature and something sweet like honey lingered.

It looked like something straight out of the books her father used to read to her and her siblings. Something that could only exist in a dream.

“It’s beautiful,” Nezuko breathed. How did she never know about this place?

As if reading her mind, Zenitsu chirped, “Oh, uh, it’s a little farther away from where Gramps made me do a lot of my training. I’ve tried running away a few times, and once I got lost and found this place. So I go here sometimes when I’m trying to hide, but Gramps always managed to find me.” He smiled, more relaxed and at peace than Nezuko had seen him her entire time knowing him. “I like it here a lot, so I thought you might too.”

Nezuko nodded, giving the boy her own watery smile. “I do, I really do. Thank you, Zenitsu.”

The boy laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head and blushing. “Yeah, sure, no problem! Uh, do you want to just sit down? I can show some cool stuff here.”

Nezuko giggled, uncaring if her face was still red from the earlier bout of crying (Or was she blushing too? It didn’t seem important at the moment). “Yeah, I’d love to.”

And for the first time since coming to the orchard, Nezuko didn’t think once about training.

The next few weeks actually began to pass by fairly quickly after that.

Nezuko would still leave at her normal time to meet Zenitsu and the two of them would spend the day in the little hidden area of the orchard. It would be much like when they took breaks for training in the past, but rather than reading or meditating, Nezuko found herself joining the blond boy in picking flowers and cloud watching and exploring the beautiful nature growing around them.

During their time together, Nezuko couldn’t help but notice how happy and carefree Zenitsu acted compared to when she interacted with him in the past. He still had his moments of stuttering and mini-freak outs, but they could be resolved much quicker. It was in the more peaceful moments when the two of them were comparing the flowers they had picked and whatever interesting trinkets they could find on the grounds that Nezuko was grateful for her friendship with the boy.

Granted, there were still days that Nezuko felt antsy and still wished to go running or pick up her sword again. There was still the threat of what would come in the next few months, the worries and intrusive thoughts about failing lingering in the back of her head.

It was a looming storm that would build over time once she got back to work, but with healthy distractions from the boy and his excitement over the small, innocent wonders he found, Nezuko allowed herself this small bit of time to relax. Because if she spent all her time worrying about events she had yet to control, she would never heal properly in time. She would be lost in her own short-comings, shackled by her failures and regrets.

Nezuko didn’t want that, not when she came to the realization that her obsession with training would have resulted in her never knowing that this little secret paradise existed. And she was certain that would have been one of the biggest regrets of her life.

So she spent her time laying in the grass and watching the clouds slowly crawl across the endless blue above her while Zenitsu filled the silence with his rare bits of optimism and joy about whatever was on his mind.

Despite everything, these would come to be the most cherished weeks of her time here.

Dear Tanjiro,

Sensei had a talk with me today.

I think I finally figured it out…

It was only a few days before Nezuko could go back to training when things finally began to fall into place.

The girl had been walking back from another meeting with Zenitsu, the sky gaining a pinkish-orange tint as evening slowly crept its way past the horizon. Her journal was tucked under her worn sleeve, her mind buzzing with the advice the blond boy had given her earlier about how to look at her breathing when fighting.

But something was missing, something she just wasn’t able to see just yet. It was right there, obscured by a fog she couldn’t see through yet. She needed to know what was being left out. What was it?

“You’re back a little earlier than usual.”

Nezuko stopped, grateful that her ankle had fully healed and the sudden movement didn’t bring any twinges of pain like before. She was surprised to find Kuwajima lounging under the shade of a tree, his cane propped up against the smooth bark and a peach in his hand. Usually the older man rarely left the house unless to help tend to the orchard or with her training from the prior year.

“I just wanted to head to bed a little earlier, that’s all,” Nezuko said, changing directions and walking over to her mentor. “I know you want me to rest as much as I can before going back to training.”

The old man raised an eyebrow and chuckled. “Wow, and here I thought you would be sneaking out and I would have to keep dragging you back inside to rest. Am I actually witnessing you taking care of yourself?”

“Hey, I listen!” Nezuko argued without any real heat. She sat next to Kuwajima and set her journal off to the side. “Excuse me if I do things at my own pace. I have a lot going on, give me a break!”

The old man laughed, shaking his head with mirth. “I guess I can’t argue with that too much. At least you’re willing to listen to reason.” He grabbed another peach and handed it to Nezuko, which she gratefully accepted and took an immediate bite out of when she realized how hungry she was. “I’m just glad you’re in a better place now.”

“Me too,” Nezuko mumbled around her bite of peach. The itch in her muscles was still there, ready and eager to get back into the swing of things, but the urgency to do so was not as strong as it was a month ago. And she found herself okay with that for the time being. “All I need now is to figure out how to use the forms better.”

“Still struggling with that, eh?” Kuwajima took a bite out of his half-eaten peach, taking a moment to chew and swallow before answering. “Yeah, I understand that. Believe it or not, that’s one of the hardest parts of this training. Sounds simple enough when said out loud, but compared to other sword forms, it’s more about adapting a uniform technique into something new.”

Nezuko paused mid-bite, turning to the old man. “What does that mean? Like, it’s all the same move?”

“Not exactly. Sometimes it takes a while for people to notice, but the moves are not meant to be a bunch of wild tricks, different from one another.” The man gestured with his hand, balling it into a fist and then spreading his fingers out like they were trying to separate from his palm. “They build off of the four main components of what makes the breathing form, well, the breathing form and branch off by changing to address whatever obstacle may hinder them. We talked about the basics early on, remember?”

Nezuko nodded. Her mentor had gone over how thunder breathing was supported by four factors the individual could manipulate: how the initial stance was taken, the lunge forward, the drawing of the katana, and how much leg power went into the attack. They were something she constantly needed to be thinking about while she was facing her opponents, especially in regards to gauging her stamina and what she could still accomplish in the heat of a battle.

Kuwajima continued. “Well, in all honesty, that’s what goes into the basic form of the technique. It’s not like you’re starting from scratch every time you go to draw your sword. It’s just part of one move being repeatedly used and tweaked.”

“One move…” Nezuko whispered to herself, staring at her peach and watching the nectar drip from the exposed fruit.

One move being repeatedly used and tweaked…

Her mind went back to her fights with Zenitsu, at how the blond boy was always able to parry and dodge her attacks before delivering one of his own. She felt like she was always having to think several steps ahead, planning out her attack and how she was going to cycle through the motions. But Zenitsu acted as though his movements were second nature, something thought-through and quickly fixed no matter what position he was in.

Position…

Wait a minute.

She never noticed it before, but now, finally relaxed and sitting next to her mentor as he reexplained a concept she thought she had understood the first time, a certain moment became crystal clear.

Nezuko attempted to lung forward and deliver five slashes at Zentisu, but he jumped back at the last minute, lingering only a second before sliding a foot back, unsheathing his wooden sword, and lunging right at Nezuko.

She lost her balance a bit from the missed attack, and was barely able to sidestep the lightning fast attack, only for the boy to pivot at her former spot and materialize right in front of her. She yelped and he knocked her sword out of her hard as thunder boomed in the background, leaving her hand tingling.

“Crap! Sorry sorry!” Zenitsu squeaked. He shook his head, thankfully in one of his good headspaces today, and took a step back to give her space. “I didn’t take your hand off, did I?”

“No, you’re fine,” Nezuko shook her hand out to get the feeling of bugs crawling under her skin to go away. “I can’t believe I didn’t see that coming. You’re really good at this!”

The boy shook his head and turned away. “I-I don’t know about that. I mean, I’m just doing the same thing every time. That's all I can do, and sometimes I think even you do it better than me.”

The same thing every time…

Nezuko’s eyes widened.

That move…this whole time, she was never paying attention to what he meant by that, and just assumed he was referring to the way he set up his move. But no, it was the move itself.

More specifically…

“The first form.”

Kuwajima smiled. “Now you get it.”

Nezuko stood up, still clutching her peach and turned toward the older man. “The other forms are just different versions of the first form! They’re not set-up any differently, it’s just changing how the final attack is delivered!”

“Exactly,” the man said, nodding. “Which means if you master one–”

“I can do all of them without needing to waste time.” Nezuko finished.

Now everything was making more sense. The second form and sixth forms involved adding extra strikes once the user reached their target. The third had the user stopping and creating a spin attack. The fourth was just going back and forth to keep distance from the target, and the fifth had an upward strike.

They all weren’t just separate ideas; they were connected, built up in one move and making it work against any situation she was up against.

“Wow I…can’t believe I missed that.”

Kuwajima chuckled, having finished his peach and was left with a small pit. He moved over a little and began digging a small hole in the dark soil. “It’s hard to understand it unless you take a step back. Besides, the real strength comes from when you’re able to utilize total concentration breathing with them.”

Nezuko joined him once again, taking another bite out of her peach as she watched him work. There was a strong sweetness to it that lingered on her tongue. “Oh yeah, I remember.”

Earlier that day, Nezuko had asked Zenitsu about total concentration breathing while they were weaving flowers into small crowns. The boy was smiling to himself as he worked, and for once, he didn’t stutter around an answer or whine about it being difficult to explain.

“Gramps said it’s supposed to make your blood circulate faster, and that’s because your heart’s beating faster. It heats up your body temperature and gives you a huge boost of strength to kill demons.” The boy frowned, then grimaced as he tied some of the thicker stems together. “That’s why you’re supposed to focus on your breathing a lot, to expand your lung capacity and get your blood and bones and muscles excited to fight.”

Nezuko carefully finished weaving in her flowers, lifting up her crown of white clover and dandelions with a few pink peach tree petals tucked in. “That doesn’t really make sense.”

“I know, right?!” Zenitsu groaned, putting his crown of different colored wildflowers on his head. He looked cute despite being very clearly annoyed. “There’s no way that’s true! I think it’s a cruel joke from Gramps that’s supposed to make us think breathing is this big complicated task when it’s not. It’s just dumb!”

“I guess all I can do at this point is keep trying until I see if it works,” Nezuko mused, following Zenitsu’s lead and putting her own crown on. The boy beamed at her, and the two dissolved into giggles as the sweet air blew by, scattering petals and their joy into the wind.

“Oi, what are you smiling at?”

Nezuko blinked and realized she had been staring at her nearly finished peach for a while. She felt Kuwajima’s stare on her, prompting the girl to quickly finish the rest of the fruit and wipe her face of any lingering juices dripping (and definitely not checking if there was blush creeping on her face again).

“Uh, it was nothing, sir! Just…thinking about what you said.”

“Nothing I say should be electing that kind of reaction from you,” Kuwajima replied flatly. “Well, either way, it’s not going to be easy, so don’t be thinking that you can slack off your training because of that.”

“I won’t!” Nezuko retorted. She looked down at her peach pit, and suddenly felt a pit of her own grow in her stomach. “I know it won’t be easy. And I might not make it, but I have to try.”

Because that was all she could do at this point, right? That itself was easier said than done, and in all honesty, it wasn’t helping the barely contained anxiety from beginning to creep its way back into her head.

Two months…it really wasn’t a lot of time, and as much as the break was appreciated, she kept praying for some miracle to give her a little more time. That would never happen, not now and with everything, but it didn’t hurt to still hope a bit.

And maybe it was better than letting her fears get the better of her and drive her to fall into the despair she felt when she was burning out and injuring her foot.

“Nothing says you have to be sufficient in every form, you know.”

Nezuko looked back up at Kuwajima. “I don’t?”

He shook his head, then held out his hand. Assuming he wanted her peach pit, Nezuko handed the small seed over and watched as her mentor dug another hole next to his.

“A seed doesn’t just burst from the ground overnight as a tree; it needs time and nurturing so it can sprout. And from there, you continue to care for it until it grows bigger, eventually turning into a tree. From there, it will grow leaves, then flowers, and then bear fruit.” Kuwajima placed the pit in the small hole and then smoothed soil over it with ease. “But only judging a tree’s worth by whether or not it can grow flowers or fruit from the moment it bursts from the ground is idiotic. Some trees can’t grow them right away, but that doesn't mean they don’t have the potential to grow later.”

Kuwajima finished smoothing over the soil, Nezuko watching closely in silent awe. He then gave her one of his signature sharp grins. “Don’t despair if you can’t learn everything all at once, no one expects perfection. Celebrate the little things, like sprouting from the surface or perfecting one form. Mastering even just one thing can make a world of a difference, and is worth any person with common sense’s approval.”

Nezuko stared at the dirt mounds, imagining them growing into large peach tries despite the odds against them and their survival. Like her, they had everything against them, and not a lot to be gained from someone praising their tiny bits of growth.

But that didn’t mean it wasn’t worth celebrating, now did it?

Nezuko found herself laughing and sitting back on her knees. “What happened to not teaching me anything else?” she teased, smirking.

The grin dropped and the old man rolled his eyes. “I was going to let you struggle with it a little longer, but I figured you've put yourself through the wringer enough. Besides, sometimes we just need a bit of new perspective to reach a full understanding. If I can give you that little nudge to see that, then why should I be holding anything back?”

“Y-You just needed a bit of perspective, you know? I’m sure you would have figured it out.”

Huh…interesting.

“Come, let’s head inside before it gets too dark.” Kuwajima patted her shoulder before getting up and offering the girl a hand. Nezuko took it and followed her mentor, but kept thinking back to the peach seeds buried in the dirt.

Perhaps all she really needed was a bit more perspective.

Two months before Final Selection, Nezuko went back to training.

Kuwajima warned her to start small and slowly work her way back up to her former strength, and not wanting to take any more risks, Nezuko listened. She gradually started adding more exercises to her workout, and increased her running by one or two laps every day. It was rough, and a little despairing at how she wasn’t able to bounce back like she hoped, but progress was still progress, and her mentor’s words from that night kept coming back to her: there was nothing wrong with celebrating the little things.

And when Nezuko decided she was finally ready to start sparring again with Zenitsu, she only focused on perfecting the first form.

It wasn’t as though she stopped practicing the other five forms entirely; she just put almost all of her energy into working on the first form, and used it exclusively whe fighting Zenitsu. It helped that she was observing the boy’s movement more closely, recognizing patterns more easily in his fighting style and seeing the different ways of fighting she could adapt into form now that she wasn’t constantly trying to come up with new strategies on the spot against an opponent.

The strangest part about it had to be the limited complaints that came from Zenitsu.

The boy didn’t whine or try to convince Nezuko that they should take frequent breaks anymore. He wasn’t being closed off like some of those other times, and still made sure to ask Nezuko if she was okay when taking a particularly hard hit. Something about him was just…different.

Almost like he sensed the importance of Nezuko’s time and where it needed to go. Like he understood what needed to get done and would do whatever it took to help the girl reach her goal.

Nezuko couldn’t have been more grateful.

Dear Tanjiro,

I hope one day you get to meet Zenitsu.

Maybe not now, but maybe another time…

Nezuko and Zenitsu laid on the soft grass of the hidden section of the orchard. The sound of insects singing and trees whispering surrounded them as they stared up at the sky, alit with hundreds of stars. It was a peaceful, cool night where they were just talking like they did at the beginning of Nezuko’s injury recovery.

It just so happened that they were talking about Kuwajima.

“It took me forever to figure out that he had really good hearing and that’s why he was able to fight me blindfolded.” Nezuko rubbed her elbow and winced at the memory, remembering the pain from falling down constantly. “It didn’t help that I never got that good at falling.”

Zenitsu hummed. “Yeah, one time he made me run with rocks tied around my ankles for like five hours. It was torture, and I could barely walk afterwards, but he still made me help him pick peaches from the tallest tress. I fell through the branches a lot and almost landed on my head several times.”

“Oh I remember the ankle rocks. He has me use those for lunging training.”

“Ugh, I think that might actually be worse. How did you not break your ankles earlier?”

“I didn’t break them and I was literally running myself ragged, so I think we can excuse Sensei on that.”

“Alright, if you say so, Nezuko.”

The two lapsed into silence after that. Nezuko had her eyes closed, taking in the sounds and smells surrounding them. It was a peace that she knew wouldn’t last long, one that she might not get to experience again depending on how Final Selection went. She wanted to cherish this time as much as she could, with the people she cared about most.

And tonight, that was Zenitsu.

“You know, I never really understood Gramps.” The blond boy pillowed his head on his hands as he spoke. “He was always hitting me with his cane and yelling at me to do my best when I literally had no talent. I don’t get what he saw in me, but he was always really nice and didn’t give up on me, even when I tried running away.”

“I think that’s just the way he cares about people.” Nezuko folded her hands over her stomach, taking a moment to open her eyes and trace over the hundreds of little lights above them despite not knowing any of the constellations. “I always get a bit of a sense that he does want what’s best for us, and he seems happy whenever we succeed.”

Zenitsu smiled. “Yeah, I think you’re right. I can always hear a happy sound coming from him when I finally did something right in training, or when I don’t run away immediately after he explains how painful something is going to be.”

Nezuko tilted her head a little and observed how at peace the normally anxiety-ridden boy was. His amber eyes almost seemed to glow in the moonlight. Everything about him felt right and content for once, and it felt wrong to ruin it.

But she still had a question she needed him to answer.

“Hey, can I ask you something?”

Zenitsu glanced at her, then looked back up at the night sky. “Sure.”

She waited a few moments, figuring out what words to use to avoid him having a negative reaction like the first time or just shutting down. But eventually, Nezuko mustered up the courage to turn her head and asked the boy her burning question. “How come Sensei never mentioned you before?”

The happiness vanished from his face, replaced with something that looked like fear and sadness.

“Oh, you don’t have to answer! Sorry, I didn’t mean to–”

“I think…I make him sad.”

The words died in Nezuko’s throat. “What?”

Something steeled over Zenitsu’s expression, but he didn’t seem angry or bothered like last time. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, moving his hands so they laid on either side of him. “I think Gramps doesn’t like getting attached, and when he does, it hurts when something happens to us.”

What does that mean? He makes it sound like something bad happened to him.

“What…happened?”

Zenitsu shook his head. “Some bad stuff happened and…I think he blames himself.”

Nezuko frowned, not sure whether or not she should push to learn more. But then the boy tilted his head to the side so she couldn’t see his expression. When he spoke, it was more subdued than she was used to and would have never imagined it belonging to such a lively and emotional personal like Zenitsu.

“It wasn’t Gramps’s fault, I don’t think it was anyone’s really. I mean, I was being reckless and just wanted to protect my family. I tried to convince them to leave us alone, so that the three of us could just stay safe and out of their way, but they…wanted something, and weren’t leaving without it. I think…they got what they wanted.”

The three of us…

Could he mean…

“Is Kaigaku okay?”

Nezuko startled at that, hardly believing her ears. “You know him?”

Zenitsu didn’t answer, but then started talking again like he hadn’t heard her. “He always sounded angry, like, he had this box of happiness inside him that kept leaking and he didn’t know how to fix it. I kind of hated him, because he never treated me like I was a human being. And he hated me right back, but…I didn’t want him to die, or to do something bad.”

“Bad?” Nezuko found herself echoing. “Bad like what?”

Another bout of silence. Zenitsu just shook his head and turned back to stare up above, his expression neutral and his eyes closed.

“I just can’t see Gramps anymore. That’s just the way things are now. And nothing can change that.”

Nezuko wanted to argue with the boy. That surely he could see Kuwajima and get proven wrong in the form of a few choice words and maybe a tap of the old man’s cane. She didn’t need to hear the Kuwajima admit to knowing the boy to be certain that Zenitsu would be welcomed back with open arms to an old man that hid his affection for his students behind a stern glare and slightly crazed enthusiasm.

She wished more than anything in that moment to just understand why it seemed this family would remain broken when its heart and soul was right laying next to her.

“Nezuko, when you come back from Final Selection, I don’t think I’m going to be here anymore.”

…Huh?

That alarmed the girl and she tried not to let it show on her face as she sat up. “What are you talking about? Are you leaving?”

“Maybe? I don’t know.” Zenitsu opened his eyes, pain and grief and other emotions she couldn’t understand at the moment swimming in their glassy sheen. “I think I just know. I won’t be here anymore, and I’ll miss you guys so much.”

Nezuko shook her head. “B-But why?”

Zenitsu stared up at the sky, and his voice shook as he failed at keeping his tone even. “Because I’ll have no reason to stay here anymore, and then I’ll wake up, and…I don’t want to wake up, not this time.”

He threw an arm over his face, using his sleeve to wipe away his tears as his shoulders started to shake. Nezuko couldn’t help but feel how different this was from the Zenitsu she knew. This one, this boy at her side, desperately trying not to fall apart and scared of something it seemed even he didn’t fully understand, was so young. And there was a great pain that he must be suffering from, and would continue to suffer from.

This wasn’t fair. Not fair for someone like Zenitsu.

“Zenitsu?” Nezuko called softly. The boy lowered his arm and peered up at her through puffy eyes. “Zenitsu, please, can I...is there anything I can do?”

Zenitsu’s eyes widened, and more tears gathered as he opened and closed his mouth, unsure of what to say for a second.

“Can I…” the boy trailed off, staring at her hand buried in the grass before flickering away, clenching the material of his yukata tight enough that she had a passing worry about it ripping.

“Do you want to hold my hand?” Nezuko asked gently, using the voice she reserved for when her younger siblings would cry and needed a hug. Sometimes, even for Tanjiro on particularly stressful days when memories would bubble to the surface and she’d find him barefooted in the snow.

Zenitsu gave a tiny, hesitant nod, and Nezuko laid back down. She extended her hand as far as it could go on the cool grass, and watched as the blond boy slowly reached for it, only to stop inches before their hands touched.

She wanted to say something, to encourage him to bridge the distance, but a part of her knew the truth, even if she refused to fully believe it that night. And it was that this was as far as Zenitsu could go, and there was nothing that could change it.

So Zenitsu turned his gaze back to the beautiful starry night sky, and Nezuko followed his lead, not one of them breathing another word for the rest of the night.

Nezuko didn’t even say anything when he started sniffling and eventually crying in a way that was so soft and vulnerable that it differed from his usual overly dramatic antics.

She just did her best to hold back her own tears and imagined that she was holding Zenitsu’s hand.

Maybe, in another life, they had meant something to each other.

But here and now, Zenitsu Agatsuma would forever be the boy whose hand was just out of her reach.

Dear Tanjiro,

I did it.

I finally did it…

Both Nezuko and Zenitsu faced each other at the withered lightning field. The gray sky above them rumbled forebodingly, as though sensing the weight of the duel about to take place.

After two long years of training, sparring, and learning everything she could on thunder breathing, Nezuko was ready. She knew she was ready, and all she had to do was beat Zenitsu one time.

Only this time, even from her distance away from him, Nezuko could see that Zenitsu’s sword was real.

A dry wind blew past them, blowing strands of Nezuko’s now waist length hair away from her face and brushing Zenitsu’s bangs so they revealed his closed eyes.

Like mirror images of each other, both thunder breathers gripped their swords and slid their left foot out. Nezuko bent her right knee the exact moment Zenitsu did, and they drew a bit of their katanas out of their sheaths so their silver and gold patterns could just be made visible.

All was quiet, and no one moved.

Nezuko breathed in deeply, allowing the oxygen to flow through her body to every cell and vein. Strength that she didn’t know existed within her flooded the muscles in her arms and legs. She felt stronger, ready to spring like a predator against another and win.

Because this time, she was going to win.

Silence…

Silence…

Silence…

And–

BOOM

There was a flash of pink and yellow, and the match was over in an instant.

Nezuko stood where Zentisu had been and swiftly sheathed her sword. Her entire right arm felt tingly and numb while her lungs screamed, leaving her gasping for breath.

She turned around.

Zenitsu stood still, only halfway to where Nezuko had been standing previously. His hand was empty, his sword several feet behind him buried in the hard dirt and standing out like a glowing beacon in the field of nothing.

Nezuko had managed to knock Zenitsu’s sword right out of his hand before he could even swing it, and won.

Slowly, he stood up to his full height, his empty hand clenching into a shaky fist before relaxing by his side and faced Nezuko.

There were no tears, no baffled expressions on his face, not even the slightest trace of anger. There was only a warm look of pride in his eyes and a melancholy smile.

For some reason, it made Nezuko want to cry.

“Hey, Nezuko?”

She forced a shuddering breath through her lungs. “Y-Yeah?”

Zenitsu nodded at her, taking a step back and never losing that smile. “Don’t hesitate to strike, okay? That jerk has nothing on you, so be sure to win. I believe in you, Nezuko.”

BOOM

A strike of lightning hit between the two of them, blinding Nezuko and forcing her to stumble back. When she was able to open her eyes, Zenitsu was gone.

And so was his sword.

She barely had the chance to question where they had gone when her eyes caught what was on the ground where said sword had been. She gasped and felt her own blade slip from her fingers.

At the point where Zenitsu’s blade had dug into the hard black ground, a white pattern exploded forward, resembling a tree being blown by a strong wind.

It was a white lichtenberg figure exploding out in one direction, as something, or someone, had deflected a bolt of lightning and controlled where it hit the ground.

“Holy shit.”

Nezuko whirled around to find Kuwajima staring at the spot where Zenitsu’s sword had been and the white markings on the ground. He ambled forward a bit quicker than his usual pace and stopped right by Nezuko, eyes wide in just as much disbelief as they had when she told him about drop-kicking the demon head all that time ago.

“Young lady…you did it.”

Nezuko blinked, still gasping slightly and her arm feeling jittery. “Wait I…Does that mean–”

“Yes.” Kuwajima chuckled, which quickly evolved into a hearty laughter that rang strong throughout the lightning field. “Yes, yes you’re ready for Final Selection!”

I did it….

I DID IT!

Nezuko found herself joining her mentor in his boisterous laughter, happiness and exhaustion and excitement running through her like high she never experienced before. 

It was amazing, it was so freaking amazing! 

It…It…

It left her suddenly sobbing on her knees, Kuwajima holding her tightly as she wailed, confused by all of the emotions running through her but so happy she finally succeeded.

Two years…After two years, she managed the impossible. And it made everything worth it, all of it.

“I believe in you, Nezuko.”

Almost everything.

“I’ll admit, I was a little worried at one point,” Kuwajima rumbled, rubbing Nezuko’s back and not caring that her tears were staining his jinbei. “But look at you now, you made it. I’m so proud of you, kid.”

Nezuko could only nod, too overwhelmed to voice any promises of coming back and not letting everything she learned go to waste. But her mentor seemed to understand just what she wanted to say and lightly bonked the top of her head.

“You better come back, you hear me kid? Because if you die, then I’m going to drag you out of the afterlife myself just to beat you with my cane. This old man can’t take any more losses.”

Chapter Text

The night before Nezuko was set to leave for Final Selection felt exciting and anxiety-inducing all wrapped up in a slowly growing energy that different than she was used to. It was unique compared to the highs she would get from training, and even more so from the culmination of emotions that overwhelmed her when she finally passed Kuwajima’s test.

Maybe because this would be a completely different kind of danger she would be participating in. One where there would be consequences.

She knew that things would be fine, but it was hard to connect that thought with the million others that were whispering in her head about how hard it was going to be and that there was a very high chance of her dying.

But she couldn’t afford to think that way, not now when fears would only hold her back and hinder any hope of seeing to the end of the next week.

But thankfully, her mentor was good at keeping her distracted and in high-spirits.

They celebrated with hotpot and fresh peaches, as it was a “grand occasion to commemorate her efforts,” according to Kuwajima. Throughout the night, the old man regaled Nezuko with stories about his Final Selection (and even a few mentions of Kaigaku’s of all people), pausing to answer any questions she had about the exam and advising her on what she should and shouldn’t do during her time there.

Nezuko barely even realized how much she was learning, and hearing the assurances of her mentor along with his praises of everything she had overcome to get to this point soothed many of her worries, at least for the time being. She was grateful for the distraction and positive atmosphere, leaving her more ready to take on this one last challenge in her wager with Kaigaku.

Which meant starting to take those first steps in getting ready for the event. 

So once dinner had concluded and Kuwajima stepped out of the room to take care of something, Nezuko set about the task of cutting her hair.

She hadn’t done anything with it for the past two years, leaving it to grow back to the length it had been before it had been sliced up to her shoulders.

At the moment, she was using a pair of shears to cut the ends to rid herself of the split-ends and tangled knots that couldn’t be salvaged. From there, she was still trying to decide what else she was going to do with it.

A part of her thought about just keeping it in her usual buns since she never had any problems with it in the past. Plus, it basically guaranteed that none of her hair would fly into her face and leave her blinded in the heat of battle.

But in all honesty, she wasn’t too crazy about that. That represented the Nezuko who lived on the mountain with her family, happy and carefree and content to live a simple life without any pain or the hardships of a swordsman.

That Nezuko no longer existed, hardened by training and now with a new purpose in life. And she wanted her look to represent that.

But it wasn’t like she could just leave her hair down. Part of the reason Nezuko started putting her hair up when she was younger was because of how often it would get tangled and pulled whenever she played with her siblings or walked down paths that had lots of branches. 

And for a job where she would be constantly moving around? Even she knew that it would only lead to unnecessary problems that would make her job harder. The only reason she never had any problems up until now was because of how short her hair had been cut after her encounter with Kaigaku on the mountain.

Maybe cutting it back to the length it was during her training? That seemed to be the most reasonable thing she could do. Little to no problems in battle and only needing minimal care outside of work.

But still…it didn’t seem like something she would like. She loved her long hair, and it was something she put a lot of time and effort into growing as she got older. Even if she didn’t want to be exactly like she was before that night two years ago, it still felt important to her.

That made sense, right?

What am I saying? Nezuko scolded herself, shaking her head. I’m fighting demons! I shouldn’t be worried about trying to look pretty while doing it.

Just do what will make things easiest for you.

So, cutting it short seemed to be the best answer.

Nezuko gathered all her and tied it loosely over her shoulder, prepared to cut the rest of it off when Kuwajima came back into the main room with a bundle tucked under his arm.

The two locked eyes. Nezuko waited, the blades of the shears hovering over her ponytail like the jaws of an animal ready to snap down. She wasn’t sure why she was hesitating, like she was waiting for the old man to approve her action.

Kuwajima seemed to be sharing the same thought. “Well? Don’t let me stop you. I’m not in charge of what you do with your hair.”

That affirmation should have pushed her to close the blades. But her hand wouldn’t move, frozen in indecision that was starting to sour the good mood she had been in earlier.

It’s just hair! Just cut it! It’s not a big deal!

But her hand refused to listen to her.

She groaned and was at least able to move her arm away from her long strands, setting the tool down in her lap. She glared at the tool as though it were offending her. Of all things, I’m getting mad at a pair of shears. Ugh! Dumb!

Kuwajima made the way over to her and sat across from her. “It looks like you’re having doubts. And you’re about to force yourself to do something you don’t want to do, hm?”

“I…need to do what will help me fight best,” Nezuko said, but she felt her tone didn’t reflect that as much as she wanted it to.

Kuwajima picked up on that as well. “True, but it doesn’t mean taking away everything that makes you unique.”

Nezuko frowned, playing with the ends of her hair. She wasn’t thoroughly convinced. “Still…”

“Well, think of it like this; if your brother were a demon slayer, do you think he should be fighting without those family heirloom earrings?”

Nezuko whipped her head up at the old man. “What? No! Those are important to him, and given by our father! He loves them so much, taking them off–”

“Would limit anything getting in his face,” Kuwajima said, pretending to be deep in thought and rubbing his chin. “Those long dangly papers would certainly be a distraction if he were fighting in a windy environment. Not to mention they could easily get caught on something if he were running through trees and other foliage.”

“But they mean a lot to him!” Nezuko argued. “He’s proud of them, and taking them away would be like taking something vital to who…he…is…”

Oh.

“Mama, I hope my hair gets really long and pretty like yours when I get older!” Little Nezuko tapped her fingers happily from where she was sitting on the floor. 

Kie chuckled softly as she brushed Nezuko’s hair, her fingers gently separating the strands. “I’m sure it will, Nezuko. Just be patient and be sure to take good care of it, alright?”

“Yes!” Nezuko squealed. There was some tugging, and when her mother’s fingers were no longer in her hair, she knew they were done. “Let me see! Let me see, Mama!”

Kie helped Nezuko turn around and handed her a small mirror. The little girl gasped in delight when she saw the simple bun her hair had been tied into.

It was perfect!

“I love it! I love it!” Nezuko flung her tiny arms around her mother. “Thank you, Mama! I look just like you now!”

Kie’s eyes widened in surprise. It slowly became a soft smile, one with so many emotions that Nezuko barely knew the names of at such a young age. But she sensed pride, joy, and love.

So much love.

Kie returned the embrace just as tight. “Oh Nezuko, I can’t wait to see the beautiful young lady you’ll grow up to be.”

Oh.

“Maybe you have a point.” Nezuko whispered, her fingers trailing through the dark strands, lost in thought and memories.

Because it was the hair her mother helped her take care of until it got long enough for Nezuko to explore what she wanted to do with it, wanting to be just like her.

It was the hair that she would let Hanako, and even Takeo, Shigeru, and Rokuta at times, play with, teaching them how to braid it and hearing their giggles and shrieks of joy when they finally got it right.

It was the hair that she would let down sometimes when her older brother was exhausted, letting him lean on her shoulder and be pillowed by her soft locks.

It meant a lot to her, and Nezuko didn’t think she was ready to let go of it yet.

Kuwajima chuckled. “Don’t feel like you have to sacrifice everything that makes you you just for practicality. If it means a lot to you, find a way to make it work. Lots of swordsmen do, so it’s not like you’d be in that boat alone. I mean, just look at Kaigaku.”

Nezuko hummed, getting an idea and playing around with the strands until they were separated. “Why does he wear those pendants? Do they mean anything?”

“Not quite sure.” Kuwajima grunted. “Most I got out of that idiot was that they belonged to him when he was younger. Said they were supposed to be a reminder for him, of what I don’t know and doubt I ever will.”

Makes sense, considering how prickly his attitude seemed, Nezuko mused, slowly weaving her hair into the beginnings of a braid. Maybe, this was the way to go, something easy enough to do.

There was one other idea she had…

“Nezuko?”

“Hm?”

“As much as I wish this could wait until later, there is something we need to discuss now.”

Nezuko paused, turning back toward the old man and getting a slight shiver at the serious expression on his face.

“Okay,” She said, taking out the braid and the tie her hair was in. She shook it out and let her locks fall down her back like usual. “What is it?”

The bundle Kuwajima had brought with him was set to the side, his fingers lingering on the white fabric before resting his hands on his lap. “It’s about Final Selection. I know that I’ve been telling you how the event will go and what it’s like but me explaining this stuff to you is vastly different than you actually experiencing it.”

“I know that,” Nezuko assured her mentor. She did her best not to squirm too much under the intensity of his gaze and hoped she wasn’t coming off as too naive about her own confidence. “It’s going to be difficult, and…I might not come back.”

But she would. She had to. There was so much at stake, and doing this was her final step in proving to herself that she could be there for Tanjiro.

So that’s what she focused on rather than the fact that this would be the greatest obstacle she would ever have to conquer. It was all she could do, and she was going to follow through on her word.

“Yes, it will be dangerous, and I do have faith that you have a good chance of succeeding,” Kuwajima continued. His finger started tapping his knee in rapid staccato like he would on his cane. “But you need to remember that the point of this test is to see if you are able to survive in a demon-infested environment on your own. This isn’t about how many demons you can kill or picking off the strongest ones. It’s only about your survival and making it to the end of the week, that’s it.”

Nezuko nodded, feeling bit of relief at his words. It at the very least made the test seem less daunting than before, knowing that she wouldn’t be required to kill a demon to pass. Not having that as a priority would definitely increase her chances of returning.

Besides, a part of her was still a little wary about the idea of actually killing. She knew she had to, eventually, but right now…that wasn’t something she was ready for yet.

Just don’t think about it yet. You’ll be ready for that later, just not right now.

“So, with that in mind, I need you to promise me that when you go into the exam, no matter what happens, you will only think of yourself and your own survival.”

Nezuko blinked, tilting her head to the side in confusion. “Uh, okay? Why–?”

“Because I know you,” Kuwajima interrupted her, “and although I trust you not to go chasing after demons or antagonizing them into a fight, I know you will if someone is in trouble.”

Nezuko felt her heart stop. “Huh?”

The old man pointed at Nezuko, specifically just above her chest. “You have a good heart, kid, and as much as it has helped to shape you into a kind person, you often let it speak for yourself over your head and sometimes even logic. It’s the reason why you couldn’t kill that demon when we first met, and why you blindly defended your brother before knowing all the details about his condition when he first turned.”

Nezuko straightened and tried not to let his words sting or offend her “I-I’m not going to protect other demons if I know they killed and ate other people–”

Kuwajima cut her off. “Good to know, but I’m referring to the fact that people will die in this exam, and if you happen to run into someone who’s in trouble, I’m telling you to leave them and save yourself.”

WHAT?

No, this had to be some cruel joke her mentor was playing on her. There was no way Kuwajima was outright telling her to abandon people who were in trouble.

That couldn’t be what the demon slayers stood for.

The outrage must have been obvious on her face, because Kuwajima sighed and ran a hand down his face. “Nezuko–”

“Why?” Nezuko didn’t care that she was interrupting her mentor. She felt her hands tightening into fists and couldn’t keep the building anger out of her voice. “That’s ridiculous! Of course I’m going to help someone if they’re in trouble!”

“If you would just let me explain–”

“No! This isn’t right! That isn’t fair to ask! I thought the whole point of becoming a demon slayer was to protect people who were in trouble, including our comrades. I-I know we’re not getting graded on how and if we help anyone, but turning our backs on them if they need help? That’s just selfish!”

“Exactly.”

“No–I, wait what?”

Again, Kuwajima pointed to where Nezuko’s heart was. “You’re right, it’s a selfish way to think and of course no one in the field should be leaving their fellow slayers behind should they be in trouble and about to be killed if something can be done. The fact that you have the heart and kindness to think that way says a lot about your character. But the fact of the matter is, no one in that exam is going to be thinking like that, like you .”

“What do you mean?” Nezuko asked, her voice quieter than it had been when she was ranting.

“Everyone is going to be thinking of themselves, what they can do to survive,” Kuwajima went on. “One of the other main points of Final Selection is to weed out the weak from the strong, who can actually hold their own against demons should they run into one because that will happen. People who can’t defend themselves, and don’t have the necessary basic skills to protect others shouldn’t be doing this job. Because regardless of their effort, they will get themselves and innocent people killed.”

Nezuko wanted to argue with the old man, but she couldn’t think of anything she could say to change his mind. Not when barely two years ago, the old man told her the exact same thing about her hesitation and lacking in any remarkable strength.

If she had gone to Final Selection in that condition, barely able to protect herself, she would have failed and died.

And Tanjiro would be dead.

“It’s not fair,” Nezuko whispered, keeping her gaze on the wooden floorboards.

Kuwajima’s gaze softened into something more sympathetic. “I know, and I’m sorry I’m asking so much of you. But it’s just the way things are. Some people try to take this exam far before they’re ready, or think more highly of themselves than others despite their lacking qualities, so we have this test to truly see who’s worthy of becoming a swordsman or woman. I’m not telling you this to be cruel.”

“I know.” Nezuko picked on a loose thread on her gray sleeve.

“All I want is for you to prioritize your own safety just this one time, alright?” Kuwajima laid a hand on her head, reminiscent of where he used to hit her with his cane. “Make sure you make it out of this in one piece, for your brother’s sake. Promise me, okay?”

Nezuko didn’t want to, not when she was being asked to go against something that had been ingrained into her very nature. It felt like she was going back on everything her parents, her brothers and sister taught her. And she hated it so much.

But Kuwajima was right; she could potentially be risking her own safety and chances of coming back by trying to protect others against the demons.

Even if she didn’t agree with him, the old man had a point. If she wanted to uphold her end of the wager, then it was in her best interest to listen to him.

“Okay, I will.”

“I want to hear you say it.”

“I promise…I will focus only on myself.”

The words felt wrong, leaving a bad taste in her mouth, but she would just have to grin and bear it for the week. Hopefully it wouldn’t be a mistake.

“Good,” Kuwajima said, patting her head in a gentler manner than the girl was used to. With that matter settled, the old man reached over and retrieved the white bundle he had brought in earlier. “Now, I was originally going to give this to you tomorrow morning before you left, but this night shouldn’t be ending on a sour note.”

“What’s that?” Nezuko asked, taking the offered bundle.

“What you’ll be wearing for the Final Selection.” Kuwajima explained, smiling fondly at the girl. “This is an important milestone for you in becoming a demon slayer, and as much as you shouldn’t be worrying about how you look, it’s a symbol of how you’ve overcome all of that hellish training to get this far. Consider it my graduating gift to you.”

She held up the bundle, watching as the fabric unraveled fully into a white kimono decorated with a dark gold triangle pattern. It wasn’t new, considering how worn and slightly faded the white cloth was, but the gold still held a bit of a glow, reflecting the light of the fire.

The pattern also matched the yukata she had been wearing for the past two years, as well as her mentor’s and Zenitsu’s kimonos.

“This is for me?” Nezuko held the fabric closer and ran her fingers over the gold markings. “It’s beautiful. Are you sure–?”

“Yes,” Kuwajima said firmly, leaving no room for argument. “You’ve earned it. And hopefully, it will protect you while you’re away.”

Nezuko nodded, finally allowing herself a small smile. “Thank you, Sensei. I won’t let you down.”

Hopefully, everything her mentor told her that night would be true and lead to a positive outcome.

Dear Tanjiro,

I’m leaving for Final Selection today. If everything goes well, I should be back in seven days. So if you wake up before then, don’t worry, I’m okay.

I’m so close to keeping my word, and once I pass this exam, we’ll be safe. There’s so much I’ve learned these past few years, I can’t wait to tell you in person when you wake up.

Even if you never wake up again, I won’t leave you alone. I’ll protect you until I can figure out how to turn you back into a human again, no matter what.

I love you, Tanjiro. I love you so much, and I promise, I’m going to come back.

You can count on your little sister!

–Nezuko

P.S. Don’t worry, there’s still space for you to write if you do wake up. It will always be here if you need it.

The next morning, Nezuko was ready.

She dressed herself in her outfit for Final Selection, wearing her usual dark pants with her new white and gold patterned kimono. The blade she was borrowing for the exam rested at its rightful place at her hip (and nowhere else, because anywhere other than there was “stupid”).

And after much deliberation, Nezuko decided that for now, she would keep her hair long. It was fixed into a side braid that rested over her left shoulder, a good compromise in her opinion and something she could easily fix if it became too troublesome to manage during the week.

All in all, she was ready.

There was just one last thing to do.

“Hey Tanjiro, I’m leaving now,” Nezuko told her brother, kneeling by his futon. In the entirety of the two years, he still had yet to move, and at this point, Nezuko knew not to hope for a miracle.

But that didn’t make it any harder.

“It’ll just be for one week, so it won’t be forever, okay?” Nezuko smoothed back her brother’s unruly mane of hair and kissed his forehead. “I promise, I’ll come back for you. Goodbye.”

With that, Nezuko stood up and walked toward the door. She paused at the last minute, glancing over her shoulder at her still sleeping brother.

She waited, staring at his form for any tiny movements or noises.

She waited…

And waited…

And…

…

“I love you, Big Brother.”

And the door closed, casting the room into darkness for hopefully not the last time.

“Don’t worry about your brother, he’ll be fine.” Jigoro assured Nezuko at the doorway of the house. “I’ll make sure to keep an eye on him in case anything in his condition changes.”

The girl nodded, the sound of confidence and anxiety in her heart creating an interesting melody that only he could hear. “Thank you, sir! For everything, because honestly, I don’t think a lot of people would have helped me get this far.”

Jigoro laughed. “I’ll admit, there were a few times I was a bit worried, but you really managed to pull off all of that progress in just under two years. Consider me impressed.”

Nezuko beamed, and it filled a warmth in him the old man hadn’t felt in a long time.

The last time was probably…

“W-Wait, I did it? Seriously?”

“Yes Yes Yes! I saw it with my own eyes! You did it!”

“What?! No! No way, th-there must have been some kind of mistake!”

“Oi, you saying there’s something wrong with my eyesight? I may not be young and spry anymore, but I’m not that old!”

“Ah, Gramps! Don’t hit me again!”

“Then don’t call your master old!”

“…but I really did it?”

“Yes, my boy, you did. And who knows, someday you’ll be able to stand with Kai–”

No, stop that.

Now wasn’t the time.

“Ah, right,” Jigoro cleared his throat (and hoped the girl didn’t notice the slight pause in conversation). “Now, it’s about a day’s journey to get to the mountain, so it’s best to get going now. And remember, when the exam starts–”

“Head east since that’s where the sunlight will hit the ground first,” Nezuko said, ticking off each points on her fingers, “ration my food so I can eat least one meal a day, and only sleep during the day so I can focus on navigating during the night.”

“And?”

Nezuko paused, confused, then realized what he meant. She tightened her jaw and pressed her lips into a tight line before responding in a sullen tone. “I’ll only focus on myself and not get distracted with any of the other attendees and demons.”

Jigoro nodded, praying that the girl would heed his words despite how much he knew it would pain her. He hoped that at the bare minimum, they would remind her to take care of herself and not put her life at risk without thinking first.

It was an unsavory trend that tended to run strong in the Corps, and considering how the girl nearly pushed herself during training to the brink of a bad injury, he hoped he could at least guide her on a path of good judgment.

Not to mention the other reason why he made her make that promise…

Nezuko suddenly frowned, something flashing in her eyes and another anxiety being added to the symphony of stress. “And…Kaigaku?”

It took Jigoro a second to understand what she meant.

Ah, right. The wager that idiot set up.

He didn’t know what the exact parameters were of the little agreement his former and current students were involved in. But Jigoro knew that Kaigaku was (at the very least) a man of his word, and that he wouldn’t dare try anything with his former mentor guarding the demon.

Still, Jigoro would make sure he didn’t try anything underhanded after the girl worked so hard to keep up her end of the bargain.

“I’ll make sure he doesn’t do anything before Final Selection is over,” The old man decided. “Since it takes about a day at most to get there, we’ll wait until the morning after the seventh day before taking any sort of action.”

In other words, if you don’t come back before the sun rises on the eighth day, we’ll assume you didn’t survive.

And then your brother will be killed.

Judging by the nervous flicker on the girl’s face, she must have read between the lines. Her grip on her sword sheath tightened and a more serious expression came over her.

“Alright, sir.”

Nezuko gave one last bow and turned to leave. Jigoro couldn’t help but feel a little bad about leaving things on another low point. He frowned, racking his mind for some words of good luck and encouragement before she fully disappeared from view.

But that’s when he felt a phantom ache in the back of his head, rubbing the area and unintentionally causing a memory to surface.

“Hey brat, have I ever told you the story about how I survived Final Selection?”

“No, what difference does it make?”

“Well, Jigoro my rude yet lovely pupil, there’s this little tradition we thunder breathers have where before Final Selection, we give our trainees–”

Oh shit he almost forgot.

“Oi, wait a minute!”

Nezuko stopped and took a few hurried steps back to the old man. “What, did I forget something?”

“More like I did,” Jigoro muttered, reaching into his kimono and pulling out the peach he saved for her. He held it out to the girl who took it with a puzzled look. “Don’t eat it right away. Save it for when you need it.”

“But I thought I already had my rations.” Nezuko held the small fruit in her hands, looking back up at Jigoro. “Plus it might get squished or go bad–”

“It doesn’t matter when or what you use it for,” Jigoro waved the girl off. But he couldn’t help the nostalgic smile that peeked through as he stared at the peach. “It’s tradition that thunder breathing students take a peach with them to Final Selection. It’s supposed to be good luck, I think, as well as protection from evil.”

“Oh, okay.” The girl tucked the produce into her kimono. “Did you get one?”

“Oh yeah, my mentor gave me one and I almost didn’t take her up on the offer.” Jigoro chuckled at the memory of younger him desperately trying to leave without saying goodbye, and how that was only one of many times he did that. “But believe it or not, that peach saved my life.”

Nezuko whipped her gaze back up to him, her eyes wide and nearly popping out of her skull. “Wait really? How?”

Jigoro shrugged, and couldn’t help the smirk that slipped out. “I guess you’ll have to come back and hear the story yourself, hm?”

The girl looked like she wanted to argue, but a new determined sound settled over her. Her expression calmed and she smiled, much more battle ready than she had been moments prior.

“Then I guess I’ll be hearing about it next week, then.”

Atta girl.

“Now go!” Jigoro gave Nezuko a light shove, prompting her to start walking away. “You may be faster now, but it’s still going to take you a while to reach the mountain and the last thing you need is to miss the time you have to report for Final Selection!”

“Okay, I’m going!” The girl said, laughing and picking up her pace until she was fully running. “Take care, Sensei, and thank you so much!”

Jigoro waved after her, watching as she disappeared into the distance. Even with the small doubts and what-ifs lingering in his head, perhaps things would turn out okay with this one.

Just have confidence in her, Jigoro. You did everything you could.

Hopefully her future will turn out better than–

Nezuko stopped. She turned around, but was too far away for Jigoro to make out the look on her face.

Did she forget something?

“What?” Kuwajima called. “Is something the matter?”

Her head turned toward the path she had been taking, then off into the distance of the orchard, and finally back to Jigoro. Nezuko cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled.

“Tell Zenitsu I said thanks for everything!”

Jigoro stopped breathing.

WHAT?

Nezuko immediately continued running back down the main path. Jigoro couldn’t bring himself to say anything more to the girl as she slowly became smaller and ran farther away from the safety he had provided her for nearly two years.

Even when he couldn’t see her retreating form anymore, Jigoro stood at the doorway, and if it weren’t for his cane, the old man was pretty sure he would have fallen over by now.

Was this an omen? A sign that he was sending this girl to her death?

Was he about to fail his third student?

Jigoro didn’t know how to make sense of it.

And yet…that didn’t change the one question that was left burning in his mind, and that he knew he would be getting answers very soon that maybe, deep down, he didn’t want.

Nezuko…how do you know the name of that dead boy?

Nezuko spent the majority of her journey regretting her big mouth.

Why did I say that?! And after I told Zenitsu I wouldn’t say anything!

She just couldn’t hold the secret about the boy’s existence any longer. As much as she got the sense that something terrible had happened that caused Zenitsu to distance himself from Kuwajima, it didn’t feel right. She could tell from their conversations that the boy loved Kuwajima in a way that differed from how she cared about the old man, and desperately wanted to be reunited with him.

Not to mention the pain the separation must have been causing the her mentor. It had to be the reason why he never mentioned Zenitsu. But outright denying his existence, like the boy was a painful memory he was trying to forget, didn’t sit well.

Never would Nezuko trade forgetting for ease and less pain over her father’s passing. Her family made sure to celebrate his memory and carry on his legacy and kindness through sharing stories and comfort in each other.

And even now, with it being just her and her older brother, Nezuko would rather die than never speak of them again. 

So coupled with the fact that there was a chance that Nezuko may not come back (which was not going to happen, because she would pass and return) and that she wanted the old man to know what (or who) else had contributed to her success, Nezuko refused to keep up her silence.

She didn’t get a chance to see her mentor’s reaction. He was too far away for her to sense how his aura responded before continuing on her way. So she would have to come back and hope for the best (and possibly more of an explanation).

Nezuko just prayed that Zenitsu wouldn’t be too mad at her.

Wherever he was.

Thankfully, she didn’t have to dwell on those thoughts forever. After much running, Nezuko easily made it to the location of Final Selection just as night fell.

Upon arriving, the first thought that came to her head was that Mt. Fujikasane came straight out of a dream.

There were wisteria flowers everywhere, casting the area in an ethereal violet hue. There was also an aroma of sweetness that differed from the peach orchard lingering throughout the pathway at the base of the mountain. Though just like her home for the past two years, the flowers were blooming despite being out of season.

At this point, Nezuko didn’t even bat an eye at the oddity in the flowers. She simply took a small amount of time to admire their beauty before moving along the path and up the stone stairs.

She passed through a large wooden archway to a clearing where around twenty or so teenagers around her age gathered. A good amount of them looked up at her, some only giving her a quick glance while a few others continued to stare at her as though she were a strange oddity.

It took Nezuko a moment to realize that she was probably the only girl there.

I guess Sensei was right about women not joining the Corps often, Nezuko thought as she wandered forward, trying to ignore the pairs of eyes on her and the new anxiety worming its way in her stomach. It’s not like it matters. I just need to focus on myself and what I will do to survive.

She focused on that, as well as her mentor’s encouraging words from the very beginning. She put in the work and proved that she was ready, so it didn’t matter if she was the only girl.

Right, she could totally do this!

Too bad she was so caught up in her thoughts that she ran right into one of the attendees.

“Hey!” The teen, a boy wearing a purple yukata and his hair shaved into a mohawk, barked at her. He scowled as if she were offending him, highlighting the large ragged scar that ran across his cheek and the bridge of his nose.

He kind of reminded her of Kaigaku.

“Oh, I’m sor–”

“Watch it, bitch,” the scarred boy hissed, making a point to shoulder past her on his way to the front. The action caused Nezuko to stumble back and bump into a smaller body behind her, eliciting a soft squeak.

“Sorry, I’m sorry!” Nezuko actually managed to stammer out this time. She quickly moved to help the person and held out her hand. “Are you o–oh?”

She was actually surprised to see it was a small girl in a short floral kimono and navy blue yukata. Her hair just reached below her shoulders, and was covered in little white flowers that matched the design of her kimono.

How had I missed her?

Maybe it had been her size. She was a few inches shorter than Nezuko, with a stature that made it easy for her to imagine the girl getting blown away by the slightest breeze. But something told Nezuko not to let that assumption get the better of her.

A part of her had a feeling there was more to flower girl than meets the eye.

The girl remained unbothered by Nezuko’s silent analysis of her. She tilted her head to the side, dreamy cyan eyes peering up at Nezuko, before humming and getting to her feet without any assistance. She brushed the hem of her kimono before returning her gaze to Nezuko.

“Are you okay?” Nezuko asked, trying not to let herself get too frazzled or linger on the boy’s rude attitude. “Again, sorry about that.”

No answer. The girl just silently stared at Nezuko.

Even for her, it was getting a bit awkward.

“Uh, yeah,” Nezuko said, attempting to fill the chasm of silence that was growing. “I guess it’s nice to know that it’s not just us taking the exam, right? That there’s at least one other girl here?”

Still nothing. The flower girl continued to stare at her with a blank yet serene expression on her face as though lost in a pleasant daydream. One of her small hands drifted to the side of her head, adjusting a pink bead that was tied near the end of one of the long strands of hair framing her face. A matching one rested on the other side, and a closer look revealed a small flower rested inside each of them.

Figuring maybe that was a good topic, Nezuko pointed to the one the girl was fixing. “I like your beads. They’re really pretty.”

The girl’s eyes slowly followed her finger, her delicate hand caressing the bead gently and with care. She hummed, lowering her hand and looking back at Nezuko.

Suddenly, the flower girl’s eyes widened.

“What? Is something wrong?”

Without warning, the girl reached forward and tucked a stray strand of hair that had escaped Nezuko’s braid behind her ear.

“Better,” the girl murmured, nodding before turning and walking away.

Nezuko stared after her small form, her hand drifting to where the girl’s soft fingers had just barely grazed her face. Her cheeks warm a bit, and the anxiety in her gut morphed into something that left her feeling…more nervous? confused?

A tad bit weirded out?

It reminded her a bit of what it was like interacting with Zenitsu. But it was different. It was just…

Weird.

Is this…how people make friends?

A heavily calloused hand landed on Nezuko’s shoulder.

“It’s pretty insane, huh?”

Nezuko jumped, twisting toward a girl around her age with pretty lilac eyes and dark hair tied into two low buns. Tiny scars like freckles were scattered across her face, as though something had exploded right in front of her.

“I mean, apparently the wisteria here grows year round, and there’s so much of it that none of the demons inside can escape.” The girl took her hand back and crossed her arms, looking around with a beaming smile. “It’s kind of unreal, but awesome all the same.”

“I-I guess,” Nezuko decided on answering. Her eyes were drawn to the slightly shorter sleeves of the girl’s dark green kimono, pulled back by the way her arms were folded and giving Nezuko a peek at muscular forearms and red bead bracelets.

In a way, this girl was the complete opposite of the flower girl.

As if reading her mind, the muscular girl pointed to where said quiet girl had wandered over to. “You tried talking to her, just now?” 

Nezuko nodded dumbly, still a bit flabbergasted by how open she was to having a conversation compared to the other attendees gathered. Her new companion clicked her tongue. “I tried talking to her earlier, but she was quiet as a mouse. At least she reacted to some things I said. Everyone else either looked like they wanted to bite my head off or pretended I didn’t exist. Same with you, I guess?”

“Yeah,” Nezuko breathed, her gaze drifting to the side as she scanned the rest of the attendees. She stopped when they landed on a boy with bright yellow and red hair tied into a ponytail wearing a sunset kimono and dark hakama pants, hunched over himself. As though sensing her, his head lifted in her direction. His gold and red eyes had a slight sheen to them, something fearful resting in them before darting away.

Just looking at him, Nezuko could tell the kid was a bit younger than her. Maybe a little older than Takeo had been but definitely on the smaller side. With his bright hair and kimono, the kid definitely should have stood out the most of the group of attendees, and yet, like the flower girl, managed to dodge any attention from his corner.

There was something about him, though, that made her extremely worried.

What was someone like him doing here?

“Oh him?” The muscular girl followed Nezuko’s gaze on the boy. “Yeah, don’t know anything about him. He was one of the first one’s here, and basically stuttered around every word he said when I tried to talk to him. He might actually be one of the only normal ones here. Too bad, he’s probably not gonna make it.”

Nezuko frowned, eyeing the girl and not liking the way she was writing the boy off. “You know, he might do well.”

The girl chuckled dryly. “We’ll see, I guess.” She gave Nezuko a look she couldn't decipher, but then smiled with all the excitement of an overeager child. “Hopefully you’ll make it out of this alive, I actually like you!”

Nezuko didn’t even get the chance to formulate a response to that as the girl laughed and strode over to where the angry boy from earlier was. Though one glare from him sent her over to the other side quickly with her hands raised in mock surrender.

She was bold, Nezuko would give her that.

Maybe a little too bold.

Wait…was that how normal people were supposed to act?

I need to hang out with more people my age. 

She shook her head. Now wasn’t the time for that. She needed to focus! It was probably almost time for the exam to start, and she needed to be ready if she was going to survive. And only on her survival.

“Too bad, he’s probably not gonna make it.”

Nezuko turned back to where the flame-haired boy was hiding himself. She felt a bit bad for not saying more to his defense (and that she was essentially gossiping behind his back with someone else), but even from the distance between them, other than his appearance, there didn’t seem to be anything too spectacular about him.

She knew that not everyone was gonna make it out of the exam alive, but something about him was making her wish that he would be one of the lucky few to survive.

Again, as if he knew someone’s gaze was on him, the boy looked up and found Nezuko. Not really sure what else to do, Nezuko waved and gave her best smile. His eyes widened somewhat, flickering around the clearing as though to make sure she wasn’t addressing someone else before hesitantly pointing at himself. She nodded, giving the boy another small wave and mouthing “hi” even if he couldn’t hear her. He slowly returned the gesture, some of the fear in his eyes dimming and being replaced with a more natural shyness.

Maybe he just needs someone less intense to talk to.

Nezuko began to consider walking up and saying hello in-person when a sudden hush flowed over the group.

Nezuko instinctively looked toward the front and found at the foot of another set of stairs three girls clad in dark purple kimonos and with wisteria flowers in their shoulder-length hair. The two of them with black and white speckled hair and soft, seemingly pupil-less lavender eyes held lanterns. The third girl standing between the two of them had dark brown hair but more intense plum-red eyes, her hands folded in front of her.

Once the silence set across the clearing, the third girl stepped forward and bowed to the attendees. When she rose, she spoke just loud enough for the group to hear. “Good evening, everyone, and welcome to the Demon Slayer Corps Final Selection. We thank you for your interest in joining our cause and for your preparedness in taking part in this event.”

The girl on the left spoke next, her voice a bit deeper. “You will find that the mountain is covered halfway up by year-long blooming wisteria, which is deadly for demons. It is currently what protects us from the demons that live on this mountain.”

“But beyond this point, there will be no more wisteria flowers to stave off the demons,” the girl on the left then said, her voice at a slightly higher pitch than the other two. “On this mountain are many low-level demons that were captured by slayers and brought here, unable to escape. They have not eaten for a very long time, and will be targeting any human who crosses their paths as you make your way up.”

The girl in the middle continued. “In order to pass the exam, you must survive seven days on the mountain. Once you make it to the top, you will officially be named Demon Slayers.”

With that, all three of them bowed and spoke in unison. “We wish you the best of luck, and for all of your successes. Now, you may go and begin.”

When the girls rose, they moved to the sides, opening the path to continue up the mountain. Immediately, attendees began making their way past the archway and up the stairs to their destination. Some lingered back a little while others took their time, a few even running to be the first ones through.

Nezuko gripped her sword sheath tightly and took a deep breath.

This was it. No more running away or having someone to protect her. This was all up to her now.

I won’t let you down, Tanjiro.

I promise.

Nezuko steeled herself, and began making her way up the mountain.

Beyond the wisteria, the mountain was dark, filled with trees that towered above and cast oppressive shadows onto the ground. It was the perfect environment for demons to hide and attack any unsuspecting travelers who were unprepared for such monsters.

But that wasn’t going to stop Nezuko.

The girl ran east, focusing on the first important bit of advice her mentor gave her. It would make the journey upward easier, and allowed her to keep moving toward where the sun would hit first. Any chance at protection was not going to be wasted when survival was all that Nezuko needed to focus on.

Survive today, no matter what it takes.

Only focus on your survival today.

Nothing else matters, just survive.

Nezuko kept chanting that mantra in her head as she ran, barely even pausing when she would touch the ground or a nearby tree to sense out any nearby demons. She noticed how not once did her breathing pattern break nor did she tire easily, even after a few hours had passed. The old her would have stopped and needed a break, but now, this was nothing.

It was just like training, only instead of running in countless circles under calming peach trees, it was through a demon-infested mountain.

Speaking of which…

Nezuko touched the ground, and felt an unnatural presence nearby. She swiftly slid into the basic position of her breathing style, kicking up a small cloud of dirt. Her eyes darted around the ominous forest, trying to pinpoint the demon before it attacked first. When she couldn’t find anything, the girl closed her eyes and tried to focus on her hearing and what sounds were nearby.

A slight wind to her right…

Creaking bark behind her…

A branch breaking on her left!

THERE!

Nezuko ripped out her blade and held it defensively as a demon with a crazy expression and tattered clothes lunged out of the shadows at her. She tightened her stance and maneuvered so the ugly creature was thrown off, landing a small distance from her.

“Finally!” the demon shrieked with delight. “A weak human to eat! I’m starving!”

Don’t count on it.

The sound of leaves rustling and bark moaning broke her attention.

From behind!

Nezuko dove and rolled out of the way of another demon about to swipe at her back with sharp claws. It growled at her, ready to pounce, but was interrupted by the first demon suddenly attacking it.

“Bug off! This is my kill! I found her first!”

“Screw you! This is my area and anything here belongs to me.”

The demons continued to bicker and fight each other, ignoring Nezuko. She took this as her chance to properly sheathe and grip her blade, returning to her original stance. Her hand trembled minutely, and a bead of sweat rolled down her forehead.

Calm down, you got this.

Remember your training, what you learned.

Don’t forget who’s waiting for you back home.

“Hey, what’s she doing?”

“Who cares! I’m going to kill her first!”

Both demons turned their attention back to Nezuko and went to attack her. Nezuko took a deep breath, filling her lungs with as much air as possible.

Total Concentration Breathing…

Her thumb flicked the beginning of the blade out.

Thunder Breathing, First Form: Thunderclap and Flash!

Nezuko drew her blade and lunged at the two demons with breakneck speed. There was a flash of yellow light and cries of pain as she slashed at them with near perfect precision and landed behind them. She sheathed her blade and breathed out, panting and looking behind her.

The first demon had its upper torso separated from its waist, while the other one had its knees removed from the rest of its legs.

I aimed too low! I completely missed their necks!

“Hey! What the hell!”

“My legs! Are you kidding me! Get back here you brat!”

Nezuko didn’t bother, quickly getting to her feet and running away. She ignored their screaming and goading until their voices faded to nothing but distant echoes in the darkness.

She mentally berated herself for not being able to defeat the two demons. It should have been a clean shot with the way the two of them were running at her. And it wasn’t like this was the first time she used a breathing technique on another “person” before. So why was this different?

Was it because she was about to kill–

Nezuko stopped running, skidding to a halt and catching her breath as though the adrenaline from before had drained all of her energy.

I was about to kill two demons…

I was about to kill something for the first time…

…So why does it still feel wrong?

Her mixed feelings on the matter from the night before came back to her. She had been unsure then, but now…it still felt wrong.

It shouldn’t! Not when she knew based on the arguing between the two demons that she wouldn't have been their first kill. She had it explained and hammered into her head over and over again that any demon that harmed, killed, or ate a human being needed to die. It was the necessary action to take when she ran into future demons as a slayer, and she understood that with crystal clarity.

So why was she still hesitating?

Nezuko’s hand drifted to her chest, her fingers resting where her rapid beating heart lay beneath her chest.

Was it…because a part of her still refused to take life?

Or did she still believe that she couldn’t destroy the last bit of a demon’s humanity by ending its life?

…Maybe it was a cruel combination of both.

Stop it! Nezuko scolded herself, shaking her head and gripping the white and gold fabric of her kimono tightly. You just need to focus on moving forward.

Besides, Sensei told you not to go chasing after demons and to only worry about your own survival. So stop dwelling on whether you should or shouldn’t kill a demon that attacks you. Just defend yourself!

Yeah, that made sense. Focus on her own survival and whatever it may take to get there.

She could address not going for the kill later. Hopefully that wouldn’t come back to bite her.

Nezuko nodded to herself, more assured than she had been a few minutes prior. She calmed her heartbeat with a few deep breaths, and moved to advance further up the mountain.

That’s when she heard the screaming.

“Master Kuwajima?”

An old man stared at the fallen trees, the deep grooves in the ground where the demon attack had taken place just within the peach orchard.

Demon slayers and kakushi milled around, doing whatever damage control they could, hoping to learn about the demons that had attacked.

Demons never attacked in groups. So why here? Now?

Why them?

“Lady Hisa can’t get him to talk, and she doesn’t want to touch him in case he has a negative reaction.” A girl with a diamond-studded headband gestured to where a dark-haired teenager was still on the ground, a beautiful woman kneeling with and attempting to talk to him despite his silence. “Do you think–?”

“Y-Yes, just leave us for a few minutes. Thank you, Uzui.”

The girl nodded, walking back over to the two and saying something. The woman locked eyes with the man as she got up, sorrow and sympathy in her gaze. She turned to the teen and said one more thing to him, adjusting her white flower-printed haori and gently knocking one of the pink beads tied near the end of her hair. She and the younger girl then left to where a majority of the slayers had gathered.

The old man approached him, finally focusing his hearing and picking up on the thundering heartbeat within the dark-haired teen. His head was bowed, staring at the ground.

And yet, despite the damage done to the area and evidence of powerful, possibly twelve kizuki demons having been present, there was not an ounce of damage on the teen. His uniform was in near perfect condition and there was barely an ounce of dirt on him. Not even a single scratch or bruise to be found.

“You need to tell me what happened.”

The teen didn’t move, didn’t flinch. Just shook his head ever so slightly, his hands which laid limp in his lap trembling.

“Kaigaku, what happened?”

Because the old man needed to know. He had to find a way to make sense of this mess and why one of his students was like this, shaken and silent, while the other was…

“He’s gone,” the teenager croaked.

“What?”

No…Please no…

Gods don’t let it be true, not that boy…

The teen slowly lifted his hands, shivering like he had been the first time the old man had found him on the streets, dying from hunger and sickness. Back then, he had been covered in layers of dirt and cuts, a telltale sign of a child that had been raised on the streets and had little to no chance of a good future. So the old man gave him one, and hoped that the boy at the time would use it wisely.

The palms, and only the soft underside, of the dark-haired teen’s hands now were covered in dried blood.

“What did you do?”

He refused to lift his head, staring almost trance-like at his hands. When he spoke again, his voice was barely above a broken whisper.

“They took him…It was supposed to be me.”

Run away!

Run away!

Don’t get yourself into trouble!

Against her better judgment, Nezuko ignored her more rational thoughts and bolted toward the sound. It was coming from the direction she had been about to take, and didn’t waste another second tracking down the source and the demon that was most likely attacking.

Not once had the cries stopped, loud enough that everyone on the mountain had to be hearing them. But it didn’t sound as though any help was coming nor that anyone cared.

Though, if Kuwajima was right, that was a natural response and whoever was being attacked was going to–

The screaming stopped. There was a loud cackle.

“Aw, you think someone’s going to help you? Think again, brat! You’re going to die alone!”

Nezuko burst into a small clearing, seeing a large demon with two long blades growing out of each forearm standing over a boy curled on the ground. The remains of a broken blade laid in pieces off to the side.

The kid’s head jerked toward her, blood dripping down a long scratch on his forehead. Gold and red eyes filled with tears stared back at her, silently pleading.

Help him! Save him now!

Her hand gripped her sword and she lunged just as the demon noticed her presence and swung one bladed appendage at her.

Thunder Breathing First Form: Thunderclap and Flash!

Both arms went sailing into the air, causing the demon to stumble back and screech from pain. Nezuko planted herself right in front of the boy, keeping herself poised to attack again should she need to.

“Leave now,” Nezuko growled, mustering as much confidence in her tone as she could and fixing the monster with an angry glare.

The demon hissed, “Who are you getting in the way of my kill! It’s not like he’s going to last long here anyways! He’ll die by the time that demon finds and rips him to pieces while he’s still breathing!”

The boy whimpered behind her, a scared innocent sound.

“I SAID LEAVE IF YOU STILL WANT TO KEEP YOUR HEAD!” Nezuko shrieked with all the fury she had. For good measure, she began drawing her blade out again and widened her stance. Fear flashed across the demon’s face and it began stumbling away from the two, blood still dripping in rivers from its missing arms.

Only once it had vanished into the night did Nezuko relax herself and put her sword away. She took a moment to compose herself before turning to the boy, now seeing that it definitely was the flame-haired boy from earlier.

“Are you alright?” Nezuko asked, scanning him for other injuries. There weren’t any other visible injuries she could find, so she took that as a good sign. “Did the demon hurt you anywhere else?”

The boy didn’t respond to her. His fiery gaze rested a little off to the side on the ground, eyes wide and breathing heavily. Nezuko followed his gaze and found it resting on the metal shards of what must have been his blade.

Oh.

The blade was a lost cause.

Which meant the boy had lost his only way of defending himself on the first day of the exam.

“I’m gonna die,” The boy whispered in a near-hysterical whisper. His breathing started picking up to the point that it sounded like it hurt, his scraped hands digging and tugging painfully at his blond and red hair and tears starting to gather in eyes staring at nothing. “I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die –!”

“Hey, Hey, it’s okay,” Nezuko tried to comfort the boy, but it seemed like he was too lost in his own head and afraid. She knelt in front of him, making sure to keep her body in his line of sight. “Hey, listen to me, okay? Can you hear me?”

She moved a little closer, causing his eyes to jump on her and for his labored breathing to whistle. When it seemed like he was able to focus his attention on her despite his terrified state, Nezuko slowly reached for his hands, making sure all of her movements were easy for him to notice while giving plenty of time for him to pull away.

The boy didn’t shy away from her careful touch, and allowed her to untangle his hands from his messy hair and bring them towards her. The girl then placed one of them over her chest, right where heart was, the other kept in her gentle grip with her thumb resting over his chaotic pulse point on his wrist.

“Just breathe with me,” Nezuko told the wheezing boy. She took an exaggerated breath through her nose, held it, then made a big show of releasing it through mouth. She continued to do this until something a little more coherent made itself known in the boy’s gaze, and soon he began to mimic her breathing.

It took a little while, but eventually he sounded a little better and not like he was being strangled by his own breathing. His pulse, though still beating somewhat at a rabbit’s pace, was slower, and Nezuko found herself rubbing soothing circles over it with her thumb.

“Better?” Nezuko asked softly.

The boy let out one more big breath before nodding. “Y-Yeah,” he croaked, taking his hands back and using them to rub his eyes and the few tears that had managed to escape. “Th-Thank you.”

“Of course.” Nezuko scooched backwards to give the blond boy some space and sat on her knees. “Don’t worry about–”

A sharp burning pain suddenly made itself known on her right side.

Nezuko cried out, curling into herself to avoid screaming any louder. Her hands flew to just above her hip, suddenly noticing how the white fabric around that area was turning red from a tear that hadn’t been there before.

“Woah are you alright?!” The panic in the boy’s gaze had returned, but this time it was over the wound on her. “That was…did you just get that?! W-Was it the demon?”

Nezuko groaned in both pain and realization that he was probably right.

The demon must have gotten a slash in before I severed its arms.

This was bad. Kuwajima warned her about getting injured early on in the exam and how that could spell trouble when encountering other demons. Blood loss and infection could attract demons with strong senses of smell and slow her down in general if not treated properly.

This wouldn’t have happened if you just ran away like you were told to, a voice that sounded very similar to her mentor scolded her.

Maybe so, but Nezuko knew she couldn't ignore that loud cry for help. She didn’t regret her actions, despite the injury.

But now she had a new problem to deal with, and it was already setting her up at a major disadvantage.

This is bad, really bad.

I need a new plan to deal with this for the next seven days.

She was so caught up in her thoughts she didn’t even register a pair of smaller hands grasping her arm and maneuvering her so her back was against one of the trees.

“Here, sit, let me take a look.”

Nezuko was in too much pain to argue, so she complied, leaning heavily against the dark trunk. She opened her eyes and was surprised to see the boy, his face still filled with anxiety but much more controlled than it was a moment ago. He moved her hands away from her side and examined the bloody area.

“Can you lift your kimono? J-Just enough so I can see the wound,” the boy stuttered, mimicking Nezuko’s kneeling pose from earlier but with only a quarter of the calm and confidence she displayed. “I-I can treat it…but only if you want!”

The girl nodded, grabbing the hem of the white and gold fabric and carefully lifting it to just below her ribs. Both of them winced when they saw the long slash mark that trailed from the right side of her abdomen and ending halfway to her spine. There was a lot of blood spilling, so much so that Nezuko couldn’t tell how deep or serious the wound was.

The boy reached into his kimono and pulled out a roll of bandages, gauze, a cloth, and two small containers. One was filled with water that he used to wet the cloth and clean up the blood that was spilling out but started to slow. The other contained an ointment that gave off a sharp medicinal aroma that stung her nose.

The boy scooped a large dollop of it onto his fingers and carefully applied the ointment around the edges of the wound. Nezuko bit her lip whenever his fingers made contact with the area, and the boy kept murmuring apologies at the burning feeling he must have expected her to feel.

But the entire time, he moved with expert precision, never jabbing his fingers recklessly at the injury and taking his time with each of his movements. Despite how the boy was failing at keeping a completely professional look of calm on his face, his hands were steady and moved with purpose.

In a strange way, he reminded her of her mother and father whenever they would treat her or her siblings for fevers or injuries.

Whoever this boy was, he knew what he was doing and clearly had a lot of practice treating injured people.

Again, Nezuko couldn’t help but wonder what someone like him was doing in a place like this.

Finally, he applied the gauze and wrapped the bandages around her stomach until the slash was completely covered. When he was done, the boy cleaned his hands, scanning over the bandages with a worried eye. “How does it feel? Are the bandages too tight?”

Nezuko ran her fingertips over the white wrappings, wincing when a bit of pressure was applied to the made body of the slash. But the pain had definitely gone down by great lengths to the point that it was a dull ache she could manage.

For someone so young, the blond boy had done a remarkable job.

“I feel a lot better, actually,” Nezuko replied, pulling her kimono back down properly. “Wow, you’re really good at this!”

The boy squeaked at her praise, looking away with the same amount of shyness she saw before the exam. “I uh, yeah, I-I’m used to treating injuries like this. So I uh, learned to do stuff like this since I was little.”

“Well, thank you so much,” Nezuko said with as much sincerity as she could. She gave the boy a short bow that caused a twinge of pain to jolt her side. “I really appreciate you helping me.”

This got a louder reaction out of the boy, yelping and waving his arms around. “Oh y-you don’t have to bow like that! B-Besides, the wound really needs stitches, but I don’t have anything here for that. Plus the stuff I put there was meant to speed up the healing a bit and prevent any initial infection, so you’re gonna have to be careful until you can get proper medical treatment.”

Nezuko lifted her head and was about to say something when there was a roar and scream in the distance. The two sprung to their feet, Nezuko’s hand on her sword and the flame-haired boy taking a few steps back. But scream was soon cut-off with the echoing sound of a thud and manic laughter that eventually faded out.

A very clear reminder that they were still in the hunting grounds of demons.

Nezuko looked out the corner of her eye, watching as the boy’s face paled and one of his small hands gripped at the slightly oversized sleeve of his elegant kimono tight enough for his knuckles to turn white.

And yet there was no panic in his eyes this time. There was no fire or terrified light resting in his flaming irises. Only two emotions did, leaving his gaze dull and hurting.

Resignation and despair.

“One of the other main points of Final Selection is to weed out the weak from the strong…”

“Too bad, he’s probably not gonna make it.”

“Because regardless of their effort, they will get themselves and innocent people killed.”

He knew he wasn’t going to make it out of this event alive.

And at that moment, Nezuko realized that she was about to make (in her mentor’s eyes, at least) a very costly decision to her own success.

I’m sorry Sensei, but I won’t keep my promise.

“Come on, we need to keep heading east.”

The boy whipped his head toward her, confusion breaking through the other negative emotions plaguing his expression. “Huh?”

The girl began walking away, pointing toward her left. “The sunlight will hit the mountain first in that direction, so we can get some proper rest. But we got to keep moving until then. Can you run?”

“B-But I lost my sword,” the boy pointed back to the shards, doing a doubt take as though to make sure he really did lose his sword. “I can’t fight, I can’t do anything. And you would basically be protecting me and you might get hurt again or worse! Why would–?”

“Because you helped me, and you didn’t have to,” Nezuko firmly said, resting a hand on her wounded side. “You could have left me and saved yourself since I properly would have attracted demons with a large gash and fresh blood. You should have left.”

“I was just…you saved me, and got hurt helping me!” The flame-haired boy argued. “B-Besides, I couldn’t live with myself if I left you alone and hurt. Even if you hadn’t been defending me, I would’ve helped you regardless!”

That solidified the decision for her.

After what Kuwajima told her, Nezuko expected everyone she ran into to be thinking only of themselves and only wanting to survive, even if it meant someone else had to die for them. That vibe permeated the waiting area for the event, and came off of the people she met beforehand as well. She truly thought that she was the only one that would struggle with the idea of fighting with a selfish intention.

But this boy, who was in no way older than her, not only admitted to helping Nezuko to repay the kindness he felt he didn’t deserve, but was certain that he would have acted the same way had he stumbled upon her alone and injured.

Staring at him now, eyes wide and looking away almost embarrassed and smaller than he had been when treating her, Nezuko could only think of her younger siblings, or her older brother and how she knew without a shadow of a doubt that if they were in her shoes, they would be doing exactly as she was now.

Kuwajima could be mad at her all he wanted later. Right now, all she knew was someone like this shy, thoughtful boy didn’t belong in these demon infested woods.

For all she knew, maybe he had a Tanjiro waiting for him back home, praying that he would return.

And maybe, deep down, she was thinking of another blond boy with a good heart who just wanted to help people before this cruel world did something terrible to him…

“Listen,” Nezuko said, walking back over to the boy. She grabbed his hand with the same gentleness from when he was panicking earlier. “I’m not gonna leave you here all alone to fend for yourself. I’m not saying this out of pity; you literally treated me for an injury that could have gotten me killed later down the line. Regardless of your reasoning, you didn’t have to do that, and I’m so grateful that you wanted to help me. Now I want to help you.”

The boy stared dumbfounded at her, the tears from before making a return and making his eyes shine like the flames they resembled. “I don’t…I don’t wanna…”

He trailed off, but Nezuko understood.

I don’t want you to die.

I don’t wanna die.

“I’ll keep you safe.” Nezuko tightened her grip and smiled. “We’ll both come out of this together, I promise. Okay?”

The hesitance and indecision in him warred with each other, until finally, they calmed and gave way to relief and hope and a spark of happiness coming off of him in strong waves. He swallowed hard and nodded. “O-Okay!”

“Alright, then.” Nezuko released his hand and gave the boy a moment to collect himself and rub his eyes. “Oh, I’m Nezuko by the way. I don’t think we introduced ourselves.”

“Ah, sorry about that, I must have forgotten to as well,” the boy apologized as though he hadn’t been distracted by trying to bandage a bloody demon wound. He did manage a chuckle and a small smile that suited him despite his slightly puffy red eyes. “My name is Senjuro Re–uh, just Senjuro.”

“Okay Senjuro, you ready?”

The flame-haired boy mustered up a determined look and nodded once again. “Yeah, let’s go.”

With that, Nezuko and Senjuro ran east, deeper into the jaws of the demon infested forest. Despite knowing that she was now attempting to keep a promise that came at the cost of one made to her mentor, Nezuko didn’t look back and knew already she would do whatever it took to keep this one.

Little did Nezuko know, that promise was only going to be the first of many she would be breaking.

Chapter Text

Four Years Ago…

It was a calm, cloudless night, with insects singing in the distance and the sweet aroma of peaches permeating the air. A soft wind blew at the trees that protected the small humble house that was built in the center of the orchard. Everything was peaceful and quiet and safe.

Which made it the perfect opportunity to sneak away from the crazy old man living inside that house.

The door slowly slid open, revealing a boy with choppy blond hair and a yellow kimono patterned with white triangles, clutching a small pack filled with his very few belongings and his sword at his hip. He slipped out and carefully shut the door behind him, teeth clenched and cringing slightly when there was still a bit of a groan from the wood being pushed.

A normal person would think nothing of it. But when living with someone with better than average hearing that could hear a sneeze from a mile away, this was the equivalent to dropping a metal pot on the ground.

The heartbeat inside was picking up…

Fabric rustled and covers shifting and a groan…

The flash of annoyance and a sound like mischief coming from the old man’s soul…

He was awake.

The boy bolted with a strangled scream trapped in his throat, dashing straight into the peaceful grove of trees and praying he remembered where all of the traps were this time around.

He didn’t want to get stuck and be dragged back inside. Last time he got caught, the boy had been in the middle of an impromptu escape attempt after having a vivid dream about the man-eating monsters the old man was training him to fight. He had to do training an hour earlier every day for a week as punishment since he “had the energy to stay up late.”

That had been weeks ago, and now he figured enough time had passed for him to try again. The timing at least seemed good, since the old man had recently praised him for finally mastering one of the techniques he had been working on teaching him.

Honestly, the sounds of praise and happiness the old man had expressed at a frequency only the boy could hear were something he never thought he’d ever experience. Sure, the old man gave off the sound of excitement or teasing or sternness when the boy’s training was his main focus, but those sounds from that day…

They were like a brilliant symphony, a sound that had been retired and brought back after many years of ravaging songs and violent chords and screaming melodies.

All for him…

The blond boy’s steps came to an abrupt halt. He stood beneath the canopy of peach blossoms as a sweet wind caressed his loose clothing and hair, frozen.

That old man really didn’t want to give up on him.

The old man actually, really did care about him.

The realization hit him so hard his breathing shuddered, the frequent tears he could never stop shedding dripping down his face once again in lazy rivers. He dropped his pack and furiously wiped at his eyes, embarrassed, despite being all alone.

Maybe…Maybe he really could do it. Be a demon slayer.

Maybe–

There were heartbeats.

The boy’s head snapped up. He looked wildly around as though something would pop out of the trees he’d become familiar with in the past year he’d been living in the orchard. There was nothing nearby, not that he could hear immediately.

No, this was coming from farther away.

The boy closed his eyes and tuned into his surroundings, listening for those different sounds that he began to realize were just outside of the orchard, right at the edge of the treeline.

There were three. Two of them sounded strange, wrong, like an out of tune shamisen. But they relished their sound, playing giddy sour notes and not caring one bit about how terrible their sounds were.

And the third was…

The boy frowned. He knew that sound.

A dissatisfied box of happiness…

With a sharp sound of fear ricocheting inside of it.

The boy changed directions, running toward the familiar sound like a siren’s song and away from the safety of his home.

He disappeared into the night, his pack of meager belongings lying limp in the soft green grass.

Little did the boy know, he would never come back for that pack.

Because after that night, the human boy known as Zenitsu Agatsuma would never come home.

“The sun should be coming soon,” Senjuro commented a little ways behind Nezuko. “Maybe we should stop and rest now.”

Nezuko hummed, currently crouched on the ground, hand flat down as she focused on finding any lingering demons in the area. She couldn’t sense nor hear anything, so she opened her eyes and peered through the treeline to see the night sky beginning to fade to dawn.

“The area seems safe, so we might as well,” Nezuko said as she stood. She winced as the action pulled at a few bruises and the slash on her side. “Let’s try and go a little further, though. Find a good place to settle until nightfall.”

Senjuro quickly scampered up to her side. “Yeah, sounds good.”

The two began making their way in the general direction of the soon to be rising sun. Their pace was a bit slower than normal, but only because Nezuko’s injuries were beginning to catch up with her. She couldn’t help the way her feet were starting to drag or how her hand was gravitating toward her injured side, leaving her breathing a little heavier than normal.

She did notice how Senjuro kept shooting glances at her, the concern poorly veiled in his eyes. But he also alternated between her and looking over his shoulder as though he expected a demon to pop out from the shadows despite her words of assurance earlier. Not that she could blame the boy with the week they’d been having.

To say that the past several days were easy would be a massive understatement.

Between navigating through the nearly perpetual dark forest, fighting demon after demon that always seemed to know their exact location, and making time to eat and treat injuries, there was hardly a moment for reprieve or any actual rest. It was becoming extremely apparent why Final Selection was viewed as the deadly event that it was and the caliber of slayers the Corps were looking for.

Thankfully, Nezuko and Senjuro managed quite well on their own despite her being the only one with a sword. Using her senses, Nezuko was able to pinpoint where most of the demons close by were, and adapt their path of travel based on that. For the most part, the two focused on avoiding any type of confrontation, either hiding until the danger passed or taking an alternative route.

If demons did cross their path or ambush them (which was a lot more frequent than she expected), Nezuko would fight them off until they ran off or were weak enough that she and Senjuro could run away. Said boy would hide or stay right behind Nezuko during those fights, making it easy for her to shield or tell him to run should things took a turn for the worst.

(Initially, when Nezuko told Senjuro to run if something happened to her during a fight, he had been vehemently against it. But eventually, Nezuko managed to convince him when she framed the situation as her making sure he was safe and giving her the peace of mind not to hold back against whatever demon she was facing.)

Otherwise, they traveled until dawn where they tended to their (Nezuko’s) injuries, ate, and then rested. Nothing had gone too terribly wrong as of yet, so they stuck with their routine and took pleasure in it being the one constant they could count on in the unpredictability of the deadly mountain.

Nezuko just prayed that their good fortune would remain for however long they had left. Because she wasn’t sure how much longer the two of them could last in this environment when they were starting to run low on food and supplies.

Not to mention how exhausted she was starting to get from fighting so many demons while looking after her defenseless companion (not that she would ever voice that out loud).

“How about here?”

Senjuro’s voice jolted Nezuko from her thoughts, and she didn’t even get the chance to respond before the boy gently grabbed her wrist and led her over to what looked like the base of a small half-cliff created by a large rock.

“Thanks,” Nezuko murmured as the boy helped her to sit and immediately pulled out a container and a few bandages. She set her sword to the side and pushed back the sleeve of her right arm to expose the claw marks that she had been unable to dodge from earlier that night. “Sorry, I probably should have seen that demon coming.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Senjuro said. He swiftly bandaged the wound before taking her other arm and examining the wrappings put there a few days again. “It’s the least I can do. Though honestly, you probably could have done this on your own without me.”

Nezuko shrugged, but still gave the boy a smile. “Sure, but you’re way better at this stuff than I am. I’d probably be lost without your help.”

Senjuro kept his gaze trained down, but she could see the blush on his face and feel how nervous he was about her praise. “I-It’s nothing, really. Just basic first-aid. Besides, you’re the one fighting all the demons when I haven’t done much at all.”

“Then what do you call what you’re doing right now?” Nezuko asked innocently.

“J-Just what any decent person would do!” the boy stuttered. Nezuko gave him a look, and it must have reminded him of what she said the first day they met by the way he turned away and didn’t argue the point any further. “Sorry, I…how’s your side?”

Nezuko grimaced at the mention, once again registering the pain that had been slowly growing worse by the day. “Still hurts, but it’s bearable.” She lifted the hem of her kimono to reveal the wrappings. “I think I’ll be okay, so if we have to wait to change it, that’s fine.”

The bandages were a little dirty and fraying, but at least in slightly better condition than her kimono which had become overtime torn and covered in dirt and mud. Senjuro ran his fingers over the wrapping, frowning at a few red spots near the center of the laceration. “Maybe we should still change them, just in case. You aren’t feeling feverish or anything, right?”

Nezuko shook her head, but let the flame-haired boy unravel the bandages and remove the gauze. She hissed when the wound was exposed, getting a glimpse of angry red flesh before forcing herself to look the other way. All she could do was bite her lip and dig her hands into the dry dirt as her side was cleaned and more of the strong-smelling ointment was applied.

Senjuro muttered apologies under his breath and bandaged the gash as fast as he could. He finished tying the last of the clean bandages with a “Done!” and Nezuko immediately slumped back with a long sigh.

The boy gave her an apologetic look. “Sorry, didn’t mean for it to hurt that bad. Is the pain better at least?”

“Yeah, a lot actually.” Nezuko placed a hand over her side, relieved that the pain was back to being more of a dull ache than a hot blade slowly being twisted into the gash. “Did it look bad?”

“Well, it’s not getting worse, but you definitely need to get it properly looked at before it does.” Senjuro started gathering his supplies and gave the ointment tin a worried look. “Hopefully this stuff will prevent leaving any big marks,” he muttered, as if Nezuko coming out of Final Selection with a huge scar on her side was the worst outcome.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Nezuko said, pulling down her kimono. Something poked her side and left a painful twinge as she did so, and when she reached into the dirtied white and gold fabric, she pulled out the peach Kuwajima had given her before she left. It was still in good condition and didn’t have any signs of being cut or bruised or rotted (miraculously). 

She couldn’t help the small smile, or the nostalgic feelings that brought her a little comfort. It was a reminder that she achieved her goals in training, and was so close to fulfilling her promise and proving that she was capable of protecting her brother and others.

It was also a reminder that she hadn’t eaten and was very hungry.

“What? No, no no...”

Nezuko looked over and saw Senjuro shifting through his kimono, searching for something. The worried crease in his brow deepened when he stopped, sighing and slumping against the rock with a miserable expression. When he noticed Nezuko staring, the look was quick to vanish.

“Oh, uh, I-I just forgot something,” Senjuro tried to brush off the concern. “I-I’m fine, really!”

His stomach disagreed, and made a low noise of complaint.

The flame-haired boy’s face burned again, and he looked away, hugging his middle. “Sorry, uh, just ignore that.”

Nezuko didn’t need to read between the lines to get a sense for the situation.

“Here, let’s split it.” She grabbed her blade and used it to cut the small fruit down the middle, ignoring the sudden panic in her companion’s eyes.

“What? Oh no! Don’t do that!” Senjuro waved his hands frantically and shook his head so hard Nezuko worried it might hurt. “I mean it, I’m fine! I can go a day or two without food. It’s not a big deal–”

“Nope, too late.” Nezuko put her sword down and pulled the two halves apart, some of the juices dripping down her fingers. “You need to eat, and I’m not taking no for an answer.” She held out the piece with the pit still in the center. “Take it, I’m not gonna eat it otherwise.”

Senjuro’s gaze flickered between Nezuko and the peach half, opening and closing his mouth as he struggled to find an excuse to turn away her generosity. But when he couldn’t come up with anything, he finally took the piece.

“Thank you,” he murmured.

“You’re welcome,” Nezuko chirped, taking a bite out of her peach and humming in delight at the sweetness gracing her tongue. “I’m happy to help out in any way I can.”

“I just feel bad,” the boy mumbled, staring dejectfully at his half of the peach. “First you’re protecting me and getting hurt, and now you’re giving me your food. I just hate that you’re wasting everything you have on me.”

The girl frowned, then nudged him. “Stop looking at everything I do as “wasting” it on you. You needed help, and I was able to help you, so I did. I’m not doing it out of pity or because I feel I have to; I want to because I want to. Being kind isn’t going to cost me anything, so don’t look at it like I’m placing a bigger burden on myself. It’s just me doing what any decent person should do.”

Senjuro blinked several times at her, stunned. “Sorry, just…that was really deep.”

Nezuko hummed, leaning back again and eating more of her peach. “It’s just what my dad taught me and my siblings when we were younger.” She gently rubbed the fabric right over her heart between her fingers, remembering what her late-father told her when she was really young. “Kindness is a gift that is meant to be shared. And I’m happy to share it with you, so stop trying to change my mind.” She nudged him again, a little more friendly. “We’re here now, and we’re doing fine, so let’s just continue to go with it. Okay?”

That seemed to resonate with Senjuro a little more judging by the less stressed and more thoughtful look taking over his expression. “I guess…Yeah, I guess that makes sense. Alright.”

Nezuko nodded. “Good! Now, eat your half before it starts to attract bugs.”

“Oh, right, yeah!” He turned back to the piece of fruit in his hands, eyeing it like it might disappear any second. But after sharing one last with Nezuko, he finally took a hesitant bite out of his peach half, a bit of light returning to his eyes and the ghost of a smile peeking out. “Delicious!”

“I know, right?” Nezuko couldn’t help the pride sneaking into her voice. “It was grown in my mentor’s peach orchard. The trees there constantly flower and grow peaches, even in the winter!”

“What?” Senjuro said in disbelief. “No way, that can’t be true.”

“It is!” she insisted. “Trust me, you’d know if I’m lying. Me and my older brother have terrible tells when we do. Whenever he tries, even if it’s for a good cause, he can’t keep a straight face and looks like he swallowed something really sour.”

Senjuro snorted, using a hand to stifle a giggle and nearly dropping his peach half. Nezuko herself couldn’t help her laughter as she imagined the last time her brother tried to tell a fib to their mother. He had been asked about staying up late and doing a few chores so their younger siblings could have a day off to play one spring. Even Nezuko could see the lie from miles away and nearly burst out laughing at his nearly cross eyed expression.

Though I should probably be fair to him…

“Honestly, what I do is even worse.”

That got Senjuro’s full undivided attention, his fiery eyes brimming with interest. “What?”

Nezuko made a show of looking off to the sides before wagging her finger and whispering, “Promise not to tell? I’ve never told anyone outside my family.”

Senjuro nodded vigorously. “I promise! What is it?”

Nezuko leaned in close and cupped her over his ear.

She whispered...

And Senjuro’s eyes nearly popped out of his head.

“No way!” His eyes roamed her body, as though what she just said would happen. “That’s…I don’t know…People can do that? You can do that? How? Why? Does it hurt? Or, I guess it makes you uncomfortable…But it’s true?”

“Trust me, it’s true.”

“Wow,” he breathed. “Honestly, as weird as it sounds, I…think that’s kinda cool.”

“Thanks…I think.” Nezuko decided to take the positive look at his words, considering the slight anxiety she had that people would have a bit of a stronger reaction to her lying “quirk” compared to her brother’s. “If you want, once we get out of here, maybe I can show you.”

The boy’s face brightened, but immediately fell and shifted through a few emotions that Nezuko couldn’t keep track of before settling back into his slightly worried expression. “Right…yeah…”

Senjuro turned back to his peach half and continued eating in silence. Nezuko wasn’t sure what to make of it, but didn’t want to push him too much and just finished up her portion.

Maybe he’s just nervous about encountering a lot of strong demons right before we can make it to the top of the mountain.

Or just doubting himself or what he can do to help again.

He does seem to do that a lot.

I wonder why?

“Hey, Nezuko?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you…really think we’re gonna make it out of this alive?”

Oh…so that was it.

Nezuko turned to Senjuro. His head was bent, knees drawn closer to his body and his gaze trained on the leftover pit from the peach he had just finished eating in his hand. “I-I mean, this isn’t me doubting you or anything like that. I just…I…” he trailed off, sighing with frustration and digging his free hand into his blond hair and burying his face in his knees. “Sorry, I don’t know why I said that. Forget about it.”

“No, it’s fine,” Nezuko assured him. She wiped her hands of the sticky residue from her small meal on her sleeves before sliding a little closer. “I totally understand feeling that way with the luck we’ve been having, and being realistic about our chances is important as well. But I’m sure everything’s going to be alright. We just need to keep doing what we’ve been doing for the next day or so and we'll be fine.”

Some of the tension left the boy at her words as he lifted his head to peek at her. He untangled his hand from his hair, and returned his gaze to the pit he was still clutching. “Sorry, I just wish I could be as optimistic as you. You just seem so sure that everything will be okay.”

“Well, I know that there is a chance things will go wrong,” Nezuko admitted. “But if I keep thinking the worst is going to happen and doubt myself, if and when that time comes, I’ll be in trouble.”

“Besides, this isn’t just about me.” The girl began undoing her braid, combing her fingers through the long strands in an attempt to tame the frizzy mess it had slowly become over the past few days. “I’m doing this so I can go back home to my older brother.”

Senjuro managed a small smile at that, lifting his head a bit more to rest on his arms. “You’ve mentioned him a lot. You guys must be really close.”

Nezuko chuckled with a bit of embarrassment, realizing he was probably right. “I guess I have brought him up a lot.” She winced when her fingers pulled at a knot in her hair, focusing her efforts on that. “And you?”

“Huh?”

“What about you?” Nezuko asked. She did her best to work the knot before eventually giving up and rebraiding her hair. “Is there anyone you want to go home to?”

Because now that she thought about it, Senjuro hadn’t given her a lot of details about himself or his family. Usually whenever they had downtown like now, Nezuko would be the one to carry the conversations, rambling about her training and (a lot more frequently than she initially thought) Tanjiro. She just chalked it up to the boy’s shy nature based on the way he sometimes stuttered around his words or clam up like he was trying not to take up too much space.

Though honestly, his behavior was beginning to give her some ideas of the background he might have come from...

“I actually have an older brother too.”

“Really?” Nezuko couldn’t help the smile that peaked onto her face. She finished with the braid, but fiddled with it a bit so her complete attention wasn’t on the boy. “Look at that! Something else we have in common! What’s his name?”

Senjuro’s smile softened, a look of nostalgia warming his gaze. “His name’s Kyojuro. He…He was a demon slayer, and he’s been helping me with my training since I was younger.” He turned the small pit in his hand, running his fingers over it thoughtfully as if it were more precious than the seed it was. “Despite everything, he’s always believed in me, and told me to have confidence in myself, even when I mess up. I don’t want to let him or my family down, but I’m not naturally good at this like he was. And sometimes it’s just a lot and just…lonely.”

Nezuko stopped, letting her hands fall to her lap as she digested his words.

Senjuro noticed her silence, looking away and rubbing his neck. “Uh, sorry. I’m not sure if that made sense-”

“I get it.”

That brought the boy’s attention back to her. “You do?”

She nodded, gazing up at the dark canopy of trees above them, though their oppressive shadows weren’t as strong with morning beginning to wake. “I wasn’t good at this either at first, and the very idea of fighting demons or anything threatening like them scared me. Whenever I was doubting myself, even before…everything, I would always think of what my brother would do, or that I had to be good enough now to look after him.”

At that, Senjuro unraveled himself so he was sitting like Nezuko, something more attentive in his posture and understanding in his eyes. “So, what did you do? To be strong enough for him–err, like him.”

Nezuko mulled over that for a moment, thinking back to her months of training and the heavy feeling of loneliness she carried with her everyday waiting for Tanjiro to wake up. How those emotions only got worse when she found herself struggling to understand her mentor’s lessons and then eventually nearly burning herself out with an almost-serious injury.

Her actions felt like they had to contribute in some way to her becoming stronger, to being better to the point that whenever she failed or couldn't do anything, Nezuko felt useless. And it went on like that until the last few months before Final Selection. So what changed?

“You have to try, and you did, and I think that’s super awesome! I know you’ll get it eventually, but don’t let your mistakes hold you back! Because someone as strong and pretty and kind as you deserves to know that I will always believe in you! Got it?”

“I was reminded that I didn’t need to compare myself all the time, and that I should be happy I tried.” Nezuko smiled, turning back to Senjuro. “As much as we think we’re always walking these paths alone, someone will always be cheering you on. Once you find your confidence in yourself, you’ll be able to find what you’re good at and work towards it. But that only starts once you realize that you’re enough on your own.”

She wasn’t sure if that made complete sense, but it was what helped her the most in those last months before leaving. It was what helped to push her not only to remember to breathe in-between her rigorous training, but to be satisfied with what she had managed to accomplish in the time since she started. After that, everything just fell into place, and for her, that was enough.

“Just think about it,” Nezuko finished when she noticed the still reluctant look on Senjuro’s face. She gave him another light-hearted nudge. “If you need someone to believe in you, then I’m more than happy to be that person. I know you’re going to be great one day, so don’t keep minimizing all the progress you made to get here, got it?”

Her words must have resonated in some way with the boy, if after a beat the way Senjuro nodded and the return of the soft smile from before were any indicator. “Okay, yeah, I think I get it. Thank you.”

“Of course!” Nezuko said. She attempted to shift into a somewhat more comfortable position before giving up. “But we should probably get some rest now. I can take the first shift.”

Senjuro shook his head. “It’s okay, I think it’s my turn anyways and you need to rest.”

The girl wanted to argue, but the idea of getting to sleep first this time when her body was practically begging for rest won out. “Okay, but don’t let me sleep too long. You need rest too.”

Senjuro nodded, sliding over so he was pressed up against Nezuko (remarkably, he wasn’t as flustered as he had been the first night Nezuko suggested they sleep closer to stay warm). “I will, don’t worry. Just rest.”

Nezuko closed her eyes with a sigh. “Alright.”

There was silence for a bit, with the only sounds coming from the rustling of the trees and the occasional echo of a voice from somewhere on the mountain. Nezuko just relaxed her body as best she could, focusing on her breathing and the warm body leaning against her.

“Nezuko?”

“Hmm?”

“Uh, what should I do with this?”

Nezuko opened her eyes and found Senjuro holding out the peach seed.

Oh, I completely forgot about that.

What should we do with that?

She remembered what Kuwajima told her about the peach tradition, and what he said it meant to him. To just throw it away seemed like a waste, but there wasn’t much value in keeping it.

Or maybe there was…

“You keep it,” Nezuko finally decided on, closing the boy’s hand around the pit and pushing it towards him.

Senjuro gave her a hesitant look. “You sure?”

Nezuko nodded. “My master told me that apparently its tradition that a thunder breathing master gives their students a peach before Final Selection. Says it’s for good luck and apparently one saved his life once.”

“Really? How?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. He said for me to come back and then he’ll let me know.” She closed her eyes again and returned to trying to sleep again. “Maybe it’ll be good luck for us. Just hold onto it for now, and we’ll see.”

Senjuro didn’t say anything after that. Nezuko took that as a good sign and allowed herself to drift for the short time she had to sleep. She did notice that just as she allowed herself to succumb to her exhaustion, her arm was wrapped in a loose embrace and a head rested against her shoulder.

And if she leaned a little closer to the warm body next to her, resting her hand on one of their arms and her head on theirs, there was no one there objecting to the comfort.

The boy stopped behind a tree, carefully peeking out.

A dark haired teen in a demon slayer uniform was on the ground, kneeling with his head bowed as though afraid to meet the eyes of the figures standing before him. One looked humanoid with orange-tipped hair tied back into fours with green lines on his face. The other was taller, with pale skin and something that he couldn’t tell if they were tentacles or extra arms poking out of his muscular arms.

They were saying nasty words, jeering while the teen refused to get up and fight.

Why wasn’t he fighting? He could beat them, right?

But behind them was one more figure, taller and more regal looking with his hair tied back into a ponytail and clothed more traditionally.

He walked between them, spoke in a low tone. Then, as though handing over a precious gift, the figure held out his hand and allowed something to drop into the teen’s hands. He couldn’t see what, but the sounds of fear and anticipation roared within his heart.

He should do something. Go get help.

Right now. Like right now-

But there was wind. A breath.

And a voice.

“Another one, then.”

The boy let out a sound of surprise and whirled around behind him.

He couldn’t hear him?!

Though that thought didn’t matter. The tall figure stared back at him, six glowing eyes pinning him into place.

Nezuko and Senjuro didn’t end up getting much sleep.

Barely an hour into resting, Nezuko was awakened by a distant rumbling above. She was only half-awake for a few seconds before the worried tone of Senjuro’s voice drove away the rest of her exhaustion. “It’s going to rain.”

Meaning there was going to be no sunlight today.

The two of them wasted no time getting their stuff together and continuing their plan to head east. They were running at this point, trying to cover as much ground as possible before the weather got bad and watching for any signs of demons. And yet, as the hours went by and the cloudy sky only continued to darken, they never ran into any.

That did nothing to qualm the growing anxiety thrumming through Nezuko’s veins. Something was wrong, and not even the thunderstorms that the girl had started to associate with calm and safety could ease that feeling.

All she could do was keep her guard up, and keep checking for demons that might be trying to sneak up on them. It wasn’t much, but maybe if they kept running they could reach the top before–

A hand grabbed the back of her kimono.

Nezuko let out a yelp and nearly ripped her sword out of its sheath before realizing it was only Senjuro. Only, the flame-haired boy was staring wide-eyed at something to their right. Nezuko followed his gaze.

They were in a small clearing with what looked like the tattered remains of haoris and kimonos, their colors faded and the materials threadbare with time. Broken blades littered the ground, some of the metals barely shining amongst the other rusty pieces. Objects that looked like sticks or old handles were scattered around, some appearing in what looked like piles while others thrown away thoughtlessly.

Lightning flashed, illuminating the area, and Nezuko realized those weren’t sticks.

They were bones.

Hundreds of bones lying around, piled high and some even resembling something only a quarter-way humanoid with cloth tied to them like scarecrows. The stench of rotting flesh and blood lingered like a miasma all with an overwhelming presence of wrong wrong wrongness burning in the air.

“It’s a demon’s nest,” Senjuro whispered.

What demon powerful enough to kill so many existed here?

They weren’t sticking around to find out.

Nezuko grabbed Senjuro’s wrist and started pulling him away. “Come on, we gotta–”

SNAP

Both turned around too late.

Large white hands exploded from the darkness, reaching for them. Nezuko tried to shove both her and Senjuro, but only succeeded in getting the boy out of the way of one of the hands. The other one grabbed Nezuko’s ankle and attempted to pull her away and into the air. She heard Senjuro scream something, but it was drowned out by her own cry of surprise. It didn’t last long as she pulled her sword out and twisted her body to slash at the arm, severing it. She dropped to the ground and rolled so she got back up in a defensive position, putting herself between the hands and Senjuro.

Looks like that training really paid off! Nezuko couldn’t help but think to herself. Thank you, Sensei!

The arms retreated back to where they came from, only for some sort of slithering noise to make itself known. Something very large, towering above the two young teens and slowly making its way over to them as though without a care in the world, was making that noise.

Nezuko dropped a hand to the ground, trying to get a sense for what sort of demon it might be (because this monster had to be a demon, there was no other explanation), and nearly collapsed to the ground when its sheer presence flooded over her like a tsunami wave.

This…was like nothing she had ever been exposed to before. It nearly reminded her of the night her family had been murdered, that feeling of wrongness and terror that had left her paralyzed and unable to move no matter how hard she tried.

But it wasn’t the same. It couldn’t be the same.

Her eyes widened.

She knew why.

It was a couple months into her stay with Kuwajima that Nezuko had begun to explain a bit of her ability to sense emotions and auras. The darkness of the small room was chased away by the lantern lights as the two sat across from each other eating dinner.

“So, you think my power can be useful while fighting?” Nezuko had asked, staring at the old man curiously.

Kuwajima nodded. “I think it could be useful in at least being able to gauge the strength of your opponents. That’s a skill most swordsmen would kill to have, especially if it prevents them from underestimating the demons they run into. You mentioned before that you were able to sense the change in your brother’s spirit after he had turned, right?”

The girl swallowed a bite of rice before responding. “Yeah, and I could tell that something was off about the demon we ran into before coming here.” The more she thought about it, the more use she could see the use in her power. “But is it possible to make something like that stronger?”

“Of course you can, just have a little more faith in yourself,” Kuwajima told her gruffly.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, followed by the pitter patter of rain against wood. Nezuko and Kuwajima looked out the window as a warm shower began. She thought about saying something else, but when she turned back to her mentor, there was a faraway look in the old man’s eyes. She couldn’t tell exactly what he was thinking, but there was tired sadness in his gaze, something that carried into his voice when he spoke again. 

“Just keep working at it. With abilities like these, at the very least, you’ll be able to tell how many humans a demon has devoured, and the amount of malice it carries towards those weaker than them. Those are the ones you should never engage alone."

This was one of those demons.

Run, run now. Don’t be stupid and fight this monster! Nezuko tried to tell herself, force herself to move. Grab Senjuro and run and don’t look back. Not when you’ve come this far. Just move!

But she couldn’t, not when a crippling fear was freezing her bones and preventing her from running away. It wasn’t the same, it wasn’t like the demon from her home, but it was strong and would kill her if she let it. She couldn’t let it.

Please just run! Just run away!

Then the shadows receded and she could finally make out the monster before her.

The demon’s main body was only vaguely humanoid, with a large torso and six muscular arms. Its lower half was concealed with a multitude of porcelain-white tentacles that were dragging the main body forward. Some ended into shapeless appendages while others actually formed arms and hands that twitched as if excited to grab and tear at whatever was closest to them. Even some of the tentacles and its main arms had smaller arms and hands poking out, resembling some sort of octopus fused with something that was once human.

Its face was the most disturbing thing to look at. Because where the demon’s eyes should have been were two grinning mouths with bright green lips. And in place of its mouth was an eye, the other buried in its forehead.

The demon stopped, two long appendages entangling themselves and lifting up to Nezuko’s absolute horror the dead bodies of two teenagers who must have been taking Final Selection. The mouths opened wider than what should have been possible for them and allowed the bodies to be lowered into them, crunching their bones and intestines gleefully and swallowing at the same time. The main body shuddered violently, and two more sets of arms grew from the mass of limbs below the creature.

“Perfect, that makes eight today,” one of the demon’s mouths said. Two tongues darted out to lick up the dripping blood. “Now, it should have been ten, let’s see what happened there, then.”

As if finally deciding to acknowledge the teens quite literally in front of it, the demon’s eyes suddenly shifted toward the two. Their amber gold was practically glowing in the darkness the incoming storm had created, some sort of unhinged excitement in them like the two were insects the creature wanted to crush beneath its feet (if it had any).

But something about that gaze was hauntingly familiar, something that made Nezuko’s skin crawl. Like this amalgamation of limbs and distorted facial features was someone she knew.

But that was impossible. She didn’t know this monster!

“You, girl!” The demon spoke, startling Nezuko and causing her to grip her blade tighter to the point her knuckles ached. Suddenly several infant-like hands grew out of the sides of the demon’s head, all of them pointing at her. “What era is it? How many years have passed?”

Passed? Nezuko wondered. Since when? But she figured that it probably wasn’t a good idea to question the demon towering over her and answered its question. “I-It’s the Taisho Era.”

“Taisho you say, hm?” Both mouths quirked into twin sneers at the girl. “I see, so not that much time has passed. I was afraid we had entered another era. It is quite hard to keep track of time here, so I often have to ask my prey that manages to escape about the year.”

“W-Why would you care how long it's been?” Nezuko demanded.

The demon laughed, crossing two of its main arms across its chest while the others gestured around. “I’m not the type to have open confrontations with my enemies. I prefer to hide and sneak up on my prey to really appreciate the fear and terror they experience the moment before their deaths. And it’s worked for me for the past forty-nine years.”

Nezuko’s eyes widened. “What?!”

No way, demons can live that long?

This demon’s been alive for forty-nine years?!

“You’re lying.”

Nezuko startled at the voice, suddenly remembering that Senjuro was right behind her. She cast a glance over her shoulder and saw the boy was still lying on the ground, an equal amount of shock and horror in his eyes. He was visibly trembling and sweating, but somehow managed to speak without stuttering.

“You can’t be that old. That would mean you were turned in the Meiji Era.” The boy shook his head, fear bleeding into his tone. “You can’t be that old or this powerful. The demons here have only eaten at most maybe three humans before being captured or killed. How have you managed to get so strong?”

The demon laughed, several arms waging their fingers like a disappointed mother. “How do you think? I may not have been in this prison for long, but I’ve learned how to collect the most humans in such a short amount of time. Why do you think I stay here near the top of the summit where you brats are at your weakest? Haven’t you noticed the number of you “slayers” passing has gone down to literally nothing?”

That made sense; most of the participants were probably exhausted and on their last legs after fighting to survive for seven days. Staying close to where someone would let their guard down because of the test almost being complete was the perfect place to ambush them.

With that thought, Nezuko tightened her stance and tried to hide the run-down state of her body.

Though Senjuro seemed to be focusing on a different issue. “Wait, you’re the reason why not many people have been passing in the last four years?”

“Four years?” The demon cocked its head, long pink fading to violet hair swishing as an arm scratching its chin. “Only that long? I didn’t think I was devouring that many. I think I’ve lost count at this point.” The monstrosity of limbs sighed. “Well, no point in dragging out your miserable little deaths anymore.”

Two white tentacles shot towards them, but Nezuko was ready this time. She quickly slashed at the appendages, widening her stance and preparing to unleash a breathing technique if another attack came.

“Eh? A competent one?” the demon groaned, arms and fingers twitching. “Of course now. You…wait, wait a minute.”

The main body leaned forward, the familiar/not familiar gaze pinning the girl and boy before him in place.

Lightning flashed, thunder rumbled…

And the demon burst out laughing like a maniac.

“Gods, I can’t believe it! This has to be fate!”

Nezuko’s hold on her blade became like iron, her leg muscles pulled taut until they felt like ripping. Senjuro made a strangled sound like he was holding back a whimper and a scream.

“The two of you were trained by hashira, weren’t you?” the demon nearly screeched, its hands clenching and unclenching into fists. “You must be their last descendants, there’s no other explanation!”

“W-What’s a hashira?” Nezuko looked between the demon and Senjuro, but neither one seemed to have heard her question as they were too far lost in their own emotions. “What do you mean by descendants?”

“The boy,” the tentacle demon started, hands pointing at her companion still on the ground. “I couldn’t be sure before, but the hair and eyes? He hails from the Rengoku clan, one of the longest line of slayers to exist. Their blood is supposed to be strong, but given how meek and fearful he is, it must be fading. How shameful!”

Senjuro didn’t answer, but she could hear his breathing starting to pick up, making the sound of building terror from before.

“Don’t talk about him like that!” Nezuko growled, one step away from attacking the demon in front of her. She didn’t know what to make of the information the demon gave her about the boy’s family history, but at the moment, it wasn’t important. “You don’t know anything. Why should it matter?”

“Because I love eating special slayers like him,” the demon answered. “And I suppose that includes you too, little thunder breather.”

Now that...actually took her by surprise.

“What did you say?”

The demon started laughing again, a hysterical kind of sick joy tainting its voice. “Don’t try and deny it! You’re another one of those thundering breathing brats from that old bastard, Kuwajima!”

WHAT?

“Y-You know Kuwajima?” Nezuko asked, this time unable to keep the fear out of her voice.

“Of course I do! He was supposed to be the last thunder breather alive, until we found out he had more and we wanted them!”

Now what did that mean?

“It’s your kimono,” the demon said, pointing a large assortment of hands at Nezuko. “It’s a different color, but I’d recognize that pattern anywhere. It’s the same one Kuwajima wore because apparently all users of that breathing style wear it for “honor” and “protection,” whatever that shit was. He’s the reason I’m here, why I’m getting stronger with each Final Selection that has passed. Because I was supposed to kill him and his wards!”

With everything the demon said, the anger and disgust was growing inside her, leaving Nezuko more and more confused and scared of the monster in front of her. It must have shown on her face, because the demon tone suddenly took a pitying inflection. “Oh, he didn’t tell you, did he?”

Against her better judgment, Nezuko shook her head. The demon grinned, its eyes glowing in a way that made her want to vomit.

“Ten years ago, we demons were suddenly given orders to eliminate as many retired and active hashira as possible, teaming up if we had to. Mainly, we were looking to kill those that were teaching dying techniques in an attempt to weaken the Corps as much as possible. So for the next several years, we hunted and killed many retired slayers as well as hashira.”

“I was tasked with ending the thunder breathers, along with a few other powerful demons. As far as we knew, there was only Kuwajima and one disciple he had that still practiced the technique. But we couldn’t kill them because too many things went wrong that night. So we were told to wait for when our master would be strong enough to lead us against the humans and end you filthy Corps once and for all.”

The demon then spread all of its arms out dramatically, as if addressing a crowd and not two scared teenagers. “So I came up with my genius plan! I pretended to be a weak demon and allowed myself to be collected and placed here, right where dozens of children would be constantly coming through in desperate attempts to prove themselves. I would grow my strength here quietly, no one batting an eye until I become strong enough to break out of here once and for all! Aren’t I so clever?”

It belted out a crazed laughter, echoing all around them. Some of its waving arms and tentacles wildly flailed around in excitement, hitting a few trees that were easily felled down or snapped like twigs. Both teens jolted back when one tree collapsed near them.

This is insane! Nezuko thought as her hands began to shake violently. She could still hear Senjuro’s panicked gasps behind and the rumbling of the incoming storm. Something this powerful…here? How are we expected to kill it?

Kill it…

Something the size of a giant, with multiple limbs strong enough to topple trees and kill children and teens so easily…

This was impossible.

This…

This was a death wish.

Nezuko’s hands stopped shaking. “Senjuro, run.”

Senjuro’s breathing halted. “W-What?”

“Keep running east, and don’t stop.” Nezuko readjusted her grip and stance into something more defensive. “I can keep the demon distracted, but not for long. Get out before it notices you’re gone.”

“Wha…no, no wait, you can’t!” She heard the boy shuffle behind her as he started pleading. “Th-That thing is too strong! If it was originally sent to kill a hashira or even tsuguko, then we don’t–you don’t stand a chance.”

He wasn’t wrong, but affirming that wouldn’t be helping either of them. “Maybe, but at least we’ll both stand a better chance of surviving splitting up for now. Just try and make it to the top of the mountain, and I’ll meet you there.”

The rumbling began to calm down, and it wasn’t from the storm. “Ah? What’s going on over there, huh?”

Nezuko peeked over her shoulder, taking in the terror and guilt on the younger boy’s face.

“I actually have an older brother too.”

“Really? Look at that! Something else we have in common! What’s his name?”

Senjuro’s smile softened, a look of nostalgia warming his gaze. “His name’s Kyojuro.”

She smiled. “It’ll be okay, I promise. Now go, your big brother’s waiting for you.”

Tears gathered in the boy’s eyes. He opened his mouth to argue, but his eyes looked past her shoulder and widened in panic.

She whipped her head back just in time. She blocked the incoming tentacle, pivoting to her right and slicing the appendage off in a spray of blood.

“RUN!” Nezuko screeched. Two more tentacles shot towards them and Nezuko moved back into a more defensive position to shield her companion. She had to make sure the younger boy ran to safety before she could try a proper attack. “GET OUT NOW! RUN SENJURO!”

“B-But-”

“NOW, SENJURO, RUN!”

That did it. The boy scrambled to his feet and dashed off. Nezuko chanced a glance behind her again to see him stumbling into the darkness of the forest. Within seconds, his bright hair and kimono had disappeared.

Good, at least now I know he’s safe.

And now I can fight without worrying about guarding my back.

Nezuko turned back and readied her blade, watching as more of the monstrous demon’s tentacles and arms unraveled themselves from the lower body.

“Dammit!” It growled. “You let the other one get away? Great, now I have to go find him later. Don’t make this more difficult than it has to be!”

Several more of the demon’s limbs shot towards her. Nezuko quickly sliced at them, feeling herself sliding back from the impact of each blow she was barely surviving. At one point, a large cluster of arms that she knew she wouldn’t be able to take out in one strike came into her line of sight.

Nezuko took in a deep breath, readied her stance, and lunged, changing the nature of the attack at the last moment.

Thunder Breathing Second Form: Rice Spirit!

Five strikes were delivered swiftly, ending with Nezuko leaping through the center they created so some of the yellow lightning trailed after her form as if she were a spirit. She landed and slid to put a bit of distance between herself and the demon. She immediately prepared herself for another attack, all while her eyes were darting around for a possible opening that she could use to escape after enough time had passed.

Because regardless of her own mini-crisis about killing, there was no way she was going to be able to win a fight against this monster.

But at least she could buy time for Senjuro to get away and perhaps meet up with him later.

The demon’s limbs shifted so its main body was facing her yet again while some of the sliced limbs were regenerating quicker than a normal demon’s should. Nezuko tightened her stance and waited for it to make the next move.

The demon stared at Nezuko, the strangely placed eyes considering her form, lingering on the kimono she was wearing and then her blade. Then the demon grinned at her, its amber gold eyes narrowing with pleasure.

“Well would you look at that. You really are just like that blond-hair brat that ruined everything.”

Thunder boomed, and it started to drizzle.

“Please, leave them alone.”

The boy was dragged from his hiding spot and thrown in front of the dark-haired teen, the other demons behind him. They were both smiling cruelly, whispering to each other like they were excited about watching whatever miserable show he was going to make of himself (something he was used to).

The teen was standing before him, staring down at the boy with an unreadable expression. He no longer looked or sounded confident and eager like he did in training. He wasn’t acting disgusted by the boy’s presence. He swallowed hard, causing the boy to notice that the magatama-like pendant he usually wore was missing. There was a trickle of blood from a cut on the side of his neck.

“D-Don’t hurt them. Please don’t hurt them.”

His sword had been thrown to the side, near where the teen’s had been placed far more gently and willingly. The teen’s hands hung limp at his sides, the palms dripping fresh blood down his fingers until they fell onto the grass.

The demon with no sound stared silently at the teen the whole time. Waiting for something.

“Please! Just let them go!”

The boy was on the ground, head pressed into the soil, groveling. But that was fine, he had no shame left, not anymore.

Not when the other demons started gloating about killing the teen and the old man. He didn’t understand why, but that didn’t matter. Not right now, when maybe he could spare them.

And maybe give the teen a chance to fight or get help.

Please, Please, Please,

Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease–

The boy lifted his head, uncaring of the pathetic tears streaming down his face. “PLEASE!”

No one said anything, the silence only broken by the sound of crickets and swaying tree leaves.

Then, the demon with no sound spoke.

“Kill them both.”

Something in the teen’s sound snapped.

S U R V I V E

The boy was roughly shoved toward the demons as the teen bolted. There was cackling laughter and suddenly too many hands on him, pulling him towards them.

The boy screamed as his hair was pulled and his flesh was torn at and his bones broken. He clawed at the ground, trying to get away, listening as the dark-haired teen’s sound became quieter and quieter the deeper he ran into the orchard, their home.

Leaving him alone.

The boy reached out a hand, pathetic, desperate pleas spilling out for help as he cried with all the strength his voice had left. And as he watched as the teen disappeared into the darkness, something in him broke as he realized with jarring clarity what had just happened.

His senior had abandoned him.

That was the last thought he had before his head was yanked back and two porcelain-white hands reached for his face, ripping from his abused vocal cords screams he didn’t know he possessed until now.

It was as though everything around her had stopped the moment the demon uttered those words. She barely even registered the light, cool rain that had started moments ago.

“What…did you say?” Nezuko said, barely able to keep her voice above a faint whisper.

The demon chuckled darkly. “I said, you’re just like that brat with the ugly blond hair.” A few hands gestured toward the girl it towered over. “You think you’re all that, that you can take on someone like me while letting your little friend run off. He did something similar for the other thunder breather, but it didn’t work out for him.”

Nezuko didn’t get a chance to process any of this as more arms came shooting at her. She managed to block several of them and sever others from their tentacles, doing her best to keep her breathing consistent. But that was even starting to become a challenge with how the attacks kept coming at her.

All the while, the monstrous demon kept speaking.

“You know, the dark-haired boy with the magatama necklace had a nasty attitude. Thought he was the greatest demon slayer to grace Japan. He didn’t even wear the signature thunder breather colors, but was pretty skilled.” The demon then scoffed mockingly. “However, the moment he realized he was outmatched, he surrendered and was almost willing to turn his back on the Corps if it meant saving his skin.”

No doubt about it, that was Kaigaku. It seemed like his personality, but what did the demon mean in that last sentence–

Another arm came sailing in from her right side. Nezuko pivoted to block, but jumped back at the last minute when two more came from the direction she had been facing before. She slashed at those as well, but nearly tripped over a hidden tree root.

“Then there was the yellow-haired brat. He wore the same kimono as you, but it was yellow with white, the complete opposite of yours,” the demon continued to monologue. “Ah, he was annoying, whining and begging us to let his poor senior and grandpa go because they were good people and shouldn’t die.”

Nezuko kept attacking, trying to tune out the demon’s grating voice and focus on the tentacles and arms grabbing at her. But it was getting harder to do that, not when a part of her realized that this demon was in fact describing who she thought he was.

“But he was powerful. When he was on the verge of death, hell, should have been dead, something in him changed. Dare I say, he may have been one of the most powerful swordsmen I’d ever come across.”

Another arm. Slice.

A tentacle from behind. Slash.

Two more from her left. Two slashes.

“But it didn’t matter.”

Two hands came from her right and left. Nezuko dove and rolled into a stance, breathing deeply and readying another form as another cluster of limbs loomed before her.

Thunder Breathing, Sixth Form–

“He stopped being a problem after I plucked out his eyes and ripped him to shreds.”

And just like that, her composure shattered.

Nezuko choked on her breath. She could feel her heart and lungs freeze, her body refusing to move. There was a ringing in her ears, a feeling like her throat was closing up on her.

Suddenly the last few months came flooding back to her. Days of training in the lightning fields and exploring the peach orchard under a warm, calming afternoon. Alternating between reading and watching a blond boy go on and on about the trees and the flowers he was collecting and the clouds floating above them.

Finally mastering a technique and watching as the boy who had been cheering her on since the day they met show genuine happiness at her success, his honey-brown, sometimes amber eyes glowing in the soft moonlight–

No…

Eyes like–

No, no no–

The two bodies the demon devoured before. How it suddenly grew four arms the moment they were–

No, no the demon couldn’t mean…

His eyes…How there was something off about his presence, like he was never there–

No, gods, please no…

He always kept his distance, disappeared so suddenly, shielded his face when he got overwhelmed…

“I just can’t see Gramps anymore. That’s just the way things are now. And nothing can change that.”

There was only one explanation.

Zenitsu was dead.

“Got you!”

A tentacle shoved Nezuko roughly into a tree. She cried out as the appendage tightened and pinned her arms to her sides, aggravating her injured side.

“Haha! I didn’t think that would work!” the demon gloated. More arms began to hover toward Nezuko. “But I guess that old fool Kuwajima didn’t do a good job at keeping that whiny brat a secret.” The tentacle wrapped itself tighter and tighter as Nezuko squirmed. “Speaking of, tell me little thunder brat, how do you think Kuwajima is going to react after I kill another one of his pupils? I bet he won’t be able to live with the guilt, not after raising such failures and destroying what’s left of a nearly extinct technique. After today, I will have finally fulfilled my duty to my master and it will all be thanks to a pathetic little boy who thought he could cry his way out of his problems!”

Nezuko could barely hear the demon’s laughter over the growing ringing in her head. She grinded her teeth together, a vein bulging in her forehead. A numbness was growing in her body, most likely due to how tightly she was being held, but also from another emotion she rarely felt.

Rage.

How dare this monster talk about her friend like that? About her master and everything they went through? They were being treated like their lives were meaningless, worth less than trash.

Touching the demon now, Nezuko could sense an overwhelming amount of malice and sick joy and eagerness at what it had done, what it was going to do in killing Nezuko. This was worse than when her brother had been turned, something that left her sick and terrified and angry.

Was this how demons saw human lives? As nothing but playthings to eventually eat when they felt like it?

It was disgusting.

“Y-Y-ou…Y-You…” Nezuko managed to choke out, trying to force the words despite the constricting pressure on her waist.

The demon leaned in closer, its eyes—Zenitsu’s eyes—crinkling in mock pity inches from her. “What was that? Last words you want to–”

Nezuko kicked its chin. Hard.

The demon sputtered and made a frustrated sound of pain, but the shock made the grip it had on her slacken. Nezuko then kicked the limb, broke free from its hold, and slashed the tentacle.

Several more tentacles and arms sprang at her in anger. “Oh no you don’t!”

Nezuko didn’t care. With less precision and more wildness, the girl blindly slashed at whatever came into her vision, screaming in fury and trying to get closer to the monster that killed her friend and mocked her mentor and saw her as nothing–

Nezuko…

She wasn’t bothering with breathing techniques at this point. The creature before her needed to pay, needed to stop talking and–

Nezuko, breathe…

Some arms still managed to hit or cut her with uneven fingernails. She kept stumbling and falling over roots and into trees, causing them to groan like they might fall over. A hand even managed to grab her braid, but she sliced the hair without any hesitation, freeing the strands so they now rested only halfway down her back.

Nezuko…

But she still had her sword, and a fury that could not be suppressed to avenge everyone who had suffered at the hands of this demon. She just kept attacking and fighting and screaming–

Nezuko stop! You need to breathe!

A hand punched her injured side. The action forced a choked breath out of her, and suddenly every injury and chaotic feeling in her body came to the forefront of her mind tenfold. The girl fell to her knee and coughed, the red haze that had settled over her clearing.

What was that?

Was that…me?

She didn’t get the chance to ponder that.

Several tentacles shot at her at once, and Nezuko tried to recover quickly and slash at the incoming attack, but–

“You’re not very good at hiding your weak spots, are ya?”

Another tentacle burst from the ground, shoving her against another tree. A hand the size of a toddler’s fist burst from the side of the appendage and grabbed her waist, digging its fingers into her bloody side and ripping open the wound.

The world exploded into white-hot pain as Nezuko screamed hard enough to rip right through her throat. Another pale white hand shoved and threw her, the tiny fist pulling fabric and flesh away with it. Nezuko fell, and everything went dark.

The storm rumbled outside, shaking the leaves of the peach orchard and causing the wood of the small building to creak with the wind. There was little light, only coming from the few lanterns lit.

“Oi, will you please sit down? He’s fine and not going anywhere.”

No response. Zenitsu leaned forward a little from where he was sitting next to Gramps, just able to make out the young man’s outline at the dark doorway.

“Kaigaku, I won’t ask twice.”

A frustrated huff and silent annoyance were all Zenitsu could hear. Then it was footsteps stomping away and back into the main room. Kaigaku didn’t bother to make eye contact with the old man and sat on the other side in the farthest corner. His gaze remained on the entrance to the open bedroom.

“You could have closed the door, you know,” Gramps grumbled. Zenitsu peered over the old man’s shoulder, watching as he carved a piece of peach wood in his hands into something smaller, maybe roughly the size of his hand and looking a bit like a cylinder. “It’s not like the demon is just going to wake up and break the door down.”

Kaigaku didn’t respond, leaving them in quiet save for the rain that was starting to pick up outside. It was a calming storm that did nothing to alleviate the tension in the small house.

“I mean it. If he hasn’t moved now, then–”

“Stop it.”

“What?’

“This. Pretending like nothing has changed.”

Zenitsu tried to level a glare at Kaigaku, but he couldn’t hold it for long and let it fall to his lap. Don’t fight, please don’t fight and leave.

The old man sighed, some of his own frustration being visibly known. “Well, my apologies if I’m trying to help us move past everything.”

“Well, it’s not working.” Kaigaku retorted. His intense turquoise eyes narrowed at Gramps, then at the peach wood he was working with. They rolled before settling on the doorway to the house.

Gramps finished with the wood and set it aside. He picked up another larger piece of peach wood and began carving that as well.

“Be honest, old man. Do you really think she’s going to pass?”

Gramps paused his work.

“Well, she has the skill and the strength to achieve her goals, and though she’s not completely in-sync with the breathing style yet, that girl has some serious dedication that will help her down the road.”

Kaigaku scoffed. Gramps didn’t like that and raised an eyebrow.

“What?”

“You didn’t answer the question.”

“I gave my opinion on her.”

“Yes or no, do you think she’ll pass or is she going to get herself killed trying to play nice with demons?”

Stop it, don’t be like that.

Another sigh, this one more tired than before. “I don’t know.” A few beats passed before Gramps spoke again and resumed his work. “At this point, it’s in the hands of the gods."

Kaigaku stared at the older man like he was speaking nonsense. He then shook his head and muttered something under his breath (“yeah, right”). His stony gaze returned to the outside door, not moving for the rest of the storm.

Zenitsu just kept his head bowed, his hands clenched tightly into fists and resting on his pants. 

You’re wrong, Kaigaku.

You don’t know what you’re talking about.

I know Nezuko, and she won’t fail. Nezuko will pass, I know she will.

You didn’t see her, how she deflected the strongest lightning bolt out there.

Sure that demon’s killed a lot of people, and is part of the reason we’re here like this, but Nezuko is stronger.

I know she won’t fail!

“RUN!”

Trees blurred as he ran. Thin, lower branches and some bushes pulled and tugged at his kimono, but he kept running, uncaring if the fabric ripped or not.

“GET OUT NOW!”

He was breathing so loud, his throat was sore and his lungs were begging for oxygen. Seeing ahead was becoming harder with how dark it was, the rain slowly but surely picking up, and the tears in his eyes.

“RUN SENJURO!”

There was a sudden dip in the ground, and Senjuro tripped.

The boy gave a small cry and tumbled down the small incline. When he finally stopped, he pushed himself back onto his feet, but fell again. He tried once more, but collapsed and finally noticed it was because his right ankle had gotten caught in a loose tree root. With a hard yank, he pulled his foot free, and then looked for the path he had been taking.

Darkness was all around. He didn’t know which way to go.

Senjuro was lost.

And somehow, that was his breaking point.

I’m gonna die here.

Senjuro didn’t bother to stop his crying this time, finally letting out the ugly pathetic sobbing he had been holding back since the day he left for Final Selection. He curled up into a ball on the ground, winding himself tighter while pulling on his hair and screwing his eyes shut. His fingers dug deeper and pulled enough that it hurt.

Idiot Idiot Idiot!

What was he thinking? He didn’t belong here, with the other capable swordsmen who actually stood a chance against demons. This was something he had been aware of since he began training by himself. And now here he was, alone on a demon infested mountain that he had no hope of surviving.

He didn’t even want to be here! So why did he think that coming here before he was told he was ready was a good idea?

Because you know he never would have let you go.

Because you’re too weak.

Because you’ll never measure up to the legacy that only you can preserve.

A loud shriek pierced through the night. Senjuro’s eyes flew open.

That was Nezuko.

That’s the exact scream I had when that demon broke my sword and was about to kill me.

Something cold settled in the pit of his stomach.

Was Nezuko about to die?

For once, the two weren’t running up the mountain, finally able to take their time. Nezuko still paused from time to time to try and sense any nearby demons, but she said they had lucked out and found an area with very few. Senjuro still found her “special sense” a bit strange, but considering it was the reason they weren’t taken by surprise by any of the demons, he decided not to question it.

They had only run into one recently, but the girl had managed to chase it off when it saw how quickly its arm had been sliced off. They had continued on their way, but now that they had some down time and things seemed calm for the most part, it was quiet.

Senjuro didn’t know why, but he found himself asking the girl something that had been on his mind since they first met.

"Nezuko?”

“Hm?”

“Uh...how come you haven’t killed any of the demons we’ve run into?”

Nezuko stopped, surprisingly lighting her gaze before she quickly turned away and moved to a nearby tree to find more demons.

Oh no, he shouldn’t have said anything. Why did he open his big mouth when they were finally on better terms with each other? He probably made it look like he was insulting her abilities.

What kind of person who can’t even defend themselves against one demon makes fun of the person protecting them? After everything she’d done for him, here he was acting like an ungrateful jerk!

Say something! Tell her it was nothing! Fix this now!

“Sorry, uh, forget I said that! I didn’t mean to offend you-”

“No, it’s fine.” The girl turned back to him, something akin to embarrassment on her face. “I guess it’s pretty obvious, huh?”

Senjuro vigorously shook his head. “No! I just–it’s not like I think you’re not skilled enough! I mean…wait, no! That’s not–I think you’re really strong and–”

“Senjuro, breathe. It’s fine.”

She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, and Senjuro focused on the familiar weight while taking a deep breath like she said. He cautiously searched her face for any sign of frustration, anger or disappointment, but was surprised when she still had her caring look of kindness.

He then felt a flash of guilt for expecting her to be like those other emotions.

Not that he would blame her for that–

(Stop it! She’s not like that!)

“Better?” Nezuko asked, hopefully unaware of the crisis in his head.

“Y-Yeah, sorry about that,” the boy mumbled.

The girl hummed, giving him one last pat on the shoulder before nodding to the trail ahead. The two resumed walking in the dark, a silence between them that Senjuro couldn’t tell if it was awkward or calm or something else.

It went on like that for maybe a few minutes before Nezuko spoke up again.

“I don’t know if I can.”

“Huh?” Senjuro turned to the girl, noticing how something more hesitant and unsure crept onto her expression. “Why not?”

There was a clink of metal as Nezuko’s grip on her sword's handle tightened ever so slightly. “It’s kind of hard to explain. I just…I didn’t grow up prepared for this kind of thing. And killing another living creature, especially one that still seems human, feels…I guess, wrong.”

Senjuro studied the girl, thinking back to the first day they met and how effortlessly she had defended him against the bladed demon. At the moment, she didn’t seem like the type of person to hesitate to attack and defend herself. But then she did, and just let the demon run away.

But it didn’t appear to be hesitation, more like…she chose not to do anything more.

Senjuro thought about that, his fingers starting to play with the oversized sleeves of his kimono. “But if you can’t kill demons, then how are you going to be a demon slayer?”

Wait, that sounded wrong. Crud, take it back, take it–

“Maybe there’s a way to still be helpful.”

Oh.

Huh.

Was that possible?

Could you be useful to the Corps without taking life?

“I know how that sounds,” Nezuko added when she noticed the confusion on Senjuro’s face. “Honestly, I don’t blame anyone for thinking that sounds crazy. But if there’s a way to fight demons without needing to kill them, then I’m all for that.” She laughed a bit self-consciously, rubbing the back of her neck. “That probably sounds a bit insane, but I’m hopeful I can figure something out.”

It honestly was a crazy idea, one that Senjuro was certain anyone in his family would scoff at and deem Nezuko unfit to be in the Corps. Heck, even when Senjuro had been cornered by that demon on the first day, he knew there was no reasoning with it, and tried to kill it before it shattered his blade.

But Nezuko was strong and made it seem like she wanted to do more than just kill demons without a second thought.

Could there be a way to be helpful to the Corps and the fight against demons without killing?

Senjuro didn’t think so.

But maybe…

“I think you could do it.”

Nezuko stopped in her tracks again, shock replacing the earlier embarrassment. Senjuro worried that he said the wrong thing again, but then Nezuko smiled softly at him.

“Thank you. That actually means a lot.”

Nezuko wasn't going to survive that fight with the demon.

And she let him run away from that monster.

Gods, what was he doing?

Nezuko was the one that deserved to live. She trained for two years and succeeded in actually using her breathing style. She told him about her goals and what she wanted to achieve, and did the work for all that only for everything to end tonight.

She was kind and gentle and didn’t make Senjuro feel like an idiot for screwing up badly on the first day of a deadly exam. She looked after him despite how much more draining it was on her. Even though it cost her injury that was surely getting worse by the day despite his efforts and could be the very thing that kills her.

She fought and prepared for this moment.

She didn’t run away from danger, from someone in trouble, from her home-

Why, WHY did he decide to do this?

Why did he think that he could be just like–

“I was reminded that I didn’t need to compare myself all the time, and that I should be happy I tried.”

Nezuko’s voice floated back to him. The boy reached into his kimono and pulled out the small peach seed she insisted he hold onto.

“As much as we think we’re always walking these paths alone, someone will always be cheering you on. Once you find your confidence in yourself, you’ll be able to find what you’re good at and work towards it. But that only starts once you realize that you’re enough on your own.”

“If you need someone to believe in you, then I’m more than happy to be that person. I know you’re going to be great one day, so don’t keep minimizing all the progress you made to get here, got it?”

For some reason, she truly believed that he could amount to something great without even knowing all that much about him to begin with. He didn’t understand why, but hearing that from someone outside of home without any traces of trying to coddle him or knowing the family burden he carried meant a lot.

It made Senjuro feel like he could truly achieve something great.

Thunder boomed overhead, the rain picking up but doing nothing to mask the crazed voice of the demon Nezuko was facing far behind him.

Senjuro’s hand closed around the seed.

“Remember, you are a Rengoku, and you have a legacy of pride to uphold.”

“Don’t you dare do anything to tarnish it.”

“Stand tall, look your enemy in the eye, and show them that you are a flame that will not be extinguished.”

He knew what he had to do.

The dark-haired teen ran.

Trees blurred past him as he stumbled and pushed his way past the bushes and plants that prevented him from escaping. He could still hear their laughter and voices as they threw taunts and mocked the boy he left behind.

And the screams…

He tried to ignore them, focusing on his heavy breathing, loud and all over the place without a hint of the training he endured. Not on anything else, not even his feelings of anger and guilt.

He just had to keep running. Don’t look back, and keep running.

Keep…

He suddenly stumbled to a halt.

The screams had stopped.

A gentle wind blew past, scattering petals and a sweet aroma that made him want to vomit. It sent a shiver up his spine as it brushed his hands, still wet with blood. Slowly, he brought his hands to his face, watching as they shook. 

He…He had gone too far, hadn’t he?

This wasn’t right.

What was wrong with him?

There was a boom, shaking the ground and leaves above him. The teen turned around, seeing something lighting up in the distance where the demons were.

It sounded like thunder.

Something was happening.

He wanted to run, pretend like he never saw what happened and that he wasn’t about to commit a terrible slight against the Corps. He could get away with it and no one would be able to prove him otherwise.

But could he keep doing this? When he knew that people were getting hurt because of his actions?

People who deserved it?

People who didn’t?

He growled, snapping his hands into fists.

He knew what he had to do.

“Nezuko! Wake up!”

Someone was shaking her.

“Nezuko please!”

Her head hurt, everything ached, and her side was on fire.

“Big Sister! Wake up!”

Wait, she knew that voice…

Nezuko’s eyes cracked open, darkness all around her. Several figures stood a little ways from her, but right in front of her was the blurry image of a little girl shaking her.

Hanako?

“NEZUKO!”

Nezuko’s eyes snapped.

Senjuro’s face was right in front of hers, panic and relief in his gaze. “Oh thank god! Can you stand?”

“Wha–” Nezuko tried to sit up, but then the world spun and her side twisted in pain. She immediately turned to the side and threw up whatever was in her stomach, the action pulling at her muscles and not helping.

That’s when she heard the roaring and the sound of trees being toppled. “WHERE ARE YOU BRATS?! I’LL KILL YOU BOTH!”

Everything came flooding back.

The demon.

Final Selection.

Zenitsu.

“Come on! Get up!” Senjuro frantically pulled Nezuko to her feet and started dragging her in a different direction. “We have to go now!”

“Where-?” Nezuko stumbled after the boy while keeping her free hand on her side and trying not to cry out in agony. “What, t-the demon…you–”

“I lured the demon away using my voice and then circled back to you,” Senjuro quickly explained. “I-I’m sorry, I couldn’t leave you, and you were knocked out and it was going to eat you!”

Right, she remembered fighting the limbs that kept coming at her with an anger she never felt before. But then a hand had grabbed her weak side and reopened the injury before slamming her into a tree.

She glanced down and nearly threw up again when she saw how her entire left side was soaked and still spilling blood down to her pant leg. Though there was some fabric that looked like it belonged to Senjuro’s kimono keeping it somewhat covered.

That’s going to leave a nasty scar, was all Nezuko’s mind could focus on in that moment.

Another loud roar came from behind them, followed by a flash of lightning and a crack of thunder. “I KNOW WHERE YOU ARE! YOU CAN’T HIDE FROM ME!”

The ground started shaking as if there was an earthquake, and Nezuko felt Senjuro yank them in a different direction. They couldn’t go as fast as she knew they needed to, not with how hard it was for the girl to stay focused and with her rapidly losing blood on the verge of passing out again.

It was only a matter of minutes before the tentacle demon caught up to them.

“Right here!”

They stopped right in the center of a clearing with large clusters of trees surrounding them. They were taller and thicker than most of the ones they had passed along up until that point, but still sparse enough that the rain that had turned heavy pelted them with thick raindrops.

“Come on, over here,” Senjuro said, more to himself than her. Nezuko allowed herself to be dragged over to a specific spot where they would both see the demon emerge. It confused her why they were going to wait for it to come, but another wave of stabbing pain sent her to her knees and into the wet dirt below them. She leaned against the nearest tree and tried to get her breathing back under control with the brief time they had.

Protect him…Don’t let…that demon take…someone else…

“Just hold on a little longer.” Senjuro knelt by her and wrapped her side with less precision and caution than usual. “I can take better care of this later, but we just have to wait a little longer.”

Nezuko shook her head. “No, t-the demon…” She tried to get up, but the pain was too much at the moment. All she could do was grab her sword and try to get into a semi-ready position to attack (if she could). “It…can’t let it–”

Senjuro pushed her down carefully and looked her in the eye. “Do you trust me?”

Nezuko blinked sluggishly. “Huh?”

“I have a plan,” he told her, though his tone wavered. “It’s not a very good one, but I think it’s the only way we can stop the demon. Can you trust me with this? Please?”

Nezuko studied him, realizing that this was the first time she had seen him look somewhat confident despite the fear and glassy sheen in his fiery eyes. She slowly reached for his wrist, and felt the change she suspected in his aura. Though it was still like a small candle with a tiny, flickering light, it was as though the fire was burning brighter, more hopeful and ready to flare into something greater.

Trust him, let him help.

Nezuko nodded. “O-Okay.”

They didn’t have to wait long for the pale white arms and tentacles to break free from the shadows before them. They scrabbled and clawed at the wet ground, pulling the hulking form of the demon toward the two young teens. The flashing lightning illuminated the rage in the demon’s glowing eyes, its twin mouths pulled into ugly scowls for once.

“So this is how it’s going to be, huh?” The demon snarled. More and more of its limbs unraveled from its body, some restlessly pounding into the softening ground while others waved around angrily, just barely missing the large trees circling them. “We could have done this nice and quick, but you brats had to make things difficult! I was even considering saving your bones for a possible piece of artwork.” Its eyes narrowed, devoid of any remaining humor. “I guess we’ll just have to make your deaths long and painful to make up for that.”

Nezuko forced herself onto one knee and kept a tight grip on her sword. At the same moment, Senjuro stood up and put himself between the demon and Nezuko.

“Oh, what’s this? Is the Rengoku pipsqueak trying to live up to that famous legacy right now?” The demon scoffed. “A little late for that, but I’d like to see you–”

“LEAVE US ALONE!”

Senjuro suddenly reached into his kimono and chucked something at the demon.

BOOM

Lightning flashed and a loud clap of thunder rang out, much closer than the previous strikes had been. Nezuko flinched at the sound, waiting for something to happen or for her arm to be grabbed by the boy or for the demon to attack.

But nothing happened.

“What is this?”

One of the demon’s main left hands was holding whatever it was that Senjuro had thrown. It brought the small object close to its face, both oddly placed eyes scrutinizing it before widening.

“Is this…a seed?”

…Huh?

“It is. You threw a fucking seed at me?” The demon’s gaze honed in on the boy, waving around the tiny seed that Nezuko realized was in fact the peach pit she had given Senjuro earlier that morning. “Is this some kind of joke? Are you really this pathetic that you couldn’t even bother to actually try a proper attack?”

“S-Senjuro,” Nezuko whispered in a shaky voice, “wh-what–”

“Just trust me,” the boy said softly. He took a few steps back and placed a hand on Nezuko’s shoulder. He then yelled in a voice that sounded much more unsure and scared. “I-I thought it might…I-I just–”

“Thought it would do something? How delusional are you?” The demon then barked out another manic laugh. “Too bad you thought this stupid thing would save your life. You really are pathetic.”

The demon laughed again and flung the seed to the side. It was sent flying at a speed that made it whistle. It smashed into the trunk of one of the towering trees, creating a dent and an ominous moaning sound.

“THERE!” Senjuro yelled. He pointed at the tree and made a move to grab Nezuko’s arm. “DO IT NOW!”

Nezuko didn’t know what that meant, but she began to unsheathe her blade and took in a quick breath. But Senjuro’s grip tightened as if telling her to wait.

“What?!” The demon turned in that direction, several tentacles lashing out there. “Who’s there–?”

They all hit the same tree in unison, right where the seed had been pelted. Mushy dirt exploded at the impact, and the tree fell forward. The tentacle demon screeched as the trunk landed on its back, causing it to lash out with more tentacles and arms. There was no coordination in the limbs and as a result they either flailed into the wet ground or knocked over more of the massive trees. 

Soon it was as though a river of mud and leaves and trees were surging onto the demon, the monster yelling and roaring as it was buried. Nezuko could barely see the demon at this point, and was shaken from her stupor when Senjuro yanked her up and they ran behind the tree she had been leaning against. A second later, its trunk groaned and fell forward to join the pile. Nezuko instinctively grabbed and shoved the boy to the ground, shielding him with her body as the destruction kept going. Dirt and foliage kept raining down with each impact, and it all kept coming and coming until–

It all stopped.

Nezuko and Senjuro waited a few beats in silence, trying to catch their breaths and listening for any more crashing or signs that the demon was still moving. But all that they could hear was the heavy downfall of the rain now that their clearing wasn’t being shielded by the treetops. When it seemed safe, the two got up and limped closer to the huge pile that had been created. It looked like a mini-mountain of fallen trees that loomed over the two of them. There was the occasional creak of the trunks, but other than that, there was no movement to signal that the demon was conscious or able to move.

Nezuko could only stare at the pileup, her probably concussed brain and bleeding side making it hard to process what the boy standing next to her had just done.

“How…How did you-?”

“The rain’s been making the dirt here looser,” Senjuro murmured. He appeared to be in just as much shock as her. “I-I noticed that the demon knocked over the other trees easily, and when I was running back to you, I found this place and, well…thought of this.”

Before she could stop herself, Nezuko asked, “Did you…think this work?”

A beat. “No, no I really didn’t think this would work out. But I had to do something.” He then gave the girl a hesitant look. “We should…go, right? Or try and…kill it?”

Nezuko frowned. Her hand once again drifted to her side and the agonizing pain that was spreading throughout her entire body. She found herself sheathing her sword while still staring at the pile, then up toward the sky, closing her eyes to feel the cool rain pelting her face and soaking her clothes.

I don’t see where we can find any of the demon’s weak points, and neither one of us is in any condition to fight. It’s probably best to just let the demon burn once the sun comes out. It’s not like it can escape now.

Besides, now’s not the time.

I’m not ready to do that yet, and hopefully that’s okay.

Nezuko sighed, then shook her head.

“Let’s just go.”

Senjuro didn’t argue with her. He just nodded and allowed her to wrap an arm around his shoulders. With that, the two of them slowly made their way forward, leaving the demon and its horror behind them.

Nezuko finally allowed the tension to leave her body, reaching out to a nearby tree for a little more support as she thought about how much further they had to travel before reaching–

A demon’s presence ROARED.

BOOM

The tree pile erupted behind them. Nezuko turned around a second too late, the sky lighting up and a large white hand reaching for her head being the only thing she could see, process, watch in silent horror–

“NEZUKO MOVE!”

–as she was shoved roughly to the side, the terror in Senjuro’s eyes burned into her mind. She collapsed to the ground as Senjuro screamed and was grabbed and thrown into the air. His body hit a tree with a sickening crack, and then fell through the branches until it landed in a crumpled pile on with a wet thud.

Nezuko ignored the rumbling behind her and the sound of the demon growling as it threw the remaining trees that had collapsed on it. She only stared at where Senjuro had landed, wet leaves and mud covering him as if he had been playing in the rain like the child he was. She couldn’t see his face with how it was turned away from her and what condition he was in without the help of the lightning.

She waited for him to get up, give her a sign that they needed to run and come up with a new plan or something.

But he didn’t move.

It was only then that she noticed the blood pooling from the back of his head and how still his one outstretched hand had become.

Nezuko whimpered.

“Senjuro?”

The dark haired teen burst out of the orchard, and was stunned by what he saw.

The yellow-haired boy was slashing at the pale white demon with multiple arms. He moved with a skill the teen had never seen him use before, destroying whatever limbs tried to get close to him.

At the same time, the other demon with the orange-tipped hair was screaming at them from a distance. It kept ripping out small, tied-up sections of its hair and throwing them as they morphed into orange balls that exploded on impact. They left small craters in the ground and even felled a few trees nearby, but those were the result of the boy deflecting the ones he couldn’t dodge.

The teen didn’t move, only able to watch as the boy kept both demons at bay and was fighting with all the experience of a seasoned swordsman. But he was still struggling, his movements somewhat jerky as if he had broken bones and blood seeping through his obnoxiously yellow kimono. At one point, the teen could see his face, and noticed that he kept his eyes shut tightly, fresh blood still dripping down from them like tears.

He had to do something. He had to get his sword and try.

The teen took a step forward.

“Enough.”

It all happened in a second.

The taller demon of the three materialized right behind the boy.

The boy turned toward the greater being and lunged at him with a technique, not a trace of hesitation.

The demon withdrew its own sword and strook.

There was a huge shockwave released that knocked the teen to the ground and blew back the orchard trees as if a hurricane were trying to mow down whatever was in its path.

And then there was quiet.

The teen struggled to catch his breath, but when he finally did, he scrambled to his feet and found his sword had been blown near him. He grabbed it and ran at the demons ahead without another thought.

The hair demon and the arm demon appeared disoriented by the blast. The hair demon saw the teen first and tried to grab for another explosive, but stumbled and appeared paler than before. The teen used a technique and quickly decapitated the demon in a flash of lightning, its body crumpling to the ground before disintegrating.

The teen turned to face the arm demon, but came to the same realization as it did when he looked around.

The third demon and the boy were gone.

They were alone.

“Fuck,” the arm demon whispered. Its eyes, which were now an amber gold, kind of brown (which was weird, wait…) widened in fear upon seeing that it was all alone. Then louder, it cried, “Fuck!”

The demon turned tail and ran like the coward it was. The teen didn’t bother to follow it, not when he could see the sky starting to turn pink with the rising sun. The demon surely would burn up before it could get far.

The teen then noticed on the ground his broken necklace, the cord snapped and the pendant now having blue crack markings over the yellow. He picked it up, surveying the damage done and felt his hand start shaking again.

It was still sticky with blood.

Blood that was never coming off no matter how many times he tried to rid himself of it.

He didn’t care as his sword slipped through his fingers, and then the pendant.

What…had he just let happen?

The teen fell to his knees, and stayed like that, even when the sun fully came up and the other members of the Corps finally came.

“Senjuro, get up.”

Nezuko lifted herself up on shaky arms, some of her messy hair falling in tangled curtains over her face. A familiar numbness flooded her body, nearly completely dulling the pain in her left side. Her gaze didn’t care for the demon that had freed itself from the fallen trees.

“S-Senjuro. This isn’t funny.” Nezuko could feel her voice shaking, something paper thin in her tone that had never been there before. “Get up. Now, please, just…get up now.”

He didn’t move. The boy laid in the rain, as still as one of the fallen trees the demon had taken down. Dead to the world.

No, not dead. He wasn’t dead.

No, no no he wasn’t.

No, no no nononononononononono–

“Senjuro!” Nezuko was screaming at this point, her voice breaking and the hysteria growing with each of her cries. “Senjuro! Get up! Get up right now, Senjuro! Please, please! JUST GET UP PLEASE–!”

A shadow fell over her.

Nezuko felt her voice die in her throat as she slowly turned to face the monster staring her down from above. The panic and horror were still running rampant in her veins, her heartbeat thumping violently against her chest in a way that made it hurt to breathe. Her hand found her sword as she quickly stood, but she made no move to properly hold it defensively.

“Foolish girl. Did you honestly think someone as weak as him was going to live?” The evil smiles on the tentacle demon stretched wide at her display of fear. “Don’t worry, you’ll be joining him in the afterlife fairly soon with the others I’ve killed and devoured. Be sure to tell him how useless his attempts to kill me were.”

Another barrage of hands were released and went straight for Nezuko.

But as they moved, it was as though time came to a slow.

Nezuko stared at the incoming limbs, at the demon looming over her with overwhelming power and ready to kill her along with the boy who she had spent a week traveling and bonding with.

Right then and there, she found herself staring back at the face of an evil that would continue to murder and eat innocent children just to grow stronger. Even after her death, Nezuko and Senjuro wouldn’t be its last victims, and it would keep shedding blood until it was strong enough to escape the mountain and continue doing this to others.

Nothing was going to change unless someone killed this demon.

Until she killed this demon.

Her hand shook, and that familiar anxiety at her own two hands taking life began to creep up on her, but she immediately shut that down.

Those other demons I let go, maybe they went on to kill others because I didn’t.

This demon killed–hurt Senjuro because I couldn’t handle the idea of properly fighting up to this creature.

And Zenitsu…he was mocked, tortured, and killed by this demon.

They were my friends, and I didn’t stand up for them against the demon when they did so much to get me this far.

Nezuko had to end this cycle of blood and death.

She had to do it, avenge all those lives lost to the cruelty of this monster and protect the ones it had yet to take.

I have to kill this demon right here and now.

And suddenly, all of Nezuko’s fears, anxieties, secondhand-thoughts she had about lifting her blade to kill another living, breathing creature faded. The painful grip they had on her loosened, allowing her to breathe and steady her hand and face her opponent with all the confidence she had in the lightning fields.

Time resumed, and Nezuko put herself into a proper stance.

Thunder Breathing, Second Form: Rice Spirit!

The five arched strikes of her blade created an opening that destroyed the arms and allowed her to charge the demon. She barely registered the demon’s shock at her bold act before sending more arms and tentacles to snatch her. She just kept running closer and slicing and blocking when needed, just like with the running course.

Just keep going! Don’t stop for even a second!

“What do you think you’re doing?!” The demon cried. It tried scrambling back, but Nezuko was cutting its limbs at a pace that was faster than it must have anticipated. “Stop! Stop! Just give up and die already!”

Limbs sprouted from its chest and shoulders, shooting down at her and casting terrifying shadows. But Nezuko wasn’t scared of them anymore.

Thunder Breathing, Fifth Form: Heat Lightning!

Nezuko lunged forward and jumped at the last minute, delivering an upward slash that severed most of the limbs except for one that she used as an impromptu ramp to run at the demon.

The demon’s eyes widened and it made a sound of panic at how close she was getting. And why.

Kuwajima watched as Nezuko practiced slicing a few targets, successfully cutting them diagonally. He nodded in approval.

“Good, make sure you keep visualizing the path of your blade as you face your opponent.”

“Like, a line?” Nezuko asked, looking back briefly as she prepared another practiced strike.

The old man shrugged. “Could be, if that’s what works for you. It differs for everyone, but I suppose a line makes sense for now. Just make sure that no matter what you choose, you keep in mind your goal of where you need to attack.”

Nezuko nodded, readying her sword and striking her target. Without a problem, its head fell off and the girl gave her headless dummy a triumphant smile.

Without a doubt, the most important place to strike a demon was their neck.

The only way to kill a demon properly.

“Get back!” The demon’s main six arms hovered protectively above its shoulders, protecting its face and neck like a barricade of undead flesh. But Nezuko didn’t stop running.

Thunder Breathing, Sixth Form: Rumble and Flash!

Nezuko put all her strength into her lunge, shooting forward and rapidly delivered a series of diagonal strikes until the arms had been reduced to tiny shreds of flesh. She pulled her blade the moment she saw the demon’s exposed neck, ready to end it all, but had forgotten about the tiny infant-like hands attached to the sides of the demon’s head.

They grew longer and tried to grab at her, but Nezuko at the last minute stopped herself and used the momentum of the limb she was on to backflip out of their reach. The six hands still needed time to regenerate, but she didn’t know how long as she landed against a tree still standing and prepared herself to use as a backboard for another breathing technique.

Thunder Breathing, First Form…

“Hah! Good luck slicing my neck!” the demon gloated, tiny arms waving protectively around its face while other damaged limbs started to heal themselves. “No one has been able to cut it. You won’t be able to hit me before my strongest arms regenerate! You’re the one that’s going to end up losing your–”

BOOM

Thunderclap and Flash!

The exact moment Nezuko unleashed her attack, a bolt of lightning struck the tree she was pushing herself off of. It was only for barely a second, maybe less, but the electricity connected with Nezuko’s foot the last moment it made contact with the wood.

A pink blur faster than what was humanly possible cleared the distance.

The metal of a blade sang in the air.

And Nezuko cut right through the demon’s neck.

Chapter Text

Eat, Eat, Eat…

The voice in the demon’s head kept repeating that mantra. He didn’t know anything else but those words, so he listened to them and kept eating.

Eat, Eat, Eat…

The demon, a small being with unnaturally pale white skin and tattered clothing, sat right outside one of the houses of the fishing village. Broken sculptures made of wood and fabric and other scraps and loose items, clearly the work of a child, were left littered around. Splatters of blood trailed outside, leading right to him and the two dead bodies.

Eat, Eat, Eat…

The woman was barely recognizable now, so the demon shoved her body away and set his attention on feasting ravenously on the man’s body. He didn’t care if he was getting blood all over his clothes and face, he just had to keep eating.

No matter how much some distant part of him felt disgusted by the action.

Eat, Eat, Eat—

Then, he felt a presence.

The demon lifted his head from his current meal, and found a man wearing a yellow-brown jinbei kimono with a white triangle pattern standing a small distance from him. An angry scowl rested on the stranger’s face, pulling at the pronged scar on his cheek. 

There was a yellow and silver sword in his hand, gripped tightly and trembling with an unrestrained rage that the demon could sense.

Like the looming threat of a thunderstorm about to pour down and strike.

RUN

The demon bolted down the main road. He could hear the swordsman’s footsteps behind him, closing in fast. The demon turned around and tried to parry some of the incoming strikes, but it was only by sheer good timing that he was avoiding his limbs from being sliced off completely and dodging the swordsman’s furious attacks.

One attack did manage to slice at the demon’s face, eliciting a cry of pain. He clutched at his eye and managed to land a surprise kick. The swordsman was pushed back with a grunt of surprise, giving the demon the chance to run again. He wove between the houses, passing other dead bodies and what were surely the remains of other demons that had been killing just like him before the angry man arrived.

A cold shiver of fear ran up his spine.

That swordsman killed them all, didn’t he?

What chance of survival did he have against someone like him?

The demon slid to a stop. He had reached the end of a long dock, nothing but the sea and its dark waves beyond. The demon growled and turned to run back the way he came—

Only to find the swordsman walking almost calmly toward him, the atmosphere darkening and crackling with an energy.

The demon took several steps back until the backs of his sandals were just beginning to hang off the edge. That cold shiver became more intense, filling his whole body with fear and just wishing that the swordsman would get it over with already. 

But no, the man was taking his time. A smile crept onto his face, making him appear more manic than before under the moonlight. He raised his sword, shifted his posture, and shot towards him like a bullet.

The demon raised his arms, took a step back, and—

CRACK

The wooden plank he was on gave out, and the moment before he had his neck cut, the demon fell into the water.

He didn’t waste the opportunity, immediately swimming away and praying that the crazy swordsman didn’t follow him.

The demon swore, right there and then, that if he got out of this mess and ever saw any swordsmen wearing that hideously patterned kimono, he would give them an incredibly painful death.

He would be better, find a way to get stronger, even if it meant eating and devouring hundreds of humans. Nothing would stand in his way…

Nothing would…

…

…

…

“Holy shit!”

Gyokko lurched back, arms held protectively in front of him for barely a second before they were cut off and he was left with bloody stumps. He shook out his limbs and stared in utter disbelief at what was right in front of him.

The boy who he was sure he had just killed minutes ago was standing, swaying on his feet. His yellow kimono was torn and practically red from the open wounds and blood and fragments of broken bones poking out.

And yet despite all that, even with rivers of red pouring from his closed eyes from which Gyokko had taken his memento of his latest victim, a stony anger was etched into his expression.

He suddenly remembered that cold shiver of fear…

And he hated it.

“You little brat,” Gyokko hissed, regrowing his arms as the kid somehow still managed to find the strength to move into a familiar stance and grip his sword. “I should have just snapped your neck when I had the chance.”

The boy didn’t answer. He lunged and started slicing at a rapid pace that Gyokko was barely able to keep up with. The demon tried to keep his distance, but the annoying brat kept getting closer and closer, all while attacking with a fury he didn’t recognize. Even with Kamanue’s help of throwing his explosives, the boy didn’t let up for even a second.

A particularly well-aimed strike sent Gyokko to the ground, armless. He managed to manifest a few smaller limbs to scramble backwards, but he knew that his energy had all but depleted at this point.

The boy stood over him, his body twitching and trembling like a broken toy about to fall apart. And yet, he carried with him a presence that felt ready to consume and destroy him.

Dammit, this couldn’t be the end! He had sworn to get stronger, to destroy everything that damn swordsman cared about. He hadn’t gotten his revenge!

Dammit, dammit it all! He should have devoured more easy prey, like children! He just needed more fuel to grow his body, make it into something to be feared. He just needed another chance!

Another chance to—

“Enough.”

A shadow loomed over them. The boy turned to face the new opponent and attacked without hesitation.

The demon withdrew his sword and strook.

A burst of light exploded around them, blinding Gyokko. When it faded, he opened his brand new eyes and found the boy and the demon gone.

Where did they go?

Were they summoned back?

Was the boy…dead?

He must be. Or at the very least, about to die if he was being taken to that place—

The sound of metal meeting flesh, followed by a thump.

Gyokko shot to his feet, still disoriented by the blast and saw the other swordsmen they were thinking about taking back with them kill Kamanue. The dark-haired teenager faced Gyokko, ready to attack again.

“Fuck,” the demon whispered. He stumbled back, realizing at last that he was all alone and he wouldn’t win against this slayer. “Fuck!”

He turned tail and ran, not caring about how cowardly the act was. Footsteps didn’t follow him, but Gyokko kept shooting looks over his shoulder and praying to whatever deity took mercy on demons to let him live a bit longer, because this wasn’t the end, he couldn’t let it be the end!

No matter what, he had to survive or everything would be for naught!

So Gyokko just kept running, just kept running, just…

…

…

…

“What do you think you’re doing?!”

The girl kept slicing at the onslaught of limbs grabbing at her with a speed and focus that hadn’t existed before. Even when she had been losing it and letting her anger drive her, her reckless rage couldn’t hold a candle to the way she was attacking now.

Just like them.

“Stop! Stop!” Gyokko cried. He manifested more limbs on his chest and shoulders and had them attempt to tear her apart before she got too close. “Just give up and die already!”

The girl made a move that looked like she was going for another normal lunge, but at the last second jumped and angled her blade into an upward slash. The arms were cut-off, but one remained that she used to run toward his head, her grip already adjusting into something that was ready to slice his neck.

His body trembled, staring into the intensity of her pink gaze, no longer afraid or a mess of emotion. It was the same look, same feeling as those other ones…

That cold shiver gripped him…

And there was no more begging for another chance.

“Get back!” Gyokko crossed his six arms in front of his face. They were easily sliced away, but he grew out his smaller limbs around his head to grab at her or at least surprise her enough to disorient her. The girl seemed to realize that and used the momentum to backflip and land against a nearby tree.

She began to prepare another attack, but Gyokko could see the way her face cringed and her body twitched as if in agony. There was definitely more blood coming from her side, staining more of her cursed kimono with scarlet.

It was just like with the blond-haired brat. Her body was shutting down. One more good attack would leave her vulnerable enough to go for the kill.

This girl had no chance.

“Hah! Good luck slicing my neck!” Gyokko couldn’t help but gloat, putting all his energy into speeding up the recovery of his limbs. “No one has been able to cut it. You won’t be able to hit me before my strongest arms regenerate! You’re the one that’s going to end up losing your—”

BOOM

As if Raijin himself chose that exact moment to intervene, a bolt of lightning struck the tree the girl was pushing herself off of. The light consumed Gyokko’s vision, blinding him.

But he saw them…

The man with the angry smile…

The boy with the bloody tears…

And the girl with the pink shine to her hair—

—cut through his neck, sending it flying in the air before tumbling and rolling to the ground like an abandoned temari ball.

He watched in mute horror as his body, the one he spent so many years making stronger and turning into his ultimate masterpiece, crashed to the ground, lifeless, toppled over like one of the trees he knocked over. Some limbs immediately unraveled themselves from the body and fell limp while others scrabbled at the ground in an attempt to separate. A few did, but only managed a few feet before losing their strength and falling into twitching piles.

No No NO! This can’t be happening! Gyokko’s eyes darted around, looking for some way out of this mess and only finding his body and scattered limbs beginning to disintegrate. He could even feel the beginnings of his head turning to ash.

It wasn’t supposed to end like this! I was supposed to kill every last one of those damn thunder breathers and prove my worth! 

Master chose me to fulfill this duty. He saw my potential and knew I would get stronger! I can’t die!

Not to a pair of weak, pathetic children!

Gyokko’s frantic gaze stopped when it found the girl. She rose from the crouch had she landed in and sheathed her blade with a shaky hand. Lightning flashed behind her soaked form, somehow giving her hair faint pink highlights.

I can’t believe this brat is going to be the last thing I see before I die.

Gyokko could only muster a pitiful growl at the child. He tried to use his last bit of consciousness to force whatever leftover limbs remained to grab at her, do something to her before he died. He refused to just let himself lay on the ground and just disappear when he could still move.

She had to pay, somehow. He had to make her suffer more, do more, anything to stop this pain. Because he had to, he needed to, he—

The girl turned around.

A raw hatred burned in her dulled eyes. She stared down at him as though he were the worst creature to ever exist, as if he had stolen something of great value to her. Tears mixed with the rain pelting her, yet it did nothing to completely wash the blood and dirt off her face.

But there was something else in her expression. Was it…sadness? Defeat? Why would she be feeling such emotions? She won, got what she wanted; a victory over him. Wouldn’t she be gloating over her win? Cursing him with the last words he would ever hear before completely burning away?

And why was she crying? Over people that she barely knew who were weaker than her? Why would she feel sadness over—?

No, wait.

It wasn’t sadness.

It was grief.

Anger and grief that mixed together to dull whatever light remained in her.

It was the same look that the man from the first time had been wearing.

That the boy must have been feeling.

That she was now experiencing.

The girl gave his body a final look, staring at his mass of arms and tentacles pitifully reaching out to her. That look in her eyes hardened, and she turned away, shuffling through the straggling limbs still attempting to cling to her.

One hand did manage to reach her, barely tugging her leg before falling apart.

And suddenly, there was a voice in his head.

“—elp me pl—”

Nezuko stumbled to a halt and sharply turned around. Her gaze swept the clearing, but found herself alone save for the decaying demon.

Who said that?

…Maybe her exhaustion was finally catching up to her and she was just hearing things now.

Just leave, she told herself. The girl shook her head and continued limping away. Just go, just…forget about that monster...and let it die.

Find…have to find Senjuro…

Make sure he’s okay…

Because he…Because he has to be…

He’s no…he can’t be…

Don’t be d—

Something brushed against her ankle.

“ —rry, I’m sorry…Why did I do—?”

This time Nezuko grabbed the hilt of her blade and moved into a clumsy stance. But again, there was no one there.

Must really be hearing things.

She released her hold on her blade and took a step back, only to find a small cluster of ashes clinging to her pant leg. Vaguely, she recognized it as what must have been one of the demon’s hands. Though it now resembled a disfigured clump of flesh falling and breaking apart into nothing.

Did that voice…belong to the demon?

No, there was no way, right? That didn’t sound like the tentacle demon’s voice. And why would it be apologizing after gloating about all of the sick and twisted things it had done to torture people?

Why would such a heartless creature be begging for forgiveness?

Maybe it was one of the demon’s victims, their spirit remembering their last moments. The demon did mention having eaten a large number of people before their encounter.

But it was one voice, apologizing—

Or maybe it was just a hallucination as a result of her pain and injuries. Something she should just ignore and put away her own feelings about.

Then why those words? Why so specific with that voice and twice in a row—?

Or maybe, maybe…

Maybe deep down, it really was...

Nezuko turned back to the fallen body belonging to the demon. Hands still reaching out even with the amount of decay rapidly spreading.

She just wanted to walk away. To put this moment behind her, even if it would surely haunt her nightmares once she left the mountain and to get out of here and just go home…

But a part of her couldn’t ignore that voice. And how scared it sounded.

She had to know…

Nezuko slowly made her way through the field of disintegrating limbs and ashes to where the main body had collapsed. Crumbling hands and tentacles weakly waved in the air as if grasping for something that would save them. But she kept moving, pushing through while trying to ignore whenever one of them brushed or grabbed her in weak grasp.

And yet, every time one did manage to get a hold of her briefly before burning away, she heard that voice.

“—hy did I do it? Why—?”

“—op, it hurts, make it stop—?”

“Help m—”

“—ate them, my parents. Why did I—?”

Her feet stopped right before the fallen body. Up close, it appeared less humanoid, more a mess of arms and tentacles of varying sizes all forcibly stuck onto a torso with no rhyme or reason in mind. It seemed more the work of a child than a malevolent demon.

“You have such a sad spirit,” Nezuko whispered to herself. 

This close, without even needing to touch the demon, she could feel the agony and sorrow and regret lingering from the body. Like candle smoke, slowly filling the air as whatever physical presence the demon tried to hang onto burned away.

Another hand briefly seized her wrist before disappearing, and this time, the voice was clearer.

“Mommy, Daddy, I just want you to hold my hand. Please, I’m scared.”

She stared at the one large hand that had yet to fully disappear, limp but still struggling to stop the progression of ashes flaking off of its pale white skin. She could still feel its stolen eyes watching her from where the head was lying in the muddy ground.

Did the demon…whoever this was…just want someone to comfort it in death?

Her thoughts suddenly drifted to a clear night, surrounded by familiar trees while a sweet wind blew through the peach blossoms. She must have been alone the whole time, laying there in the cool grass, and yet, perhaps she hadn’t been. Not when her memories were filled with conversations and reassurances and peace.

And a boy who had only one wish in that moment, and when he couldn’t voice it himself, Nezuko did.

“Do you want to hold my hand?”

Nezuko reached forward and carefully held the demon’s last remaining hand in both of hers. She closed her eyes and brought the monster’s hand to her forehead.

Her eyes opened to darkness.

Nezuko didn’t know where she was. Simply in an endless abyss of black as far as the eye could see.

But then she heard faint crying in the distance. It sounded exactly like the voice in her head.

She followed the sound, noting that her side didn’t hurt and none of her injuries were present on her now clean kimono.

But her sword was gone, and her hair felt a bit longer, like it had been before Final Selection started. It was strange, but not in an unnatural sort of way that made her apprehensive about her situation.

Somehow, a part of her knew that she would be fine. There was nothing for her to fear.

The faint sobbing continued to grow until she could make out someone ahead. She hurried her pace, stopping a few feet from the source.

A little boy curled up on the ground.

Where did he come from?

“Are you okay?” Nezuko asked softly, a slight echo to her voice.

The boy jumped, looking at her with a gaze full of fear. She carefully knelt in front of him, gauging his reaction. “What are you doing here? Are you lost?”

The little boy stared at her a beat. Then his eyes welled with tears again.

“I-I’m sorry!” he cried, hiding his face in his knees. “I-I hurt them. I hurt all of them. I don’t want to hurt them anymore.” He hiccuped and then wailed, “I want Mommy and Daddy, but they’re gone because I ate them! Why did I hurt them? Why did I kill my Mommy and Daddy?”

Nezuko listened to the boy cry, helpless as she watched him beg and call for a family that wouldn’t be able to find him. She looked around, seeing nothing but the endless darkness surrounding them.

What could she do?

Was there anything she could do?

…

…

…

Yes, there was.

“It’s okay.”

The boy lifted his head again, his face blotchy and tears still streaming down his face. Nezuko smiled and gently wiped away one of his tears. “I know it’s scary, but you don’t have to be alone anymore.” She  then stood and held out her hand. “Come with me. Let’s go find your parents.”

The little boy didn’t move, staring at her hand, then at her like she might disappear and leave him all alone again. But she didn’t move.

She waited for him, until he finally wiped his eyes and a bit of light had returned to them.

The child then reached forward and grasped her hand.

Gyokko’s–no, Managi’s eyes widened, and the tears he was never allowed to shed decades ago finally fell.

Her hands were so warm.

And he finally allowed his head and body to turn to ash.

The wooden floor creaked.

And there was a whisper.

“Goodbye, Gramps.”

Jigoro snapped his head up. He scanned the room, but no one was here except the two of them.

Just the two of them.

But that sounded like…

“What?”

“Nothing. Just…thought I heard someone leave.”

A pause, then a scoff. “Well, you’re getting old, maybe that’s why your ears are playing tricks on you.”

“...Maybe you’re right.”

Maybe he was getting too old for this.

He just hoped…prayed things would be different.

Because he wasn’t sure he could handle one more heartbreak.

Gradually, the darkness faded as they walked.

Houses materialized in the distance, and a clear night sky filled with stars stretched above them. Their footsteps began to echo as they walked along a dock, water lapping at the wood below their feet.

Torches lit their path, casting shadows that danced but never stood in the way of the girl and little boy. They wandered for what could have been minutes or hours, but eventually, Nezuko could make out two figures walking in front of them.

She couldn’t tell who they were with how far away they were, but her small companion recognized them immediately.

“Mommy! Daddy!” the little boy cried.

He released his grip on Nezuko’s hand and ran ahead to the man and woman. They stopped, kneeling to embrace the child.

“Can we go home now?” the boy asked. “Please?”

The man nodded, allowing the child to hold his and the woman’s hand. She did look over her shoulder, sorrow and relief in her eyes being illuminated by the lantern fire as she whispered, “Thank you.”

Nezuko nodded. The couple took that as their cue to continue walking down the dock, the forms of the reunited family slowly disappearing until they vanished. All alone, she allowed a hand to drift toward her chest to where her heart was, clutching the white and gold fabric tightly.

She closed her eyes, allowing the fragments of the child’s spirit to cling to her before fading with him. The remnants of his memories floated in and out of focus in her mind like petals dancing in the wind before being carried away.

There was laughter, joy in playing in the water.

Eating meals and talking walks down the street together.

Being put to bed by two loving parents.

All that taken away by a dark shadow with blood red eyes that made everything hurt for decades to come.

…She knew who that boy was.

And he wasn’t a monster.

God, please, she prayed. Let them be okay.

I…I know that demon did terrible things. That creature shed so much innocent blood, destroyed so many lives. But it—he was a child. He didn’t have anyone to save him, and all he wanted was for this stop.

Please, please don’t let him be reborn as a demon.

He never deserved any of this.

Please, watch over him as he finds passage into the next life.

There was a shift, and the sound of water faded.

Nezuko opened her eyes, and saw a bright light before her in the distance. She turned around, finding a large group of humans standing behind her. Some were adults, but most of them were teenagers, probably no older than sixteen, and children, the youngest having to be at least five or six.

They’ve been waiting all this time.

And now it’s finally over.

“You can go,” Nezuko told them. “The demon…he’s been put to rest. You can go home now.”

At first, no one moved. Then one by one, the souls of the demon’s victims began to make their way past Nezuko, towards the light. Some were quick to chase the light while others took their time. A few even went at a slower pace than necessary, all to make sure each of the youngest souls had someone to hold their hand.

They never acknowledged her presence, but as they passed, the girl could sense faint traces of gratitude and relief coming off them in clear ripples. It was almost peaceful to watch as those lost souls found their light and where they could finally rest. 

And soon enough, there was one person left.

He had his back turned away from her, from the light, staring ahead at the oppressive darkness that lay ahead.

Nezuko walked toward him, stopping when she was only an arms length away from him. Like the others, he didn’t move or make any indication that he knew she was there. But somehow, she knew that he knew.

There’s so much I want to say to you. So much I want to ask. But I think, in a way, I understand now why you never said anything.

It’s painful, remembering everything. Acknowledging the bad and that you were hurt in a way that you were helpless to stop. And still barely understanding how to move forward after all of that.

I’m sorry, I’m so sorry that it took me so long to figure everything out.

“Aren't you going to follow them?” was what she eventually decided on saying.

He didn’t respond, leaving her in silence. But then something in his posture changed, and he shook his head.

“I don’t think I can.”

“Y-You can!” Nezuko took a step forward and held out her hand, ready to do for him what she did for the demon just moments ago. “You can rest now. It’s okay, I promise, just come with me.”

Please, please let this be one promise I can keep.

He finally turned around, his honey brown eyes free of tears, just barely shining like a light fighting for life in the dark. He wore the same melancholy yet happy smile from the lightning fields, leaving a familiar warmth in her.

It was a smile too old for someone so young.

“Promise me something, Nezuko.”

Nezuko’s hand fell to her side, her voice shaky as she responded. “Anything.”

“Don’t forget me.” He took a step back, then another. “I…I know that sounds selfish, but the next time we meet, I might not...” he trailed off, frowning and his hands clenching at the sleeves of his yellow kimono. “I can’t forget you, or Gramps, or even…I won’t forget, but if I do...just, please, don't let me—”

“I promise,” Nezuko interrupted his rambling. “I swear, I’ll never forget you and everything you did for me. And neither will Sensei, okay?”

He blinked several times at her, then nodded, a more genuine smile on his face. “Yeah, okay.”

With that, he turned around, closing his eyes and sighing as if a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He then walked off into the endless darkness before him, saying one last whisper that she nearly missed.

“See you later, Nezuko.”

No, don’t let him go.

This isn’t right.

If you let him go now, he might not—

“W-Wait!”

Nezuko’s feet moved before she could stop herself. She knew, deep down like all those other times. She didn’t know why, but she just knew…

She couldn’t let him go.

“Come back!” She ran after him, even when her spirit began to waver and the pain of her injuries were beginning to creep back onto her body. She pushed herself, even as his yellow hair and kimono began to fade into the darkness in a way that was different from the other souls. “I-I’m sorry! Why are you going that way? Come back, please don’t leave me again!”

She was closer, a sense of foreboding and uncomfortable heat pushing against her. Other sensations of pain were coming back to her, the ache in her side starting to pull her down like an anchor.

Whatever is doing this, don’t take my friend away from me. Not him too.

“Please!”

Nezuko reached for him, her fingers just about to graze the back of his kimono—

It was raining.

Nezuko collapsed onto her knees. The body of the demon had finally finished fading, its ashes flickering and floating around her like butterflies in the rain before disappearing. Any traces of the demon had finally gone, leaving only the destroyed deserted clearing.

She stared wide-eyed at the wet dirt, panting, her face wet. It took a moment for her to realize that her hands were digging into the mud, deep enough that her fingers were cold and her nails ached from the dirt she knew was buried beneath them.

Deep, as if they had been trying to grab something.

Nezuko slowly unclenched them, bringing them to her face. Her vision blurred and her hands shook, but she couldn’t look away from the mud and blood they were covered in.

She couldn’t tell anymore if it was her own blood or someone else’s.

Did it even matter?

…She didn’t know anymore.

Nezuko blinked, and she found herself on her feet, head numb and body cold, staggering toward one of the larger trees still standing. Whatever energy she had left, the girl used it to force one foot in front of the other toward the lone body still laying in the soaking grass and blood.

It didn’t matter that her head felt like it was covered in a fog or that the fractured presence of the demon and the souls and Zenitsu were still clinging to her like her ruined soaking kimono.

She had to make sure…her friend was…

That he wasn’t…

Her knees gave out on her, and she collapsed in front of him. He hadn’t moved since being thrown, the blood mixing into the mud and turning it a sickly burgundy in the faint flashes from the sky. His body wasn’t even shivering from the rain soaking his hair and clothes.

Gods, please no…

She laid a trembling hand on his back, right where the red of his sunset patterned kimono faded to yellow. She willed her hazy mind to find his spirit, to ignore how cold he had become since that must have been the rain and not the result of the large amount of blood on the ground. She ignored it, pushed herself to find it, to please find it—

But nothing.

She was too tired, too cold, too numb and filled with grief she wasn’t sure was her own. It was like grasping in the dark, and she couldn’t find his spirit.

It was gone.

And it was all her fault.

“I’m sorry,” Nezuko whispered, her voice trembling. She pulled herself closer to Senjuro’s body, her grip tightening and burying her face into the wet cloth. “I’m sorry. I’m…I-I’m—” she hiccuped, her voice trembling as she continued to murmur soon-to-be forgotten apologies. “ I’m so sorry. ”

And with the rain pouring above them, the blood from her side slowly staining the ground red, and finally releasing some of the sadness and grief within her, Nezuko Kamado laid next to her friend, crying until the last of her tears were shed and her energy dissipated.

At last, with nothing left to fight, nothing left to save, Nezuko Kamado was finally able to rest.

Demon Slayer: Children of Fuschia Light and Demon Fire

Cruelty, Unwavering Resolve, and Final Selection Arcs

Complete

Epilogue

Three Drops of Blood

I.

10 Years Ago…

The sound of a soft flute song echoed within the Infinity Castle.

He opened his eyes and fell into a kneel with natural ease. There were some murmurs from the other six, but seconds later they too followed His lead and prostrated themselves before their Master.

He waited patiently for their Master to speak, having become familiar with this song and dance for centuries now. He could sense the anxiety and fidgeting coming from the two demons behind, the barely restrained, crackling rage from the male demon on his right, and the cool yet almost serene aura radiating off the female demon to his left.

None of their ranks had been lost. The momentary soft hissing and the faint yet irritating scent of wisteria were enough to indicate that the other two he couldn’t see from his position were here.

Which meant that this had to be related to sudden news regarding their enemies.

“It has come to my attention that the current head of the Demon Slayer Corps has taken his own life two days ago. There have been rumors since then that he has left no male heirs to succeed his position, and after much careful observation and confirmation from trusted sources, I can confirm this. As of right now, the demon slayers have no master.”

This was indeed an interesting development. And one that the Corps would surely wish to keep quiet until they could find a way to rectify the situation. Then again, how could they?

The last time something close to this happened, it was because of His actions. Though He had been generous enough to leave one heir alive (as a way of warning), it led to stricter measures being taken to hide their new masters. Which made finding where they now resided a nearly impossible task.

But if what Master said was true, then this was a once in a million opportunity to take advantage of a deadly weakness. It was simply a matter of what course of action they would be taking.

“Listen well and very carefully,” their Master continued. “I will not waste this chance to make those swordsmen suffer and weaken whatever strengths and glories they think they have over us. We may not find another opportunity for decades or centuries to come, and a handful of the ranks are long overdue to prove their undying loyalty to me as Kizuki.”

Little more than half of the assembled seven present were not quick enough to stop their wavering traces of unease at that last statement. Especially since there was no specification on whether or not it was being directed at the Lower or Upper Ranks.

Perhaps both was also left unsaid.

“Kill the hashira.”

The air turned cold, and everyone present (Himself included) felt their Master’s words reverberate in their minds as he spoke aloud.

“With their master gone, they will be the ones most likely looked to next for leadership and assurance. Which means that attacks on them and their deaths will hold devastating weight, continuing the cracks and slow decay that have begun to take hold in their organization.”

“It matters not if they are still active or have renounced their ways of the sword. They will all die for aligning themselves with our enemy. From this point onward, your only priority should be to put an end to the legacies of any and all swordsmen and their ways of destroying us.”

He could sense the lower ranks trying not to tremble at the deep, booming volume and pressure of their Master. It was hard not to when he chose to speak in a way that made the bones in your body rattle and blood boil as though on fire.

They were weak. They were not like Him, and perhaps the other two.

One found this amusing, the other listened with subdued yet cold attention.

“I don’t care by what means you choose to fulfill this task. The demons before me are the ones that I deemed as having the most use and purpose to this cause. Now is the time to prove that worth I saw in all of you to me the moment I laid eyes on your pathetic existence.”

“Failure, in any shape or regard, is unacceptable. Something better be gained for us, or there will be serious questioning as to why you are here in the first place. Have I made myself clear?”

Not a sound was made, but every demon knelt before their King knew better than to object to such clear orders.

“Excellent,” their Master rumbled. “You are all dismissed.”

The flute whistled, and shoji doors snapped shut as the wooden floors beneath Him turned to grass.

He lifted his head, finding Himself alone and back at the clearing He had been practicing his techniques in before being summoned. Despite the quiet of the night, the words of their Master continued ringing in His head.

Kill the hashira.

The Lower Ranks would find these words a daunting task. One they would believe to practically be a suicide mission. He supposed that may have contributed to the simmering intensity to their Master’s words, and possibly a prelude to punishment on their end if they did not begin to live up to the expectations brought upon them.

These words would surely make their way to those weaker demons, but for now, they were given to their Master’s strongest demons. The only ones capable of actually killing hashira swordsmen and growing their already tremendous power. 

But being the ones to instigate the hunt this time…

It was different, a slightly unique tone in how they should carry out their attacks from here on out. But still, an achievable goal.

There was more to their Master’s words than He could decipher at the present time. But Master had never been wrong in his course of action before. So, for now, He would abide by it.

And already, He had a few ideas on who to target first.

As silent as the night before Him, He rose to his feet, and left to begin His new mission.

II.

4 Years Ago…

Master had been quite pleased with the work of the demons since that night. They all had taken what he had said to heart, some more fearlessly and vindictive than others. But in the end, they all yielded ruthless results.

The supposed disappearance of the Flame Hashira following the rumored death of his Tsuguko.

The death of the last known Wind Breathing cultivator.

The eradication of at least sixty percent of all known Water Breathing cultivators.

The gruesome torture and painfully slow death of the Flower Hashira as well as all respective users of her breathing style.

He Himself had managed to wipe out many minor-branches of breath users while assisting in some of those major victories over the Corp as well. To Him, the only one of those that merited high praise was ending the Wind Breathing line, but there were still whispers about two possible swordsmen still practicing the technique that could not be found. 

Not to mention there was no confirmation on whether or not the Flame Hashira still had family. For many, they took his absence as proof enough. But as He and the other strongest demons knew, a victory only counted once there was a dead body. And He heard no news of one from the demon that “won” that battle.

He decided it was best to leave those tasks to those that still needed to prove the value of their existence to their Master.

Because tonight, He was going to end the Thunder Breathers once and for all.

It had taken a bit of time, but He had managed to track down the last known cultivator via a pupil that had started to build somewhat of a negative reputation among the slayers. This He learned after finding and threatening the information out of a few swordsmen before killing them. When He finally found this pupil, He learned of when the older teen would be visiting the undisclosed location of the former hashira.

It took a painstakingly long time, but He was able to confirm that these two were the last that practiced this breathing style, meaning that killing them would permanently end one of the oldest techniques supporting the demon slayers.

Master had been pleased at the news, and sent with Him two demons to do His bidding on this mission. He attempted to assure the Master that they were not necessary, that he could promise results without needing backup and distractions like the others had. But Master had insisted, explained the situation to Him, and amended his wording of the previous order that He take the “pathetic trash” with Him and see that they provide some use.

So right before they began following their target, He told the other two a lie. 

He claimed the Master had ordered them to work together to kill the former Roaring Pillar and his one disciple. That they were selected because they carried a potential their Master saw and completing the task at hand would reward them with more power. Lower Moon Six and the other (a weaker demon whose name He couldn't remember) were ecstatic at this news, ready for bloodshed and t follow his commands.

The truth was, they were chosen because the Master deemed them too weak and in need of removal.

They would most likely die fighting the swordsmen. Their strength just wouldn’t measure up to the power of an apprentice of a former-hashira and the retired man. This would essentially leave their jobs being to weaken the swordsman and hashira so He could go and kill them at their depleted strength. Not the most honorable way to cut down a swordsmen, but if it were Master’s orders, then there was no going against them.

And if the demons somehow managed to survive or even kill their targets, He was given full permission to kill them. After all, if the demons’ minds were already poisoned with the idea that working in groups were allowed, then (according to their Master) more issues would arise.

A controlled lie followed by a gruesome death, leaving the Upper Moons leading the attacks the sole survivors and victors. A system that, for the past six years, resulted in tipping the scales in the demon’s favors.

He may not have completely agreed with this tactic of ambushing, but if it gave Him the opportunity to fulfill their Master’s desires, then so be it.

He would not fail in his mission tonight.

And yet, He watched.

He watched as the thunder disciple, a teenager who spat fury and contempt and smug pride at the other two demons, became submissive the moment He drew his blade and cut the necklace around his neck.

He watched as the teen surrendered his blade and fell to his knees, pressing his forehead into the dirt and his entire body trembling with fear. 

He watched the spirit within the teen flicker in a familiar pattern, one He recognized all too well. Tainted with jealousy, but talented and overshadowed. It stirred something in Him, and he took pity.

He watched how the teen lifted his head in disbelief, but was quick to lift his hands to catch the liquid pooling from the cut He made on His hand. The other demons fidgeted restlessly, not sure what to make of His new orders yet knowing better than to object.

He watched as the teen carefully lifted the blood to his mouth, ready to accept a small fraction of His power, and then—

Another presence.

Another pupil.

Another soon-to-be victim.

He watched the boy with blond hair beg them to let the teen and the retired hashira go, to spare them. The boy kept repeating his words, stumbling and stuttering over them with no shame or care for his weakness in the hands of the powerful beings before him.

He watched with displeasure as the teen did nothing, said nothing, just stared at the ground pathetically where he had spilled the offered blood. A gift wasted on a coward in the end.

Kill them both.

He watched the thunder disciple scramble to his feet and shove the blond boy towards the demons.

He watched the teen run away like a wounded animal, a piece of prey fleeing from an apex predator until he disappeared into the trees. He would find him later, then.

He watched with detached investment as the demons attacked and tore the boy apart, blood and bone being toyed with unnecessarily. But He didn’t care, death would be death and it was best to let them have their needless fun now so they could do their job.

He watched until the boy stopped fighting, the demons letting his body drop to the ground and blood and tattered fabric pool around him like a poorly constructed sacrifice to the gods under the moonlight.

He watched the trees sway in the wind, the rustling leaves not loud enough to drown out the annoying laughter of the Lower Moon and the other demon whose name He had forgotten. He began making his way toward the treeline, ready to tell the others to do their job and kill—

The boom of thunder,

And POWER.

He turned and watched as Lower Six’s arm was severed from his body. The demon screamed and the other demon gawked at the sight of the boy standing on his feet, eyes closed and with a sword in hand.

He watched as the boy fought the two with a ferocity and precision He hadn’t seen since His time, since the first user of the Breath of Thunder. Not once did the boy led up, and the other two would not last much longer against him.

This boy was powerful,

Just like another swordsman he grew to hate.

And He HATED that.

Truly, unconditionally HATED that.

HATED, HATED, HATED HATED, HATED—

“Enough.”

He drew His sword and met the boy’s blade, creating a shockwave of energy that nearly left him blinded. 

His eyes widened.

That had never happened before.

How powerful was this child?

…

…

…

He grabbed the boy before their swords dislodged from each other.

Master, bring us back.

A flute trilled in the air, and they were gone.

Though He had returned that day not with the head of the former hashira nor news of his death, He retrieved with Him a corpse.

He knew the boy was dead the moment they had been summoned to the Infinity Castle. The boy’s sword clattered out of his hand and he no longer twitched in poorly concealed agony. His head lay to the side, the twin trails of blood from empty eye sockets staining the smooth wooden floor beneath him.

Despite the boy’s talent and strength he managed to preserve in his final hours, no one could withstand His attacks that close and live. He was doomed to death the moment he made contact with His blade.

He told their Master what He saw, what happened, what He sensed within the boy. Such power needed to be harnessed, and kept for the demons to use against the Corps. That this child was worth abandoning His mission.

Master asked Him what He thought they should do with the body before them.

He thought about the matter, realizing later that perhaps certain memories and emotions were guiding His hand more than logic. But He could not seem to relinquish the decision he chose to linger on.

Those two, not the demons, the teen and the child, they reminded Him of old jealousy and power unfairly gifted and used only to die within a mortal body. It left Him angry, dissatisfied, and reminded Him of that voice.

“Someday, children will be born into this world, and they will surpass us to go onto new heights.”

…Perhaps, there was some truth to those words.

So He made His request.

And after a period of silence, Master permitted it.

A lengthy discussion was had, but in the end, Master’s support was earned if it yielded results. It was an intriguing demand, one that He had argued would truly begin to tip the scales in their favor of an already weakened Corps.

Afterwards, He would later learn that Lower Six was killed, and the other forgotten demon had escaped and was captured shortly after. Most likely taken to the wisteria prison on a mountain to train new slayers. Master showed no worries, confident the demon would either die there or perhaps grow strong enough to prove himself.

The retired-hashira and the now newly-named Thunder Pillar would be carefully watched going forward. Perhaps, at a critical moment of weakness, the cowardly swordsman would stumble and the old man would pay for his selfishness.

But that was neither here nor there. Now, all He cared about was the body He knelt over before their Master, and the new cut He made on His hand.

He knew the transformation process would be slower than normal. There was something off about the boy’s spirit, something special that neither He nor the Master could fully understand. Even after Upper Moon Two gave their opinion on the matter, it was speculated that turning a corpse would take much longer, especially with the high chance that he may not even be reanimated.

Master had said that a current Kizuki had been successfully revived as a demon following death, but that the chances would be extremely slim for the boy. Especially when he learned part of his physical body had been assimilated into the runaway demon.

But perhaps one day, when the last traces of the boy’s physical human body had been destroyed along with that demon, a new being would be reborn for their cause.

The boy would be all His.

And He would finally get what He wanted.

Without another word, He dripped his blood into the boy’s mouth, and baptized what He hoped would be His first of many successors.

III.

Present Day…

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…Somewhere, in the depths of the Infinity Castle, a body shuddered and took its first breath in four years.

**********

Fanart

By swingstep (@swingstep on Tumblr)

Chapter Text

Nezuko knew she was back in that familiar darkness, all alone and lying on the ground. She didn’t bother to open her eyes or try to explore her surroundings. The heaviness of her exhaustion was too much to fight and all she wanted to do was rest.

Rest and forget…something. Everything, maybe, for a reason she couldn’t remember and felt best not to remember right now.

So why was she here?

Had her time come at last?

A warm, comforting hand rested on her shoulder.

“Nezuko.”

One she knew with aching familiarity.

Mom.

“My brave, sweet girl,” the voice whispered, full of love and sadness and pride. “I’m so sorry you’ve had to carry this burden all by yourself for so long. And that you still have a long journey ahead of you.”

I can’t, Mom. 

I tried, and I failed, and I let so many people down and get hurt because of it. I don’t know what to do.

I don’t think I can do this…

There were four other smaller presences nearby. They sat around her as the warm hand drifted to her head and soothingly ran familiar fingers through her hair.

“You will learn and continue to grow, that’s all you can do. I know you will succeed, but only as long as you refuse to give up. Remember, no matter what, we will always be watching over you, and be proud of everything you accomplish.”

The hand left, the remnants of its warmth still lingering. The voice leaned in closer to her.

“Watch over your brother, Nezuko. I promise, you won’t have to bear this burden alone anymore. Trust them, and don’t give up on them. Promise me that.”

…Okay, Mom. I’ll…I’ll try again.

A strand of her hair was pushed out of her face, and a soft kiss was pressed into her head.

“We love you, Nezuko. Never forget that.”

Nezuko sensed all five presences leaving. With a tiny bit of strength remaining, she lifted her head and watched as several figures walked away. The four smaller ones followed a taller one, fading to spirits as they followed the light up ahead.

But then the image of the tallest one began to blur, to shift into the visage of a younger woman with longer hair and a yellow-orange haori. The light gradually turned a purple hue and continued to distort the woman’s image.

Nezuko held her hand out, a vain attempt to reach the woman even as she became nothing more than a fading memory. But the woman stopped, and as the light was consuming her, she turned around and—

Nezuko awoke, her hand raised toward a violet sky.

She blinked several times, the blurriness fading and dark spots dancing her vision from the dappled light above her.

Where am I? She rubbed her face, her body aching as though she had spent several days tumbling down a rocky mountain. Flower petals were scattered on the ground and all over her clothes. Is this…wisteria?

She recognized that above her was a canopy of wisteria. The beautiful flowers allowed just enough sunlight to bathe the area a purple glow and dream-like calm.

Dream-like…just like her…

Wait, why was she somewhere with wisteria blooming above her?

The last thing she remembered was rain, and lightning, and fighting…a demon? Then passing out because—

Final Selection…

The demon attacking…

Holding it—his hand in death…

Seeing the souls leave…

Saying goodbye too…and then collapsing right by…

Senjuro’s body.

Nezuko gasped and sat up, regretting the action when it pulled at her side and squeezed her waist. It screamed in sharp pain and a familiar nausea and slight dizziness flooded her body. Nezuko groaned and hunched over herself with one hand hugging her side, fully expecting her fingers to meet torn fabric sticky with blood.

They did not.

Carefully, she unwound herself and peered at the wound. Long strips of fabric were tied several times around her waist, keeping in place larger pieces pressed tightly at the wounded site. She shifted them out of the way a bit, giving her a glimpse at slightly dirty but much cleaner than she expected bandages wrapped and stuffed at the afflicted area. All with a strong medicinal scent clinging to them.

Someone had treated her injury?

Who would be willing to not only take the time to bandage her wound, but also carry her what must have been a sizable distance to safety?

That’s when she heard a groan coming from her left side.

Nezuko stiffened, then slowly turned her head. And stared.

Because she found herself staring at Senjuro, who was laying on his side and facing her. Whose face and fingers twitched as pieces of sunlight broke through the violet trees above them and landed on him.

And when one purple petal drifted down and landed on his cheek, he groaned again and moved.

He moved.

Senjuro rubbed the petal away, prying bloodshot and somewhat puffy eyes open. He pushed himself on shaky arms to his knees, blearily rubbing at his eyes with his wrists since the sleeves of his kimono had been torn at his elbows.

He’s…alive?

Nezuko couldn’t find her voice. She could only stare as the boy she had thought had died slowly awoke with sluggish movements that were sure indicators that he was in pain. One hand rubbed the back of his head, wincing at the action and coming away with small bits of blood. He sighed, letting his hand and gaze fall to the ground and sagging as if a sudden weight had been pressed upon him.

He’s alive…

Senjuro finally looked up. Blinked twice at Nezuko sitting up and staring at him. Squinted, shook his head, and rubbed his eyes again.

Then he stopped, removed his hand, and his attention snapped back to her.

The two locked gazes, red and gold meeting dark pink. Neither one said a word, not daring to break the fragile silence as if uttering a single word would shatter the illusion.

But this wasn’t a vision or a dream. They both knew this, they knew it for sure! And yet…

Senjuro raised a shaky hand towards Nezuko. It felt like an eternity, or maybe barely a few seconds, but he left it hovering above her shoulder. It remained there, inches above the dirty white fabric as though afraid to touch her bruised and battered body.

The girl carefully took his hand, guiding it to rest on the side of her neck, right where her pulse was thrumming at a fast tempo beneath her skin. Nezuko didn’t let go, though. She kept her grip, shifting so her thumb laid right where the pulse point on his wrist was.

She could feel it, the frantic pattering that was a sure sign his heart was beating.

The coldness, the stillness from that night were gone.

And that small, flickering candle his spirit took the form of was still burning.

It was still there.

He was here, living and breathing and alive!

He was alive!

He was alive!

He’s alive! He’s—Say something! Anything! Tell him—

“You’re not dead.”

Nezuko blinked. She hadn’t said that.

“I…I thought…” Senjuro trailed off, eyes widening and desperate to commit every detail of her to memory. “I thought I…you didn’t…I couldn’t find your…I almost didn’t…” 

The hand on her neck was ripped away, covering his mouth a moment before grasping for sleeves that were no longer there and then running through his mud-covered hair. His eyes filled with tears and his mumbling suddenly turned to frantic sentences. “I almost didn’t take your body with me. I…I-I almost left you there. I–god, oh god! I can’t believe I almost…you were alive the whole time and I just gave up on you—Oh god what did I—I-I almost—oh god—”

Nezuko didn’t let him finish. She grabbed his elbow and pulled him into a tight hug. The boy’s body started violently trembling and his breathing became erratic until his stuttering dissolved in heavy sobbing.

She didn’t care about the way her body was twisting and pulling at her injured side. Or how his tears were soaking her shoulder and his grip on her was bruising her aching body. Nezuko sat there, tiredly staring ahead at the beautiful wisteria trees protecting them as Senjuro wailed apologies and held her tight enough that she could feel the beating of his heart pressed against her and the warmth from his body.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m…I-I’m— I’m so sorry!”

Nezuko didn’t dare let go. Just closed her eyes and allowed herself a little bit of peace at finally being able to hold onto someone she thought she had lost forever.

After managing to get Senjuro to calm down, Nezuko got the full story as to what had happened.

Apparently, Senjuro had woken up just as the rain had been letting up and dawn broke through the horizon. The boy had been extremely disoriented and had a blinding headache, but had completely disregarded that when he found Nezuko passed out next to him.

Her body had been frigid, covered in mud and blood and debris from her fight with the demon. The wound on her side had been torn out and left behind a massive puddle of blood on the ground, staining most of her kimono to the point that nearly the entire back had been turned red. 

It had been so much blood, too much blood. And with how cold and worn-down (and probably concussed) he had been at the time, the boy had thought…she had died.

(Thinking back on it, that’s probably the reason why Nezuko couldn’t find Senjuro’s spirit. She had been thrown around and took too many bad hits during her fight with the tentacle demon, so her rattled brain had been too disoriented to focus on what she was looking for.

That had to be the reason…She decided that would be the only reason.)

And yet, rather than abandon her body or attempt to bury her, with what little strength he had, Senjuro had carried her on his back the rest of the way up the mountain. To the base of the summit.

It hadn’t even been a long journey, barely an hour as they were apparently really close to the top. Once they reached the wisteria trees, Senjuro dressed her wound for what he thought would be the last time, tearing fabric from the hem of her kimono and the sleeves of his. Once that had been done, the boy had knelt by her side, attempting to give her a vigil before he passed out again and awoke to her staring at him.

She told him he didn’t have to do that. Probably shouldn’t have. Not when he should have been focusing on his own survival.

Senjuro said that after everything she did for him, it didn’t seem fair or just to lay her to rest in the darkness. Especially if there was the off-chance demons roaming the area spelled the blood and dug up her body. He didn’t know if it was possible, but he thought that maybe with her having made it so close to the end, the people running Final Selection could send her body back or give her a proper burial.

Now, though, he just seemed happy he didn’t abandon and leave her to the mercy of the demons.

After that, they didn’t waste any more time. Though she was leaning heavily on Senjuro and had to keep a hand braced against her side, Nezuko managed to hobble the rest of the way to the top of the mountain. It was a thankfully short distance, and soon enough the grove of wisteria trees thinned out. They passed a wooden arch, and entered into a sunlit empty clearing.

Empty, save for two swordsmen.

“Wait, where is everyone?” Nezuko looked around the clearing, but she couldn’t see anyone else nearby. “Shouldn’t there be more?”

Surely…there couldn’t have been only four survivors.

Senjuro didn’t appear surprised at all. “Actually, this is a pretty normal turnout.” He frowned, then let out a weary sigh. “Believe it or not, I think four is usually the biggest turnout.”

That was certainly a depressing thought. One that suddenly made Nezuko think of her encounter with the tentacle demon and hearing of the vast number of victims that had been claimed by its–his hands. And then seeing all of them in that space between the light and darkness, a majority being young swordsmen.

(She hadn’t told Senjuro about her encounter with the demon’s spirit. She wasn’t sure if there would ever be a good time to bring it up, but now didn’t seem like it. She wasn’t sure he would understand. Heck, she was still struggling with understanding what had happened.

But now wasn’t the time for that. Especially when she knew if she did continue to mull over what had happened, it would bring up more painful memories and a loss that would threaten to destroy the dam she was putting all her effort into keeping for the sake of her composure.)

It left a lingering unease and nausea in the pit of her stomach. Even if that demon hadn’t killed everyone else, that meant the twenty or so participants had died at the hands of other demons. To think that only four people managed to survive.

To think that Nezuko and Senjuro managed to survive…

Stop that! She mentally scolded herself. Not now! Focus on the fact that you guys made it. You can worry about everything else later.

Nezuko did recognize the two survivors already standing in the clearing. One was the scruffy-looking boy in the purple yukata and mohawk that she had accidentally bumped into before. He only gave her and Senjuro a passing glare before going back to staring ahead. The other was the girl in the short flowery kimono, missing the flowers that had been in her hair (though a few wisteria petals were caught in her locks). She didn’t even seem to notice their arrival, staring up at the sky with a dreamy expression.

Neither one of the two looked nearly as ragged and worn-down as Nezuko and Senjuro, though. It made the girl wonder whether they had somehow found another way up the mountain while avoiding the tentacle demon, or if the survivors had somehow passed them after passing out from the fight.

Well…maybe it’s best not to focus on that right now. At least they’re okay.

It didn’t take long for motion at the other side of the clearing to capture the attention of the four teenagers. The same three girls from the beginning of the week stood in the same arrangement under another arch. A table with a red cloth concealing its contents was behind them, along with something underneath it that was impossible to tell with how far away they were.

The mohawk boy and the flower girl were quick to shift their attention to the girls. Senjuro helped Nezuko to shuffle forward a little closer and once she was certain she could stand on her own two feet (at least for a little while), the girl removed her arm. The two still remained close to each other, but kept a small distance between them.

Like she had the first time, the brown-haired girl in the middle took a step forward and bowed to the group. “Welcome back, everyone. We congratulate each and every one of you on making it safely—”

“AAAAAAAHHHHHHH!”

The girl jerked up at the sudden cry, her perfectly blank face breaking for the first time in surprise. Everyone immediately spun toward the path leading into the clearing.

Nezuko’s heart fluttered painfully against her chest as she forced herself into a breathing form despite how much the action aggravated her side. Mohawk boy had a similar sentiment, actually unsheathing his blade and bearing his teeth like a wild animal. Senjuro’s breathing picked up as he grabbed at the gold and white material of Nezuko’s kimono. The flower girl was the only one who didn’t have a strong reaction, tilting her head at the archway and actually leaning toward the noise.

There was a sudden sound of rapid footsteps approaching them, followed by a cackling laughter growing louder by the second.

Could it be a demon that escaped? Nezuko couldn’t help but think. A headache and burning agony in her side and limbs reminded her that she was not in the condition to fight another battle. At least the other boy might be helpful. But how is this possible? Could a demon walk through a grove of wisteria and under the sun? Or maybe it’s something else. But what—?

“Stay away from me!”

A boy emerged from the dappled shadows and fell to the ground, flat on his face.

No one dared to move for a few seconds. Nezuko was about to suggest that maybe someone check on him when the boy suddenly gasped and scrambled to his feet.

He was honestly very plain-looking, resembling a majority of the other slayers that had taken Final Selection, with straight dark hair parted down the middle and slight dark marks under his black eyes as though he hadn’t gotten any sleep the entire week. He sported a white button-up shirt covered by a now tattered bluish-gray haori and dark pants, but didn’t seem to notice that he was missing a sandal.

“I made it?” he panted, eyes darting around the clearing and blinking in the bright sunlight. Once they landed on the group of four survivors, a relieved grin split across his face and he let out a long, slightly hysterical breath and allowed his body to sag forward heavily. “Oh thank god! I can’t believe I actually made it out of there. For a second there, I thought—”

“WAIT HOLD OOOOOOOOOON!”

Everyone once again tensed at the new voice, but the newcomer screamed and bolted the rest of the way across the clearing.

“Oh crud she followed me!” The boy ended up running to where Nezuko and Senjuro were, and before either of them had the chance to react, he grabbed Senjuro by the shoulders and maneuvered him so the taller boy was behind him. “She’s insane! Somehow that demon got past the wisteria and she’s after me! Someone do something!”

“Wha-wait, a demon?” Senjuro asked with a note of fear.

“Demon?” the flower girl whispered just loud enough. She still hadn’t drawn her sword, but took an interested step forward. “Shouldn’t be…No...”

“No, no, it’s a demon!” the boy pointed toward the entrance to the clearing. “I swear, she’ll be here any minute! Someone do something—”

There was a loud whoop! and another person jumped into the sunlight, arms raised in triumphant victory and a blinding smile on their face.

“I LIVE!”

It was a girl.

No, wait a minute.

Big lilac eyes. Red bead bracelets on her wrists. Tiny scars scattered all over her face.

I know her.

It wasn’t a demon.

It was the muscular girl that had approached Nezuko before Final Selection had started. She survived as well.

Nezuko allowed herself to relax and even feel a bit of relief at knowing that someone else had survived the terrible week they all had to fight through. However, that bit of calm melted away when she actually took in the state of the girl. When she did, Nezuko couldn’t help but let out her own yelp of surprise and stumbled back.

The girl was covered in blood.

Completely, utterly soaked in blood.

Her face, hair, and arms were painted bright red, cuts and scratches littering her arms. In fact, the sleeves of her kimono had been ripped off, exposing her sturdy arms all the way up to her shoulders. It was a miracle that some of her kimono still looked dark green and hadn’t turned completely black from the stains. 

Even her hair was a mess, having fallen out of the two buns and the left side cut to chin-length. The right side went down to her waist, left in a tangled mess of leaves and dried blood.

In all honesty, the girl looked as though she had spent more than a week living in the wilderness while quite literally fighting death. And by the looks of it, she must have won.

Had she faced a demon like the one Nezuko and Senjuro fought last night?

A nudge broke Nezuko from her focus on the girl’s appearance. She glanced to the side and saw it had been Senjuro, looking wildly uncomfortable and having no idea what to do. The other boy was still with them, and it took her a moment to realize that he and the muscular girl had been talking the entire time.

“You told me you were a demon!” the plain-looking boy cried when Nezuko finally tuned into their conversation. He pointed an accusing finger at the girl while still gripping Senjuro’s shoulder tightly. “That’s not the kind of thing you tell people after surviving a week in literal hell!”

The girl threw her head back and laughed. “Dude, I was in the literal wisteria chasing you around under sunlight. How could I be a demon?”

The boy finally took his hands off Senjuro and threw them in the air. “I don’t know! It’s just a messed up thing to say. I didn’t need you jumping out of the bushes and trying to scare me like that! Anyone would have been freaked out by that!” He then turned to Nezuko and Senjuro as though finally noticing their presence. “You guys would have been, right? I’m not the only crazy one here?”

In all honesty, if someone like her appeared and claimed to be a demon…I don’t think things would have ended okay.

Senjuro looked like he was about to answer, but was interrupted by the muscular girl’s gasp of surprise.

“No way! Golden girl and shy flame kid!” She swiftly made her way over to the two, not showing any signs of fatigue or exhaustion and growing more excited by the minute. “You guys lived! And here I thought neither of you was gonna make it past the third day at most!” The girl leaned in close, grinning brightly and her hands clenched into shaking fists as if it were taking everything in her not to start jumping up and down on the spot. “How was it? How many demons did you kill? Any of them really freaky? You guys look terrible, so it must have been huge ! Come on, tell me!”

This close, Nezuko could smell the copper and mud coming off of the other girl. It made the nausea that had started to settle in her stomach rear its ugly head again. She felt herself take another step back, heart beating faster and her own hands clenching tight enough her dirty nails dug painfully into her palms.

Why was this girl acting so carefree and nonchalant about the past week?

Didn’t she see the death and carnage that had taken place on the mountain? By the demons that lived there?

Did she not understand the gravity of the work they were now about to take on?

Could she not see based on looks alone that Nezuko and Senjuro had gone through (in the other boy’s words) literal hell to get back here?!

That they had gone through the horrifying experience of believing the other had died and they were at fault?

Was this…some kind of joke to her?

Residue from the tainted anger she experienced when the tentacle demon had been taunting her about Zenitsu’s death began to creep up again. Even with her exhaustion weighing her down like a heavy blanket and her side still screaming in barely contained pain, Nezuko felt a new energy thrumming in her blood. She gritted her teeth and felt her vision start to turn red, and then was about to say something she would probably regret but—

A hand rested on her shoulder.

And just as quickly as it came, all that anger and energy left her in one swift wave.

Nezuko took a sudden sharp breath and blinked. The girl was gone, and the hand belonged to Senjuro, his gaze soft and worried, yet understanding directed at her. When her attention focused on him, he tilted his head and frowned, the silent question of “Are you okay?” being asked.

Probably not…but best not to voice that right now.

She placed a hand on his and smiled, hoping it conveyed her appreciation of the small gesture. It must have, given the nod he gave her in return before releasing her shoulder.

Nezuko then scanned the clearing and saw that the mohawk boy and flower girl returned their attention to the front of the clearing where the three girls in purple were talking quietly amongst themselves. The plain-looking boy was closer to the flower girl’s side of the area, casting a glance at Nezuko and Senjuro before looking away as though scared to make eye-contact with the two.

The muscular girl was near mohawk boy’s side, playing with one of her bracelets. She also casted a look toward the two, but when she caught Nezuko’s gaze, she gave her a small, sheepish smile and awkward wave, mouthing what looked like a “sorry.” 

Oh…I guess I did say or do something and didn’t remember it.

A flash of embarrassment came over Nezuko, and suddenly she felt really bad about probably almost (or maybe she did) snapping at the girl. Even if she didn’t agree with her attitude on things, it wasn’t an excuse to be cruel.

What was I thinking? It’s probably better that the other survivors didn’t have to go through what Senjuro and I did last night.

Not wanting to leave things on a bad note, Nezuko put on what she hoped was an apologetic expression and gave her a subtle nod. The muscular girl’s eyes lit up and her smile and wave became more genuine. She then winked and turned back around, not another word more.

The three girls at the front must have sensed that whatever tension had broken over the group had resolved. Their whispering ceased and they all returned to staring at the group with perfectly composed faces. The brown haired girl once again stepped forward and bowed to the now six survivors.

“Welcome back, everyone,” she began once again, repeating every word from before up until she had been interrupted. “We congratulate each and every one of you on making it safely to the top of the mountain.”

The dark-haired girl on the right with the higher voice spoke next. “Now that you all passed Final Selection, each of you will be measured and issued a uniform.”

“After that, you’ll have your ranking engraved into the backs of your hands,” the deeper voice girl said. “For your reference, there are ten rankings in the Corps. They are as follows…”

The girl nodded to the other dark-haired child, and the two alternated between announcing each title.

“Kinoe.”

“Kinoto.”

“Hinoe.”

“Hinoto.”

“Tsuchinoe.”

“Tsuchinoto.”

“Kanoe.”

“Kanoto.”

“Mizunoe.”

“Mizunoto.”

The middle girl continued the obviously well-practiced speech when the other two finished. “As new members of the Demon Slayer Corp, you will all start at the lowest rank, Mizunoto. From there, as you receive missions, you will have the opportunity to rise in ranking to the highest position, Kinoe.”

Nezuko frowned at that, mentally going through the ten names and noticing there was one title that hadn’t been mentioned.

Didn’t that demon and Senjuro mention a ranking called a Hashira? Why wasn’t that listed with the others?

“Yeah, yeah, we get all that,” the mohawk boy suddenly interjected. A hint of an impatient snarl was in his voice. “What about our swords? We made it back alive, so we each get one, right?”

The girl on the left with the deeper voice nodded. “Yes, you will each be granted a color-changing katana blade as you are now Demon Slayers. However, it will take about ten to fifteen days for your weapons to be forged and delivered.”

The mohawk boy growled, clearly unhappy about the answer. “Are you serious?”

“Very,” the brown-haired girl replied pleasantly. “But more on that later.”

The girl nodded to the other two, and they took that as their cue to reach under the covered table. As the brown-haired girl moved to the side, the two look-alike girls retrieved a fairly large oval basket covered by a white cloth, each carrying a side to the edge of the steps and carefully setting it down.

“And now,” the brown-haired girl said as she shuffled back to her middle position, but this time behind the basket and two girls, “a very important moment in becoming a Demon Slayer.” She clapped her hands twice, and the other two removed the cloth with a dramatic flourish.

“Receiving your Kasugai Cats!”

Immediately several cats jumped out of the basket and ran toward the small group with a series of mewls. Everyone (minus the flower girl) had varying reactions of surprise as each furry creature darted from one person to the next, looking for their assigned owners. The plain-looking boy was the only one who gave a cry of surprise every time a cat went up to him or brushed against his legs.

Nezuko barely had time to process this before one of the cats padded up and sat right in front of her. It was a small calico cat with dappled orange and black patches covering its white body. Its amber eyes blinked at the girl, meowing softly and tilting its head as though Nezuko herself were the curious one.

It didn’t make any attempt to move along, so it must be hers.

“Hi, I’m Nezuko,” she said as she carefully knelt down and offered the cat her hand. She wasn’t sure if the cat could understand her or not, but she figured it was better to be polite and show the small animal it could trust her. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

The calico cautiously leaned forward and sniffed the girl’s knuckles. That was all it took for it to begin purring and rubbing itself against her hand. The cat didn’t waste another second and launched itself into Nezuko’s arms, leaving the girl to fumble until it climbed up her arm and perched itself on her shoulder like a bird.

“Careful!” Nezuko yelped (though she wasn’t sure if she was addressing the cat or herself) as she stood again and did her best not to topple over at the additional weight. A huff of laughter escaped her as the calico rubbed against her cheek to the point that Nezuko could practically feel the rumbling of its loud purrs.

In fact, Nezuko’s sole attention on her new furry friend nearly made her miss what the brown-haired girl said next.

“Your Kasugai Cats will primarily serve as messengers between you and other members of the Corps. They will be paired with you for the foreseeable future, so please be sure to take good care of them until the end of either of your times with us.”

I guess this means they’re like our partners for life. Nezuko ran a hand over the calico’s soft pelt, chuckling when she felt how much its body was vibrating from all the purring. For the first time since coming out of the mountain forest, the girl felt as though she could take a calm breath and her anxiety about everything simmered down. I’ll be sure to take good care of my Kasugai from here on out.

In a much better mood, Nezuko turned to Senjuro to show him her new companion and see what kind of Kasugai he got. However, to her confusion, she found him alone. His fingers kept playing with the baggy material of his hakama due to his short sleeves, and he kept looking around the clearing, still searching for where his cat may have wandered off or hidden.

But there were only four other cats, and each was currently greeting their new slayers. 

Was he just…not getting one?

Senjuro noticed her staring, and just like when he realized he ran out of food on the mountain, fixed his expression and posture into something that hid the disappointment in his eyes and slouch in his shoulders. 

“It’s fine, maybe they forgot,” he said with a tight, obviously forced smile. “Or…maybe I didn’t do enough on the mountain. It’s not that big of a deal.”

…Yeah, no way was she going to let this slide after the week they just had.

In fact, Nezuko was contemplating marching up to the girls in purple and demanding an explanation from them about why Senjuro was the only one not to receive a cat when she got an answer.

“Cheep! Cheep!”

Both jumped at the sound, and when they looked up, were met with a small bird chirping and flapping its tiny wings as if its life depended on it. Senjuro looked somewhat startled by it, but must have understood why it was hovering around him specifically and held out his hands. Sure enough, the bird landed in the boy’s cupped palms.

Nezuko peered closer at the bird, taking note of its brown, black, and white feathers. “I think…it’s a sparrow?”

“Yeah,” Senjuro breathed, golden and red eyes wide and intrigued by the small creature. It gave another series of chirps before jumping in alarm as Nezuko’s cat also leaned in to look at the bird. The calico meowed and twitched its whispers, but that was all it took for the poor bird to squeak (err, chirp?) in fear and flutter to the boy’s shoulder.

“Oh, it’s okay,” Senjuro reassured the frightened creature. “I think Nezuko’s Kasugai just wanted to say hello.” He gently caressed the side of its small head with a finger and a hesitant smile. “Hi, I guess…you’re my Kasugai…Sparrow? It’s nice to meet you.”

The sparrow allowed the boy to stroke its feathers, trilling in delight and flapping its wings in a way that resembled a little dance. Senjuro giggled at the action.

Nezuko couldn’t help her own smile as she watched her travel companion—her friend interact with the bird. For that moment, he didn’t seem weighed down by whatever anxiety and self-doubt had been allowed to wrap around him. He was just a kid her age enjoying himself.

She found herself hoping to see this side of him more often.

Unfortunately, the moment was quickly ruined.

“Who gives a damn about this crap!”

Nezuko and the survivors startled at the boy with the mohawk’s words. He stomped past the others, causing the cat he had been assigned (one with a black and gray mottled pelt) to hiss at him and its fur to stand on edge. Almost like it was matching its new slayer’s hostility.

 “I don’t care about getting some stupid cat!” He stalked right up to where the girls were standing, staring at them angrily. “I only care about getting my color-changing katana, not any of this useless shit!”

The girl on the left barely reacted to the anger being directed at her. “As I said before, your swords won’t be ready until approximately—”

“I don’t care!” 

The girl jumped at his tone, and to everyone’s collective horror, he grabbed the front of her purple kimono and brought her close to his face. He shook her as he continued to yell. 

“I want my sword! That’s the only reason I’m still here listening to your stupid speech.” He bared his teeth and tightened his hold on the fabric. “Give me my sword right now or else I’m gonna make you regret it!”

The plain-looking boy’s head glanced in a panic at the other survivors. “W-What should we do? Shouldn’t someone stop him?” His brown and black tabby cat sitting at his feet ignored him to keep napping.

The flower girl didn’t respond and continued to kneel and play with her tan-colored cat.

The muscular girl just looked disappointed at the angry boy, whispering under her breath, “Come on, Genya. Don’t be like that.” 

Her Kasugai (a broad-faced fluffy white cat) kept a sizable distance away from her while frantically licking itself as though it had been stained by her dripping blood.

Surprisingly, Senjuro was the only one of the group to speak up against the boy.

“W-What are you doing?!” he said in an alarmed tone, taking a small step forward. “Don’t you know who those children are? You could get in trouble, and she just said—”

“SHUT UP!” Mohawk boy whipped his head towards Senjuro and roared, “I DON’T NEED TO HEAR IT FROM SOME LUCKY BRAT WHO COULDN’T EVEN GET A REAL MESSENGER! BUTT OUT!”

Senjuro flinched back as though his words had physically hit him. Every part of his body became filled with tension as he hunched his shoulders and grabbed fistfuls of his hakama pants, staring at the ground with a look on his face as though he’d rather be anywhere but here. 

His sparrow chirped and jumped around frantically on his shoulder at his stressed yet somber expression.

“Don’t be sad!” The bird warbled in a voice only Nezuko could understand. “You were happy before! Don’t be sad!”

And Nezuko…

Nezuko couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

Maybe it was the fact that she was dead tired after countless nights of adrenaline and barely sleeping.

Maybe it was the fact that she was hungry and in pain and still feeling somewhat out of sorts from her battle with the demon.

Maybe it was the fact that she was still coming to terms with the fact that she finally KILLED something yesterday, and that she learned that it had been a little kid turned into a demon.

Or maybe it was as simple as seeing the first smile Senjuro had since being rescued and nearly dying being stolen by another kid who wasn’t good at paying attention.

All after having gone through the turmoil and soul-crushing guilt of having believed for a short time that she had been responsible for the death of her friend. All because she hesitated in killing a demon when that should have become second nature to her at that point.

Everything piled up, pressing against the dam that was keeping her composure in check up until now. It was certainly cracking, the anger and despair and chaos beginning to trickle out when she saw how many people didn’t make it and when the muscular girl asked about their experience as if they had gone through something as leisurely as a training exercise.

But right now…Nezuko could feel it about the break, hot fury simmering just beneath her skin as she watched the aggressive boy shake the Final Selection guide like a doll, and then yell at Senjuro as if he were a dog being punished for barking too loudly.

It reminded her of the last time she let herself snap and get truly angry years ago. During one of the Kamado’s trips down the mountain, Nezuko had witnessed a man yelling and scolding a kid harshly for accidentally bumping into him. The child had looked terrified and had even been injured, but could barely get an apology in during the man’s angry tirade.

Nezuko didn’t even think twice about stepping in to stop him, yelling herself and demanding the man be the one to apologize. It wasn’t long before the other adults saw the commotion and took action to break up the fight.

Looking back, Nezuko realized she probably hadn’t thought through her actions enough. A distant part of her mind knew that the man was angry enough he could have hit her, and that at some point, her younger brother Takeo had been silently (but fearfully) watching from behind her. It had been one of the few times her father had scolded her with a sternness he rarely used, telling her to be more cautious and not let her anger drive her so blindly.

She didn’t think twice before promising to be more careful. Anger was an emotion she rarely entertained and doubted would ever surface like that again.

Here and now, though, Nezuko disregarded all that. Her fists tightened once again and her teeth clenched, the taste of blood still on the tip of her tongue and something like a growl building in the back of her throat watching the boy go back to making his demands to the girl.

She refused to let another bully try and get his way just because he refused to wait two weeks for a sword.

Even if it meant breaking another promise to let those cracks in the dam spill some of that blind anger.

“Wha-Wait! Nezuko, where are you–?”

“Hm?”

“Holy shit! No, don't go fit that crazy guy!”

“Oh shit, yes! Fight! Fight! Fight!”

Nezuko’s feet were moving at a shaky yet determined pace. She ignored the black spots blurring her vision and marched across the clearing. He was so focused on his tirade against the defenseless girl that he didn’t even register Nezuko’s presence until she had grabbed his arm.

“Take your hand off of her. Right. Now.”

The boy’s eyes snapped over to Nezuko. They widened in disbelief for a moment, taking in the beaten and bloody state of her body. The hostility returned in a flash, though, as he leaned in closer to her face and growled. “Or what, huh? What are you going to do about it?”

“Come on, golden girl! Kick his ass!”

“No! Don’t goad her on!”

Nezuko stared the boy dead in the eye, finally noticing how his were a dark purple that reminded her a bit of some of the darker wisteria trees she passed. It was hard to really appreciate their color with how small his pupils were and the way his expression was etched into a snarl.

Her eyes dropped to the large, jagged scar stretching across the bridge of his nose. It was clearly years old, pulling tightly at his skin and making him appear more feral than he would have with just the foul attitude and scowl alone.

The scar was nothing like her brother’s burn from before he became a demon, and clearly looked like the result of a violent attack on him. Something that big had to be the result of a demon attack. But, the shape of the mark didn’t look like the work of claws. It was something…different.

Curious, Nezuko extended her senses to him, picking up the expected sharp anger and annoyance. But there were other more subtle feelings too, such as uncertainty and the traces of fear buried beneath a front of chaos and a twisting mess of other overwhelming emotions.

Yet, the mental image she came up with for angry’s soul wasn’t anything like an uncontrollable fire or a tumultuous hurricane. Instead, it was like a twisting tree, filled with large, overgrown branches and roots tangled into the ground.

It was an unsteady tree, trying to take root but unsure of how to grow properly. So it just did whatever it could to become stronger, even if it was hurting its chances for a healthy body.

Nezuko’s haze of anger lessened at that, a little more aware of the dirt and bruises and exhaustion on the boy in front of her.

What was his story? How did someone like him end up here of all places?

And why did those thoughts about his somewhat unstable aura worry her?

“Well?”

Nezuko’s grip tightened, and her eyes narrowed. Then, she spoke.

“I just want to go home.”

The boy’s eyes widened. “Hah?”

Nezuko let her gaze soften ever so slightly, taking a deep breath to gather her thoughts before speaking again. When she did, her tone ended up reflecting her exhausted state more than she thought it would.

“I’m tired. This was probably the worst week of my life, and I just want to go home.” Her gaze flickered to where she knew Senjuro was standing, then nodded to the other survivors in the clearing. “My friend and I nearly died. Everyone here is tired, hungry, and just wants to leave. We were told that we have to wait ten to fifteen days for our swords, so of course they aren’t going to be ready. I know you want to start being a demon slayer right away, but you’ll have to wait like everyone else.”

Mohawk boy's face morphed into one of confusion, unable to process her words. He shook his head and fixed another angry glare at her. “I don’t need to—”

“Please,” Nezuko said in a more subdued voice. “I just want to go home to my older brother.”

That stopped him. Shock rippled across his face and the arm she was holding shook. Something in his aura shifted at her words, the anger and chaos clearing a bit to unknowingly reveal something buried deep, deep within those twisted roots.

Longing.

Does that mean…he has someone waiting for him to?

So why was he making such a big deal out of the swords?

“Are you finished with your harassment?”

The quiet voice belonging to the brown-haired girl broke whatever spell Nezuko’s words had on their conversation. The two turned and found the other guides’ calm expressions were gone, replaced with cold glares leveled at the mohawk boy.

A shiver crept up Nezuko’s spine even though she wasn’t on the receiving end of them. She almost instinctively moved back, but remembered that she was still holding onto the arm grabbing the third girl.

The mohawk boy must have felt it too based on the uncomfortable (and almost apprehensive) look on his face. Thankfully, he seemed to get the message they were sending him and finally released his hold on the girl. 

The moment he did, her look-alike took her by the arm and pulled her to the other end of the covered table. The brown-haired girl gave the boy one last dark look before clearing her throat and composing herself once again. Her face of calm returned and she addressed the rest of the survivors still waiting around the clearing.

“Apologies for the interruption. We would now like everyone to please come forward as we finish attending to final matters.”

As everyone followed the girl’s instructions, Nezuko managed to catch mohawk boy’s eye. He gave Nezuko a weird look, flexing the hand that had been grabbed.

“What?” he snapped.

“Uh, nothing,” Nezuko said, giving him a small smile as the relief of not snapping and giving too much into her anger helped her to relax. “Just, thank you.”

She was just glad that she had managed to resolve the situation without resorting to violence like breaking his arm or something like that.

The boy didn’t say anything for a beat. Then, he rolled his eyes and turned away from her. “Whatever, you dumb bitch.”

Something cracked and burst open for just a second.

Nezuko blinked.

Took a deep breath…

And all without looking away, lifted her foot and smashed his hard enough that she could feel the bone CRACK beneath her heel.

“WHAT THE FUCK!” The boy screamed and collapsed to the ground, clutching his now broken foot. His eyes blazed at her in fury. “WHY YOU—”

“It’s rude to refer to women like that,” Nezuko said in a flat tone. Standing over the boy, she eyed his foot, then narrowed her eyes and spoke with a touch of venom. “Don’t ever call someone that again, or else it won’t be your foot next time.”

“I—”

Nezuko inched her foot closer to his other leg, eliciting a flinch and a strangled sound from him. He scrambled up with a little difficulty, but didn’t say another word. Just gave Nezuko one last glare before limping toward the other side of the table everyone was supposed to gather around.

Speaking of which…

Nezuko noticed that the other four had watched the entire encounter a few steps behind them. No one moved, their faces displaying various expressions of shock, fear, and (in the muscular girl’s case) awe.

The embarrassment hit harder this time. Nezuko was pretty sure her face was burning this time.

I’m starting to worry if being a demon slayer is good for my mental state.

…Let’s worry about that another time.

“If you’ll please?” the brown-haired girl prompted from the table.

That’s all it took for the others to wake from their stupor and move forward. Senjuro ended up on Nezuko’s right side, concern flashing in his eyes but thankfully without any hints of fear towards her. The flower girl and plan-looking boy moved to the right of the mohawk boy, the former calmly while the latter made sure she was between the two of them. He also eyed Nezuko and left a sizable space between them.

The muscular girl took that spot on Nezuko’s other side, lightly tapping her shoulder with a loose fist and smiling brightly at her. “We seriously need to hang out when this is all over. I didn’t realize how cool you were!”

Nezuko blinked, unsure of how to react to that.

The girls used the pause to pull the large purple cloth away from the table, revealing an array of stones varying in size and shape.

“You may now pick an ore to be used to forge the metal of your sword.”

Nezuko stared at the different lumps of metal. None of them really stood out to her. In all honesty, they all looked the same.

Is there a way we’re supposed to sense how to pick our ore? she thought to herself. Will something happen if we choose the wrong one?

“How are we supposed to know which one to choose?” the mohawk boy muttered under his breath.

No one answered him nor made a move to pick an ore. Even the normally chatty muscular girl had a pensive look on her face, pursing her lips and eyeing each piece of metal as if one would suddenly give her a signal to choose them.

Nezuko glanced at Senjuro, seeing him with a similar lost expression. He gave her a look as well, and realizing the silent question after a beat, shrugged, returning his worried gaze to the ores in front of them.

Well, if there’s really no right or wrong way to go about this…

Nezuko hobbled up to the table, taking in the different stones presented before them. She laid a hand on the edge of the table, focusing her senses to see if there might be a trace of something that could give her an answer.

It took a moment, but sure enough, something resonated with her.

Nezuko then reached forward and grabbed her ore.

“Really? Six?”

A cat with misty gray fur nodded. Its long fluffy tail twitched from where it was wrapped around its paws. The young man with dark hair and lavender eyes it was reporting to raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

 “Are you sure?” Again, the cat nodded. He sighed and rose from his kneeling position. “Alright, come with me.”

The young man led the way inside the traditional mansion, the cat alongside him. They quietly passed through the empty hallways until they came to a pair of shoji doors. He opened them and the cat slipped inside, padding at a brisk pace up to where a woman was sitting in the sunlit veranda.

“Has the report come back?” the woman asked softly. She adjusted her position to allow the cat to rest in her lap.

“Yes, Mistress.” The young man bowed deeply despite her not facing him. “Six have passed, three of which are Tsugoku candidates.” He rose, frowned, then added, “Well, technically two are officially. One was assumed, so we’ll have to follow up with Rengoku.”

“I see.” The woman’s fingers gently caressed the neck of the now purring cat in her lap. “Many more than last time. Are there any concerns?”

“There was a slight altercation at the mountain summit. Apparently one of the male survivors attempted to assault one of your children, but was stopped by a female survivor.”

“Was anyone injured?”

“The survivor boy came away with a broken foot.” The young man snorted. “An injury he received from the girl.”

The woman hummed. “We shouldn’t be encouraging such violence amongst our rankings so early. However, I can understand tensions running high due to exhaustion in this circumstance. We will let this pass for now and hope they can find a way to work together in the future.”

The young man scoffed. “Based on that report, I doubt we’ll be seeing those two being able to work together.”

“I suppose we shall see, then,” the woman said. A silence lapsed between the two of them for a minute, filled only by the purring cat in her lap and the wind blowing through the green and purple trees surrounding the mansion. “So, the number of our descendants has continued to grow in a flourishing manner.”

“Yes, Mistress. It appears so.”

“Hopefully, this is a sign of continuing good fortune for the Corps.” The woman let out a tired sigh, tilting her head back so the morning sun bathed her pale face and reflected light off of the purple hairpin tucked in her brown and graying hair. “After ten long years, we’ve finally found ourselves with a grace period. For a while, I feared that it would be well past my time before we would get to see nine pillars leading the Corps once again.”

“And for many more years to come, you will lead them, my lady,” the young man quickly replied. “There is new hope not only for our current pillars, but for your health. Please, remember to think of yourself as well, Mistress.”

The woman remained silent, pausing her ministrations. The gray cat quieted at the lack of petting and raised its head up to her.

The young man frowned and did his best not to fidget. “Mistress?”

“We mustn’t forget the next generations of swordsmen either.” Her hand rested within the cat’s long gray fur, and she turned her head just a touch toward the young man behind. “They are the ones responsible for preserving our work, and will pave the way towards the future.”

The young man opened and closed his mouth, unsure of how to reply. He eventually settled on straightening his posture and giving a short bow. “O-Of course, Mistress. I suppose…I worry about whether or not they will be able to live up to the strength and stability you and the pillars have worked so hard to provide while proving yourselves constantly of the extraordinary abilities you possess.”

“In time, they will come to recognize that. But have faith in them,” she assured him. “Perhaps, these swordsmen and women will surpass us in ways we cannot fathom at the moment. Or at the very least, find ways to carry on our legacies with dignity and pride. Don’t you think so?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

She smiled, turning back towards the warm sun and ending the conversation with one final whisper.

“What a beautiful thought, don’t you agree? I look forward to seeing what sort of future they will create for us.”

Left foot…

Right foot…

Left foot…

Right foot…

Right…Right—Left foot!

Nezuko jerked her left foot forward, closing her eyes and breathing deeply through the sudden wave of pain. The hand braced against her side tightened and she tried not to worry too much about how damp the area was compared to when she left the mountain.

“I’m fine,” she breathed, sensing Senjuro’s gaze on her right.

“You sure? We can take a b—”

“I’m fine…Don’t worry….Please.”

“...Okay.”

She took a few more breaths, then straightened, putting more of her weight on the walking stick she found on the side of the road they were walking along. The girl gave the boy a nod, and they continued on their way.

After everyone had selected their ores on the mountain, their measurements were taken and uniforms were given. The gathering had concluded, and all the survivors were granted safe passage down the mountain with the parting message of waiting until their swords arrived for their next steps.

As their luck turned out, Nezuko and Senjuro found themselves heading in the same direction towards their respective homes. It became somewhat of a repeat of how they spent the majority of their past week, making their way across the countryside (and Senjuro throwing her worried glances when he thought she wasn’t looking), but this time with the destination of finally going home at last.

Home at last…

I’ll be…home at last…

That’s all Nezuko could think about as she put one shaky foot in front of the other and ignored how her side was on fire and her head felt like it weighed as much as a boulder. The exhaustion, the nausea, the weight of everything that happened on Mt. Fujikasane…none of that mattered.

Nezuko was finally going home to see her brother and mentor.

She was finally going to prove to Kaigaku that she beat him and upheld her end of the wager.

All that was left to do was to get back to the peach orchard.

“I’ll make sure he doesn’t do anything before Final Selection is over. Since it takes about a day at most to get there, we’ll wait until the morning after the seventh day before taking any sort of action.”

Nezuko stared up at the sky, the afternoon sun blinding and beating down on the two young teens. Its position indicated that she should have been more than halfway back home, but with the slow pace they were traveling at, Nezuko knew they were at most a little more than a quarter of the way.

At this rate, it would be well into the night before she got back, maybe longer.

Maybe even into the next day…

NO! No, don’t…think like that…

You’ll make it…in time…

Gotta make…make it…for Tanjiro…

Big Brother…is waiting for…

Big Brother needs…

“Nezuko.”

Nezuko jumped. Her grips tightened and her feet spread to brace herself better as the world tipped a bit too far. “Wha—Yeah?”

Everything settled, and her vision settled on Senjuro’s worried expression. He had a hand reaching for her, but took it back when her attention was back.

The action made her more aware of how much heavier his breathing had become and the way he kept blinking like it was hard for him to focus on her as well.

She felt bad. At the very least, Senjuro must’ve had a concussion from being thrown into a tree. He didn’t seem to have any broken bones, but despite spending a majority of the week running and hiding, the boy had his fair share of cuts, bruises, and exhaustion.

Maybe he wanted to stop for a break? Or wanted to ask if they could move faster? They had been walking slower to account for her limp, but maybe she could—

“I uh, I’m going this way.”

She stared, processing that sentence with a brain that felt like it was made of molasses. “Huh?”

The boy pointed ahead where she suddenly noticed a fork in the road. “I’m heading North. So I’m going along that path,” he said, pointing towards the right. “Are you—?

“Oh, yeah, I-I mean no,” Nezuko’s gaze followed the other path. The memory was a bit hazy, but she now remembered the split and how she had to go on the left road. “I’m going that way. Yeah, yeah, there.”

“Okay…”

“...”

“I guess…this is it.”

“Yeah…I guess so.”

Neither said anything. The silence felt a bit awkward, and as much as she wanted to just say goodbye and keep moving, Nezuko knew she couldn’t. Not without saying something meaningful first.

What should she say to the friend she had spent the past week fighting through hell and somehow miraculously surviving with?

“Thank you!”

Senjuro bowed, nearly as deeply as the girls on the mountain had but lacking any of the grace and poise they displayed. It took Nezuko by surprise, but she didn’t get a chance to respond as he spoke at the same volume he used when yelling at the tentacle demon the other day.

“Thank you for looking after me. I-I know I should’ve done more, and knew better than to make a dumb mistake at the beginning, but you protected me, even when you didn’t have to. I should be dead…” His voice wavered, and his hands fisted the baggy material of his hakama. “I should’ve…but you saved my life. And stayed with me. You…I-I know there’s nothing I can do to repay the kindness you gave me, but please, please know, from the bottom of my heart…thank you so much…for everything.”

Nezuko was at a loss for words (which may or may not have been a response to her sluggish brain). A part of her wanted to cry. Or hug him again. Or…tell him how his thoughts on being a burden were wrong and that she couldn’t have made it out of that nightmare without him.

Not just with Senjuro saving her life against the tentacle demon, but in reminding her of what she was fighting for. Of how he helped her wake up and find the drive she needed to free all those souls and avenge Zenitsu.

All of that was because of him. And she wanted to convey all of that and so much more.

Instead, releasing her side, Nezuko patted him on the shoulder with a sticky hand and gave him a weak smile. “Thank you…too. I’m so glad…you’re my friend.”

His eyes widened and his breathing stuttered. “I…” he trailed off, watching her hand fall and concern suddenly bleeding into his expression. “Hey, are you sure you’re going to be okay on your own? I can walk a little further with you—”

“No, it’s okay. I’ll make it.” Her hand returned to her side and she suppressed a cringe at how it stuck to the fabric and soaking bandages like glue. “And you?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, I’ll be okay.” Senjuro adjusted the strap of the bag holding his uniform, eyeing Nezuko one last time with a worried frown. “And you’re positive you can make it to at least the next town?” She nodded, biting her lip and leaning a little heavier against the stick at the dizziness that flooded over her. Senjuro didn’t seem to notice and finally relaxed his expression.

“Alright, then…goodbye and good luck, Nezuko.”

“Thanks…you too.”

With that, Senjuro turned and began walking down the road on the right. Nezuko likewise started limping down her new path, putting all of her energy into putting one foot in front of the other.

Left foot…

Right foot…

Left foot…

Right foot…

She ignored the pain, the burning and heaviness in her body. Anything that was preventing her from shuffling towards her home.

Ignored everything…

Left foot…

Right foot…

Left foot…

Right foot…

The blur in her vision…the numbness in her legs…

That weird floaty feeling that was just like when she was running too much under the trees and…fell?

Or did she…trip or something…else…

Left foot…

Right…

Left…

Right…Right…Ri…

“—zuko!”

The ground disappeared beneath her feet and the world violently spun as if she were rolling down a hill and couldn’t stop. Everything went hazy and it was too hot and bright and it hurt hurt hurt—

A shadow fell over her.

“Ne…ko…Nezu…Nezuko!”

Oh…I know that voice.

She pried her eyes open, and found herself flat on her back, Senjuro leaning over her. The panic in his eyes faded to relief when her vision stopped blurring so much.

“Oh thank god!” He helped her remove her uniform bag and kicked the walking stick off to the side. “Don’t do that! I-I thought this time…no, nevermind! What hurts? Is it still just your side or—?”

“Everything,” she groaned.

Which was true. The fall triggered all of the pain her body had gone through and now all she could right now was lay on the ground, trying not to cry out or writh too much. 

It was taking everything in her not to completely pass out, which wasn’t as much as she hoped. The walk must have sapped nearly all of her energy, leaving her in this pitiful state where she could barely move.

But you have to. You have to get back…for Tanjiro.

Tanjiro needs you…

“...Nezu…Nezuko! Hey, did you hear me?”

Nezuko blinked, tuning into Senjuro’s voice again as he ripped some of her kimono sleeves off and pressed them to her side urgently. “Ah, sorry, no. Is it—?”

“Not good, no,” the boy told her in a shaky voice. “Sorry, I…I don’t have anything here, and you’re still bleeding. You need a doctor. Today.” He tied off the fabric, and Nezuko did her best to suppress a whimper at how the knot was pressing uncomfortably into the open wound. “How far is your home from here? Or the nearest town?”

Nezuko tried to think, remembering how she used the sun to gauge her distance. But her head still felt too heavy and thoughts weren’t coming together like they normally did.

In the end, she managed to blurt out, “Hours.”

That was certainly not the response he was hoping to hear based on the way Senjuro’s face fell and stared at her bleeding side as if he expected a river of blood to come pouring out any minute. His gaze shifted to her face, her side again, and then ahead at the forked paths.

It felt longer than a moment, but at last, the boy made a decision.

“Okay, you’re coming home with me.”

…Huh?

“Here, careful,” he mumbled, helping Nezuko to sit and looking apologetic at her wincing. “Listen, I live barely another hour away, and my family knows how to deal with injuries like these. I’m sure as long as he…I mean, they should be okay with you staying, and if not, then I can find you an inn for a night or two until—”

“No.”

Senjuro stopped rambling. “What?”

“I…I can’t stop, I…“ Nezuko managed to get herself to her knees, the gash on her side screaming in pain at her every movement. “I have to get back…before daybreak…tomorrow. I’ll be fine—“ Nezuko tried to push herself to stand, but a very strong pulse of pain came from her side burned again. She gasped and would have fallen harder to the ground if Senjuro hadn’t suddenly caught her.

“No!” The boy adjusted his grip on the older girl. “Look, my house is really not that far from here. You need to rest and get your wounds treated. Waiting an extra day to get back won’t be a big deal—”

“I CAN’T!”

She felt Senjuro flinch at her tone, and immediately felt bad.

“Sorry, ‘m sorry, I just…can’t,” she started mumbling, trying to find the right words to make him understand with her scrambled head. “I promised I would, and…if I don’t, I, my brother will…he needs me, and Kai…someone will…just please …let me go.”

Please, let me go…

I have to get back…

After everything, I have to get back…

Please, god, please…

Don’t let me fail…because I was too weak…to walk a little…

Please…

“Nezuko, look at me. Please.”

Her thoughts lessened at the firm tone in Senjuro’s voice. He helped her move into a more comfortable position, then waited until he was sure he had her undivided attention. He took a deep breath, and spoke in that same voice with a serious gaze.

“Listen, I understand you wanting to get back home, especially if you’re under some sort of time constraint or deal. But Nezuko, you can barely walk on your own, and I’m worried you’re going to end up passed out on the side of the road and bleed out. Plus, even if you can make it there on your own somehow, you shouldn’t be traveling at night in your condition. What if demons try to attack you?”

“I-I can—”

“No, not in your condition,” Senjuro interrupted her. “You need medical attention, food, and rest. And walking however many miles you have left like this is dangerous and will only hurt you in the long run.” He frowned, thought about something, and shook his head. “I’m telling you, it’s fine if you stay with me for a little while. It’s the least I can do after everything you’ve done for me this past week. Please, let me make it up to you in this small way.” His grip on her arms tightened, and he looked her in the eye with a firm compassion. “Please, Nezuko.”

This felt…different, the way Senjuro was talking and looking at her. It was vaguely similar to how she remembered him talking and acting whenever he treated her injuries on the mountain. But there was a new unwavering presence to him and the way he was telling her to prioritize her health.

Actually, it was a bit like when they were running from the giant demon and he told her to trust him with his plan. Another side of him that she got the sense rarely came out unless it was a serious matter.

And this…was.

Could she really afford to take a few days to recuperate before coming back to the orchard?

As much as she hated to admit it, the young boy had several good points. Her body was certainly on its last legs of energy and most likely wouldn’t be able to make it without the journey being twice as long. All while carrying the risk of falling unconscious again (and certainty not getting back up until well into the next day).

Even if Nezuko tried to make it back to Mr. Kuwajima’s house by walking through the night, at the pace and strength she was going with, Senjuro was right; she was in no condition to defend herself against a demon prowling after her scent. She would never forgive herself if she got attacked by a demon and killed right before she had the chance to confirm with Kaigaku that she upheld her end of their wager.

Still…

“If you’re worried about letting your brother or whoever trained you know you survived, then we can send a message to them too when we get there,” said Senjuro, his fiery eyes moving as if searching for something in her face.

Nezuko shook her head, regretting the action and the slight dizziness that returned. “But, it wouldn’t get there in time…”

She wasn’t sure if a human messenger would get there in time, or if her mentor would believe some stranger wandering through the peach orchard. Honestly, there was a good chance they might get lost or trigger one of Kuwajima’s traps, and still not make it in time.

And it wasn’t like she could send her new Kasugai to do it either. At the end of the gathering, the cats (and Senjuro’s bird) went back to the guides for some sort of “final training” with the promise of being returned soon.

But Senjuro surprised her by saying, “We have a Kasugi at home, and it’s really fast. They’ll let your mentor know that you made it back alive and are safely recuperating until you’re fit to travel. Survivors do this all the time, so he has to understand, okay?”

That made her pause. Only demon slayers get Kasugai cats, so why would his family already have one? The information was at the tip of her tongue, but she just couldn’t focus or remember enough to put the pieces together.

She was just too tired…and just wanted a break…

If everything would be taken care of and Kuwajima knew, could she at the very least spare one night recuperating before heading back?

…

…

…

“...Alright.”

“Wait—Really?” Senjuro’s shock was brief, but he schooled it to a lesser form of the firm presence he gave off minutes earlier. “I mean, great, then let’s get going so you can send that message.”

At that, the boy grabbed Nezuko’s uniform bag and slung it over the shoulder not holding his, and carefully helped Nezuko to stand. They had to go slowly, and she nearly staggered off to the side when a strong bout of pain and nausea swept over her.

“You good?” Senjuro asked, wrapping the arm not pressed against her side around his shoulders and barring the majority of her weight.

“Y-Yeah,” Nezuko replied. She couldn’t help but lean against him and feel a bit more at ease knowing that what she thought was going to be a long journey was now only another hour or more. “Thank you, Sen…”

His hold on her tightened. “Of course.”

At that, the two changed direction and started their slow (but shorter) journey back to Senjuro’s house.

Nezuko just prayed that she was making the right decision.

The air was cold, and there was so much blood.

The boy laid on the ground, praying that the demon didn’t notice his shivering or his blonde and red hair. He could vaguely hear its footsteps as it walked through the field of corpses over the ringing in his ears.

He never knew true fear until this moment, a being so powerful it killed what had to be three squadrons worth of slayers with ease. The scent of blood and flesh were so overpowering, surrounding him in a suffocating fog beneath the bodies he was buried under.

He knew he needed to move. He had to fight or escape to find help. He needed to do something and not hide like a coward.

But the fear, the coldness of the demon’s presence coming closer to where he was shaking under the weight of swordsmen well above his rank…

It was all too overwhelming.

And this was only his first mission.

Was he…going to die on his first mission?

The footsteps stopped, a cloud of cold standing before the cluster of bodies.

He took a deep breath and reached for his sword.

And waited…

…

…

…

“You should have run when you had the chance.”

The boy sprang from his hiding spot and attempted to decapitate the demon right before him with a loud cry. The blade met flesh and drew blood, but barely broke the skin of the demon’s neck. He kept trying to put all his power into the force, but he knew it was all for nought.

The demon stared down at the boy, ice blue sclera and pink eyes freezing him in place. Without looking away from him, the demon lifted a hand to the sword and gripped the metal, tight enough that it drew blood around its fingers.

“And yet you choose to fight rather than preserve your own life. How interesting,” the demon said in a soft voice. Its eyes narrowed and something sharp entered its tone. “A child throwing away such a full, healthy life that many have begged lifetimes for. You and the blood that thrums through your veins truly don’t understand the blessings you have been bestowed. How disgusting.”

The demon closed its fist, shattering the blade into a thousand red ice shards. Faster than he could react, the demon’s other hand grabbed the boy by the neck and lifted him up. He gasped and struggled to break free from the tight grip, forced to stare into those damn eyes and feel the freezing cold of the demon’s hand against his skin.

Don’t give up!

Fight!

You have to go home!

Please…Please don’t let this be the end…

“Let me help you and those who claim to love you know what true suffering is.”

Markings appeared on the demon’s pale skin and started to glow. They traveled up its arms like icy rivers until they reached its hands and then—

He screamed as all the warmth in his body was stolen and a painful, burning cold assaulted all his senses and drained whatever energy he possessed.

The last thing he saw before everything faded to black were those strange eyes, glowing at him with judgment. And kanji, for some reason.

So cold…So tired….

Can’t…breathe…

It was…Three…

…

…

…

His body fell to the ground, leaving him staring up at the gray sky.

It was snowing…

It was pretty…

It was…

So…

Cold…

The rest of the walk to Senjuro’s house was relatively uneventful.

Their pace was slower than what either of them probably would have wanted, but it was all they could manage between Nezuko’s nearly depleted stamina and Senjuro bearing the brunt of her weight, his injuries, and both of their uniform bags. With each unsteady step forward, Nezuko vowed once they arrived at their destination to make sure she thanked the boy profusely for dealing with her and her stubborn body.

Thankfully, Nezuko didn’t pass out again, and they only had to stop once when Senjuro said that he needed a small break because he was tired (though Nezuko was having trouble telling if that was the truth or if he wanted her to rest).

At least her thoughts were also starting to clear up a bit more compared to earlier after the small break. Even a small amount of strength had returned after a while, and she used every bit of it to stand as much as she could on her own two feet so Senjuro was completely dragging her down the road.

Nezuko would take whatever speed they could manage to pick. Right now, her biggest concern was getting there as soon as possible so she could send a message home. And hope that it would get there in time and that this wasn’t a useless gamble on her brother’s life.

Don’t think like that, she told herself. She eyed Senjuro and the determined glint in his eyes that remained all throughout their travel and whenever he checked on how she was faring with the walk. Have faith in him. If he thinks it’s for the best, then it must be.

Soon enough (though probably longer than normal due to both of their exhaustion), they finally reached town. There was a decent amount of people milling around, and although many shot Nezuko and Senjuro a couple of surprised and confused looks, they never tried to speak to the two of them.

It’s like they’re used to seeing a couple of young teenagers walking through town looking half-dead.

Do demon slayers come through here often?

She didn’t get a chance to ponder that thought because Senjuro chose that moment to stop in his tracks and announced, “We’re here.”

Right before them was a large, traditional estate. It was by far the nicest house Nezuko had ever laid eyes on, and certainly not the home she was expecting based on what little Senjuro had told her about where he came from.

The fact that this was most likely the home of a very wealthy family was glaring obvious, and suddenly Nezuko was hit with the realization that she was about to meet Senjuro’s family unannounced, unprepared, and covered in dirt and blood. 

I just hope that I’m not going to be intruding too much on them.

Though…maybe I should just tell him staying in an inn would be better. I don’t want to—

Senjuro’s grip on her tightened, breaking her train of thought for the umpteenth time today.

For a second, Nezuko thought he was just catching her attention again. However, when she turned to him, there was a far away look and familiar glassy sheen in his eyes. He didn’t seem to notice how tightly he was holding onto Nezuko as he stared ahead at the open gate of the estate.

“Hey, are you okay?” Nezuko asked.

Senjuro gulped and nodded. “Y-Yeah,” he stuttered, his voice cracking slightly. “I, uh, i-it’s just I…I didn’t think I would make it home.”

His body wasn’t even shivering from the rain soaking his hair and clothes…

…the blood pooling from the back of his head…how still his one outstretched hand…

How cold he had become since that must have been the rain and not the result of the large amount of blood on the ground…

Nezuko squeezed his shoulder back, focusing on the warmth beneath the cloth and the brightness of his eyes despite their unease.

He was here, right beside her, and almost didn’t get the chance to make it back because of her inactions.

But for now, that was in the past. They were here. He was home. And he deserved to feel happy and proud of making it to the end.

“Come on,” Nezuko said. “Let’s go.”

Senjuro voiced no objections and the two limped the rest of the way to the opened gate. They stopped right at it so Senjuro could help Nezuko lean against the wooden side while he went on ahead.

“I just need to make sure we’re okay to have visitors stay over,” Senjuro explained, double checking her wound wrappings and looking more nervous by the second. “Sorry, you should be fine, but sometimes…well, it’s complicated, and I can’t really explain everything without…just trust me on this.”

“It’s fine. Whatever you think is best.” Nezuko weakly smiled and nodded ahead. “Now go on, let your family know you’re here.”

“R-Right!” Senjuro took a few steps forward and stopped. He gave Nezuko one last glance over his shoulder, took a deep breath, and called out.

“H-Hello? I’m back!”

Silence…

Then there were crashing sounds and loud thumps from within the estate. The pounding of footsteps running toward the door were heard, followed by a voice that said a name Nezuko couldn’t hear over the clatter and a “don’t run!”

The door to the estate itself was slammed open and Nezuko felt her eyes bug open at the man before them.

He…honestly looked like an older version of what Nezuko assumed Senjuro would be in his very early twenties, with the same fiery eyes and hair (though longer and not tied up) but with slightly paler skin. He was wearing a dark red yukata and brown hakama pants with white tabi socks. His appearance seemed a bit rumpled, as though he had just woken up.

The young man gripped the door frame, panting as though he had been running nonstop for days. His gaze landed on Senjuro, causing his eyes to widen to the point that Nezuko thought he vaguely resembled an owl.

“S…Senjuro?” The man whispered, staring at the younger boy as though he couldn’t believe he was here.

Nezuko glanced at Senjuro and could practically feel the storm of emotions rise as the boy’s eyes filled with tears and nodded. “I-I’m back, Brother.”

A beat…

Then Senjuro broke down with a sob.

“BROTHER!”

The boy ran to meet his older brother, the latter meeting him halfway and falling to his knees to catch Senjuro. The smaller Rengoku wrapped his arms tightly around his brother’s neck and started sobbing harder, just like on the mountain earlier, trying to say something but unable to with the words that kept getting stuck in his throat.

The man held him just as tightly, curling around the boy as though to protect him. Even though she couldn’t hear what he was saying, the man was whispering softly and running a soothing hand up and down his back.

This was it. Looking back on every choice she made since protecting Senjuro from the demon on that very first day, she felt confident enough to believe it had been worth it. This moment right in front of her was why she chose to save him, even if it cost her a more difficult path to her goal.

At last, Senjuro got to reunite with who she guessed was his older brother.

Watching them, Nezuko couldn’t help but feel an ache in her chest at the loving gesture and apparent strong bond the two shared. It reminded her so much of her and Tanjiro before…everything.

This probably wouldn’t be the welcoming she’d receive when she returned to the orchard. Which was fine, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t a part of her that wished to see her brother awake again, even if it was only for a minute to see her return.

Nezuko couldn’t help but wonder if this was how Tanjiro would react to her coming home.

How would she have reacted if it were the other way around?

“Kyojuro, who is it? You’re supposed to be resting—“

The new voice that floated in stopped. At the same moment, Senjuro became incredibly still and ceased his sobbing.

At the doorway stood a beautiful woman. She had long dark hair styled into a side ponytail that cascaded down her shoulder. She had stern, defined features and dark red eyes with a soft yet fierce intensity to them. She was dressed in a white kimono with light blue patterns decorating it with a similarly colored striped obi.

Her face became alit with shock and she gave a soft gasp when she saw Senjuro.

She, like the other man, wasted no time clearing the distance and collapsing down to hug the smaller boy. She didn’t even seem to notice that she was getting her elegant kimono dirty.

“Mom, Mom, Mom,” Senjuro kept whimpering. The woman shushed him softly, pressing a kiss into his dirty and bloody hair.

“Shh, you’re okay, you’re okay,” the woman-his mother-whispered. “My brave little flame has come home.” Senjuro’s brother adjusted his hold on him so she could encompass him more in her embrace. “Oh Senjuro, we were so worried about you.”

“I-I-I’m s-s-sorry, M-Mom,” Senjuro stuttered, his breathing picking up and getting more upset. “I-I sh-shouldn’t have g-gone, i-it was s-so s-stupid of me, a-and I-I th-though—” he gasped and buried his face into her chest with a broken whine, “he’s-he’s going t-to be—“

“Shh, shh, none of that now,” his mother said in a soothing voice, running her hand through his hair. “We can talk about it later. Right now, all that matters is you’re home. And both of my sons are safe.”

Senjuro hesitantly nodded and made a sound of affirmation. He was still crying and shaking, but finally, that tense rigidness that constantly clung to his posture melted away now that he was with his mother and brother.

It was such a beautiful moment, seeing this small family reunite after an entire week of fear and waiting. Now, they finally got to be together and forget about the horrors that took place.

Nezuko wiped at her eyes, for some reason shedding a few tears herself while her chest hurt more than usual.

I feel like I'm intruding on a private moment. Maybe it’s for the best that I give them some privacy and figure something else out on where to stay.

She began to push herself off the wall, but the old wood chose that moment to groan extremely loudly. The three huddled on the ground immediately whipped their heads toward the sound.

No one said a word. Not until the young man said quite loudly, “Hello! Can we help you?”

“Uh, I…” Nezuko pushed herself the rest of the way off the wall, taking a few steps back and bracing her side to try and escape this awkward moment. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. I-I can just go—”

“No wait, hold!” Senjuro hurriedly got up and ran back to Nezuko, grabbing her hand and gently pulling her back to his family. “Sorry, I completely forgot. Don’t worry, it should be fine.”

Nezuko nodded and did her best not to appear too frazzled as she was brought before the young man and older woman, both of whom looked at her curiously.

“Mother, Brother, this is Nezuko,” Senjuro introduced her, smiling brightly and hastily rubbing the tears off his face. “We met and stayed together during Final Selection.” He then gestured to his family members. “Nezuko, this is my Mother, and my elder brother, Kyojuro.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Nezuko said, doing her best to bow but only managing a shallow and stiff one. The pain in her side flared up again, but she bit the inside of her cheek and pressed her hand tighter against the wound. “I apologize for intruding, and happy to have known your son and brother for the past week.”

Senjuro’s smile dampened at her subtle reaction to the pain, and turned back to his mother and brother. “Is it okay if she stays here to recover, at least for the night? She still has a while to travel and I didn’t want her to go at night while she has a serious injury.”

Senjuro’s mother’s eyes flew to Nezuko at the comment. She tried not to squirm as the older woman scanned her body and stopped at her bloodstained side.

“But only if you’re able to!” Nezuko added, waving her free hand and putting on a tight smile against the pain. “Really, I-I don’t want to impose—”

“You wouldn’t, right?” Senjuro didn’t remove his hand, his thumb resting on her wrist’s pulse point. His gaze became like before on the road, slightly more intense as he gave Nezuko a brief look before returning to his family. “Please? I…I wouldn’t have survived Final Selection without her.”

That got a slightly shocked reaction out of Kyojuro and his mother to stiffen. They exchanged a look, then returned their attention to Nezuko. Which was starting to be a little overwhelming.

“I’m serious, you don’t have to—”

“Nezuko.”

The girl straightened and suddenly felt her anxiety start to skyrocket as the beautiful older woman approached her. For a moment, the two stared at each other, Nezuko pinned down by the woman’s intense gaze gazing into her own. She could feel her heart beating frantically against her chest, some weird emotion she didn’t have a name for at the moment creating a lump in her throat and giving her a weird sense of deja vu.

Senjuro was still clutching Nezuko’s hand, his grip tightening ever so slightly.

A beat passed, and then…

The woman smiled softly and bowed to her.

“We would be honored to host you for the night. Any friend of my sons is always welcome in our home.” She rose and looked over her shoulder to Senjuro’s brother. “Kyojuro, have one of the extra rooms prepared. The one closest to your brother’s should do.”

The man blinked twice before his posture relaxed and a large beaming smile filled his face with enough light to rival that of the sun. “Of course, Mother!”

“Excellent.” She turned back to Nezuko and Senjuro and held out her hand. “May I?”

Nezuko hesitated. Senjuro smiled at her, the intensity from before gone and a calm resting over him. “It’s okay. I promise, you can trust Mother. She just wants to help.”

“Oh, uh sorry, a-alright.” Nezuko took the older woman’s hand, and allowed her to wrap the arm not holding her side around her shoulder with ease. She couldn’t suppress the cringe when her dirty and bloody kimono pressed against the clean white of the elegant kimono. “I’m sorry, I-I don’t want to get you dirty.”

She huffed out a quiet chuckle. “Please don’t. Your health is more important than me staying clean.” She nodded to the dirt clinging to her hem as she led Nezuko inside the estate. “Are there any other injuries or conditions we should know about?”

Nezuko was about to shake her head, but by now had learned her lesson. “Uh, my head. I think I have a concussion. Everything else is cuts and bruises.”

“I see.” A burst of laughter came from behind and the two caught Senjuro being put on his older brother’s back and holding on for dear life. Their mother called in a voice that Nezuko couldn’t determine whether it was her being stern or if that was just how she spoke. “Kyojuro, you shouldn’t do that. Be careful.”

“He mentioned his foot hurting,” Kyojuro replied cheerfully. He adjusted his grip on his younger brother, but ended up staggering to the side, eliciting a panicked squeak from his brother (and their mother tensing momentarily). But he just as quickly regained his balance with a laugh. “I’m merely giving him a break!”

The older woman sighed and gestured to the door. “Well, take Senjuro to his room so he can be looked over.” She gave them a pointed look. “And no being rowdy; neither of you are in the condition for that.”

Kyojuro nodded. “Yes, Mother!”

Ruka still didn’t look away. In fact, she hadn’t been staring at the young man the entire time.

“I’ll make sure he listens, Mother,” Senjuro dutifully promised with a wave. Kyojuro looked briefly affronted at his younger brother and mother.

“Betrayed by my own mother and brother?” He jostled his brother on his back with a playful smile and determined glint in his eyes. “Very well then, let’s see you handle this!”

Kyojuro ran ahead, Senjuro screaming his brother’s name and hanging onto him for dear life. Though when they passed her, Nezuko managed to catch Senjuro smiling and laughing before disappearing inside.

“Those two,” the older woman murmured with a touch of fondness. She turned to Nezuko. “I apologize, they tend to get like this whenever Kyojuro has a sudden bout of energy.”

“Oh, it’s fine,” Nezuko assured her friend’s mother. “I’m used to it.”

It reminded her a bit of her siblings and how they used to act. Play wrestling indoors, running around the pathways in the spring, having snowball fights in the winter…

It was nice, seeing that Senjuro got to have some of that.

Being able to come home to an older brother with open arms and a warm smile, happy that he accomplished so much…

It was nice.

“Well, let’s not waste any more time,” the older woman said. “Let’s get you two cleaned up and taken care of. You both deserve it.”

Nezuko nodded and allowed Senjuro’s mother to lead her inside.

Perhaps, after everything that happened, she deserved a break.

Chapter Text

The infirmary was nearly empty.

The past few weeks had been chaotic, whispers and fear shattering the normal calm that typically resided within the building. So many slayers had been brought in and out recently, evident by the number of messy beds and scattered bandages and blood stained cloths missed in the cleanup.

But now, there was only one patient remaining. And they were supposed to have been discharged three days ago.

A woman sat by the occupied bed. Her tired red eyes gazing out the nearby window bathing the room in moonlight. Tension lined her shoulders, and there was a slight tremor in her hands folded on her lap.

A thirteen year old boy laid on the bed, struggling to breathe in his sleep even with his head elevated and the thick scent of medicine clinging to him. A smaller identical child slept next to him on top of the covers. His face was splotchy and red, round cheeks damp with tear tracks and tiny hands fisting into the material of the blanket.

A slight rumble came from the shoji doors nearby opening. The woman jumped, moving instinctively to stand between the doorway and the bed with the children. The panic only lasted a moment and she relaxed when she recognized the nurse uniform.

The visitor was a girl with short dark hair and her bangs pulled back into a small topknot. She was a little younger than the older child sleeping (by two years, a distant part of her mind reminded her), and wearing a short necklace with several teal beads tied close to her neck.

Neither said anything. Then the girl slowly made her way over to the occupied bed. She grabbed a nearby chair and set it on the opposite side, sitting down and nodding toward the doorway.

The woman paused, then nodded back as she left the room, a small gesture to convey her thanks. The girl turned her strange silver eyes to the two boys and continued the woman’s silent vigil with a solemn look too old to belong to a child.

They were children…

They were just children…

They were all just…

The woman came to an abrupt halt, suddenly alone in the middle of a hallway she didn’t remember walking down. She squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her hands to her mouth as tightly as she could, desperate to hold back the fear and grief that had been threatening to spill since her husband told her to come here immediately because…because…

No, don’t think like that.

He’s here. He’s alive. He’ll be okay.

He will be okay.

She took a shuddering breath, pushing those waves of emotions down before they could drown her. Shaky breathing was all she could manage right now, but that would be the only weakness she would allow in the privacy of the night.

She couldn’t afford to fall apart, and that was okay.

This was a role she was used to playing for so long. If it would prevent her family from falling apart and shattering into a million pieces, then she would continue to be their center of calm and stability.

It was the least she could do. It was all she could do.

So she would bear all their fear and grief, no matter—

The woman stopped breathing.

She heard a noise. Footsteps, heavy ones leaving the estate.

She knew those footsteps…

Quickly, the woman composed herself, taking one last uneven breath and wiping away the burning tear that had managed to escape. She made her way through the rest of the estate with ease until she found the source right at the entrance doorway.

A tall man with blond and red hair identical to the children had his back to her. He made no attempt to acknowledge her presence as he finished putting on his zori sandals.

“Where are you going?”

The man didn’t answer. He stood to his full height, fixing the flame-patterned cape he was wearing.

“Is it a mission?” The woman took a tentative step forward and reached for him, her voice barely above a whisper. “Didn’t they give you time off? You’re not…”

She trailed off as the man turned to her, taking her by the shoulders and kissing her forehead with a gentleness only she and their children were privy to.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, holding her tight and lowering his head so their foreheads touched. “Please take care of them. I have to fix this.”

Sooner than she’d liked, the man pulled away. She barely had the moment to blink before he opened the door and disappeared in a flash of fire.

She didn’t remember how long she remained standing there, the midnight wind blowing at her messy dark hair and her burning gaze staring into the darkness before her. But it was long enough for the sun to rise and a few attendants at the estate to ask if she was alright.

The woman didn’t recall her responses to them. Finally taking in the meaning of the man’s words to her, the woman returned to where the children were sleeping.

They would be waking soon, and someone needed to be there for them.

“Be honest…it’s bad, isn’t it?”

A pause. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think there’s much I can do to fix it other than this.”

“...It’s really terrible, isn’t it?”

Another pause, followed by a few snips of a pair of scissors. “I don’t think it’s unflattering in the way you think it is—”

“But people are going to notice! I—” Nezuko winced and her hand flew to her side. The random twinges of pain were on and off, but still annoying.

Ruka paused her work. “Are you alright? If you’re still experiencing pain, then maybe—”

“No, really, it’s fine!” Nezuko quickly assured the older woman. She kept her hand braced there, right where the clean bandages were wrapped securely beneath her borrowed yukata. As she spoke, the pain gradually faded to a dull soreness. “Please don’t worry about it.”

She couldn’t see Ruka’s expression from behind her, but could sense her concern, even without the physical contact. A few more seconds passed before the snipping continued. 

“Very well, just let me know if there are any negative changes.”

Nezuko hummed, her fingers playing with the pinkish-red fabric of her yukata sleeves. The fabric was softer than anything she had ever worn, even before living in the orchard. It had to have been made with expensive material, fit for a wealthy individual and comfort.

When she had been handed it, Nezuko had to fight the initial urge to turn it away. She didn’t need to wear something so nice. She wasn’t even sure if it would be appropriate for someone like her to wear something so—

The snipping stopped again. “Alright, I’m finished. Would you like to take a look?”

Nezuko hesitated, then nodded. Ruka removed the cloth tied around the girl's shoulders and passed her a hand-mirror. She then moved from her spot to clean up some of the scattered tools and cut hair.

Now or never.

Bracing herself, Nezuko held up the mirror.

The haircut Ruka had given her was an attempt to fix the uneven lengths and unsalvageable knots her hair had become a mess of over Final Selection. The girl had completely forgotten that she had sliced her braid to avoid being grabbed by the tentacle demon on the mountain.

It disappointed her that she was probably going to have to cut her hair shorter than she wanted to make the lengths look uniform again, but figured it was something she was just gonna have to accept. It was either that or risk walking around with a ridiculous hairdo of varying lengths.

However, that wasn’t the issue.

After Senjuro’s mother (who had introduced herself as Ruka Rengoku) had finished stitching up Nezuko’s side (after having that and her other wounds properly treated), the girl had been directed to the bathroom with instructions to keep a towel covering her side and on where to find the room she would be staying in for the night. She was then handed extra towels, the yukata, and a final reminder to yell if she needed anything.

Thanking her profusely, Nezuko had left to shower and clean herself, trying not to take too much time while relishing the feeling of warm water washing away all of the dirt and blood that had clung to her body for the past week. When she was done, she dried herself off and put on the yukata, taking an extra moment to dry her hair before leaving to find her room.

She had been walking to the doorway, thinking about possibly asking for a brush for her tangled hair, when she passed by a mirror and took the towel off.

She glanced at her reflection, kept walking, and—

Stopped.

Backtracked a few steps…

Stiffly looked into the mirror…

And screamed.

Ruka had burst into the bathroom barely a few seconds after that. She had scanning the room with panicked eyes as she asked what was wrong when her red gaze landed on Nezuko’s hair.

“Oh dear.”

No, that was an understatement.

Because now that her hair was clean of mud and foliage, the problem was very obvious.

Her hair had started turning a dark pink.

For what it was worth, Ruka held an amazing poker face. Before Nezuko could decide between frantic apologies about screaming or throwing a towel over her head in embarrassment, the older woman told her to wait and disappeared briefly into the hallway. Faint whispering, followed by footsteps receding could be heard, and then she came back moments later to usher Nezuko to her prepared guest room.

When they got there, Ruka talked to her about what they could do, and swiftly got to work cutting and fixing her hair into something more presentable.

Which led to now.

Thankfully, Ruka had found a way to cut Nezuko’s hair so that it rested about an inch or two above the middle of her back. The strands that were too short to match the longer ones rested a little higher so they tufted out around her ears like a pair of wings. It would be harder to put her hair in a braid or bun due to the smaller strands sticking out, but Ruka said she would recommend a few hairstyles Nezuko could try to make them less conspicuous.

As for the pink, now that Nezuko was under less lighting, she could see that the only parts that were really pink were the smaller tufts, specifically the two or three strands behind the ones that usually framed her face when down. They were more a dark pink that easily stood out, and honestly, were probably what her eyes had been initially drawn to in her shock.

The rest of her hair only looked more pink when exposed to direct light. So now, it only seemed like her hair had a faint pink highlight or shine to it.

In all honesty, it looked a lot better than Nezuko thought it was going to.

“Wow, this is amazing!” Nezuko ran a hand through her hair, smiling at the new look. “Thank you so much, Ms. Ruka!”

“Of course.” Ruka said without looking up. “Let me know if you’d like anything changed. We can always try something different.”

Nezuko hummed, turning her head to look at the new style from different angles. It really did look nice, still being long but having the shorter stands frame her face in a way that made her look a bit older.

She liked it, she really did!

It was just…

Her eyes kept drifting to those pink strands, glaringly obvious among her black locks and probably easy to spot from a mile away. She pinched one of the strands, still a bit damp from the earlier washing, and frowned.

I know in the grand scheme of things, it’s not THAT big of a deal.

I feel like I’m making a big deal out of nothing. It’s fine, really!

But still…

Ruka noticed her hesitance amid her quick cleaning of the room. Though her expression didn’t change, she spoke in a soft, kind voice. “If it still bothers you, perhaps we can try dying the pink out. We have the supplies.”

Nezuko let the strand fall to her shoulder and set the mirror down to turn to the older woman. “Really? You think…it would work?”

She nodded. “I can help you with that, but I must take care of a few things first. Let your hair dry and think about it. Is that alright?”

“Yes! Thank you!” Nezuko gave a quick bow. “And thank you so much for taking care of me! And cutting my hair! I really appreciate it, ma’am!”

Ruka nodded, getting up and taking her gathered materials to exit the room. At the doorway, she paused, a hand resting on the shoji door before turning back to Nezuko.

“Would you like my opinion?”

Nezuko blinked. “Ah, sure.”

“Leave it. After all, you received that after overcoming a great challenge. Let it be a reminder of what you managed to accomplish.” Ruka slid the door open, took a step to leave, and paused again. “It’s your choice, and you shouldn’t let my opinion dictate what you should do with your body. But for what it’s worth, you’re a beautiful young lady, and the color of your hair isn’t going to change that.”

Ruka slipped outside and shut the door behind her without another word, leaving Nezuko staring wide-eyed after her.

She really thinks I look pretty even with the pink?

Nezuko’s gaze slid back to the mirror and her partial reflection. Her hand once again drifted toward the pink tufts and attempted to smooth them down to no avail. Deciding it wasn’t worth fretting over at the moment, Nezuko grabbed the mirror and placed it on a nearby desk face down.

I guess I can worry about that a little later. Might as well sit on it a bit and make sure dyeing it is what I want to do.

That was a later problem. Right now, though…she could relax for a bit.

With a heavy sigh, Nezuko flopped down on the floor, arms and legs spread out as she finally allowed herself to breathe.

It was hard to believe that this was the first moment since the night before Final Selection that she had a bit of privacy and was alone (then again, Tanjiro was always sleeping in the same room as her back at the orchard, but it wasn’t like he had much of a presence or tried to talk to her).

Everything since that day had been somewhat of a crazy whirlwind. Even now it was hard to believe that only a week had passed and in that time, Nezuko finally accomplished the first of her major goals.

That achievement still felt unreal, but she had the injuries and possible scars to prove it. As much as they hurt, it felt good to have a few physical reminders of what she had endured and overcome. 

But these were just the first of many injuries she would receive in the future as she started slaying demons, and working to find a cure for Tanjiro, and killing the demon that was responsible for murdering her family, and—

Wait, no, she needed to stop that overthinking.

“One step at a time, Nezuko,” she whispered to herself. “Take care of what you can now, and then you can focus on the rest later.”

Take a breath, and do what you can now.

Everything will fall into place.

It’s okay, you’re fine.

Nezuko took a deep breath, held it, and let the air out with a dramatic huff.

First things first; she needed to write a letter to Kuwajima letting him know that she had survived and would be coming home at a later date.

Nezuko pushed herself up and scanned the room. It was a nice room, with a few pieces of small furniture for storing clothes and what she assumed weapons (though the racks were empty). A guest futon sat in the corner, extra blankets and pillows stacked neatly on it for whenever she was ready for bed.

The small desk she placed her mirror on was set off to the side, but was otherwise empty. It lacked any materials for writing, which meant she was going to have to ask someone for some ink and paper.

Nezuko pulled herself off the floor, wincing at the way her sore body protested at the action and walked to the door. There was a slight limp whenever she put pressure on her wrapped left foot. She nearly forgot that was the foot she used to push herself off of the tree that got struck by lightning.

She adjusted her yukata and tried to smooth down her hair in what she hoped looked semi-decent for whichever Rengoku she would inevitably interact with to get her letter materials.

Nezuko took a beat to steel herself to leave the room, slid open the door—

And found Senjuro standing right outside the room, one hand raised to knock.

“Oh!” Senjuro squeaked and took a big step back. “Sorry! I uh, I-I just wanted to make sure you were doing okay.”

“No no, you’re fine!” Nezuko said, quick to hide her surprise at the boy’s unexpected appearance. He did look a lot better than when they had first arrived at the estate, wearing a yellow yukata and hakama pants with a few bandage wrappings around his forehead and hands. “I was actually going to look for you. Or, someone, I guess.”

“Oh, did you need something? Or were you looking for the bath…” Senjuro trailed off as his eyes flickered to her hair. His eyebrows twitched as if he was about to squint or widen his eyes in shock, but quickly schooled his expression into something that looked a little too neutral. “Um, the bathroom? ‘Cause it’s down the—”

Nezuko shook her head. “No, it’s okay. I was actually going to ask if I could borrow some ink and paper? To send a message back home.”

Senjuro’s eyes widened at that, and he nodded. “Right, we should send that now.” He began walking back the way he came. “Come on, I’ve got some stuff in my room you can use.”

“Okay.”

Nezuko followed him into the room right next to hers. It was definitely his room, considering it had more furniture and a few different yukatas and kimonos folded neatly in a corner. His desk was slightly larger than hers was and covered in parchment that ranged from what looked like letters to calligraphy work. There were even two practice bokkens propped against the wall.

“Sorry about the mess.” The boy hurriedly moved around the room, picking up anything on the floor and setting it aside before moving to clean the desk. “I didn’t get a chance to put stuff away before I left for Final Selection.” He briefly glanced at Nezuko still hovering by the doorway. “You can come in. Sorry, I—” He stood and some of the papers from a large stack he had been holding slipped from his grasp and scattered the floor. “Crap! I mean crud–er, sorry sorry!”

“Here, let me help.” Nezuko crossed the room and knelt to pick up the fallen papers. As she did, one smaller page caught her eye. She handed Senjuro the rest as she stared at it, realizing that it was an old photograph.

She immediately recognized Ruka, and what must have been Senjuro as a child with a bright beaming smile (albeit with a few teeth missing). The boy was standing in front of her and a tall, very imposing man that bore a striking resemblance to the boy but with longer flame-colored hair tied back. He wore a flame-patterned cape and had an arm wrapped around Ruka, a proud smile staring back.

They looked so happy in the photograph.

“What are you looking at?” Senjuro asked when he noticed Nezuko hadn’t moved from her spot.

“This.” Nezuko handed him the photo. “It looks like an old family picture.”

Senjuro squinted at the photo. Then his expression fell and his face turned beet red.

“Oh gods.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing!” He swiped the photo from her hand and held it close to his chest so she couldn’t see the image anymore. They stood in awkward silence for a few beats before the boy spoke again. “Uh, sorry, that was rude.”

“It’s…fine?” Nezuko’s gaze drifted to the photo hidden from her, then back to her friend. “I probably shouldn’t have been looking through your stuff. Sorry about that.”

“No no! You’re fine, I swear! It’s just…” the boy struggled to speak before settling on a groan and burying his face in one hand. “It was just a really embarrassing picture.”

Nezuko cocked her head. “What do you mean? I thought you looked fine.”

“Huh?” Senjuro peeked up at her in disbelief and showed her the photo again. “You thought that face looked fine?”

“Uh, yes?” Nezuko pointed to the little boy smiling between the adults. “See? You look totally normal.”

Maybe it was the missing teeth? Or how his hair still looked a bit unruly despite obvious attempts to make it look presentable? In her eyes, there was nothing wrong with the little boy smiling back at her.

Senjuro followed her finger, stared at the boy in confusion, and sighed in defeat.

“That’s not me.” 

“...what?”

“That’s Kyojuro.” He took her finger and dragged it across the photograph until it rested on Ruka’s arms. “That’s me.”

Nezuko leaned in closer, and sure enough, noticed that the woman was holding a small bundle. A small pudgy face poked out from the blankets, hair and eyes identical to the man and boy with them. 

Nezuko was about to ask what exactly Senjuro was embarrassed about when she gasped and slammed a hand over her mouth to prevent any other startled sounds from escaping.

The baby’s eyes were huge and watery, caught between a squint and wide-eyed stare at the camera. She couldn’t tell if he was about to yawn or cry or scream with the way his mouth was open, making his cheeks puff out and turning his face red.

He honestly looked like a smushed tomato.

“What happened?” Nezuko managed to muster out, regretting her words a second later. “I mean, I don’t think it’s as bad as you…I mean…uh…”

Senjuro stuffed the photo in his yukata, red face deliberately turned away from Nezuko. “I…went through a phase as a kid where I would start crying anytime someone tried to take my picture. Or, would just make a really weird face. So family portrait stuff like that was always a challenge.”

“Ah,” Nezuko nodded while attempting to get her face into something less thrown off by seeing one of her friend’s embarrassing baby photos. “Well, I’m sure that’s normal. Kids go through phases all the time.” She thought for a second, then came up with, “I actually went through a period where I refused to wear shoes outside.”

“...Nezuko, no offense, but I don’t think that’s the same thing.”

Oh…maybe he had a point.

Desperate to change the subject and spare her friend any more embarrassment about the ordeal, Nezuko shook her head and pointed to the desk. “So, uh, paper and ink…?”

“Right!” Senjuro practically dove to the desk. He rummaged around for a minute before finally fishing out some blank paper with an ink bottle and brush. “Here, go ahead.”

Nezuko murmured a “thank you,” and knelt at the desk. Without any more hesitation, she dipped the brush in the ink and scrawled out a quick message getting straight to the point.

Dear Sensei,

It’s me, Nezuko!

I passed Final Selection!

Apologies for writing this rather than coming back in person, but I got a really bad injury on my side from a rough fight with an incredibly powerful demon. I’m pretty sure I was going to pass out if I kept walking, so a friend of mine, Senjuro Rengoku, is letting me stay at his family’s estate at least for the night.

I know the agreement I had with Kaigaku was to be back by sunrise tomorrow morning, but I don’t think I’ll have the energy to make the rest of the journey without traveling at night.

Please let him know that I am well and alive, and should be back within the next few days, with the soonest being tomorrow.

She paused, about to end the letter there, but then added a little more.

There’s so much I want to talk to you about, and I hope you can forgive me for not following through on all of your wishes.

But please know, I kept my end of the deal, and even if I’m not there, look after my brother.

Take care and I’ll see you soon,

Nezuko Kamado

“There! Done!” Nezuko set the brush down and the paper aside to let the ink dry.

Senjuro leaned over her shoulder to briefly glance at the note before moving back around his room to continue cleaning (all while keeping his still-burning face away from Nezuko). “Do you need my mother to send a message with your letter as well? So your trainer has more proof about your injury?”

Nezuko mulled it over briefly, then shook her head. “Nah, I think this’ll be enough. My master knows that I know what can happen when I try to be reckless with pushing myself.” She suddenly frowned. “Then again, Kaigaku might not believe it…”

She had no idea where her master’s former student was at the moment, or what time he would be arriving at the orchard to confirm if Nezuko had survived. For all she knew, he was at the small house now, waiting to see if she would come stumbling home.

What if he got impatient and only waited until sunset? What if the message didn’t come in time? What if Tanjiro was already—

No. Nope. Not going down that train of thought.

Breathe, just focus on—

There was a knock and Senjuro’s door slid open.

“Senjuro! Mother wished to know if your friend—” the voice paused, and when Nezuko broke herself away from her spiraling thoughts, found it was Kyojuro. “Oh, hello Miss Kamado! Apologies for the intrusion.”

“Just Nezuko is fine,” she said, turning to Senjuro’s older brother. She noticed a dark tabby cat was cradled in his arm. Its amber eyes flickered to her, prompting the feline to lift its head a bit more and stare at her curiously.

It was kind of funny, even more so given the way Kyojuro’s red and gold eyes widened and stared at her with an eerily similar expression.

“Brother! Give us more warning next time!” Senjuro said with a mix of surprise and exasperation. His eyes landed on the cat his older brother was holding and his voice lowered to a whisper as if someone was listening to their conversation. “We’re not supposed to bring Kaname indoors! What is he doing here?”

Kyojuro didn’t answer that. Rather, he frowned at Nezuko and said quite bluntly, “What happened to her hair?”

“Brother!”

“What? I was just wondering why—”

“Because there’s nothing wrong with it!” Senjuro practically hissed. He kept trying to give his older brother a look while not-so-subtly nodding to Nezuko. “It’s fine and there’s nothing to make a big deal out of and it’s—”

“Pink.”

“BROTHER!”