Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Times when our happiness is broken, always have the scent of blood.

Tanjirou quickens his footsteps, matching a sprint the moment his nose picks up on the scent of blood coming from the direction of his home.

His mind jumps to conclusions. It was far too much blood to be normal. It was possible one of his younger siblings may have accidentally chopped their hand while cutting firewood, or maybe one had fallen and hit their elbow on something sharp while playing.

Perhaps it had been a bear who couldn’t hibernate for winter. His mind recalls a memory of his father slaying a feral bear that nearly crept up on their home when he was young. Tanjirou was supposed to protect them, now that he was gone. Without him home something terrible could have happened.

He runs as quick as possible, adrenaline making his head light with fear, and as he gets closer and closer.

He finds himself faced with the sight of the grotesque remains of his family.

Horror stories of demons told just the night previous from the old man in the village resurface. He feels a sickening sense of terror rise in his chest.

Mother, Hanako, Takeo, Shigeru, Nezuko, Rokuta.

Nezuko.

He finds a nightmare awaiting him, and he lets himself release a sob, angry and pitiful, before pulling himself together and acting.

He can find time to mourn later, when it is quiet and his blood is pounding just a little less. Because Nezuko still feels warm.

He still has Nezuko. He still has his little sister.

He pulls his sister’s body onto his back, tilting forward precariously as he runs down the mountain to compensate for the imbalance on his back. It was painful to breathe, with how frozen the air was. His heart hurt. His legs hurt. But he had to keep moving faster, keeping going further and further down the mountain until he was certain his sister would survive–

An animalistic scream interrupts his thoughts, as Nezuko wakes with a protest in her throat.

He slips and falls onto snow below.

Nezuko stands momentarily frozen in front of him, her head cast downwards in a morbid serenity that allows for her hair to cover her face. She looks peaceful for all of three seconds, before she launches herself at him, all sharp teeth and claws.

He brings the handle of his family’s axe into her mouth, preventing her from hurting him, and Tanjirou finds his mind racing to understand what is happening. Without a doubt, this person is a demon. But just as well, this was also his little sister. There is a sudden silence between the two of them, as Nezuko stops trying to attack him and Tanjirou finds his breath leaving him.

Tears hit his face softly as Nezuko looks down at him with pain behind her eyes.

She was there, to watch their entire family get attacked.

While he was warm inside the old man’s home last night, sleeping peacefully, everyone else had been…

The only warning he receives is the soft sound of snow crunching, and the smell of an ocean crashing, as a swordsman descends on them suddenly.

When Tanjirou wakes up, his face is red and sharp from where he lays in the snow. He has one hand clutching Nezuko protectively, tears that had trickled and froze in both of their eyes.

“Are you awake?” A voice calls.

He turns around, sharply and suddenly, instinctively grabbing Nezuko to protect her. It takes him a moment to realize it's the same swordsman from before. The man stands partly hidden by the tree in front of him with careful eyes watching them.

The swordsman looks them up and down with a blank face. His exterior lacks any emotion he may have spared earlier while yelling at Tanjirou before in annoyance. He looks like the definition of calm and collected.

“Visit the elder named Urokodaki Sakonji living at the foot of the misty mountain.” He says. “Tell him Tomioka Giyuu sent you.”

The man hesitates for a moment, before, without another word, disappearing in a kick up of snow.

His smell lingers, Tanjirou notes, but the man does not make himself visible. He supposes this is another test of sorts, like the one he had sort of given him with wielding his axe to defend his sister.

Tanjirou tries not to feel too bitter towards the swordsman– Tomioka, he supposes– seeing as he had been kind enough to spare Nezuko in the end. And the man had not been entirely wrong with his initial assessment of her being a feral demon.

He knows, logically, that Tomioka had done nothing exceptionally wrong, but he still feels a bit aggrieved with all these backhanded tests. He knows the man must still be lingering around them, perhaps in the trees, waiting to see what he will do.

It was just past dawn when he arrived at his home. Now, the sun was positioned mid-sky through the cloudy overcast. The man must’ve even waited a good couple of hours while they were unconscious to deliver the instructions.

For some reason, it annoys him greatly.

Tanjirou hates feeling ill towards anyone, but the stress of the morning makes him feel put out and exhausted. He wishes he had more time than he was given to process what had happened to his family.

He grabs Nezuko, and decides with a huff that they still have some time before departing.

The path towards their home is rooted deep enough in his bones that Tanjirou hardly needs to even think about where he’s going. He makes his way back towards their home, with the weight of the morning still sinking like a stone in his stomach. Each step fills him with uncertainty, as he is reminded of the grim scene waiting for him there. He wishes he could take Nezuko and not have to see the crime scene the demon had left behind in the shapes of their family, but he keeps his head held high and lips bitten shut. He is the eldest son– it would be shameful, if he were to let his family rot in their home unattended.

First, he will bury his family, and then, he will become a demon slayer, and find a way to cure Nezuko.

He sees their home appear in his line of vision once more. The entryway consists of broken walls, and a trail of broken household objects used to put up a fight pollute his home.

Yet– the scent of blood is lighter, fainter.

Shaky hands slide the door open to allow him further into the home, and with surprise, he finds the walls have been scrubbed clean from the red paint he had seen that morning. Realization begins to hit him, and he rushes outside to find it.

He notices that on the nondescript lot to the side of the house, graves have already been dug. A layer of fresh dirt covering him from having to see his siblings’ innards once more. The smell of blood is lighter, replaced with the smell of fresh rain lingering among the tree tops.

Ah, Tanjirou realizes as tears rush to his eyes. Tomioka must have found our house and took care of the bodies for us…

Any ire felt moments before are quickly replaced by a tremendous wave of gratitude. Tanjirou owes it to Tomioka for pushing him and Nezuko to continue forward.

He takes a deep breath, and tries to force his negative emotions out. He is overwhelmed with grief, but now he has a carefully laid out path of where the future will lead him. He grabs his sister’s hand once more, and begins to move towards their destination with steps steady in their bravery, and pretends not to notice the presence of a careful observer from afar.

Two letters drafted and delivered quickly by an old crow:

Oyakata-sama,

Forgive me for the matter I am writing to you.

Given to me was a mission concerning a demon sensed lurking in the mountains. I had arrived too late to save a family who lived in isolation on the same mountain. Yet, upon my arrival, I encountered two survivors. The eldest son, who had spent the night in the village. And the eldest daughter, who had been turned into a demon.

The demon girl was newly turned, and had not yet consumed a single human. I went to slice her neck, when the demon did something I was not expecting, and moved to protect her brother from myself.

I have determined that this demon will not cause harm to humans. As such, I have sent the boy, who wishes to become a demon slayer, and his sister, to my old master and retired water hashira, Urokodaki Sakonji. I did not let the pair out of my sight until they had arrived, and firmly believe I am right in my evaluation of the two.

I am writing to receive your wisdom. If you believe it's best to end the girl’s life nonetheless, I will follow your orders. Her brother and I will slice our stomachs open to atone for being so forward, if you wish it.

My apologies for bringing this matter to you,
Water Hashira, Tomioka Giyuu

As well as a second letter, written in after thought of the first with quicker hands;

I have sent a boy and his sister to you. It is my judgement that the sister, a demon, will not harm humans. I ask of you to train the boy in becoming a demon slayer so he may avenge his family, who I had been too late to save.

Sorry.
Tomioka Giyuu.

Chapter Text

Within the Water Estate stands a home barren, an astounding lack of furnishings or belongings identifying its solitude. The owner is rare to reside there for more than a few nights at a time, in between empty missions, and guests are even more rare to come by.

A plain futon laid out in an empty room. A teapot lacking decorum standing on top of a dated stove. Dry pre-made meals delivered and stacked, ready to be taken with him on missions at any moment. One set of casual clothes rarely used. Outside, a garden overgrown with lack of intervention. On him, he carries a haori memorializing the dead, and a thin stack of letters wrapped tight in excess maroon fabric.

Giyuu never saw much appeal to materialism.

He sits upright, knees politely tucked under his body, in the open training room of his home. The walls are chipping slightly from decades of lack of upkeep, the wood floors stained with slight indents from the weight of breath forms being practiced indoors, but the windows are large and allow sunlight to hit him just right that this room remains his favorite nonetheless.

It has been a number of weeks since he had put his neck on the line and spared a demon. It was incredibly risky of him, and out of character. He had given the boy and his sister vague instructions he wished them to follow, directing the pair’s arrival to his old teacher, and observed from a distance of snow painted trees how they performed. He recalls having the need to reassure himself he was correct in the observation he made at the moment the demon was docile. If he was wrong, and the boy ended up being devoured the second he looked away, he wouldn’t forgive himself for his foolishness.

It only took the children two nights to find his old master. Giyuu pretended not to notice the brother’s good deeds done for a stranger he knew was following them. Tanjirou chose at each meal to leave half of the food he purchased or gathered to the side in case someone else was traveling with them. The very first night, he had thanked the trees with no face for saving his sister as he left a small bowl of rice a distance away.

The boy’s kindness knew no bounds, if he was trying to befriend Giyuu, of all people.

He knew he made the right choice saving the two.

In terms of the demon, her own kindness was proven more than he expected, with Nezuko becoming increasingly easier to handle as she allowed her brother to carry her on his back all day. He watched the two carry on their journey with a nurturing sense of protectiveness he wasn’t expecting. He had followed them with initial skepticism, turned to worry, of all things, until they arrived to Urokodaki.

Once he saw the familiar tengu mask, his cowardliness expressed itself once more and he fled at once, without uttering a single greeting or goodbye to anyone. He had a feeling his old teacher sensed him nearby, nonetheless, in the split second before he fled the scene. But he didn’t stay long enough to allow confrontation.

It had been years since he last saw his teacher. He doesn’t think he could handle hearing Urokodaki’s disappointment for him now any better than he could’ve right after his selection. He had left this home many years ago, when he went to take the final selection, and he had long since found the hill he’ll die on.

(The knowledge of which of his master’s children deserved the right to a happy life weighs on him.)

It’s been some time since he left the siblings in his teacher’s hands, and Giyuu finds himself worrying about the two more than he’s worried about anyone since…

An unfamiliar crow interrupts his thoughts as it flies in and pecks him square in the face.

“Report to Oyakata-sama concerning your recent letter,” the crow squawks. “Report at once to Oyakata-sama.”

With a weary sigh, Giyuu stands and swipes dust off his uniform. He was half-expecting something like this, sooner or later.

“It’s been several weeks since you sent me a letter regarding a pair of siblings you saved.” Oyakata-sama begins.

Giyuu nods once to confirm, and the Ubuyashiki head smiles. There is a stilted sort of silence hanging in the air. An awkward tension between the mysterious leader of the corps, who always stays one step ahead with generations of cards tucked under his sleeve, and the pillar who is stuck living a life wasted on him when another was much more qualified.

“How are the childrens’ progress coming along?” Oyakata-sama tilts his head in question, and Giyuu turns his face away.

He doesn’t know how to explain that he had pretty much dumped personally overseeing them onto Urokodaki’s hands and fled, much like he usually does. But Ubuyashiki reads his avoidance of eye contact as answer enough, and laughs softly.

“Hm. I had thought you were taking full responsibility for the siblings, based on your letter.”

“I do take full responsibility for them.” Giyuu responds, and immediately cringes over the tone his words escape him in.

“From afar?” Oyakata-sama asks. He pauses, waiting for a reply that Giyuu doesn’t have. “I see. If nothing has changed, then, you are free to go.”

Giyuu takes the dismissal for what it is. He can read the underlying tone of disappointment the master must have with him for not making bolder choices. He wants to kick himself for once again making all the wrong choices in a delicate situation. He always seems to make the wrong choices— always lacking just enough to bring disappointment from others.

“Before you go,” Oyakata-sama adds as a passing thought, as Giyuu stands by the exit about to make his leave. “It’s an idea I have, that you should think about making the boy your tsuguko, if you would like to guarantee their protection. The rest of the corps won’t be as accepting of a boy and his demon sister as you are.”

“I see, Oyakata-sama.”

Nothing else is said from either of them, and he quietly departs from the headquarters.

Giyuu will admit to himself that when he first saw Tanjirou, the idea of making the boy his tsuguko had first come to mind. It would be righteous, he thinks, having someone who is so much better than him replace his position as the Water Pillar. Giyuu is really nothing more than a seat warmer for a more competent water pillar to come along someday.

When he saw Tanjirou wield his family’s axe and defend his sister, he saw potential. In the short amount of time he spent observing Tanjirou, he saw many things in him. Kindness so genuine it took him aback; concern for others that made the world a little sunnier; and a sense of justice so strong it reminded him of a boy with peach hair. Tanjirou was strong, and he would only become stronger as he grew. He would make a great pillar one day, with some years of training and experience under his belt.

But if all his years spent as not only a hashira, but also as someone who was raised in a world where demons attack the innocent, it had taught him one thing and one thing only— the world was dangerous for kind people.

The idea of giving Tanjirou his spot as a pillar of the demon slayers organization makes him slightly nauseous. The boy may be much more deserving of the title and praise the position would give him. But he was equally undeserving of the pain it would serve to bring him.

He wonders, briefly, if he had consequently doomed the siblings by introducing them to the world of demon slaying corps. Perhaps someone wiser would have chosen to hide the siblings and let them live a peaceful life somewhere away from demons and humans alike. Then he remembers once again the fury in Tanjirou’s eyes when he realized his sister had been turned into something inhuman, the boy’s wish to cure her against all odds, and he knows that a civilian life was not meant for these two. At least not anymore.

Giyuu didn’t realize he had become such a sentimental person, wasting his thoughts imagining kinder timelines.

He shakes his thoughts clear, and enters his kitchen first as he approaches his estate. Gently, he sets the tea kettle on the stove top flame to let the water begin to boil. He’s running a little low on his favorite tea leaves, he notes, as he plucks around his pathetically barren cabinets. He looks around for something he could make with the tea for his evening meal, and is reminded once again how little he actually cares for his estate. He manages to find and put some rice and soup to cook with his tea, and reminds himself to purchase groceries tomorrow. It’s all rather bland.

God. Even something as basic as dinner is pathetic when Giyuu attempts the routine.

He lets his mind wander once more as he moves about to make everything. He thinks about what Oyakata-sama said, about making Tanjirou his tsuguko.

Would giving the boy a title of strength cause him to be given riskier assignments? Even if Giyuu kept his role up as a fill-in hashira to protect the boy from having to take over once away, (and maybe he was being selfish for that, because he knows with a truthful security that the boy would be much better at the job than him), being a tsuguko usually put you a step above other slayers, even those the same technical rank as you. If he acknowledges the strength Tanjirou has, would he be jinxing the boy before he even had a chance to start?

But what else was it Oyakata-sama had said?

“The rest of the corps won’t be as accepting of a boy and his demon sister as you are.”

Giyuu knows that. It’s been a thorn prickling in the back of his mind since he took them in. He knows Urokodaki is a kind, compassionate man, who has already gone through the trouble of raising someone as incompetent as Giyuu was. A pair of slightly troublesome siblings wasn’t going to be much for his master to accept once he got to know them.

But what about others in the corps?

The lower ranking population, filled with slayers by the masses who fear demons enough to take up a sword, all because they’ve been hurt before by monsters of the night. Most don’t even have a breath style, as far as Giyuu has heard, or if they do, they haven’t mastered the style to completion. Yet they all still choose to protect others, despite the risk it brings to themselves. From young and desperate to older and cynical. Would any of them be willing to accept Tanjirou and Nezuko?

But even more worrisome to consider are his fellow hashira. Those adequate enough to represent everything Giyuu isn’t. They all already hate him— and he knows this as a definite fact. While his own words fall flat whenever he tries to vocalize his intentions and feelings, he is perfectly capable of understanding those around him.

(He sees it in the way they stopped inviting him out after his second decline. The way they expect him not to show up to meetings unless someone drags him when time comes. Insults thrown around casually behind his back when he doesn’t talk, and then sighs and snickers when he does. Even the kindest pillars, Rengoku and Kanroji with hearts of gold, barely tolerate him as is. And Shinobu only sticks around him during missions because she enjoys teasing and bothering him whenever she finds it possible.)

He is painfully aware of where he stands when it comes to his colleagues. But he can’t really fault them for the way they hate him, anyway.

With a realization, he thinks he may understand what Oyakata-sama was trying to get him to understand with his recommendation.

Being a pillar’s tsuguko is not only a sign of strength to be flaunted, but a sign of protection as well. Lower ranking slayers knew what it meant to be a tsuguko, and respected their authority nearly as much as the hashira. And in regards to his fellow pillars, it was against the rules (both those left unspoken through comradery and those written down on page with ink) not to trouble a pillar’s tsuguko unless you spoke to the pillar in charge of them about it first. And, well. It’s not like many of them were speaking to Giyuu anyway.

It would be dangerous to put Tanjirou in the position of his successor, but Giyuu was beginning to see Oyakata-sama’s perspective on the matter. The idea still makes him feel ill, more or less endangering the siblings he already swore to protect. But once Tanjirou passes his selection and begins to receive missions he has to collaborate with other slayers on, the title would probably have some merits.

(And he tries very hard not to think about that– the final selection part of the plan. He had been avoiding thinking about Tanjirou having to take the final selection one day since he unceremoniously abandoned the pair to his master. If he thinks too hard about the boy taking up a fox mask and ascending the mountain, he thinks he may really be ill this time around. He can’t let history repeat itself, feels it in the way his gut twists at the thought of Tanjirou following the path of other brave children with fox masks, but there isn’t much he can do without making matters worse. He has a bad habit of failing to protect those around him.)

Giyuu doesn’t think he’s ready to formally claim Tanjirou as his tsuguko.

The village closest to the water estate was small, relatively speaking. Still, it had more than enough shops for Giyuu to find everything he regularly needed, whenever he gathered the courage to spend some of his hefty hashira salary.

The water estate, while seeming isolated in comparison to the fact several other pillars were literal neighbors, was not far from the others by any means.

In general, every hashira is asked to either build an estate for themselves, or to occupy an unused pre-existing estate, located in the same general region as Ubuyashiki’s home and headquarters. It made sense for the corporation to have a centralized body, he supposes.

Headquarters’ region is loosely defined by the five estates of the original breathing forms. Flame, wind, stone, thunder, and water. Their five estates surround the main mansion by some miles in each direction. With each generation of pillars either maintaining a hashira of each breath, or one of a close derivative, it stands that the main Ubuyashiki mansion is generally protected by a pillar nearby at all times.

His estate lies a few miles to the east of the main mansion, roughly taking him just under two hours to arrive at the mansion when meetings occur.

By no intentional choice (he hopes) most of the pillars live further from him than they all do to one another.

The Flame Estate lies across from him in location, protecting the west side of headquarters proudly with its warmth. It also serves primarily as the Rengoku family home, seeing as the family has held the hashira title in their lineage for as long as can be, with multiple successors every generation.

The Love Estate is located uncomfortably close to the Flame Estate. From what Giyuu overheard once, Mitsuri wanted to be neighbors with her mentor.

To the south, the Stone Estate remains sturdy, giving part of the territory to the newly built Serpent Estate. To the north, the Thunder Estate (which Giyuu heard Uzui took over for convenience’s sake and converted to some sort of sex dungeon palace– who knows what’s true and what the flamboyant man spread for drama’s sake), as well as Wind Estate.

The Butterfly Estate is an exception to pillars using their homes to surround headquarters, located in the center with the Ubuyashiki mansion. Kanae was ambitious in her goal of creating a place of healing for all of them to access easily.

And in comparison, The Water Estate is not as ambitious as the others. It is not a place of astounding accomplishments like Shinobu’s. Nor is it a home like Rengoku and Mitsuri’s.

It protects the border facing the shore quietly. Each generation has had a water hashira with the breath style being the most common, and the estate is simply an artifact of demon slaying history.

It’s alright— he doesn’t need company during his time off. He just needs to keep the manor standing until a better pillar comes along to claim it.

Besides, he’s fairly sure his estate is closest to Iguro and Shinazugawa.

Finding out scares him, so he leaves it up to fate whether he’s right.

Thankfully, he has never seen Iguro nor Shinazugawa on his visits to the nearby village. It’s an hour’s walk further to the east until his feet hit sand. A small fishing village lives along the shore. The village is calm, and Giyuu finds himself grateful for its existence whenever he comes by to restock his necessities.

He runs through what he came to purchase today; tea leaves, rice, miso paste, fish, cooking oil, and… just about everything, he recalls. He really did not have much at home.

The ocean brings cold drafts towards the village with every wave that hits shore. Vendors sit outside their shops with worn chairs that creak every time they warm their hands together. Customers stroll by in groups together, mothers with children bouncing along and couples leaning towards one another. It’s just a few hours past the break of dawn.

Giyuu doesn’t make it a habit to linger in the village longer than he needs to. He rarely talks to anyone here, other than elders who occasionally stop him and drag the words out of him. He doesn’t want to ruin the peace the village has found among one another, so he chooses to take up an observer’s role.

He heads towards the shop he knows carries a wide array of household items, to begin his shopping trip.

Hours pass, as he bounces the shops and stalls littering the streets until his arms feel heavy with the weight of his haul. It should be more than enough that he won’t need to make this trip again for another month and a half. He feels both relief and a tinge of sadness in that thought. As much as he may begrudge these trips, they really are soothing.

He’s about to turn towards the direction he came from and head back towards his home when something catches his eye.

“Would you like a look?” The vendor flashes a smile. “I’m selling all sorts of pretty things imported from across the country. Buy something to surprise your loved ones!”

Giyuu wants to respond with a flat I don’t have any loved ones. but he stops himself. He steps closer despite him to see the trinket that caught his eye originally.

It was a hairpin set, pink and shiny with jewels in the shape of a flower on each end.

“Pretty, right?” The vendor leans in closer. “I’ll cut you a deal on the price, if you find something else to buy with it.”

Giyuu doesn’t know why he stopped the stare at such an item. It’s not as if he has any use for it. But then he recalls the way Nezuko’s hair covered her face constantly during their fight, and figures, well. It would be a practical gift for the girl.

He looks around the other items on the stall, seeing if he can even find something interesting enough for him to take the vendor up on the deal. He finds two more objects that catch his eye— a scarf, made up of a dark green silk with red embroidery along the seams, and a small, wooden carved fox.

He ends up leaving the village with a few extra items.

He may not be great at buying things for himself, but he finds the idea of gifting things to others much easier.

“Urokodaki-san!” Tanjirou calls out. “There’s a, um, crow walking in circles out here.”

“Hm?” Urokodaki puts down the wood he was chopping, and looks towards Tanjirou. He’s had the boy running forms just outside the front of the hut for the last few hours. Near his student’s feet, a nearly geriatric crow runs in circles as it squawks obnoxiously. It flaps around, unbalanced by the package it carries. A pathetic creature, in some honesty.

It seems Giyuu’s crow has come to deliver something.

“Relax.” He tells his student who has forgotten his practice sword to stare at the unstable crow prancing about. “It’s just Giyuu’s crow delivering something.”

“Ah! Tomioka-san?” Tanjirou looks far too excited to drop his practice and investigate the package from the older boy.

“Yes.” Urokodaki steps forward and allows the crow to drop the package into his extended hand. The crow squawks some more before flying off in what he’s fairly sure is the wrong direction it came from.

“What is it?” Tanjirou asks.

“Let’s take a look,” Urokodaki leads the boy inside, and they take a seat near Nezuko’s sleeping form. The sky still has some light out, but the hut remains dark for the girl’s sake, so he flicks the oil lamp on to get a clear look at what had been delivered to them. Tanjirou stares at the package like it’s a gift from the heavens. Urokodaki hides a laugh under his breath.

“You can open it.” He tells the boy fidgeting to his right.

“Ah! Okay!” Tanjirou takes a hold of the package and carefully unwraps the parcel holding everything together. “‘Happy New Year.’ Wasn’t the New Year over a month ago…?”

“It probably got lost on the way here.” He doesn’t know if it’s particularly true or not, but the boy accepts the reason easily.

“That makes sense. Let’s see… Oh! He’s sent presents for all of us!”

“He has?” Urokodaki asks. It was uncharacteristic of his student to give the shortest of replies to the letters he frequently sends, nevermind send a gift back. He could securely count on one hand the total number of letters and gifts he had received from his child in the last six years.

“Yeah, look!” Tanjirou places something into his hand. “This is for you, he says. The scarf is for me. He said it’s so I can stay warm while I train outside. And he got these hairpins for Nezuko, to hold back her hair. Tomioka-san is so thoughtful!”

Urokodaki nods as stares down at the little wooden fox in his hand. Ah, perhaps he’s forgotten how caring Giyuu could be sometimes.

Chapter Text

In order of things Giyuu despises most, it goes: Losing loved ones, (most) demons, pet dogs, and pillar meetings.

Two weeks after his private visit with Oyakata-sama, a pillar meeting was due on the calendar. It gave him just enough time between his time at headquarters to slay a demon a few days' travel away and return in time to meet with his fellow hashira.

Was it too late to let the demon kill him so he didn’t have to attend?

Still, despite his begrudgement of pillar meetings, he’s yet to miss one to date. Meetings are mandatory to attend, technically, but when he first became a hashira he was one of few to actually attend. Many pillars at that time would miss meetings to take up extra missions, train newcomers, sleep the day away, party, drink— just about anything that meant they wouldn’t have to attend pillar meetings. Before Rengoku took over for his father the year prior, Giyuu never even knew they had a current flame hashira.

Oyakata-sama never seemed to mind if a pillar was absent during his meetings. Still, Giyuu would never dare to be so improper as to skip them himself, less he was bleeding out in a ditch somewhere. He tries not to run the water pillar through the mud more than he already is by holding the position.

Even if it did sound really good to skip pillar meetings altogether.

He still firmly believes himself to be a seat holder for another, better, breath of water user to come along someday. Until that day actually came, he stuck fulfilling his duties properly as a hashira.

Still, he can’t help but envy those pillars bold enough to skip meetings altogether. When he was initiated as a hashira for the first time, little over three years ago, his first meeting only dragged out three of the nine pillars to arrive at the manor— Himejima, Uzui, and Kanae. He never actually met any of the other pillars of that time, and it wasn’t like he would be getting the choice to now.

The current generation of pillars were weird compared to when he started. Always socializing and such. Odd.

“Look who finally arrived.” Shinazugawa huffs. He’s not sure what he’s done to make him angry already.

“Yes. I arrived.” Giyuu replies.

For some reason, it makes the wind pillar even angrier.

Uzui lets out a laugh from a few feet away from
him. “Man. It never gets old.”

Giyuu continues by pretending he understands what Uzui meant, at all, and quietly sits at the end of the line where he usually is.

“Tomioka,” a high-pitched voice, not all that dissimilar to the buzzing of a mosquito, says. “Nice to see you’ve decided to come.”

Giyuu turns to look at Shinobu, confused. Before he can question what she’s talking about, like at all, Ubuyashiki enters.

“Good morning, children.” Oyakata-sama directs their attention to him. “This meeting will be quick.”

That’s a relief, Giyuu thinks. There’s no set standard for these sorts of meetings. Some take no longer than a few minutes to announce the peaceful retirement of a pillar, or a few hours to mourn the loss of another. But others are days long retreats Oyakata-sama will hold to, essentially, force them all to take a break and pray with him. To this day he still has nightmares about the three-day hashira retreat where he was forced to share a spare room with Rengoku and Shinazugawa. For three nights.

Giyuu feels relieved with the announcement that this meeting will be quick. Hopefully he’ll return to his estate soon— his old crow is expected to return with new letters Tanjirou and Urokodaki have been sending him. He’d really hate for them to get delivered around the others.

Ubuyashiki draws their attention.

“We have a new pillar joining us today.”

Interesting, he notes. There’s been more hashira joining them in the last year than normal— Rengoku just over a year ago, then Iguro some months after, quickly followed by Mitsuri two months ago. Mitsuri only just had her estate finished being furnished a few weeks ago.

“Already?” Iguro asks.

“Indeed.” Oyakata-sama. “He’s a bit inexperienced, as he’s only been in our ranks for two months. He reached the fifty mark quota in no time.”

“Two months..?” Mitsuri whispers to herself. “Is that even possible?”

“He must be very strong to accomplish that!” Rengoku adds.

Oyakata-sama hums. “Indeed.”

There’s a rest of silence, before the sound of footsteps approaching them nears. After a few moments, the door behind Ubuyashiki opens to reveal someone.

The leader smiles and tilts his head forward, “Everyone, I’d like to introduce Tokito Muichirou. He’ll be the mist pillar from now on.”

“Good morning, Oyakata-sama.”

The first thing Giyuu notes about this is that there is a young child standing in front of him.

“How old is he?” Shinazugawa asks. His default tone of growly and angry makes an appearance, but for once Giyuu finds himself understanding why. He thinks he may be a little angry too.

Rengoku frowns, a rare expression for the overzealous man. “You can’t be much older than Senjuro…”

“Twelve.” Muichirou answers plainly.

Himejima mutters something that sounds like a prayer.

“I’m old enough.” Muichirou dulls out even replies, and his eyes seem distant. Giyuu looks him over and notices with a taste of acid that the kid seems to still be recovering from some injury— a gauze taped to his cheek and old bandages wrapped along his arms. Was it from a recent mission?

“Yeah, right.” Shinazugawa says. “You’re barely old enough to tie your own uniform, let alone—“

“It’s fine.” Oyakata-sama says. “He fills the requirement.”

“Isn’t there an age requirement to be considered?” Iguro asks.

“No. While most pillars are eighteen, or close to, when they get promoted, not all are. Shinobu was fourteen when she took over for her sister. Tomioka was fifteen when I asked him to become the water pillar. Shinazugawa was sixteen when he defeated a lower moon.” The master pauses, in thought. “Muichirou is, of course, the youngest we’ve ever had rise to the rank of hashira. But like I’ve said, he’s more than qualified.”

Silence fills the area as everyone digests the information. If by the Ubuyashiki head’s logic, the boy’s age was not an issue, excessively arguing otherwise would be disrespectful.

Still…

“That will be all for today,” Oyakata-sama tells them. “I simply called you all here today to introduce Muichirou-kun.”

“Thank you, Oyakata-sama.”

When meetings are officially over with, Giyuu typically leaves the estate as soon as physically possible. But with his new disease called overthinking that the Kamados infected him with, his movements are staggered to leave.

He can’t help but note that Muichirou is around the same age as Nezuko.

While he’d hardly known the girl before he found her a bloodthirsty monster, since his first package of gifts, Tanjirou has taken permission to send him multiple letters a week. He regularly receives letters about the boy’s training, the weather on the mountain that day, what Urokodaki had made for dinner— just about anything the boy seems to think of. He rambles on endlessly across the limitless supply of paper Ukorodaki must keep. His teacher sends letters too, of course, but his are more concise, updates about how the boy’s training is going and well wishes for his missions.

Giyuu is hardly a good response, never writing more than a few lines of factual responses to their letters. But, he’s found he enjoys sending small items he purchases or finds. The occasional accessory or tool from a market, or a particular stone or shell he thinks stands out. For the kids and his old teacher it seems to be more than enough for them.

In his letters, Tanjirou has a habit of rambling about his childhood memories of Nezuko. He’s very concerned about the fact she won’t wake up, despite the fact Urokodaki said it might be helping her. But Tanjirou continues, noting that the way she sleeps now reminds him of how Nezuko would cradle their youngest siblings to sleep during the winter nights. The pins Giyuu gifted them were used to pin her hair back in a way similar to how she did her hair for chores. Dinner reminded him of the vegetables Nezuko liked to pick.

Tanjirou is always recalling how kind and generous and loving his sister was.

Giyuu can’t help but wonder if there’s anyone telling anecdotes about Muichirou, too. If he was someone’s brother once.

It makes him feel very guilty that the new pillar was a twelve and a half year old child.

The meeting is long finished by the time Giyuu starts to shake these thoughts out of his head. It’s not like he can do anything by dwelling on it.

The other pillars are still hanging about, lingering on the premises as they all chat with one another. Only their newest addition has vacated the area.

“Alright, where are we headed?” Uzui slings an arm over Rengoku and leans in close towards the hashira around him.

“Ramen? The one in the village?” Shinazugawa suggests.

“Ooh! Yes, please!” Mitsuri voices her strong approval of ramen. “I could go for twelve bowls right now!”

“I’m fine with anything Mitsuri wants.” Iguro says.

“Yeah, we figured.” Uzui says, and then proceeds to laugh when the serpent pillar shoots him a glare. “Ramen is good.”

“Fine by me,” Shinobu says.

At the same time, a particular breeze causes Giyuu to sneeze.

All heads stop to stare at him.

Oh. Giyuu thinks. Am I supposed to say something? They’re discussing plans but I’m not invited. Damn. By now, I’m usually halfway back to my estate so I don’t have to deal with this…

“Ah! Tomioka!” Rengoku is the first to break the tension. “You’re still here! Are you tagging along with us to the ramen shop?”

Joint groans are heard from Shinazugawa and Iguro. Giyuu recoils.

“Um, well…”

“Tomioka,” Shinobu sing-songs. “You’re unlikely to catch a fever if you socialize a bit more, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Huh?”

“I’ll take that as a yes!” Rengoku says.

“Okay?”

Giyuu finds himself getting ramen with his fellow hashira.

He’s reluctant to admit that it’s not as bad as he expected.

Like, it’s bad. Shinazugawa and Iguro are glaring at him without breaking to blink, and Shinobu is doing the thing where she keeps poking and flicking him whenever he turns away from her.

But it’s not horrible. He has Rengoku, who’s quick to physically restrain Shinazugawa every time the wind pillar tries endlessly attacking him. The flame hashira is very bright and seems to have no trouble including Giyuu. Mitsuri seems to naturally love everyone and everything around her, and much like her mentor, Giyuu was surprised to find they both don’t dislike him as much as he previously thought.

Himejima is calm like himself, but he has an air of maturity that comes with being the strongest, that settles the others down if he looks in their direction every so often. Uzui has always seemed to be mostly indifferent towards him, but with Giyuu actually showing up to whatever-this-is for once, the man at least has no problem pulling him along and forcing him to listen to his anecdotes.

It’s nice, at least, to talk with others when he rarely gets the chance to.

They head towards a village near the Ubuyashiki estate, which lies in the land between the main headquarters and the flame estate. It’s a relatively short walk, at least it is for their group of breath users. They make it into the shop in just over half an hour, and the group finds themselves shoved in a corner booth altogether.

They’re uncomfortably close but not crowded against one another, so Giyuu really isn’t sure if the elbow Shinobu has poking into his rib is intentional or unintentional.

“Sooo,” Uzui draws his words out until everyone’s side conversations pause to listen to him. “What’re your thoughts on the new mist pillar?”

“I pray for the child’s sake no harm comes to him,” Himejima says. “He’s very young.”

“Young indeed!” Rengoku nods. “I find it mildly alarming to have a pillar so young!”

“Hmm. Kanao is a few years older than the boy and already quite skilled at concentrated breathing, but I continue to refuse to let her take the final selection until she’s still a bit older.” Shinobu snaps her chopsticks with a loud snap. “I find it alarming that whoever his trainer was let him take the selection so young. Most slayers take the selection at fifteen or sixteen. Fourteen, if you have relatives already in the corps and started training younger than normal.”

“To be honest, Muichirou-kun joining the ranks so young scares me. I mean, I have siblings around his age, y’know.” Mitsuri worries.

“Yeah. I mean, you all know I was trained as a shinobi before becoming a slayer, so I wasn’t flamboyantly slicing demon necks until sixteen.”

“It’s odd. I’m very curious about the boy.” Iguro says.

Himejima shakes his head with a downwards gaze.

“Yes! And I don’t think he comes from a demon slayer family… I can’t recall ever meeting anyone who looks similar to the boy.” Rengoku says.

“Me neither. I took the selection at fourteen and it took me about two years to reach a pillar.” Shinazugawa adds, “Two months is a ridiculous amount of time.”

“Fifty demons in two months…” Giyuu can’t help but wonder aloud.

Shinazugawa rolls his eyes at the water pillar. “Tch. And what about you?”

“Me? What about me?”

“Oh yeah!” Mitsuri says. “Oyakata-sama said you became a pillar at fifteen, right?”

“I remember you becoming a pillar a few months after me.” Uzui speaks, then pauses to adopt a look of mild disgust. “You used to look even more annoying.”

“Annoying?” Giyuu questions.

Himejima nods. “It’s been some time since then.”

“What age did you take the selection?” Mitsuri asks.

Giyuu recoils from the question— it’s a daily occurrence, for him, to try and not think about the way his final selection ended. It makes his haori suddenly feel quite itchy and uncomfortable, and he suddenly wants to be anywhere but there.

But, the others are genuinely involving him in their conversation for once. If he says nothing, any progress he might’ve made today would be lost, and he fears they’ll all go back to hating him.

“Um.” Giyuu hesitates then swallows his pride. “I took it when I was thirteen…”

“Interesting!” Rengoku cocks his head. “You must’ve trained for quite some time!”

“I guess?” Giyuu says. Ukorodaki took him in when he was nine, and began training him almost right away.

Shinobu flicks his shoulder. “Anyway, it certainly is odd to have him join us. After all, it’s not like every slayer who kills fifty demons automatically becomes a hashira. Usually, some thought is put into choosing someone the other slayers can look up to. I find it odd that a young child was chosen, in this case.”

“Wait,” Mitsuri looks up, confused. “I thought killing fifty demons was one of the requirement to become a hashira. I didn’t know there was more to it?”

“Fifty demons is one of the requirement,” Himejima says. “But if every slayer who fulfilled that requirement became a hashira, any slayer who spends more than four or five years in the corps would be a pillar. There are many veteran slayers who slaughter more than a hundred demons without becoming a pillar.”

“I don’t get it…” Mitsuri trails off.

Giyuu also doesn’t really get it. He never studied much demon slaying history besides slicing the neck of whichever demon stood in front of him.

Shinazugawa scoffs. “You already know there’s always roughly nine hashira, max at a time. If every slayer who met the quota was promoted, there’d be some generation of pillars with over a dozen hashira at a time.”

“Indeed, nine pillars is the goal.” Shinobu says. “But it’s hard to keep that number stable for long. Sometimes, Oyakata-sama promotes weak slayers who barely met the quota in order to fill the top rank. Other times, veteran slayers with durability are overlooked for members with flashier techniques. It’s hard to say the ideal way to become a hashira.”

“Like whats-his-name.” Uzui says. “Breath of soil pillar? From not that long ago.”

“Hm?” Shinobu questions.

“I remember him.” Shinazugawa says. “Real dick. Could barely slice a demon meant for mizunoto. Yet, he got invited to one hashira meeting and he wouldn’t ever shut the fuck up about how strong he was. He got caught fooling around with a couple of the younger slayers, too.”

“Good riddance,” Uzui shrugs. “I don’t know why that guy was ever a hashira. Barely lasted a month.”

Giyuu can’t really recall meeting such a person. He has vague recollections of a few of the other barely-there pillars that have come and gone since he’s been a hashira himself. But none of them stuck out to him, especially since he thought (and still thinks, to some extent) that he was meant to be a cheap replacement pillar for a few months at most. Only the most recent generation of pillars he’s come to expect to see during the past year of meetings has been remarkable in any way.

“Perhaps it’s best not to speak ill of the dead.” Himejima suggests.

“Yes! But I understand what I understand what you mean, I think.”

Shinobu nods. “Not only that, but there are also usual breath styles meant to occupy every generation of pillars.”

“But if you're flamboyant enough like some of us here, you can become a pillar without having one of the original or popularized breath styles.” Uzui says loudly. “Like me. Usually there’s a breath of thunder pillar in every generation. But there’s been a decline of thunder breath users in the past twenty years or so, so Oyakata-sama promoted me as a reliable option since my breath style derives off the movements of thunder, but make it better.”

“That makes sense.” Mitsuri nods along. “But does that mean you all think Muichirou-kun might be one of these come-and-go pillars…?”

There’s the core of the discussion. Would Muichirou, twelve years old and fresh to the lifestyle of slaying demons, last long enough for him to be widely remembered?

“I think so!” Rengoku says determinedly. “Oyakata-sama wouldn’t promote a child if he didn’t prove himself to be exceptionally strong. Look at Kochou and Tomioka! Oyakata-sama said they became pillars younger than the rest of us, and they’re both incredibly strong.”

...What? Giyuu blanks. Me? Did Rengoku hit his head?

He does not understand the flame pillar’s statement one bit. He is really below average when it comes to the hashira standard. He comes close to dying far too often than normal, and lacks the natural charisma they all seem to possess except for him.

For god’s sake, he was a hashira who spared a demon‘s life. And staked his own life on the matter, too.

Yes. Rengoku may have a screw loose to think Giyuu was strong.

“You flatter me, Rengoku-san.” Shinobu says. “But you all know I only became hashira because I was my sister’s tsuguko at the time of her passing. I believe she was the strong one, when she became a pillar on her own at fifteen.”

Respectable silence surrounds the table for a few moments at the mention of Kanae, and Shinazugawa takes a sip of his drink.

“Man, all this hashira talk…” Uzui leans back. “It makes me think of the future.”

“What do you mean?” Iguro squints at the man.

“Y’know.” Uzui waves a lazy hand.

“No. I don’t.” Iguro says.

“Like taking up students?” Himejima replies.

“Yeah, yeah. Crap like that. I mean, I’m already engaged to three beauties and, to be honest with you, hate the look of children. But the rest of you might have something to gain by thinking of marriage, families. Even tsuguko that you take guardianship of…”

“Oh!” Mitsuri agrees. “Well. I hope my future brings me someone strong to marry one day! That’s all I wish for, really!”

Iguro tries to lean in close to listen to the girl before turning his face away as it reddens.

“Right now, I have my younger brother,” Rengoku says. “I’ve been training Senjuro for some time now, in our family’s breath style. I’m very content with my family for the moment.”

“Right, right, I believe in Senjuro-kun!” Mitsuri says.

“Similarly, I’m already busy enough looking over all the girls at the Butterfly Estate. I plan for Kanao to take the selection next spring, if everything goes well.”

“I frequently train newcomers.” Himejima adds. “My newest student is quite a handful for the moment.”

“Thinking of making him your tsuguko?” Uzui asks.

Himejima ponders the question over, perhaps tilting his body towards Shinazugawa a bit, before relaxing. “No, I don’t think the boy would like to become a tsuguko for me. He’s rather prickly.”

“Gotcha. And you three?” Uzui looks towards the trio of nineteen-year-olds with a smirk. “You all still going life solo? I mean, I’m sure Iguro would like a lov–”

Iguro slaps his hand over Uzui’s mouth. “Stop talking. Now.”

Shinazugawa looks over at his friend trying to muzzle the sound pillar before continuing the conversation. “I train a few breaths of wind users occasionally. No one particularly interesting. I would rather spend my time slaying demons than prancing about like you.”

“Lame.” Uzui says, once he gets Iguro’s hand off him. He waits a moment, in the silence of the conversation, before looking towards Giyuu with a look.

“Uh…?”

“Ara, ara,” Shinobu says. “I think Uzui is asking if you have any friends, Tomioka. I’m sure you can just reply with a simple no and be done with the question.”

Giyuu looks at Shinobu with a wide face at her statement, and Uzui, as well as some others, let out a full belly laugh.

“I have friends.” He says, indignantly.

“Oh? You do?” Shinobu smiles. “And who are they?”

Fuck.

“I have a… student.” Giyuu blurts out.

“Really?” Shinobu says. She seems to be genuinely surprised now, rather than just mirroring the emotion to tease him.

“Congratulations!” Rengoku says. “Are they going to be your tsuguko?”

Giyuu doesn’t know whether the correct answer to that question is: A) I don’t know, B) Maybe, or C) Not yet. Oyakata-sama may have given him the correct answer some time ago but he doesn’t know if he can bring himself to that point yet. His uncertainty delays his reply so much, he opts to stay silent altogether.

“Er. I can’t tell whether you’re lying about having a student or not.” Uzui looks at him blankly. “Whatever. Good for you, I guess.”

The conversation continues its flow about the table. Everyone takes turns discussing things here and there between dining on their meal, or in the case of some pillars, meals.

“Who knew you had it in you,” Shinobu leans close to him once the others start talking about something else. “Dinner with friends and training a student. My, my. You’re halfway to being a functioning person, Tomioka.”

The group only stays in the restaurant for another hour or so before their stay there starts to border on unwelcome. By the time Giyuu pries a flame pillar who insists they hang out more often and a love pillar who claims she plans on writing to him now that he’s open to friends— by the time he escapes the restaurant, the sun is already set, and he has a few hours walk back to his estate.

“Oh! It’s late! Are you sure you don’t wish to stay the night at my estate?” Rengoku asks him once again.

Giyuu has nothing against the flame pillar. In fact, after tonight, Rengoku may be one of his favorite hashira. But that doesn’t really change the fact that his social battery is well overspent, and he wants to do nothing more than to lay down in his futon and try not to overthink all the conversations from today. He may be exhausted, but at least the walk home will give him time to clear his head.

“Yes.” Giyuu says. “I’m more than capable of making it to my estate safely.”

He feels worn out and tired in a way he usually doesn’t as he deals out simple farewells to his other hashira before departing.

The walk back to his estate is only mildly uncomfortable. Iguro and Shinazugawa depart roughly at the same time as he does, and with the two living in the same direction as him, he has to intentionally slow his steps down so he doesn’t walk into them. While the serpent and wind pillars are good friends with one another and don’t mind each other’s company on the way back to their estates, Giyuu knows that anything he says or does pisses them both off in equal measures. He stays a good forty or fifty feet behind them so as to avoid bothering them.

It doesn’t work all that well considering every so often one of them turns around with the sole purpose of glaring at him, of course. But at least he has a safety distance to run if need be.

It’s late, when he gets home. Very nearly morning by the time he lays down and shuts his eyes.

The other pillars… they’re all so very free, aren’t they?

He may have been biased in his assumptions against some of them. But all of them, no matter how they feel or think about Giyuu or how he feels or thinks about them— they move about life with a certainty he doesn’t understand. How are they so confident in conversation? So decisive in making decisions? He doesn’t understand their ideals, from the flamboyant to the blaze, from the fluttering to the slithering, but…

He slowly finds himself open to the idea of accepting their ideals anyway.

They’re all so incredibly different from him. He’ll never be a pillar the same; they all stand strongly and proudly amongst other demon slayers. But he thinks he can, at least, choose not to distance himself. He may not be worthy to stand amongst them but maybe it wasn’t really his choice to make.

He still worries over the newest pillar, though. The mist hashira is so young… It makes him feel regretful, in some ways. But he doubts if there’s anything he could do about it.

Uzui mentioned the future. Hashira have an average career of a year or two as a pillar. Some are killed and some are forced to retire early from injuries. Skilled hashira manage a decade. If they’re incredibly lucky, they’ll retire from old age.

Giyuu doesn’t know which of those paths are meant for him.

But when he thinks of how he wants to live, now, in the present, he finds he doesn’t mind being a little less lonely.

His old crow arrives at his window carrying a letter from Tanjirou.

Chapter Text

When Giyuu found Tanjirou and Nezuko, it was in the cold of winter, with frost covering the trees. Eight seasons have passed since that day, and it’s time for Tanjirou to take his final selection with spring’s blossoms.

The letters they exchanged piled up once Tanjirou had taken permission to write to him frequently. His first series of gifts were a few weeks after the New Year, a little over a month since he found them. Since then, Giyuu received a minimum of one letter a week. He’s not sure if there’s more that his crow had simply lost along the way. But the letters he does receive are frequent and lengthy.

Greetings, Tomioka-san. Tanjirou wrote. Thank you so much for the gifts you’ve sent! The scarf you’ve sent me helps with the chills from the mountain top. I had brought a scarf with me while traveling, but it was rather thin and wearing out. Your gift was incredibly thoughtful!

I’m not sure if you had heard, but Nezuko had fallen into a slumber shortly after we arrived at Urokodaki-sensei. He says that, since she does not consume human flesh, sleep is how Nezuko conserves energy. Like bears hibernating through the winter. But, with the hair pins you sent, I’ve done Nezuko’s hair back to prevent it getting tangled while she lays. What a practical gift!

I know Urokodaki writes to you, as well, so I’m not sure if he’s told you himself– but he seems to appreciate the fox figure you’ve sent him. He’s placed it next to the fireplace, and stares at it frequently.

You’re a very kind person. Thank you again!

I’ll make sure to write to you frequently now!
Tanjirou.

Giyuu had responded with: No worries. I’m glad to know you enjoyed the objects.

Tanjirou didn’t relent. His next letter had found him a week later.

Greetings again, Tomioka-san!

Urokodaki-sensei has given me a standard training routine. He has me run up and down the mountain before noon, break for lunch, and then practice water breathing forms until the sun sets. It’s incredibly tiring, but I feel my body building up strength as the days go by!

Today was different. After lunch, he told me he needed me to go to the nearest village for him and pick up some items. It was a very odd list, ranging from our usual dinner ingredients to a specific type of wood he requested of the craftsman in the village.

But the errand was so much fun to run! I loved visiting the village near Sagiri Mountain. It was incredibly lively. I wonder if you’ve ever been?

I also wanted to inquire about any interesting demons you’ve slayer recently. I’m sure you have many stories to tell!

I look forward to your response, Tomioka-san!

At the bottom of the page, there was a small doodle that looked a little like the water pillar and a tiny Nezuko, for whatever reason. But he was rather unsure if that’s what it was supposed to represent due to the quality of it.

Giyuu tried writing a full response to that letter in particular. The boy must have caught on to Giyuu’s habit of not responding to letters. The boy seemed to have asked him specific questions towards the end in hopes of getting a lengthier reply. It was slightly annoying, to be honest– nonetheless, he tried to write back a proper letter to the boy. Every response he drafted came off as awkward and stilted. He went through nearly a dozen failed letters before giving up and tossing them all aside.

His reply that week had been a simple shell he picked up while visiting the village near his estate again.

Tanjirou wrote back that the shell was, indeed, interesting looking. He questioned where Giyuu had found the shell, and then rambled on about how he never quite been to the oceanside before, but he used to spend summers swimming in a lake near his home, and now he spends his time navigating the icy river on Sagiri mountain.

Giyuu sent back a postcard from his next mission.

Tanjirou wrote him another letter.

A back and forth was quickly established between the two of them. While he exchanged letters with Urokodaki on the occasion (that is if you could even call it an exchange when he hardly gives anything back.) But with his teacher, there’s a stilted tension between them that has only grown through the years of broken communication. Tanjirou, on the other hand, has a restless energy to him that lets the boy rebound from Giyuu’s metaphorical door in his face.

Nearly two full years of letters. He doesn’t them once.

Urokodaki told me he has nothing left to teach me. He’s assigned me a boulder in the woods, and told me to slice the stone if I want to take the selection. I don’t get how I’m supposed to do that. Tanjirou writes. Anyway, it’s nearly the New Year. You should come visit us!

Giyuu replies to that with a flyer from a play he had interrupted by slaying the lead’s neck, a few decorative ribbons he acquired, and a small note: That is odd. I don’t recall having to slice a boulder when I trained under him, but I’m sure there’s something to it. I will not visit for the New Year. I’ll make sure to send gifts for the holiday.

He refuses to visit the boy.

The holiday comes and goes— Tanjirou tells him of a family dance he used to watch his father perform from sunset to sunrise, and how he hopes for Nezuko to wake soon. Giyuu writes back that by the next New Year, the boy will be a formidable demon slayer.

The pattern on your haori, Tanjirou writes in the next letter. It’s incredibly unique. I guess I’ve never seen anyone else with the same pattern...

It was given to me by someone. Giyuu replies. He doesn’t give out any more details. But he sends along some more shells with that letter, and some sea glass that looked particularly nice.

Time passed. Now, Tanjirou leaves for his final selection tomorrow.

It makes Giyuu wants to slap himself upside the head for his own stupidity.

By all means, he knows he wasn’t supposed to get this attached. His plan was to drop the boy off to his teacher and never contact him again. He should’ve been out of sight, out of mind. He was out of sight– yet, the inevitable happened anyway.

He started caring again.

It's the middle of the night and he can’t sleep because he’s sick with worry. All he can imagine is Tanjirou and his fox mask, ascending the mountain with an optimism only the young have, just to face a demon and-

He wasn’t supposed to get attached just to lose someone again.

There’s a list of things that could go wrong. He knows, for one, that the demon that killed Sabito is still lingering about the mountain. He knows that aside from that specific demon, there are dozens more ready to kill at any moment.

For the past few weeks, it’s been on his mind. He tried to play it cool, tried to keep his surface a calm demeanor, but he feels waves of anxiety crashing anytime his mind drifts off the slightest. He should’ve been quicker to leave them. He should’ve drowned the letters. Should’ve ignored the pillars, for good measure, too.

In the last letter he received from Urokodaki of the boy’s training, his teacher wrote to him: Don’t worry. Tanjirou is strong.

It was meant to reassure him, he’s sure, but… Sabito was strong once, too.

Tanjirou has such a strong sense of justice, like Sabito. He’s kind like him. Loud like him.

Giyuu can only imagine how this ends.

The tea he had been attempting to pour into a cup splatters as his mind stutters on that thought, and the backsplash hits the skin of his hand, burning it slightly. He swears softly and sets the pot down and moves to run his hands over cold water.

He can’t help but think of the worst case scenario repeatedly.

If Tanjirou were to- …

You can’t always predict misfortune.

God. He feels sick with worry, thinking of the boy not returning from his final selection. And of the girl stuck in a slumber waiting for him to return.

In one of the most spontaneous decisions he’s ever made on his own, in the middle of a restless night, he donned his uniform and left his estate to travel to Sagiri Mountain.

Damn himself for getting involved with the Kamado siblings.

Giyuu pauses his footsteps, and questions once again whether he should even be doing this.

It’s just…if something happens, he feels like he would need to see it with his own two eyes. To be there. He can deal with Urokodaki’s disappointment after all these years, Nezuko’s hatred for starting this mess, if the worst does in fact happen.

He wasn’t able to handle confrontation very well when Sabito died, but he’s no longer a child anymore.

Sagiri Mountain, it is. He continues walking.

The woods are cold, this time of day. The sun hasn’t quite risen yet, but the sky is in the beginning of early morning. Winter’s last frosts linger about the breeze, and he makes his travel towards the home he once had. It’s cold.

He wonders how the little hut has changed since he’s last been there. The structure was always on the small side, but it was cozy. He wonders if the fireplace is still working day in and day out. If the water well out back was finally repaired.

It’s a bit unnerving to think about the cabin changing too much. It’s unlikely— Urokodaki always had a minimalist lifestyle, much like Giyuu himself. But six years have passed, and he doesn’t know what has changed and what hasn’t.

Every other step, he has to question whether he wants to return to the mountain. Tanjirou won’t even be there, Giyuu reminds himself. But he will, hopefully, be there by the end of the week if he survives the selection. And if he isn’t—

Giyuu promises to himself to look after the demon he spared if the worst happens. It would be dishonorable for him to not see this to finish.

His head feels heavy with the amount of thoughts racing about. He’s tired, but he continues traveling towards the retired pillar’s home.

He tries not to think about what will happen once he arrives.

He’s frightened, he admits to himself, in the solace of travel. Frightened to see his teacher after all this time.

A brief intermission—,

Before he knew a world of bloodshed, all that he knew was the humble home he and his sister had.

Tsutako was his world, in many aspects.

His sister was nearly a full decade older than him, and in his memories he remembers a beautiful girl with a kind heart. She was the only family he really ever knew; he supposes he and his sister were orphans, for the lack of parents in their home. He can’t ever recall having a mother or father around. But Tsutako was more than enough for him. She cared for him with everything she had to give. He finds it difficult to remember those days with clarity, due to a decade of time and a self-restraint to focus on the necessary.

But he can never quite forget the afternoons spent fishing in the nearby stream. Days full of picking fresh plums, and summer nights of dragging their futons out under the stars. Warm meals with careful hands guiding him as he carefully cut the vegetables, and the taste of delicious food on his tongue.

Tsutako was such a lovely sister. She had so much love to give back to the world.

It was the night before her wedding day when she was slaughtered.

Memories of the happier days of his childhood give way to the sickening sense of recollection he has of the horrific scene that went down that night. Shoved into a wardrobe and his tears hushed, told to hide and not to leave until she came back to get him– and then, a blood-curdling scream and a repulsive splatter of blood that seeped between the cracks of the furniture he hid in. The only thing left to remember the night was his sister’s haori he was stuck holding as he kept himself quiet for hours in that wardrobe.

He remembers at some point through the horror, peeking through the cracks, terrified of what may be happening, but needing to know nonetheless.

Blood-red eyes that seem to glow in the dark of night. Horns growing like a tumor from the skin of its scalp. Teeth protrude as innards hang from the mouth like slobber. Something entirely monstrous.

It was the first time he had ever seen a demon.

Hours passed, and the rise of the sun brought the women of the village to their home to help with preparing for the wedding. They found the bride’s bloody remains splattered across the walls, and her kid brother hiding in the wardrobe.

Demons. He told them when they asked him what happened. A demon came and ate her.

No one believed him. They thought he was insane. He must have been too young to comprehend what had happened, they said amongst one another. He must have been so traumatized that he made something up to himself to compensate.

They tracked down extended relatives of his who were coming to take him back to their home some miles away. He would be forced to leave Tsutako’s spirit behind in this village and move in with his new caretakers. But it was alright, they told him, placating. His relatives were also doctors of the mind. Everything will be alright. He would be fixed, and forget all about silly demons. He would be happy, eventually.

He waited until the crowd became heavy to rip his relatives’ hands off him and run into the mountains.

Truthfully, he didn’t really intend on running away from them. His relatives weren’t cruel. He didn’t like how they didn’t believe him, told him he was lying to himself about what happened that night, but in hindsight, he doesn’t blame them as much as he used to. His true intention, rather than running away, was to find the way back to his home.

He just wanted to say bye to Tsutako one more time.

It’s very easy for children to get lost in the woods at night.

The trees in this direction looked the same as the trees in that direction. He spent a week trying to get back to his village, to any village, but the forest kept getting wilder. Then, he accepted that he had dug his own grave by running away.

Urokodaki found him seven months later, half unconscious, in the first snowstorm of the season.

His lips were blue and his eyes heavy with frozen tears weighing his eyelashes down. Bones peaked out through his clothes. The man wasted no time in taking him back to his hut, placing him by the fire with layers of fabric to warm him up. Checked his temperature methodically every hour, and fed him soup by hand until he was strong enough to do it himself.

Giyuu was so emotional back then. Full of tears and cries and screams. He spent his first few days by the fireplace doing nothing but weeping his sorrows away.

The man saw his misery and offered him an outlet: a salvation in the form of a blade and water to fill up what was left empty inside him.

Giyuu looks up to make eye contact with Urokodaki for the first time in six years.

Giyuu thinks it may have been the man’s sixth sense that led him to open the front door at the same moment he found himself questioning whether he should knock on wood or not. His hand is poised up, a doubtful fist hovering in the air, when the door swings open with a wide arch. His teacher drops the empty bucket he was taking outside when he sees him, a startled expression clear despite the mask.

The man in front of him looks more tired than he remembers his teacher ever looking. He looks older.

Giyuu tries to think of the right combination of words to say to his teacher. It’s been so long since he’s seen him face to face. Something along the lines of I’m sorry and Please forgive me would probably be best.

But his thoughts all go out the window once Urokodaki takes a step towards him, and says the words he had been fearing all along.

“Did I fail in raising you?”

Giyuu falters, and feels his chest drop suddenly. “I- What?”

“Did I fail in raising you?” The man continues. “Did I not spend enough time on you? Were you ever excluded? Not given enough attention? Did I ever hurt you, Giyuu?”

“No,” Giyuu answers quickly. “Of course not. You would never do any of those things.”

“You know,” Urokodaki says, and he takes a breath to sigh, a sound so very wearier than he expects. “I’ve spent the last six years trying to figure out why you never visited me. You never returned after the selection, and you barely responded to my letters throughout all these years… I thought I had done something to fail you.”

“No. You didn’t do any of those. You,” raised me when Tsutako was no longer able to, was a parent I never had, “always cared for me well.”

“Then why did you never come visit me?” Urokodaki asks. His voice is rough around the edges, and his stoic teacher shows more emotion than he expects.

“Why did you never come home?!”

… Why didn’t he ever come home?

Why didn’t he come back after the final selection; show off his brand-new uniform and nichirin sword. Stop by between missions occasionally to catch his mentor up on the newest excitement. Spend holidays resting at home by a familiar fireplace. Come back and train the student of his own, when the time finally came.

The answer is simple.

“I thought you’d be angry,” Giyuu says, after a breath. His voice betrays his demeanor as it splinters off. A tension he’s been carrying for years loosens inside him. “... I thought you’d hate me for letting Sabito die.”

“Giyuu. I could never hate you. I could never hate any of my children.” Urokodaki opens his arms and pulls Giyuu in for an embrace, like he was still some nine-year-old lost in the world. His arms squeeze him tightly. “I always considered you as much a son to me as he was, you know.”

“I know,” Giyuu says. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I’m sorry,” He repeats nonetheless. “I miss him so much.”

“I do too.” Urokodaki rubs his shoulder. “It’s alright, you know. Everything will be alright.”

The way Urokodaki gently caresses the hair out of Nezuko’s face reminds him of a father and daughter.

He always had a soft spot for kids, Giyuu thinks.

“You came for when Tanjirou returns.” Urokodaki states.

He nods silently.

“The selection finishes tomorrow night. There’ll be about three to four days of travel to come back, afterwards. More, if he’s exhausted.” His teacher tells him. He knows all of that, experienced it once long ago, but the reminder soothed the anxiety in his chest nonetheless. “Until then, stay. Rest.”

He’s not a child anymore, he reminds himself stubbornly. He doesn’t need to be cared for.

But, he tells himself, he’ll stay this time for the old man’s sake.

(It’s nice to take a break every once in a while.)

The next night, Giyuu and Urokodaki both freeze from where they were seated with their dinner to turn their heads and stare at Nezuko.

Nezuko stares back at them.

Her eyes are hazy, a wave of confusion clouding her judgement. Her movements are painfully slow as she tilts her head back and forward, looking about the cabin a few times, before she stands up. Her legs wobble before turning solid, and her eyes decisively flicks back towards the two humans in the corner of the room.

Giyuu’s heart sinks. Please, he thinks to himself, Don’t let her attack anyone. Don’t make me have to kill her without Tanjirou here to know.

His fears are entirely unnecessary when the girl makes her way over to them and places a hand on top of both of their heads. Her hand is gentle, but there’s a slight tension to her arm connecting to her body.

“…?” Giyuu tilts his head.

Urokodaki huffs. “I was worried for a moment. But it looks like I was successful in my hypnosis.”

“Hypnosis?” Giyuu asks. “I wasn’t aware you were a mind reader.”

“That’s not what hypnosis means, Giyuu. What I did was subliminally condition her to think of all humans as family. It’s different.”

“I see.” He nods. “Telepathy.”

“No.” Urokodaki finishes.

Nezuko hmphes and the old man turns back to her. “Don’t worry, Nezuko. Your brother will be back soon. He’s on his way back to us now.”

The girl stares at him before the words seemingly process, and she sits back, looking calmer now.

Nezuko instinctively woke up on the official final day of the selection.

The distance to the final selection from Urokodaki’s cabin would take Giyuu half a day with concentrated breathing. For what he assumes to be an exhausted slayer who just spent a week fighting to survive— the travel time may fluctuate and could potentially take a week.

With each day that passes, Giyuu grows anxious. Nezuko and Urokodaki do too.

If he were alone, he’d usually spend the time sulking by himself. Unfortunately, Urokodaki works his anxiety out through chores and household labor, and drags Giyuu along like a child to help. Once the sun sets, Nezuko has a habit of finding them and joining their chores without them even asking.

Every wobbly leg or loose screw was fixed. The cabin got dusted from floor to ceiling twice. A new path was laid out to the well, replacing the uneven cobblestone previous. Nearly a month’s worth of fish from the stream was caught and preserved in their free time. Anything and everything left to do was done.

Four days have passed since the official finish of the selection.

He’s in the kitchen, chopping vegetables for the meal Urokodaki is making for dinner, when they see a blur rush out the door.

“Was that Nezuko?” Giyuu asks, looking back and forth between where the girl was, and the front door left open in her haste.

Urokodaki stares at the door in confusion before he startles and puts the kitchen knife down and runs after her.

Giyuu hears someone yelling outside the cabin—

“Nezuko! You woke up! I was so scared you were dead!”

Tanjirou had returned.

Giyuu turns toward the door, ready to run after the two people who just did the same thing. But he pauses mid-step, body frozen in the front doorway.

Should he even be here…? It’s been two years since he’s last visit, and while the boy frequently sends him letters, the fact is he tried to distance himself as much as possible when he dropped them off.

He watches from a far as Urokodaki joins the embrace of the two siblings, all of them half toppled over the floor with the excitement of Tanjirou’s return. They look so happy. Like a family.

Maybe he really shouldn’t have come.

He takes one step back, two, and turns around. He very suddenly wants to run away.

“Ah! Tomioka-san! You’re here too!”

He turns back around as Tanjirou yells his name.

“Tomioka!” Tanjirou says. “I’m so happy you’re here as well!”

… Giyuu supposes his worries were unnecessary.

Hesitatingly, he walks over to the trio, hovering nearby awkwardly. He feels unsure whether he should join their group, or if it would be weird if he did so. Urokodaki makes his mind up for him when he drags him down to join their embrace, and the children immediately make room for him.

They stay like that, for a few moments.

Chapter Text

Giyuu is standing by a lake.

The scenery feels somewhat familiar, like a memory his mind had forgotten but his body still yearns for— instinctual and forever rooted in him, yet distanced by time. He can’t see or focus on much around him besides the lake. A dreamlike haze surrounds his mind and creates a fog around wherever it is that he resides.

It feels like he’s been here before, but everything had been moved two inches to the left from his last visit.

There’s someone beside him, he realizes eventually. The presence feels familiar to Giyuu. Steady in their stride.

He turns his head just a glimpse to catch their face, and he sees peach hair and a scar trailing the side of a face, with a melancholic look as Sabito glances back at Giyuu. “Hey.”

“Hello,” Giyuu replies back.

As he sees his long deceased friend, he can think one thing. That is, he really, really, hates nights like these.

It has been a while since he’s last seen Sabito in his dreams. Being able to hear his voice again is always as relieving as it is worrying (he always wonders how long it will be until he forgets what this sounds like. Until his memory of Sabito fails him.) It scares him, the thought of forgetting someone so vital to him as he is forced to move forward with a life the other boy will never get a chance to have.

He used to dream of his late friend often. He would dream of the good times, like memories of their relentless training together, or visiting the lake at the bottom of the mountain together, or nights they spent staying up late just to talk even if they knew they would regret it the next morning. Nights filled with those types of dreams were never bad.

Giyuu had several good moments together with Sabito during their childhood spent training for the final selection, but just as well, his conscience forced him to have just as many dreams of the bad times that he did of the good. Nightmares, really. He dreamt of demons with blood on their hands, of children ascending a mountain but never quite managing to descend.

He hated nights like those. And more often than not, his memories of good times in childhood slowly blended with nightmares of watching a good soul leave early.

Tonight, Giyuu doesn’t feel a strong pull to this dream going in either direction. It feels oddly realistic in its neutrality.

Sabito is by his side. He looks just as Giyuu remembered him— startlingly young. The realization that Sabito will never have the chance to grow old never fails to punch him in the gut. They were so young, once.

Giyuu feels an almost foreign honesty come to him, when he sees Sabito like this. This dream, as it is so far, feels so much more real than most of his other dreams.

“You know,” Giyuu says. “If there’s one thing I could’ve ever told you it would’ve been an apology for holding you back. You had such a great destiny ahead.”

This version of Sabito scoffs in a way Giyuu can recall from childhood. “Of course you’d say that. You know, it really bugs me to know you’ve never forgiven yourself for that day even after all these years.”

“How could I?” Giyuu emphasizes. His lip catches his teeth in emotion. “You were so strong and righteous, and you were destined for great things! If it wasn’t for me—“

“If it wasn’t for you, yeah?” Sabito mocks him, a pitch of anger underlying his voice. “Don’t act like you wouldn’t have done the same for me!”

“That’s different.”

“How is it different?!”

“You—“ Giyuu deflates. “You’re more deserving of this life than me, I shouldn’t have stolen it from you.”

“You know, Giyuu.” And for a moment, Sabito sounds much older than Giyuu recalls him ever being. “You speak of how I was destined for great things— I don’t know how you don’t see your own destiny lying in front of you. I may have been able to do great things, but you already are.”

Giyuu’s confusion, or disbelief, must’ve shown on his face. Sabito lets out a rough laugh.

“Tanjirou and Nezuko. I think you’ve really begun to change things with them.”

“How do you know about them?” Giyuu asks. He can’t help it. Most of his dreams of Sabito consists of memories and insecurities of his. He’s hardly ever dreamt of Sabito giving thought on his current predicaments, and the new territory he finds his mind sprung on him makes his stomach feel queasy.

“Look after them, yeah?” Sabito says, a melancholic smile approaching his lips. “They’re good kids.”

He nods. Sabito never had the chance to meet Tanjirou and his sister, but he supposes this is just a dream still, just an extension of his subconscious, so he doesn’t question the fallacy. He thinks his old friend would’ve liked them, if he ever got the chance to see them.

He wants to say something back, even if this isn’t real, but Giyuu doesn’t know how to reply in a way that isn’t please don’t go or please just say without sounding pathetic. He opts not to reply, because, after all, this is a dream, and all dreams end eventually.

It was enough to hear his voice again, even if it was just his subconscious fabricating it.

Giyuu is woken up by a pair of eyes staring back at him.

“Tomioka,” Tanjirou stands above him. “You have a letter!”

“Um.” He rubs his hands over eyes for a few moments, pushing the sleep off his face. A distant pain lingers in his chest from the thought of Sabito.

Waiting on the hut’s windowsill is indeed his accompanying crow. The old thing teeters back and forward on the ledge as it flips the parchment around in its beak. He rises slowly from the futon, before making his way to the windowsill. With gentle hands, he pries the letter from his crow, and pats it absentmindedly.

The letter is from Oyakata-sama, of course, asking if he’d perhaps like the tsuguko registration forms.

He wonders how the man was always one step ahead of his thoughts.

“Um, Tomioka-san, you suddenly have a really interesting face…”

“Sorry.” Giyuu says. He clears his mind and takes a deep breath. “Besides that, I wanted to ask you something.”

“Okay.” Tanjirou replies.

“Do you…” Giyuu pauses once more to reconsider, before pushing forward. “Know what a tsuguko is, by any chance?”

He really is lucky Urokodaki seems to be out of the house at the moment, and that Nezuko has yet to rise. He’s more than embarrassed as it is, without anyone else witnessing him flounder about this conversation.

“No, I don’t. I’m sorry.”

“No,” Giyuu says. “It’s fine. I expected that. It’s… a term, within the demon slayer corps. Do you know what the hashira are?”

“Not really.” Tanjirou grimaces some more.

“In the demon slayers, there’s a ranking system. Now that you’ve passed the final selection, you’ll be the lowest rank: Mizunoto. At the top of the ranks are hashira who are the pillars of the corporation. Pillars are supposed to be the strongest slayers who are capable of supporting the others.”

Tomioka pauses for a moment, to let the boy digest all the information thrown at him so far. Tanjirou nods along. “So when Urokodaki mentioned he was a retired pillar before, that means he was at the top of the ranks before retiring? And you’re currently a hashira now too, right? That explains why you’re both so strong!”

“I’m not that strong.” The denial of his strength is instinctual, from long-old arguments when he would deny his passing of the final selection.

“That’s not true!” Tanjirou denies right back.

Giyuu doesn’t have a response to that. He wasn’t really looking to argue right now, seeing as he was poorly attempting to make Tanjirou his tsuguko. “Nonetheless—“

Tanjirou grabs Giyuu's shoulders in a firm grip. “Tomioka-san, you’re an incredibly strong person. If you weren’t, you wouldn’t be where you are now!

“I’ve just been lucky enough to have been helped by others.” Giyuu responds, before shaking his head to continue the conversation. “But—“

“You’re downplaying yourself.” Tanjirou cuts in, his voice flat like Urokodaki’s during a lesson.

As much as Giyuu would love to argue and confess to his crimes of being lackluster, this conversation is already going in circles. He clears his throat to change the topic once more. “Anyway, hashira can have what we call tsuguko. A pillar’s tsuguko is sort of a replacement for them, if anything ever happens to them, tsuguko are meant to fill the position immediately.”

Giyuu is expecting the boy to acknowledge the information he had dealt with the same nodding along he was a few moments prior, but instead Tanjirou dons a frown. “I don’t want to replace you.”

“I didn’t mean it like that. Tsuguko aren’t just replacements for their hashira, they’re also…” Giyuu sighs. “I don’t know how to explain it. Take the current insect pillar, for example. She was once the tsuguko for her older sister, and now she has taken her younger sister as a tsuguko. It’s a line of succession, but there’s more to it than just replacing someone if something goes wrong. There’s a degree of… mentorship, I suppose, that goes into the process.”

If it were a simple quick and easy replacement, he would probably make the selfish choice and keep the boy away from harm, even if he knows deep down he is not worthy of being a hashira. But there was more to it, truly, like he is trying to express. A level of protection.

Tanjirou nods. “So, it’s like how the craftsmen in our village would take on apprentices?”

“Yes, that might be a better way to put it.” Giyuu says.

“If that’s the case… then yes! I agree to be your tsuguko!”

Giyuu finds himself letting out a relieved smile. “Thank you. I’m glad to hear that.”

Their conversation ends not soon after, but it feels like a weight has been lifted off his chest now that he’s finally got around to doing this.

(He quickly sends his crow back with a letter asking for tsuguko approval. He finds it to be one of the easiest letters he’s written in the past years.)

Dinner that night feels calmer than it had the nights previous. With Tanjirou back from his final selection, and Nezuko awake and moving about again, a bit of the weight Giyuu had been carrying on his shoulders feels lighter. And the answer to a question he’d been thinking over had left him feeling oddly optimistic.

Giyuu moves to help Urokodaki put the dinner pot down. They set the table.

“Any idea when your missions will start coming, Tanjirou?” Urokodaki asks once they all get settled in for the meal.

Tanjirou blubbers around the food he had already had in his mouth, before shaking his head. “I’m… not sure.”

“Actually,” Giyuu says, deliberately making himself sound as nonchalant as possible. “Earlier today I had asked Tanjirou to be my tsuguko, so I think his missions will just be accompanying me around.”

Urokodaki looks surprised, if his body language is anything to read. He nearly drops his chopsticks. “You did?”

Giyuu nods. “Yes.”

The mask his teacher wears hides it well, but he can tell the old man is happy. “That’s good to hear.”

“It is!” Tanjirou says. “Me and Nezuko are looking forward to accompanying you!”

“Hmmph!”

Giyuu nods, and the conversation continues along. It feels organic, the way everyone sits together and speaks plainly.

Something about having these important people to him around the dinner table. It makes the red on his haori feel heavier— perhaps not with guilt as it once would’ve, but with the melancholic feeling of perhaps moving on. The feeling sits in his stomach bitterly, but he thinks his sister would’ve wanted this for him. Now is as good as it will ever be to begin to piece himself back together, even if he starts slow.

The meal is warm and builds the foundations for memories of good times.

Afterwards, Urokodaki pulls him aside. “Giyuu, I need to speak to you briefly.”

“Alright.”

He follows his teacher to the side of the hut, where the moon looks down upon them kindly. He wonders if there are demons out tonight.

“You made Tanjirou your tsuguko.” Urokodaki begins.

“I did.” Giyuu replies. “I thought it was the best course of action.”

“I agree with you. But I have something to ask of you.”

“What is it…”

Urokodaki puts his hands together and looks him dead on. “I need you to look over the two of them for me.”

“Huh?” Giyuu blanks— because wasn’t this the entire essence of a hashira and tsuguko?

“Two years ago, you sent me a pair of siblings with a letter asking if I could make the boy into a slayer. I watched the two of them and found myself agreeing with your assessment that the girl was docile, and did exactly as you begged of me. I watched over them for these past two years with my entire heart and soul, Giyuu.” Urokodaki tells him. “But I can’t keep watching over them as closely anymore. And this is where things will be getting much more difficult for those two. I need to know you’ll keep them safe.”

Giyuu can read between the lines here and see what is not being said: I need to know you’ll keep them safe because I’ve already lost too many children.

“Of course. I’ll do everything to keep them safe from harm.”

“That’s good,” Urokodaki sounds relieved. “I’m proud of you, you know.”

They are given two more days to spend with Urokodaki before a crow comes delivering their first mission, and a letter approving Tanjirou’s nomination as the water pillar’s tsuguko.

As they pack their things to go, Tanjirou and Nezuko linger, trying to find the right way to say goodbye. They crowd the old man and thank him for the two years spent overseeing them. Giyuu finds himself getting pulled into a group embrace without realizing it. Nonetheless, their departure is swift, and they leave towards their first mission together at first daybreak.

Chapter Text

“There’s something I should probably warn you of.” Giyuu begins.

After their departure early that morning, conversation only lasted roughly half an hour before the two of them (plus Nezuko, who was in her box) fell into a companionable silence. Giyuu is a person who revels in silence of all sorts as his default, but finding himself in this situation where the quiet was mutually enjoyed and not filled with awkward tension, for once, took a great deal of stress off his shoulders. Still, silence has a tendency to brew heavy thoughts, and he had something lingering on his mind since the tsuguko promotion.

“What is it?” Tanjirou asks him earnestly.

“You recall how I spoke of the hashira a few days ago?”

“Yes,” Tanjirou nods. “They’re the strongest demon slayers in the corps, right?”

“Yes. That’s why I need to warn you, if you ever run into another hashira besides myself, you must flee at once.”

Tanjirou stutters his step in momentary shock. “Eh?”

“The other hashira…” Giyuu trails off, thinking of his words. “They won’t be as kind to someone protecting a demon as myself and Urokodaki. And while any lower ranking slayers we run into won’t ever question you as long as you’re with me, I doubt that the hashira will listen to me. They don’t particularly like me much...”

“Aren’t they your friends?” Tanjirou asks. “Surely if you explained Nezuko to them…”

“They’re not my friends.” Giyuu says plainly. “And they won’t care for an explanation. I’ve received permission from Oyakata-sama for your existence, and while they may listen to him, it could prove difficult at the moment to get them to listen.”

Tanjirou ponders the explanation, his eyebrows upturned just the slightest and he hesitates, then nods, face serious. “I understand. If we ever run into another hashira, I’ll take Nezuko and flee.”

“Good.”

They make it to their destination just before the sun falls. It’s a relatively small fishing village, located a few hours on foot east to where they had stayed with Urokodaki, alongside a streaming river. A lingering fishy-smell coats the village as they enter.

Despite the small size of the village, they manage to find an inn for the night quickly. Giyuu makes quick work of checking out a room for them to recoup in while they form a plan for their mission. He hands their hostess for the night the payment for their room, the drop of money light compared to his hashira salary he hardly ever made use of.

The lady leads them down a narrow hallway to a room at the end of the hall, shows them where the futons lay and goes over a few quick rules with them. Giyuu finds himself zoning out, as is a bad habit of his. Tanjirou seems to be listening intently, however, and nods enthusiastically as she finishes speaking.

“Thank you for your hospitality!”

“No trouble at all! See you boys tomorrow.”

The woman leaves them, so Giyuu checks the windows and doors for sunlight coverage while Tanjirou lets Nezuko out of her box.

“Did you already have a plan for the demon, Giyuu-san?” Tanjirou asks him. After making the boy his tsuguko, formally, formalities have been mostly lost, graduating from Tomioka to Giyuu.

“Well…” Giyuu didn’t typically make plans for when he dealt with demons, if he was being honest. He more often than not just went for the more literal approach of hunting the thing down and slicing its head off, subtleties be damned. This has led to there being more than a few occasions where other hashira, namely Shinobu most often, have caught him floundering in random villages while on a mission.

Tanjirou reads the unsaid answer in his silence. “How about we go over the details again, then?”

For the last month, numerous accounts of people have been finding themselves getting pulled into the riverbank, getting sucked into the mudbank and drowned. While drownings are not rare in everyday life for a fishing village, the steady number of people losing their life, as well as the fact these drownings are only happening once the sun has set and before it has risen, has led to the conclusion of a demon.

“I think we should wait until the sun sets some more, then explore the river bank.” Giyuu says.

“Hm. Alrighty, that makes sense!”

“Hmph!” Nezuko adds.

That settles it.

They give the sky another hour to dim, enjoying a quick evening meal in the meantime. It isn’t until the moon and stars come out, and Nezuko crawls back into her box, that they depart.

The river lies along the edge of the village, the closest homes to the water retired for the night with locked doors. The river is relatively slow at this time, the tide dipping critically low, revealing a thick mudbank alongside the river.

“Careful.” Giyuu says as they approach. “Watch out for the mud.”

Tanjirou nods his affirmation, and the two continue investigating adjacent to the river. Giyuu can sense the demon nearby, watching them, but it has yet to make the first move. They walk the line between firm soil and muddy deposits, carefully maneuvering the landscape as they keep an eye out for the demon to make the first move.

“I smell it nearby.” Tanjirou whispers. “I think it’s—“

And, suddenly, a hand shoots out of the mud beneath them, grabs Giyuu ankle, and drags him towards the river’s waters.

“Giyuu!” Tanjirou shouts.

He doesn’t reply, instead makes the motion of twisting his body upwards and using the momentum to go into first form Water Surface Slash. He slices at the hand holding onto him.

“To your left!” Giyuu shouts. Tanjirou nods, and where the river is bubbling up some mysterious dark, gelatinous, liquid, the boy winds up and uses the ninth form Splashing Water Flow to keep his feet steady as he juts forward to quickly slice where the demon lurks.

Tanjirou manages to slice a thick chunk of the demon’s head off, but just misses the creature’s neck. The two of them catch a single moment of silence as they watch the demon back up to the dangerous depths of the water and regenerate. For the first time since the encounter began, it reveals itself.

The river’s demon is a nasty thing, with skin made of mud and beady eyes like mutated koi fish. It hisses incomprehensibly, and as it does so Giyuu feels the mud beneath their feet sink deeper into the river, pulling them down with it.

But they’re slayers, and they’ve trained for this.

“Third form, flowing dance!” Tanjirou stabs at the terrain of the river to release them, then, Giyuu moves forward with a call of the fourth form, and manages to quickly chop the head of the demon in a swift movement.

The entire fight lasted, maybe, five minutes, with no injuries to count for. Giyuu isn’t all that surprised— he’s a hashira, and if he couldn’t defeat a low level demon with ease he wouldn’t really be able to call himself by that title.

Nonetheless, Tanjirou picks himself up as the fight ends, remnants of mud and an adrenaline filled grin on the boy's face. He gently places Nezuko on the soil and wipes the mud off his face as he turns to Giyuu.

“We did it.”

“We did.” Giyuu replies.

“The village smelled so sad when we entered.” Tanjirou says. “They’re so reliant on their fishing economy, they weren’t able to avoid the river even with all the death going on. Everyone smelled a bit like they were mourning someone. I’m so glad we got to help all those people.”

Giyuu knows that every demon they stop is another human life they’ve saved, but hearing it from Tanjirou, who’s still so full of energy going into the corps is refreshing. It makes him feel more motivated than usual.

“Yes. They can all rest easy now.”

“Yup!” Tanjirou says. He watches his sister crawl out the box, now that the demon is gone, and sit gently on the river’s edge. The boy dips back down into the river to wash the mud off his own face, and Giyuu mirrors the action, rubbing at the soil stuck to him.

“I have a question for you,” Giyuu says as he scrubs part of his haori. “How come you weren’t breathing during the fight?”

Tanjirou pauses, confused. “What do you mean?”

“You know. Breathing.”

“You mean,” Tanjirou takes a moment to loudly inhale and exhale. “Like that?”

“No. Perhaps Urokodaki didn’t have time to show you. Do you know of total concentration breathing?”

“No?” Tanjirou tilts his head.

“Hm.” Giyuu considers this information. “It’s a method of controlling your body that allows you to fight exponentially better. Perhaps, when we have time, I’ll show you.”

“Really?” Tanjirou asks. “Do we have another mission lined up already? How about tomorrow?”
giyuu-
“If another crow doesn’t come by then, sure.”

“Thank you, Giyuu-san!”

Not soon after, they make their return to the inn. Mud is scrubbed off their skin, and they rest for the night.

By morning, a new message has been sent already:

Asakusa, in Tokyo. Rumors of a demon hiding.

“Total concentration breathing?” Tanjirou asks.

“Yes.” Giyuu says.

They’re making their way towards their next mission. They had a full day of travel yesterday, and the majority of today. He’s hoping that they’ll make it before nightfall. If not, tomorrow.

“How do I… do that?”

Giyuu thinks on how Urokodaki taught him, when he was young and in training and his master wanted to leave more time before their final selection. Urokodaki taught him and Sabito by having them stand neck deep in the river and focus on controlling their breathing in spite of the water pressure around them. He thinks Shinobu mentioned once of Kanao’s training through gourds the butterfly mansion had in stock. But he does not have any of the instruments nor a river with him at the moment.

“I might be able to pick up some things that’ll help in the city, but for now focus on your breathing on its own. Take the deepest breath you can, hold it until you can’t, and exhale it all out. Repeat over and over, with no break between breaths.”

Tanjirou nods, and he listens idly as the boy expands his chest with oxygen, and then exhales. His breaths are better than standard, but he can tell from listening that after a few deep breaths, he’s already running out of air. Moving while doing so makes it doubly taxing. But the result will be worth it, in the end. The control total concentration breathing allows a slayer over their body can make all the difference between life and death when you’re on the battlefield. He’s glad to have the opportunity to teach Tanjirou this skill if it means the boy will be more prepared for the oncoming future.

They make it to the city just after nightfall. Not too bad, in Giyuu’s book.

He looks to his side, where Tanjirou and Nezuko, who had left her box once the moon came out, eye the crowds with an anxious eye. He himself is not a big fan of crowded places, but years of missions have him adjusted, and it seems the kids don’t have the type of experience yet.

“What kind of town is this?” Tanjirou whispers. His breath is course from the breathing exercises he had him doing on the way. “It’s night but it’s bright out! And the buildings are so tall, what the… I’m getting dizzy.”

Giyuu feels a bit guilty for not preventing this. The breathlessness from training probably led to an oxygen depletion. He grabs gentle hold of both Tanjirou’s and Nezuko’s haori, his hand relating more to a hover more than a grab, really, but leads them towards the edges of the crowd. An udon stand makes its place alongside the main street where the crowd dies down.

“Sit down.” Giyuu instructs the children. “I’ll get us some food. Catch your breath.”

Tanjirou nods and hangs his head, looking unusually haggard for himself. Nezuko slumps next to him, her nervous energy making her seem more sleepy than usual.

The owner of the stand happily takes his money and gives him two hefty servings of udon. He brings the food back to the bench and hands Tanjirou a bowl.

The food is warm and comforting.

They make it two bites in before Tanjirou startles upright, an expression of anger, fear, anxiety, hatred on his face.

“It’s him.” Tanjirou says. He stands upright suddenly, his abandoned meal crashing onto the ground, his breath coming out in impatient pants. “It’s him, Giyuu. It’s that man, Muzan.”

Chapter Text

If the face carved into the shadows of the dark side of the moon had a name, it would be Muzan Kibutsuji. The originator of all demons.

“It’s him.” Tanjirou says. He stands to his feet suddenly. The action leaves his newly abandoned meal crashing onto the ground. “It’s him, Giyuu. It’s that man, Muzan.”

A second bowl of udon follows the first to the ground as Giyuu processes the words and stands upright himself. “That man is here?!”

The udon cart owner looks over at them from where he stands a mere feet away. His face depicts a clear expression of irritation as he sees what they’ve done to the food they purchased. Of course, neither of them even notices.

“We need to…” Tanjirou trails off, wide eyed. His feet look like they’re on a starting line, ready to go off.

“No.” Giyuu says. Even if he is recognized as a hashira, and even if he is one of the stronger members of an organization that had been around for centuries for the sole purpose to one day destroy the father of demons; even if this was a once in a lifetime opportunity to change history; to face Muzan tonight would be certain death. He could feel it down to his very bones, the threat of death nearby. They need to leave as swiftly as possible. Now. He knows deep into his soul that facing this monster as they are now, on their own, would be the last thing they will ever do.

A pair of feet take off from the starting line, and suddenly Tanjirou is leading himself and Nezuko towards Muzan, ignoring Giyuu completely.

Giyuu swears to himself and every one of his ancestors before him as he takes off after them.

This is bad. Very bad. Why is that monstrous creature here, why now? No one has ever reported seeing Muzan out and about before; the fact it is them who gets stuck in this scenario makes him sick with stress as he chases after Tanjirou. They really need to leave as soon as possible.

They turn left, then right, and then it is a sprint straight through the crowds to find that man.

Giyuu catches up to them after a few seconds, once the endless crowd makes enough room for him to run at a faster speed.

Still, he’s too late.

He finds himself right beside Tanjirou as soon as the boy places an arm on an unassuming man’s shoulder.

Looking at the father of demons before them, Giyuu notes that if he were not trained as a hashira, nothing, nothing, about the man would alert him to anything out of the ordinary.

He looks so mundane, this Muzan Kibutsujui, dressed plainly with an attractive appearance, just another face in the crowd. If he were not a hashira, he would be none the wiser to what lurked below the surface. He was trained to see beyond the surface level of a creature, to see the truth in a person by observing carefully the way a body acts on a more biological level. It is only his keen senses that allow him to look death in the face.

Muzan Kibutsuji is a wolf in sheeps’ clothing. It is terrifying.

Bloodlust enters the air like a poison as the ordinary man turns and faces the two swordsman approaching him. There is the subtle hint of a sadistic grin at the corners of his mouth. Giyuu’s hand shakes ever so slightly from their position on the handle of his sword.

A little girl is perched on the man’s shoulders. “Daddy?”

Muzan Kibutsuji is pretending to be a human, with a wife and daughter and who knows how many other people are involved in his sham. Giyuu feels sick. The use of innocent people as bait for his poor disguise of normalcy.

“Is there something I can do for you? You appear to be quite upset.” Muzan smiles. The little girl is passed to the woman’s arms, as the man moves towards them.

He is quite an actor. Muzan doesn’t break character the slightest, as he prattles on about being mistaken for someone else. Old phrases of devils and their charms begin to make more sense as the conversation continues.

Giyuu is tense like he’s never been before. Being near this man… It's akin to watching a natural disaster happen with no hope of prevention. Muzan has an aura of pure death, terrible and unavoidable. And right now, as they all play this game of pretend, they stand in the eye of the hurricane. He knows they should be doing something, anything, but they are surrounded by hostages on every side, as humans walk by them in the city’s endless crowds. If Muzan so chose to, he could kill every living creature standing in this city in seconds, and Giyuu would be unable to do a single thing.

They can do nothing, except follow the monster’s script. He really is quite the actor. His wife says something, but Giyuu’s focus remains on Muzan.

The man is calculating, dangerously so. His eyes trace the slayers over carefully, investigating their details. A shiver goes down his spine as he feels the eyes look over him.

Muzan looks over Tanjirou, the one who had instigated the interaction, first. The demon has calculating eyes as he regards the strange mark on the boy’s forehead, seeing the color to his hair and eyes, his earrings. He looks at Giyuu, next, who is the stronger of the two, a prized hashira of the demon corps. He eyes the sword Giyuu lets his shaky hands linger on, noting the burgundy half of his haori, staring at the hairstyle he wears.

His breath comes out as close to shaky as a creature who does not need to breathe could get.

Then, almost too quick for the human eye to see, the man reaches out behind his wife’s head and claws the neck of a couple passing by.

It’s instant. What was a human mere seconds ago becomes a demon set loose in a crowd of people. Screams are heard immediately.

Giyuu feels his heart drop in grief for these people he’s just failed. How could he, a pillar of the demon slayers watch idly as this man destroy another life in less than a moment. He was nothing but useless in the situation.

He moves swiftly to restrain the newborn demon onto the ground. People around them scream at him and Tanjirou as they work to inhibit the demon without executing him right there and then.

Tanjirou takes the scarf off his neck and shoves it into the demon’s mouth, acting as a muzzle. It idly reminds Giyuu of the bamboo muzzle he had given Nezuko so long ago. But Giyuu doesn’t fully process the scene, focusing instead on the other person Muzan had touched. A woman to their right, dripping blood and slumping over…

Useless, useless! How can he call himself a pillar after his inactions of tonight?

Giyuu watches as Muzan moves to retreat. Half of him wants to call the man back and drive his sword through the monster’s neck– and the other half of him is painfully aware of his weakness and knows attempting to do so would mean certain death for not only them, but everyone around them as well.

He wants to say something, but his hands are covered innocent blood, and his words fail him.

“Muzan Kibutsuji!” Tanjirou screams. He sounds angrier than Giyuu has ever heard him before. “Wherever you go, you won’t get away from me!”

Torn between admonishing the boy for his foolishness in provoking such a creature, and being shamefully proud that in moments Giyuu remains useless, Tanjirou will never be idle like he is.

“I’ll follow you to the depths of hell, and your neck will feel the edge of my sword!”

The words linger in the air as death’s face disappears into the crowd. Muzan is gone.

Policemen swarm the streets not soon after, and Giyuu has to resist from letting the men pull him and Tanjirou off of the new demon, who is hungry for blood. The woman remains in a slump as the policemen try to aid her.

“Stop!” Tanjirou cries out. “I don’t want this person to kill anyone! Don’t interfere, please!”

“Please.” Giyuu says. His voice may not be as loud as Tanjirou’s, but there is a gruffness to his voice that lingers. “We’re only here to help these people.”

Time almost seems to slow down for a moment.

A sticky scent enters the air— flowers, with the metallic tang of blood following.

A face comes into his view, belonging to a beautiful woman that approaches. There’s a heaviness to her features that clues him in to what she is— a demon. At her side, her arm drips blood from three long scratch wounds penetrating her the skin of her arm. Beside her, is a young boy, who remains silent and sterile in his facial expression.

An array of flowers bloom suddenly into a floral haze. Confused policemen and bystanders alike drift away from the scene, powered by the blood demon art. Blocking the civilians from seeing anything with her masks of roses and tulips, the woman stands before the demon slayers, her silent assistant lingering beside her.

As the demons approach them, Giyuu keeps one hand on the victim’s pulse, and allows the other to find the hilt of his sword. The young demon boy sends him a glare.

The woman stands before the two demon slayers, and looks at them curiously. “You still use the term ‘person’ to refer to a transformed demon. You both are clearly still trying to help this person.” She puts her free hand towards the bloody wound etched into her arm. “Allow me to lend you a hand.”

Giyuu sends her a dangerous warning look, and focuses on his controlled breathing.

Demons are hardly ever intelligent enough to hold conversations. The Kizuki are essentially the only demons that are capable of such a high level of speech. Yet, he doesn’t see any numbers marking her. Still, he can tell she must be incredibly powerful, and he refuses to lower his guard after encountering Muzan.

“Why?” Tanjirou questions. “My scent tells me you’re a demon.”

“I am.” She confirms. Her voice has a softness, yet firm confidence, in it that reminds him of Shinobu. “But I am also a doctor. And, above all else, I am someone who wants more than nothing to annihilate that man, Kibutsuji.”

Something about the conviction of her voice tells Giyuu, at the very least, that this woman is telling the truth.

Hatred as vehement as hers is difficult to lie about.

He wondered, since Nezuko, if other demons exist that defy the expectation. If there were any who loathed their existence or fought back against their urges. This woman is an extremely powerful demon. She could be lying, in order to kill them once they’re trapped but… if she wanted to kill them, she could’ve done it without speaking to them first. If she was one of the Kizuki she probably would have murdered half the city before approaching them. She can’t be trusted in full, but at the very least, she can be an ally.

Tanjirou looks to him for a decision, or a reply.

“Alright.” Giyuu settles on. “We’ll accept your help…?”

“Lady Tamayo.” The woman introduces herself. “I’m very glad you are willing to put aside your prejudices. I believe we can help this couple together.”

Chapter Text

Giyuu wonders how stupid he has to be to follow a demon back into their home.

Incredibly stupid, A voice sounding like the other hashira reply in his head.

Lady Tamayo has the precision of a surgeon in most aspects of her appearance. Her eyes seem to be cutting when she glances over, and she moves her hands in very exact motions, no extra movement to be wasted as she moves or speaks.

There is a sterileness behind the flowers that reminds him of the Butterfly Estate.

The young boy trailing beside her acts as her assistant. Yushiro (whose name was given to them by Tamayo, as Yushiro was very adamant in refusing to introduce himself), is loud and prickly. Not nearly as sterile as Lady Tamayo, but just as careful. His blood demon art is incredibly useful as well, keeping them and the estate hidden in plain sight.

The demon estate is not nearly as… well, demonic, as Giyuu had expected. The home seems clean and modern, and the interior seems well cared for. It’s nice exploring the home not only for its lovely furnishing, but also because Nezuko gets to freely roam and explore with them.

She seems livelier, now.

Giyuu has to admit it’s odd seeing Nezuko out and about. He has interacted with her a few times before, but it’s usually quick encounters undercut with a sense of urgency or rushed by something else to do. Being on the tour of the estate with Nezuko has an odd sense of normalcy to it he hadn’t expected. She makes noises and expresses curiosity, as she wanders.

Tanjirou watches Nezuko as well, looking pleased at this development in personality.

“Thank you for accepting my invitation,” Lady Tamayo says.

Giyuu hums in acknowledgement, while Tanjirou graciously thanks her for inviting them. “Thank you for your help, with the couple. Are they alright?”

“The woman will be alright. The man is currently restrained.”

“You don’t have any issue treating injured humans?” Giyuu questions. A demon to be so close to human flesh and blood is a concerning thought.

Yushiro opens his mouth as if to say something, but Tamayo stops him with a hand on his shoulder. “It’s alright. You see, I have trained my body, and removed Muzan’s curse.”

Time freezes, as she utters those words. Removed Muzan’s curse? The entirety of the Demon Slayer’s corps had never considered the possibility before. It was impossible.

“No wonder I can’t smell you two.” Tanjirou says. “Most demons have some sort of smell to them. Like bloodlust. You don’t.”

“I suppose I wouldn’t.” Tamayo confirms. Yushiro rolls his eyes at Tanjirou.

“But…” Giyuu trails off, still in shock over the revelation. “How?”

“I’ve trained my body to exist on small amounts of blood transfusions, willingly given, never forcibly taken.” Tamayo explains courteously. “Yushiro can exist on even less, seeing as I’m the one who turned him.”

Giyuu has the sudden realization that despite generations of demon slayers existing, decades of pain and sweat put into the fight to eradicate demonkind and Muzan Kibutsuji– they don’t know anything. It was a frightful thought, realizing how ignorant they truly are.

“Really?” Tanjirou asks with a kind curiosity.

“Yes, but only after 200 years.”

“Wow.” Tanjjirou looks awed. “How old are you–”

Yushiro jabs him quickly, the sudden movement making Giyuu flinch and nearly attack before realizing the harmlessness of the situation, and mutters with a scandalized breath, “Never ask a lady her age!”

“Yushiro.” Tamayo says with a strict voice. The boy draws back with an annoyed glare towards Tanjirou.

“How often do you change people?” Giyuu questions Tamayo with a stern look. To have one person creating demons is already nightmare enough. The concept of two perpetuators…

“Not often at all. Only the terminally ill, or gravely injured, and I do warn them of the consequences beforehand.”

Yushiro nods his agreement beside her. The boy is young, the same age as Tanjirou. He could imagine a sick child agreeing to a cursed life, if it meant they got to live any life at all.

Giyuu hopes that the woman is telling the truth. Everything she has told them thus far has made little to no sense, and directly contradicts everything he has learned in the demon slayers, yet… He wants to believe her. Because of Nezuko.

“So,” Tanjirou says, “How do you reverse it? Change a demon back into a person?”

Tanjirou and Giyuu simultaneously lean in closer to listen better, much to the chagrin of Yushiro, who glares at them for being near Tamayo.

“There is way.” Tamayo says.

Giyuu blanches– he had been hoping for her to say so, but the concept itself is so out of the world, so groundbreaking–

“There is a cure for every ailment.” Tamayo continues. “However, I do not yet know it.”

“Damnit,” Giyuu mutters. Yushiro looks scandalized, but he does not jab him, an older hashira, the same way he would jab Tanjirou.

Tamayo looks at Giyuu. “You are a hashira, yes?”

Giyuu nods.

“Together, we should be able to find the cure. I’ve been wanting to help the Demon Slayer corps for a while. I’ve been dedicated to finding a cure for many years now. But I need data, you see. Blood samples, preferably. I can take some from the girl now,” Tamayo pulls out a needle and some sterile lab equipment from a nearby shelf, “but I would need more, from other demons, as well. The closer to Muzan, the better.”

“The twelve kizuki?” Giyuu asks incredulously.

“Yes.” Tamayo agrees.

“Who are the kizuki?” Tanjirou asks in question.

“The most dangerous demons there are.” Giyuu tells him. He looks the boy in his eye, as he warns him. “They are under direct command of Muzan. It is possible for a hashira to kill one of the lower six moons. But, the upper six haven’t been spotted in decades. They are all incredibly powerful, and have unique blood arts that are difficult to fight. If you come across one, and I’m not there, you should run.”

Tanjirou nods, looking spooked. “Okay…”

His face doesn’t betray if he will listen to Giyuu’s warning about running. He hopes he does— the headstrong way he rushed Muzan was dangerous, hasty. If he tried that again against another powerful demon, he would surely die.

“Their blood will be especially useful in finding the cure.” Tamayo says. She sits in front of Nezuko, who looks at her with a kind expression. She asks politely if she could take the girl’s blood, and when Nezuko nods, she draws a needle into the girl’s arm. Nezuko winces only the slightest bit. “You said she sleeps to heal?”

“Yes.” Tanjirou says. “She slept nearly two full years.”

“Interesting. I never heard of such a thing. Her blood will also prove incredibly useful.”

As the needle fills with blood, Tamayo takes it out, and fills a vial with the liquid. She carefully labels it, and instructs Yushiro to take it to her laboratory. The boy gives them a brief warning glare, before ushering off to complete the task.

“So,” Tamayo asks. “Will you help me find the cure?”

“Of course we will!” Tanjirou answers excitedly, as Giyuu gives a deep, genuine, nod.

“Thank yo—”

A crash interrupts the conversation. Temaris punch through the wall, and create a mess of the living room around them.

Giyuu leaps to his feet immediately, hand on his sword in seconds, leaping forward with movement.

Tanjirou is only a few seconds delayed behind him, leaping into action as well. “Nezuko, protect the injured woman!” He tells his sister, referring to the patient down the hall.

“Take that one,” Giyuu points to the demon woman with the balls.

“Okay!” Tanjirou agrees eagerly. Tamayo, and Yushiro, who has quickly returned when he heard the commotion, tells them to fight without them in mind.

“Like you can kill us!” The demon-girl cackles. “We’re the Twelve Kizuki!”

Giyuu gives them a hard look, and seeing no number engraved on their iris, quickly deduces that there is absolutely no way she is telling the truth. “No, you’re not.”

It takes him approximately three moves to slice the head off of the demon with arrows. Second form water wheel, to quickly approach him with minimal waste of movement. The demon attempts to push him away with his arrows, but Giyuu is an hashira, and he has faced far more formidable foes before. He dodges quickly, acting on pure instinct, and performs the first form, water surface slash, as he attempts to behead the demon.

The demon ducks quickly, avoiding the edge of his blade.

But Giyuu is quicker, and before the demon can put any space between them, even with his blood-art, he performs the ninth form splashing water flow.

His head lolls to the ground uselessly.

To his right, he can see Tanjirou fighting the demon with the temaris. The demon is loud, and goats him throughout the fight, and Yushiro is standing on the sidelines of the fight giving his own two-cents. Giyuu rolls his eyes.

If he acted now, it would take him only a few seconds and a couple water forms to finish the fight.

But…

Tanjirou needs to get stronger, especially if the Twelve Kizuki lay in their future.

He lets the other boy struggle in his fight, keeping a careful eye to make sure he did not struggle too much (for if something happened, he would never forgive himself.) He spends a few minutes collecting the blood specimen from the demon he had just killed. The situation was relatively safe compared to most other fights– no civilians in the immediate area, multiple backup nearby, no preexisting injuries. Without the second demon to aid her, the enemy is less of a hassle to deal with. This was a good fight for Tanjirou to experience on his own.

As much as he would like to ensure the boy’s safety and finish the fight for him, he can’t. He knows he can’t.

The demon is strong, stronger than he had expected, truthfully. She evades the boy’s attacks with ease, and launches a flurry of balls towards him. Tanjirou performs attack after attack as he edges his way towards the demon.

It takes Tanjirou only a few moments before he lodges his own sword into the demon’s neck, performing a successful third form flowing dances as he dodges her temaris.

Giyuu lets out a sigh of relief.

Tanjirou is panting, just the slightest, but not as much as he would’ve been if he hadn’t started practicing breath training on the way over.

Giyuu walks over to him, and gives him a curt nod. “Good job. You did well.”

Yushiro rolls his eyes, “You finished your fight in seconds! You wasted time helping!”

Giyuu shakes his head. “It was training for him.”

Tanjirou looks puzzled. “Was now really a good time to train? If you finished quickly, you should have made sure everyone was safe.”

“There is never a good time to train.”

Tamayo hums softly in the background. “The Twelve Kizuki you face will be much, much stronger, than these two.”

“Really?” Tanjirou looks surprised.

Giyuu nods in agreement. He had never faced one of the kizuki, but several hashira, people stronger than him, have died to them before. If Tanjirou expected to face them, he would need to level up exponentially, before then. “Stronger than the hashira.”

“Wow…”

Tamayo shows Tanjirou how to extract blood from the demons. He makes encouraging noises of interest as he watches. Yushiro huffs and begins to clean the remnants of fighting nearby.

The demon girl, dying, asks in a small childish voice for a temari. Giyuu startles, thinking the demon isn’t truly dead after all.

But Tanjirou, kind Tanjirou, doesn’t move. He places one of the balls near her body, and the girl sniffles pathetically as she fades.

The sun begins to slowly rise.

Tamayo, Yushiro, and Nezuko hide in the basement of the estate.

“We will be leaving here,” Tamayo tells them. “Having Muzan nearby is concerning.”

“I understand.” Giyuu nods.

“If you wish it,” Tamayo looks over to Nezuko, “we can take care of the girl.”

“I appreciate the concern,” Tanjirou says with a hard kindness, “but we’re going to stick together. She’s my sister.”

Tamayo nods, as if she had expected that sort of answer. “I wish you good fortune, in your upcoming fortune.”

“Yes, leave now.” Yushiro says bluntly.

Nezuko hugs Tamayo quite suddenly, and gives Yushiro a pat on the head, causing the boy to blush. Tanjirou laughs and thanks them profusely for their help.

“Thank you,” Giyuu says. He bows deeply, towards Tamayo. “You’ve given me much to think about. And while I cannot guarantee the help of the Demon Slayer Corps, I can guarantee my aid. I will do my best to help with the cure.”

Tamayo nods, “Thank you, hashira.”

Outside, pass the demon estate, pass the city, they begin walking the dirt road they entered on. Tanjirou’s crow helpfully directs them steadily Southeast.

A few miles into the walk, they find a brightly clad Mizunoto on his knees. “Please! Marry me!” He screams, towards a woman who looks at him scornfully.

Tanjirou and Giyuu pass each other a look of unease and mild disgust.

Chapter Text

They leave the pleasant floral scent of Lady Tamayo’s home.

Giyuu has them make a few stops before getting on the road once more.

Firstly, as a hashira, it was Giyuu’s duty to update Oyakata-sama as quickly as possible about what he had witnessed that day: Muzan Kibutsuji, the creator of all demons and the embodiment of evil itself, has been finally been spotted. And they had lived to tell the tale. No one had seen the perpetrator of demons in centuries, and the fact he and Tanjirou lived to report the spotting was monumental. Additionally, the information Tamayo had given them was special. It would prove useful to the corps. A demon that stands against Muzan has never been heard of before.

What they had seen and heard was life changing information.

The (admittedly rare, but not altogether zero) possibility of a cure was a spark of hope.

And so, as they stand near the city’s exit, prepared to get on the road to the next mission being crowed at them, Giyuu stops to write a letter to the master. This was urgent news indeed.

He pulls his tsuguko, Tanjirou, over to the side. “Here,” Giyuu hands Tanjirou some money. “Would you mind buying us some food for the day while I write this letter?”

Tanjirou nods eagerly, head bobbing and the wooden box moving with the motion. He wonders how much of that Nezuko feels. Eagerly, Tanjirou asks, “What do you enjoy eating?”

“Salmon daikon.” He answers instinctively. “But… we don’t have time for a long meal.” Giyuu scratches his chin. “Get something we can eat quickly.”

Tanjirou nods, looking quite serious about his mission, and leaves.

Giyuu writes the letter to the master with urgency. He uses up all the parchment he had on his person, mentally reminding himself to pick some more up when he had time. The fountain pen he had recently purchased proves useful.

“Kanzaburo.” Giyuu calls for his old crow.

“Caw.” Kanzaburo teeters up to him uncertainly. He has a slight tremor to him that is semi-permanent. His eyes are glossy. His actions are marked by the senility of old age.

He’s been offered, once, to have his crow replaced with one younger and healthier. He rejected the offer, despite the practicality of it. Ultimately, he couldn’t stand the thought of abandoning Kanzaburo, even if the bird isn’t the best at his job.

“Could you take this letter to Oyakata-sama for me?” Giyuu asks the bird.

Kanzaburo caws. “Yes. Oyakata-sama. I know which way that is.”

“Are you sure?” Giyuu raises an eyebrow doubtfully.

“Yes!” The bird stretches his wings with a small tremor, and takes off. His flight pattern wobbles in the air.

Giyuu hopes the old crow is going in the right direction. He’s quite sure his message won’t be received for several days, factoring in any wrong turns the crow will undoubtedly take.

Tanjirou returns shortly after he sends his letter off, looking proud of the findings in his hands. He excitedly holds up a couple rice balls. “Look!”

There are two for each of them. Salmon filled, he notes pleasantly. Tanjirou eats one of his, and thoughtfully stores the other for later.

Giyuu eats both of his quickly, without thinking.

“Eh? Are you still hungry?” Tanjirou asks with concern. “Do you want mine? Should we purchase more before we leave the city?”

“It’s fine.” Giyuu shakes your head. “Keep yours. I simply eat quickly.” And a lot. But he wouldn’t take Tanjirou’s food.

Giyuu could eat, and eat, and eat, even if he wasn’t all that hungry to begin with. That was simply the sort of appetite he had. The food would be enough until they reached the next part of their journey.

“Okay…”

Tanjirou’s crow caws at them once more to begin moving towards their next mission. “Southeast! Quickly!”

A few miles into the walk, they find a brightly clad Mizunoto on his knees. “Please! Marry me!” He screams desperately towards a woman who looks at him scornfully.

What is this kid’s issue? Giyuu wonders, as he watches the mess unfolding before his eyes.

Tanjirou wastes no time in strutting forward to correct the boy into leaving the girl alone. He takes it to be his responsibility to lecture the boy on manners, apparently, and pulls the back of the boy’s robes.

Yanking him off the ground, and away from the girl, Tanjirou yells at him scathingly for his audacity. “What’s wrong with you?!”

“You!” The boy turns around and sputters. “I recognize you from the final selection!”

Tanjirou looks disgusted, which Giyuu had never seen the boy make such an expression before, and finds it mildly funny to see him so aggrieved. “I don’t know you. And stop annoying your sparrow!”

The boy takes this in stride, and jolts away from Tanjirou.

He goes to pester the girl again, but she turns around suddenly and slaps him across the face. She walks away, huffing angrily as she retreats.

The boy wails and cries pathetically on the dirt floor.

“Ugh…” Giyuu groans with disgust.

The boy startles at his voice, and looks between him and Tanjirou. A pathetic look of desperation appears on his face, as he lays down on the floor and looks up at them. He begs, voice rising in pitch, “Please. You don’t understand. I’m going to die soon. You need to protect me until I get married, at least. I’m really going to die. Please, help me.”

“Um…” Giyuu looks at him at a loss for words. He didn’t have much experience with people who were so whiny.

Tanjirou shudders and takes a deep breath. Then, composing himself, he plasters a hesitant smile on his face. “My name is Tanjirou Kamado. This is Giyuu Tomioka,” he gestures to Giyuu, who keeps some distance between himself and the Mizunoto grovelling on the floor, “what is your name?”

“Zenitsu Agatsuma.” The boy sniffs. He looks at Giyuu with a critical eye. “You look old.”

Giyuu sputters in shock, “What?”

Tanjirou drops his jaw for a moment, before looking at Zenitsu, affronted. “Have some respect! He’s a hashira, you know!” He defends, on Giyuu’s behalf.

Zenitsu perks up at that. He looks at Giyuu with wide tearful eyes. “Oh. So can you keep me safe, then?”

Giyuu rolls his eyes, and doesn’t bother replying.

“Of course he can.” Tanjirou says hotly. “But, why would you enter the Demon Slayer Corps if you can’t defend yourself?”

How did this kid pass the Final Selection? Giyuu wonders. It was a bit hypocritical, of course, for him to question someone on the final selection. He himself did not pass.

“Well,” Zenitsu begins telling them a story about how he had racked up quite a lot of debt— again, how? He must’ve been a young child when this happened? How does a young child acquire debt?— and that when debt collectors came, the only person around to save him was a retired hashira who was taking on apprentices. “The training he put me through was so brutal and hellish, I entered the Final Selection hoping I would die and be freed! Now, I’ve been suffering even more since then, and I fear everyday I’m going to get eaten by a demon…”

“Right.” Giyuu says. “That’s… well…”

Tanjirou hums thoughtfully. A pensive look is on his face as he listens to the boy’s story. Placating, he puts a hand on his shoulder. “Well, your next mission won’t be all that bad. Are you hungry?”

Zenitsu's stomach grumbles just before he nods. Tanjirou takes out the onigiri they had bought before leaving the city from his pack and offers it to Zenitsu. “Here. Take it.”

Zenitsu takes it, and takes one big greedy bite, before squinting at Tanjirou. “Aren’t you hungry as well?”

Giyuu knows Tanjirou has to be hungry– Giyuu already greedily ate his own onigiri a while back, and he was already hungry again. Tanjirou had to be quite hungry by now.

“That’s the only food I have,” Tanjirou explains, in lieu of answer.

Zenitsu breaks the rice ball in half, and gives Tanjirou the slightly bigger piece.

“We can buy more food as soon as we get to the village,” Giyuu remarks.

“Hashiras get paid quite well don’t they?” Zenitsu eyes Giyuu’s pockets.

Giyuu stares ahead unamusedly, and Tanjirou blanches at the gall at the other boy.

They make it to their destination a few hours later.

Tanjirou, who had taken Zenitsu’s arm along the way to drag him as the boy began complaining once more, drops it as soon as they approach a large woodland mansion.

Immediately, Giyuu feels the presence of the demons within it. He rests his hand on the handle of his sword.

“I smell blood.” Tanjirou announces. “And… something else…”

“Hm,” Giyuu says. Like Urokoudaki, Tanjirou’s sense of smell was a sixth sense. He examines the area quickly, and finds a pair of young children. “There are children.”

“Let’s leave!” Zenitsu cowers. “I don’t like this strange sound I’m hearing!”

Sound..? Giyuu doesn’t hear anything coming from within.

Tanjirou approaches the children with a bright smile. They cower, but Tanjirou, who had raised several younger siblings, knows exactly how to react. He holds Zenitsu’s sparrow out on his finger gently. “Look.” He tells them. “It’s okay. We’re here to help.”

Giyuu envies Tanjirou’s endless ability to pacify people.

Zenitsu watches beside him.

“He’s…” Zenitsu says, blinking. He doesn’t finish his sentence.

Giyuu hums and nods.

The children explain that the mansion is being haunted by a monster, which had taken their oldest siblings. The two children had followed a trail of their brother’s blood to mansion.

“We‘ll get your bother back.” Tanjirou reassures them.

“I really don’t like the sound of this.” Zenitsu says. “Don’t you hear that creepy sound? Like a tsuzumi! We should go.”

“I don’t hear anything.” Giyuu says. He wonders if perhaps, like Tanjirou with his enhanced sense of smell, if Zenitsu had enhanced hearing. He was pretty sure Uzui had a similar ability.

Suddenly— a window crashes, and a body comes flying out.

Giyuu instinctively moves in a position in front of the children, swords instantly ready to defend, before he realizes it is only a corpse.

Tanjirou runs up to check the body. He attempts to help the body, but Giyuu can tell that the person has died on impact. After checking for a few moments for a pulse, Tanjirou looks down silently.

A distant tapping sound comes from the mansion, an ominous soundtrack.

“This isn’t our brother,” the child says. “That isn’t his clothing. He’s still in there.”

“We’ll go save him.” Tanjirou announces.

Giyuu doesn’t echo the statement, refusing to make promises he cannot keep. It wouldn't do to give them false hope.

“Let’s go.” Giyuu’s sword hangs from his grip, as he leads his tsuguko into the woodland mansion.

“I don’t want to!” Zenitsu wails.

“So stay.” Giyuu says simply. “We don’t need you.”

Zenitsu splutters.

“Please, watch over this for me while we enter.” Tanjirou says to the pair of children. He gently places Nezuko’s box beside them with a smile. “We’ll retrieve your brother, don’t worry.”

Giyuu hesitates to leave them alone, and nearly asks the cowardly slayer to stay behind just to watch over the children– but Zenitsu is already dragging his feet behind Tanjirou, nervously gripping his sword and mumbling unhapilly.

Besides, if the crows asked for three slayers to be here, then it must be necessary.

They enter the mansion, and the beat of tzunumi sounds–

And then, they are separated.

“Tanjirou?!” Giyuu calls. He leaves the room he has suddenly found himself in, and opens a new sliding door. “Tanjirou?!”

The room turns sideways at the sound of the tzunumi, and Giyuu hastily performs a quick movement to steady himself on the ground, which had once been the ceiling. The blood demon art behind the mansion is powerful, separating them all. He senses, now that he is fully inside the demonic lair, that there are at least three or four demons within the mansion. If he was alone, he would not worry. He would deal with it as it comes.

But he is not alone. He has the lives of several others to worry about.

Giyuu swears, and with his blade ready, he heads towards the nearest demon, just as the room turns sideways once more.

Beheading the first demon is as easy as breathing.

It was not the one responsible for the mansion. This one had a blood demon art that let it spit out fire while it attacked him. He worried at first that the fire would spread throughout the walls of the mansion and set the whole place ablaze, but fortunately the demon was weak, and his blood demon art was contained solely to the room they fought in. The entirety of that fight took maybe a minute, or two.

After beheading the first demon, Giyuu prowled the mansion calling out the names of Tanjirou, and occasionally Zenitsu, to no avail. They must have been taken to an entirely different part of the mansion.

It took him a long while before he found another demon, jumping around as the rooms turn every which way as he searched.

The fight with the second demon was equally quick. Only a few breath forms, and Giyuu had the head of the demon rolling away from its body. It cried pathetically, claiming it was an unfair fight and he wanted a rematch. Giyuu doesn’t deign a reply.

A beat strikes– and suddenly, the room stops turning.

Ah, Giyuu thinks, Tanjirou must have defeated the demon with the tzunumi blood art. Well done.

He feels something swelling in his chest.

Pride, he thinks.

Satisfied and sensing that there aren’t any demons remaining in the mansion (did Zenitsu take care of the fourth? The kid who was whining the whole time? Really?) he exits the mansion. It takes him a moment to find a doorway leading to the exterior, and he heads towards where they had entered.

Giyuu finds, upon exiting the mansion, Zenitsu bloody and beaten, laying on top of Nezuko’s box. A man with two swords and a boar masks stands over him menacingly, attacking.

His stomach curdles at the sight.

It takes him only a second to have the boar-man on the floor, subdued. He holds his arms behind his back, and presses a knee into his spine. He eyes the trail of blood leaving Zenitsu’s nose that leaks across the wooden box. “How dare you!”

“What happened?” Tanjirou suddenly calls out.

“Check his injuries.” Giyuu says. “Zenitsu was protecting N– your box from this guy.”

“Get off me and fight me fair!” Boar-guy yells out, face pressed into the dirt.

“No. It is taboo for demon slayers to fight one another. You,” Giyuu squints at his cut-up uniform, and serrated swords, “Are a slayer, right?”

“Zenitsu, are you okay?”

“I think I’m dying.”

“Fight me!” Boar head screams.

“No. Stop moving.”

“Are you really dying?”

“Yes! I told you I was destined to die on this mission.”

The children watch with concern between the two dialogues happening. Giyuu notes that their missing brother is beside them. He must’ve been within the mansion.

“Listen.” Giyuu says loudly. “Explain to me why you tried fighting him.”

“He got in my way!” Boar guy says. He squirms on the floor, trying to wiggle out of Giyuu’s grip. He feels the boy’s bones nearly dislocated underneath him, but he applies weight so the boy cannot escape the hold. “He was protecting that demon!”

“What demon?” Giyuu asks, quietly, hoping it is not the one demon he expects it to be.

“The one in the box!”

Tanjirou gapes, and the children scream and back away from Nezuko’s box.

Zenitus continues clinging onto the wooden box. “I knew it was a demon,” he says looking to Tanjirou and him, “I heard the demonic noises as soon as we first met. But, well. Tanjirou, you have such a kind sound, the kindest sound I have ever heard. And you’re a hashira. You wouldn’t violate the rules if it wasn’t for good reason. If this box belonged to you both, then I wanted to protect it.”

Giyuu is struck by the coward’s kindness.

He protected Nezuko at his own expense. Blood drips from his face as proof.

“Thank you, Zenitsu.” Giyuu says earnestly. He had a bad feeling about leaving Nezuko out here. If this boar-head had managed to genuinely harm her– he would’ve never forgiven himself. They had already sacrificed so much to protect Nezuko, it would be silly for her to die such a meaningless death.

Tanjirou bends over and bows repeatedly to Zenitsu. “I knew you had to become a slayer for a reason. You protected Shoichi, and you killed that demon! And then you protected Nezuko!”

“Eh? I didn’t kill the demon. That was all him.” Zenitsu points a finger at the young boy, who blanches and look at Zenitsu in confusion, mumbling What is wrong with him?

“If I let you get up,” Giyuu says to the boar-head guy. “Will you stop attacking?”

“Yes.”

Giyuu squints at him in suspicion. He waits a moment, hesitatingly, before he releases the hold on him and stands up.

Boar-head immediately launches an attack on Giyuu himself, cackling maniacally. “Ahaha! You fell for my lie! Fight me!”

Giyuu presses a hand into the neck’s pressure point, and knocks him unconscious.

“That guy has some serious issues,” Zenitsu, of all people, mutters.

Chapter Text

Giyuu once again finds himself digging graves for the dead.

Tanjirou and the siblings they’ve saved help with the burial process. Tanjirou does most of the grunt work of digging, putting rough hands to the soil and scooping out rough chunks of dirt. The children, who Giyuu tried sending away to return home as they no longer have any business here, insist on staying a bit longer. The three siblings crowd around Tanjirou and copy his motions, scooping dirt with their little hands.

As they do so, Giyuu ventures into the mansion once more. The entire place smells like decay. He drags the corpses out one by one and places them into the newly formed graves, as Tanjirou tells the children to look away.

Zenitsu, the only person with injuries, lays against a tree resting. His injuries weren’t too bad, at least it wasn’t from the combined medical evaluation of Giyuu and Tanjirou. A dislocated shoulder and broken nose. Giyuu helped pop his shoulder into place and wrapped it with some bandages on his person. His nose would need more professional assistance to be set in place properly, so for that all they did was give him some paste to relieve the pain. Zenitsu should probably head to the Butterfly Estate, or to a medical office in the village nearby, to make sure he wouldn’t be stuck with a permanently crooked nose. But all in all none of the injuries will be so worrisome that it will affect the slayer long term. A few days of rest and he should be back in fighting condition, even if his face is still a bit sore, and not quite straight.

Slayers racked up injuries in nearly every fight. Even after healing, the scarring of every wound limits movement over time. To prevent injury was to increase your mobility, long term.

A loud noise echoes throughout the woods.

They all flinch at the sudden noise, as the boar guy suddenly stands upright and screams at the top of his lungs.

Zenitsu startles and screams back, “Get back from me you monster!”

“Ah. You’re up.” Giyuu grimaces in annoyance. He wipes his hands on his pants, wanting to remove the feeling of corpse from his fingertips.

“What’re you doing?!”

“We’re burying the dead.” Tanjirou says as he scoops a particularly heavy pile of dirt out.

“Why?”

Giyuu grimaces again, as Zenitsu widens his eyes in bewilderment. “What do you mean why?!” The blond asks incredulously.

Tanjirou, patiently, explains that it is the proper thing to do when somebody dies. He gives the boar-slayer a curious look as he does so.

The boar mask stares back unblinkingly, eyeballs looking crooked. “Why isn’t the weak one helping?”

Zenitsu splutters again, as Tanjirou says, “He’s injured. And don’t say that!”

Boar guy looks back and forward between them all, before leaping into the air. “I’m going to dig a hundred graves!”

“Please don’t.” Giyuu sighs. “We do not need a hundred graves.”

“Watch me!” The boar guy cackles maniacally.

“He’s insane.” Zenitsu comments, leaning against the tree wearily. “I’m surrounded by crazy people!”

“Like this,” Tanjirou demonstrates the process of digging, as the children back away from the bizarre boar-man. He smiles pleasantly at the other boy. “My name is Tanjirou Kamado. That’s Giyuu Tomioka, and Zenitsu Agatsuma. Do you have a name?”

“Inosuke Hashibira! King of the mountain!” Inosuke proudly states.

“He looks scary.” The little girl whispers to her brother aloud. The little boy nods with wide eyes.

Giyuu hums. He turns to Inosuke, and asks, “Why do you wear that?”

“What're you trying to say!”

“You are a demon slayer, right? Weren’t you given a proper uniform and weapon?”

“He was at our final selection.” Zenitsu chimes in from the base of the tree.

“Really?” Tanjirou says. “I don’t remember seeing him.”

“He kept digging holes and hiding in the trees. He scared the shit out of me!”

“Right…” Giyuu trails off. “Of course…”

“How did you get to the final selection?” Tanjirou asks curiously.

“I fought some guys and stole their swords!” Inosuke proudly holds up his serrated blades. He cackles. “Such weaklings! Then I overheard them talking about a test of strength, so I followed them and beat the test easily!”

“What’s wrong with you?!” Zenitsu screeches from his resting position.

Giyuu presses a finger to his forehead, feeling a migraine coming in.

As they come close to finishing the graveyard, a crow arrives bearing orders.

“Messaage for Water Pillar Tomioka Giyuu!” The bird cries. It flies in circles above his head, flapping its wings quickly in the air. “Message for-”

“That’s me.” Giyuu answers.

“You are to report to headquarters immediately!” The bird cries out. “I repeat! Report to headquarters immediately! Alone! Oyakata-sama needs to speak to you immediately!”

Kanzaburo must have flown directly to his intended location, for once, if his message had already been received and replied to. He feels proud of his old crow for making the trip so speedily. He assumes the bird must be resting at headquarters, now, and a temporary messenger was sent in lieu.

“I see.” Giyuu says. Report to Oyakata-sama…

“Zenitsu Agatsuma!” The bird caws out. “Rest at a nearby wisteria house..”

Alone.

The thought of separating from Tanjirou made Giyuu feel nervous. Other demon slayers have already found out about Nezuko. While the two idiots seemed not to think too hard about it, it didn’t deny the fact their secret had already been blown wide open. If Giyuu left Tanjirou behind, and somebody else, someone who overpowered Tanjirou came across Nezuko, then…

“It’s okay.” Tanjirou says quietly to Giyuu. It’s just them, as Zenitsu and Inosuke run around in the distance. Or, maybe, Inosuke is chasing Zenitsu. It’s hard to tell from the distance. “I can smell the worry coming off you! I’ll be fine, don’t worry! I’ll probably stick with Zenitsu until I get a new mission assigned to me.”

Giyuu releases some of the tension in his shoulders. He hasn’t felt so protective over another in a long, long, time. The feeling strikes him.

“That’s a good idea.” He acknowledges. Wisteria houses are safe. Nezuko would have to be tightly quarantined in her box, but they would both be safe there. Plus, Zenitsu already proved he’d help keep Nezuko safe, if worse came down to it.

“We’ll see you soon.” Tanjirou smiles softly. “Seriously. Don’t worry.”

“Right.” Giyuu nods.

He’s being paranoid– Tanjirou isn’t even going to be on his own. It’ll be fine. He has to trust that. Nothing disastrous will happen.

“I’ll leave now, then.” He tells him. On his person he keeps all his belongings. And the crow demanded urgency.

With one last goodbye, Giyuu nods in Tanjirou’s direction. “Be safe.”

Tomioka Giyuu leaves the siblings with a sense of dread weighing in his heart.

As he begins his long journey to the estate, his mind whispers anxieties to him. He fluctuates between worrying over the Kamado siblings— Was Tanjirou sent on a mission already? Was Nezuko safe? Did others already find out about the demon they were harboring? Was it a hashira?— and wondering how he was going to explain everything to Oyakata-sama. The perpetrator of all demons has been spotted. The cure could, potentially, be remedied. It was groundbreaking information that would shake the master, and he would have to be the one to inform him.

He forces himself to keep walking onward, pushing his worrisome thoughts to the side. He focuses on the action of walking, the mindless rhythmic motion of left foot, right foot, left foot, right…

He hopes that Tanjirou and Nezuko are alright.

He refuses to believe otherwise has happened.

On the evening of the first night of his journey, he passes through a remote village. The sun is beginning to creep down the horizon as he sees the silhouette of buildings in the distance. He makes it there before the moon and stars have truly come out, the sky a darkening purple as he walks through the village’s road.

There are hardly any people left walking around this time, most people home dining with their families or preparing for bed. The few stragglers left look at him curiously.

One person, an old man with a slight limp and a stern, wrinkly face, beckons him over as he passes him. “You there. Are you looking for a place to stay?”

Giyuu had originally planned to walk straight to the manor, no breaks included. But as of now, he was only about a third of the way there, and it was improbable he’d make it to the estate by tomorrow night. It would be best to rest for the night, and continue in the morning. “Yes. I suppose so.”

The old man raises an eyebrow and points down the road. “Ask old Mei-san for a room. She rents out the spare room in her house to travelers. It’s the house with the blue lantern outside the door.”

Giyuu gives a respectful bow to the stranger. “Thank you. I appreciate the help.”

The old man waves him off to get moving.

Giyuu walks down the road, taking in the sight of friends laughing with one another, lovers walking hand in hand, parents hurrying their children home. He intrusively imagines what a demon would do to this village if they came across it. The image of a demon feasting on said lovers and mothers and children infests his mind. Despite the hard work of demon slayers, the plague of demons continues to infest the countryside. Hopefully, with the cure, with the image of Muzan Kibutsuji, he can guarantee a peaceful future for these innocent people. He pushes the dark thoughts aside.

He spots a little home with a blue lantern hanging from the roof, approaches the door and knocks gently.

It takes a few minutes, long enough that he wonders if he should knock again, before he hears footsteps approaching. An old wrinkly woman that only comes up to his chest in height opens the door, looking tired.

“I’m sorry to disturb you.” Giyuu clears his throat. “A man told me you rent rooms.”

The old woman waves his apology off. “You heard correctly. Come on in.” She leads him through her house, small and quaint, clean but dusty in the hard-to-reach spots. She slides open a door to an empty room, where she grabs a basket kept alongside the farthest wall and pulls a futon from it. She gives it a few rough shakes, flinging the dust off the fabric. Gently, she lays it out on the floor, and grabs sheets from the same basket.

“Well, here you go.” She gestures to the room, utterly empty aside from the futon. “Hope it’ll do for the night. The cost is low.”

“This is perfectly fine.”

“Good. Give me just one moment, I’ll be right back.” She gestures for him to get comfortable as she hobbles away.

Giyuu sits on his tucked knees and waits patiently for the old woman to return.

After a few minutes, she enters the room carrying a tray of tea and a rueful smile. “I hope you can humor an old woman.”

Giyuu nods, telling himself to not crush the woman’s generosity and kindness with his usual demeanor.

The old woman smiles and sits across from him. She begins pouring two cups of tea from the pot she brewed. “You are traveling alone?”

“Yes.”

“I hope it hasn’t been too long of a trip. Your family must miss you.”

Giyuu hums, unsure of what to say in response to that, and gently raises the tea to his lips.

“I’ve only started renting rooms after my children left, for the extra income.” The woman says. She sighs and takes a sip. “My husband had gotten sick several years ago. I was left to raise two children by myself, can you imagine that? Two children, a boy and a girl.”

“That must have been difficult.” Giyuu responds.

“It was. But, it was beautiful too. You’ll understand someday.” She pats his knee with a mischievous grin. “I love my children very much. My eldest daughter, she got married two springs ago. It was a beautiful wedding. I never cried more than when I watched her go.”

“What happened to your son?” Giyuu asks.

The woman looks down. “I don’t know. He ran off last autumn. Left without a word of goodbye.”

“That’s horrible.”

“Perhaps. I can only pray he is safe.” The old woman takes another sip of tea, slurping in the way all old people do. She gives him a thoughtful look. “I hope you haven’t run off from your parents, young man.”

“Oh. No, I haven’t. My parents died when I was very young.” Giyuu replies evenly. He is left with only abstract images of his parents' faces, having been so young when they died. Years later, he can only vaguely remember what they have looked like.

His sister he remembers more clearly. He remembers her laughter and the way she looked on her wedding day and how she only drank coffee with an obnoxious amount of sugar. And yet, time can etch at any memory, and he finds himself unable to recollect the way her hands moved when she sewed, or the types of food she liked to eat in the morning. Somewhere in the last thirteen or so years he has forgotten the small details that had made his sister up. The realization brings a sharp pain to his chest.

“My older sister raised me.” He says simply.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Her face pinches in sympathy. “She must’ve been a strong girl to raise her younger brother.”

“She was.”

“Was?”

“She died as well, many years ago.” Something about the old woman’s earnest expression makes him want to confess his thoughts to this stranger. “I must admit, her death pained me more than that of my parents.”

“You’ve been through a lot, for such a young person.”

“I’m not a child."

The old woman laughs. “To someone like me, you are.”

Giyuu hums, unable to reply to that.

“Well. I do hope you have people you can call family, even if they aren’t the ones you were born with.”

“I… do.”

“That is good.” The old woman nods her approval. “Others are all we have in this life.”

He finally sees the Estate on the evening of his third day of travel.

The moon hangs high in the sky, the sole light source illuminating the estate. It is the darkest hour of the night as he approaches the familiar home.

Oyakata-sama is… probably asleep, at this time.

Despite the urgency in the situation, it’d be inappropriate to storm into the manor in the middle of the night. The children were asleep. The master and his wife are most likely asleep as well. Giyuu entering the domestic household right now would be wrong, even with the urgency in Oyakata-sama’s summons.

Giyuu sighs from his position outside the master's home, before ultimately deciding he should make his way to his own estate nearby and see the master tomorrow.

He turns swiftly on his heel and begins the walk to his own estate for the night.

“Tomioka?” A voice inquires.

Giyuu turns. Rengoku stands in front of him, a cheerful grin on his face. “It is you! What’re you doing?”

“I was supposed to report to Oyakata-sama.” Giyuu says. “But I’ve only just arrived now, and it’s too late to…”

“I see!” Renoguku exclaims. His voice holds a perpetual confidence to it, that Giyuu has found himself envying more than once. “Do you need somewhere to stay the night?”

“Um… No,” Giyuu shakes his head. He hadn’t even thought of sleep. He was going to wait diligently until the first of the morning’s rays to speak with the master. “I was going to wait. Here,” he kicks the dirt unceremoniously.

“You were going to wait outside all night?” Rengoku asks with a smirk. “You are a funny man, Tomioka! If you’d like, you can stay the night at my estate, since yours is farther away, if I recall…”

“I wouldn’t impose.”

“You’re not imposing! You are my friend, after all!”

…Friend?

Giyuu had not known Rengoku considered him a friend.

Ever since Tanjirou had entered his life, he had found himself slowly opening up more to others. Thrice so far, he had stayed behind after pillar meetings to socialize. Thrice, and only thrice. Rengoku had always been one of the friendlier hashira, kind to him even when Giyuu tried to put distance between himself and the rest of the hashiraa.

But, Rengoku was kind to everyone.

“We’re friends?” Giyuu asks, a vulnerability in his voice he did not expect.

Neither did Rengoku, apparently. His eyes widen for a moment, before he chuckles and puts a hand on Giyuu’s shoulder. “Of course! We are comrades in arms!”

Giyuu hums an affirmative noise.

A couple years ago, hell, a couple months ago, he never would have imagined himself as anything other than alone. Yet, he had a tsuguko, and evidently, friends.

“I’ll wake you first thing in the morning, so you don’t miss your meeting with the master. But you need not suffer needlessly, standing outside all night, when you can rest for a few hours.”

“Thank you, Rengoku.”

“It's what friends are for!” Rengoku slaps his arm with another chuckle.

Giyuu finds himself smiling despite himself.