Chapter Text
Tanjirou knew well how dangerous it was to make his way home after dark.
Today, like every day, owing to the countless warnings his mother had given him, he had aimed to return before sundown. But in the summer, selling charcoal could be difficult: when the weather was hot, there was less demand for it, and since the days were longer, Tanjirou would often travel farther than the local town in order to find more customers. Just as yesterday and the day before, he hadn't managed to sell his entire basket, and the sun was well below the horizon by the time he was hurrying his way through the darkening fields, the warm evening breeze rustling through his hair and earrings. He knew his mother and siblings would be starting to worry soon—Tanjirou was mentally kicking himself over it, but it was too late for that now! All he could do was try and get back as quickly as possible. It should be fine, he thought– he shouldn't get lost when the wind wasn't too strong, since he could find his way by smell, and the moon was nearly full, so there was enough light to guide him.
Get home safe now, kid. You don’t want the demons to gobble you up.
I’m already too old for those sorts of stories. Thank you very much, sir! I’ll be heading back now!
The last person Tanjirou had sold charcoal to, an older man from the furthest village, had been slightly tipsy, still grinning from ear to ear when he slurred the words. He’d clapped his hands on Tanjirou’s shoulders and squeezed strangely hard, making him worry he might be about to lose his balance. Knowing he most likely wasn’t trying to be rude, Tanjirou had bowed politely before setting off, paying the man no mind as the last of the evening sun began to fade.
When night comes, demons come out.
How many years ago had it been, now, since he had last heard that? Tanjirou’s grandmother had often said it when he was small. And when he was still small, it would scare him, but now, he had grown, and every time he pictured the idea, it seemed like it only felt sillier and sillier. A demon, with horns, red or blue skin, a loincloth and a giant iron club, appearing in the middle of the road before him? That was the only image his mind could conjure when he thought about it, and it just seemed ridiculous. If demons did exist, would they really look like that? Or would they disguise themselves, in order to trick people?
Some people considered foxes to be demons. At first, whenever Tanjirou heard their screaming cry, he’d almost mistake it for a human’s and panic, thinking somebody was in danger. But over time, he had gotten used to smelling them out, and would be the first to comfort his younger siblings if they were scared by the sounds. People were afraid when they didn’t understand something, and then that fear turned into rumours and stories about monsters and ghosts and spirits. That was what he had come to think.
Still, walking home in the dark, at times Tanjirou might be startled by those human-like screeches, or the shape of old scarecrows in the fields, the sudden flapping of crows – no matter how aware he was of his surroundings, the human instinct was to be cautious. But he knew this route by heart, and had rarely ever run into anything dangerous. He could already recognise the scent of any wild animal he needed to watch out for.
The field path seemed to stretch endlessly into the distance, with the bright three-quarter moon shining in the sky under a thin haze of clouds. The sound of the breeze, of the remaining charcoal jostling in the basket on Tanjirou’s back with every step he took, and birds calling in the distance. The singing of cicadas and grasshoppers in the reeds. He smiled to himself, grateful, up at the moon that guided him. When walking alone, it always made him feel calmer, as if it was a companion helping him return home safely.
Abruptly, the hint of an unpleasant scent prickled his nose, and he thought it might be carrion. But whatever it was, it scattered away when the wind picked up and changed its direction, blowing from behind him with enough force to send his earrings rattling. With his sense of smell temporarily dulled, Tanjirou looked around, and almost jumped, startled, when he saw that there was a person standing a short distance away on the path.
There hadn't been someone there before. Tanjirou hadn't heard anybody walking, either. Then again, he had been distracted.
"Excuse me! Are you maybe lost?"
Calling out to the stranger, Tanjirou smiled politely as he approached them. It was dark, but he could already tell it wasn't anyone he recognised from the nearby towns or villages, so maybe it was somebody passing by. His first instinct was always to trust people – and to help them if they were in need.
The person, stood facing the direction of the moon in the sky, was incredibly tall. It was the first thing Tanjirou noticed up close - his eyes were just about square with his elbow. The next thing was that his hair was very long; certainly the longest Tanjirou had ever seen on a man. It hung past his waist, hair so black it seemed to blend into the night. The silk shibori-textured kimono he wore seemed to be of very fine quality, and unimaginably expensive, to be sure! What business might such a wealthy person have out here in the middle of nowhere?
The only response Tanjirou received, however, was the sound of the wind. The man didn't move or show any reaction to his words. He hadn’t accidentally offended him in some way, had he?
Bowing his head slightly, Tanjirou tried again: "Please excuse me, but I didn't recognise you from around here, and so I only thought you might have lost your way!"
More silence. Tanjirou really didn't want to be rude, but could this man hear him? Or, was he maybe just ignoring him?
"...Are you alright, sir? Is something the matter?”
The stranger turned slightly, and the face that had been hidden in profile by the hair that framed it was fully illuminated by the moonlight. Tanjirou, who had been politely lowering his head, was drawn to look up at him.
Despite the man’s tall, broad build, his face was unusually smooth and delicate. Although his clear skin was marred by two strange markings shaped like flames, one on the left side of his forehead and the other his neck, to Tanjirou, they didn't detract from his appearance at all. Instead, they only made him more fixated on his features – on the dark, sharp eyes returning his gaze and his long, appealingly-shaped throat...
An innocent blush warmed Tanjirou’s cheeks. He... had never seen a man this beautiful before.
There was a certain flower, he remembered. A pretty white flower whose petals unfurled in the evening. Someone from the village had told him it was called a moonflower, and that it was written with the characters 'night' and 'face'. This person’s appearance was just like that flower, Tanjirou thought. A face that was most lovely under the light of the moon...
Oh no – he’d forgotten his manners! Tanjirou quickly averted his gaze again, embarrassed, and barked out an apology.
"S-Sorry! I didn't mean to stare! I wasn't trying to be rude! I just didn't know that a man could be even more beautiful than a woman!" he admitted honestly, face burning.
If the man had been surprised by that honesty, however, he certainly didn’t show it. He didn’t even appear to blink – but his eyes remained fixed on Tanjirou, who only grew more bashful in the face of his silence.
"Then, um… if you aren’t lost, sir... Would, would you maybe like some charcoal? I-I haven't sold the last of it yet, but if you like, I’ll give it to you free of charge!" Tanjirou stammered out.
But just after he had spoken, something nauseating stirred in his stomach. That same sickening smell from before, he realised, was drifting past. Only, it was even stronger now. The wind had changed again, and the stench hit him all at once, making him cover his nose.
It was like he had thought. It had been the smell of blood. And it didn’t seem to be coming from anywhere further away. No… it seemed almost like…
Originally, the man had been turned away at an angle that had hidden it, but now, as Tanjirou’s focus lowered from his face, he noticed something he hadn’t before in the dark. There was… what could only be a sword in its scabbard on that stranger’s hip, the hilt of it visible at his chest. A… A sword? In this day and age? They had been made illegal to carry before Tanjirou’s parents were born! Was this man a criminal? A sword, and the smell of blood... A suspicious person standing alone after dark... Couldn't that smell only mean...? Maybe it was a misunderstanding. Maybe there really was an animal carcass nearby, hidden in the fields. Or the strange man could just be hiding a serious injury under his clothing. He wanted to believe that, but...
Tanjirou’s pulse was starting to thump. This person had to be dangerous. Despite all other possible explanations being more rational, that was what his instincts were telling him. But it was as he started to back away that the man suddenly spoke to him, and he froze mid-step.
"Your family name. What is it?"
A deep, assaulting voice that left his head ringing. The words were spoken as a demand. Tanjirou, however, was only confused by them. The sense of hostility he felt hadn’t subsided.
"My family name is Kamado. I’m the eldest son of the Kamado family, Tanjirou,” he answered honestly and obediently, still keeping a cautious distance.
"...Kamado," the man echoed. He looked unsatisfied by the response.
What answer had he been expecting? Or, could this man have maybe mistaken Tanjirou for someone?
There was a long pause, then. Tanjirou counted four, five, six thumps pass, until the strange man narrowed his eyes at him, asking, "Those earrings… How have you come by them?"
His speech was oddly slow and measured. It almost made him sound far older than he looked.
Tanjirou frowned. His earrings? Did... this man think they were valuable?
Again, he answered honestly: "A keepsake from my father. I inherited them. They're not worth any m--"
"And your father?"
The man sharply cut in before Tanjirou could finish. Tanjirou was only growing more and more baffled now.
"Huh? I... They've been passed down since long before he was born. Why are you asking about them? I don't understand."
After that, the man didn’t ask any more questions. The sound of the howling wind merged with the quickening thumps in Tanjirou’s ears as he watched the man slowly close his eyes.
"...I see. In that case..."
When they flicked back open, four more emerged with them. Six fierce, blood-red eyes with yellow centers, gleaming like a cat’s in the darkness—every one locked onto Tanjirou in a terrifying spider’s glare!
A demon!
This person is a demon!
Tanjirou shouted out, dropped his basket, and ran as fast as his legs could carry him. He didn’t make it far. A thick, heavy hand grabbed his neck from behind, stopping him in place. He struggled, but couldn’t budge it – it only squeezed tighter around his throat with a terrifying force, sharp claws digging into his skin, and he heard himself choke as the strength in his limbs quickly left him.
A demon… A demon...
Like a warning siren, the word was repeating in Tanjirou’s head. Then, there was that slow voice again, speaking from behind him, through the blood rushing in his ears.
"Indeed, I am a demon... who has lived and consumed the flesh of human beings for centuries."
Tears of fear, of guilt, were beginning to sting Tanjirou's eyes. His grandmother and the man from the village had both been right, and he hadn't believed them. He thought of their warnings as silly fairytales meant to scare children into behaving! And now, he wouldn’t be coming home, and his family would have no idea what happened to him. There would be no trace left. He was about to be devoured, right here, and never seen again.
Tanjirou gasped in air when the hand on his neck suddenly loosened, collapsing to the ground on unsteady feet. The next thing he knew, that six-eyed glare was staring him down from above. A fist bunched in his collar and pulled it wide open, exposing his chest and shoulder. When he felt sharp claw-points on his bare skin and realised what was happening, he struggled and cried out.
"N-No--! Please, stop it!"
Another thick, rough hand clamped over his mouth, silencing him.
"Quiet,” the demon who had been disguised as a person growled. “Stop moving... or I'll slice your arms and legs off."
That was more than enough to make Tanjirou obey his words. He could feel the demon's breath on his neck, terror trembling through him as he tried to remain still.
It happened so quickly. Sharp teeth clamped into his shoulder, splitting open the skin. The demon paid Tanjirou’s scream no mind, nor his pain afterwards, only drawing back and observing the fresh wound with his six eyes. There was so much blood, more than Tanjirou had ever seen in his life, spilling everywhere. The demon’s nose scrunched as he drew closer to it. Then, something hot and wet dragged across his skin—a tongue, Tanjirou realised quickly through the pain, and yelped, shocked. He... was completely helpless. The demon was holding him down with a grip that felt like it would crush him, and there was no way to move, let alone escape.
I… I really am going to be eaten like this!
Tanjirou’s eyes, squeezed shut, slowly opened when the wet sensation left him. One of the clawed hands gripping him withdrew. The demon was murmuring something against his shoulder.
"...It's different. You... are not his blood..."
What… What was he talking about?
The demon pulled back, raising a sleeve to wipe the blood—Tanjirou’s blood—still dripping from his chin. Tanjirou let out a yelp as he was grabbed by the hair and pulled up into a half-raised position that forced him to support himself on his elbows.
"Who,” six eyes bored into his own two fiercely as the demon demanded, “exactly are you, child...?"
Tanjirou... had already told him. What else could he say? What answer did this demon want from him?
"Please... Please, let me go... I want... I want to go home..."
His cheeks were wet with tears, vision starting to blur. The pain from his wound and the loss of blood was making his head dizzy. All Tanjirou could hear was how wildly his heart was pounding. Some of his hair fell loose around his face from its ponytail as the fist gripping his hair yanked his head back. Then, the demon's other hand moved to the hilt of the sword at his waist.
Tanjirou felt, before he saw, the blade’s edge pressed against his throat. A thin, wet line of blood was bubbling underneath. There was a smell so sickening it made his stomach turn. A deep, thick, unpleasant emotion, like the bottom of a swamp. Could it be hatred?
Six eyes took in the sight reflected in them. The boy’s tears. His earrings. His forehead marking. His long hair in disarray.
Something in the demon’s scent changed. To Tanjirou, it had been so stifling he could hardly breathe it in, but now, it was as if some of that hostile aura had finally withdrawn. The sword lowered from his neck, returned to its scabbard, and his head hit the ground, released from its hold.
Tanjirou was getting dizzier and dizzier, but for just a moment, he thought it looked like those fierce eyes had softened. That that terrifying face had become beautiful again, for just a moment… That demon, despite his monstrous appearance, still beautiful...
When the boy’s consciousness left him, Upper One of the Twelve Kizuki closed his robe, gathered him in his arms, laying his head upon his breast, and began towards the village under the cover of darkness.
--
"Tanjirou..."
"Oniichan...!"
When Tanjirou’s consciousness returned, six worried faces were crowded around him. The second he opened his eyes, he got a chorus of Oniichan! from each sibling, the youngest of which were all crying. Nezuko was the closest, squeezing his hand as soon as he opened his eyes.
"Mom...? Nezuko...? Everyone..."
Tanjirou’s mother, kneeling beside his bed, was gently stroking his hair. "Tanjirou, we were all so worried... You were found unconscious near the village, and when we heard in the morning we brought you back home... They said you must have been attacked by a wild animal! You had a horrible bite..."
Reaching into his collar, Tanjirou felt that his shoulder was bandaged up.
His memories were hazy. A wild animal. That was right... he must have been attacked by a wild animal. Demons... Surely something like that didn't exist. It must have all been a bad dream.
But he would certainly always be more careful to return home before nightfall now.