Chapter Text
It should have been her. This is all Nezuko Kamado can think as she stands frozen, staring at the bloodied, mangled bodies of her dead family. The door is shattered, their bodies strewn across the floor, limbs missing, the smell of blood so overwhelming it makes her nose burn. Her father is crumpled against the wall; the wood splintered from the impact, brains smeared across the paneling behind him.
Nezuko is no stranger to death — her family had always depended on hunting for food — but this is different. She’s never seen gore like this. This wasn’t humane, it was slaughter. She doesn’t allow herself to cry. Instead, she moves between her family’s bodies, checking each one with trembling hands, desperately hoping to find any sign of life. She doesn’t check her father, she can’t bring herself to look that way again. Sibling after sibling, all she feels are cold, rigid bodies.
Nezuko gasps when she touches Tanjiro, her eldest brother. His body is still warm, a faint pulse present. He’s lying protectively over one of their younger brothers, as if trying to shield him in his final moments. Nezuko won’t let herself hope, won’t allow herself to think about it. She just picks him up, hoisting her brother onto her back, and starts sprinting down the mountain.
Tanjiro is heavy and Nezuko is struggling, but she won’t let another family member die. She can’t. Maybe, if she can make it to town fast enough, Tanjiro could live. She runs even faster through the thick snow. Her body is freezing and her muscles are seizing from the cold, but she refuses to rest for even a moment. Nezuko is determined to save her big brother, even if it kills her.
Suddenly Nezuko feels movement. Hope and fear simultaneously seize her heart as Tanjiro starts to awaken — but something is wrong. A low, feral growl escapes Tanjiro’s mouth, his nails dig into Nezuko’s shoulder and suddenly he yanks her backwards. The strength of his pull causes her to lose her footing, and she falls off a steep ledge several feet down the mountain.
She crashes down several feet onto a thick bed of snow, the impact sending shockwaves of pain through her body. Nezuko forces herself to stand, ignoring the ache in her bones as she looks around desperately for her brother. She sees Tanjiro stumbling through the woods, and for the first time she gets a chance to really look at him. His clothes are soaked in dried blood, his hair matted with it. It’s smeared across his face, staining the snow with each step he takes.
“Brother, you don’t need to be walking, I can carry you!” Nezuko cries as she rushes over to her bloodied brother.
He’s hunched over, looking at the ground, but when Nezuko grabs his shoulders and shakes him Tanjiro finally looks up at her. Nezuko’s breath catches in her throat, her hand flying to her mouth in shock — his eyes have changed. Tanjiro’s pupils are now vertical slits, just like a cat’s. Before Nezuko can even process the sight, her brother lets out a low, guttural growl, baring sharp fangs and lunging at her with terrifying speed. Nezuko thinks quickly, unsheathing her hatchet and using the handle to stop Tanjiro from biting her. It’s taking all of her strength to hold her brother back as he pushes them both onto the ground in a desperate, frenzied attempt to attack her.
At that moment, Nezuko thinks back to the old man who had offered her his hospitality last night, his name was Saburo. He’d seen Nezuko on her way back home and stopped her, insisting it was far too late at night for a young girl to be walking home alone. He asked her to stay the night so he could ensure her safety.
Nezuko knew the man well, he had been their neighbor for as long as she remembered and her mother had always spoken highly of him. She hesitated a moment before accepting his offer —i t was so cold and she couldn’t deny the exhaustion that was beginning to set in. Saburo had welcomed her inside, making her a bowl of soup and giving her a place to sleep near his fireplace. They talked late into the night, but one thing he said stood out to her now, the warning he had.
“Man-eating demons have always always prowled the land once it gets dark” Saburo had warned.
Nezuko couldn’t help thinking that was a bit silly. Afterall, if demons were real wouldn’t everyone have been eaten by them? When Nezuko asked him this, Saburo nodded solemnly, explaining that people would have been—if not for the demon hunters. He told her stories of great warriors who had been hunting demons for centuries, keeping the public safe from harm. Nezuko remembered her grandmother giving similar warnings, telling tales of demons as a warning to keep children from wandering after dark. She’d never truly believed them, dismissing them as folktales and ghost stories.
Tanjiro is a demon. It’s the only thing that explains the sharp fangs trying to bite through the handle of her hatchet, the long claws now desperately trying to rip into her skin, and the cat-like eyes her brother is now staring down at her with. Nezuko tries to think of any other excuse, anything else that could possibly explain the changes to her brother. How could her gold-hearted brother become a man-eating demon?
But as Nezuko focuses she can sense it—his scent has changed. It’s still him, but mixed with something new, something dark. Yet there’s no blood on his fac,e and he had been lying on Rokuta, shielding him. Tanjiro may be a demon, but he wasn’t the one who killed their family.
Nezuko loses her train of thought as Tanjiro’s body suddenly swells in size, his weight bearing down on her. She gasps, using even more force to hold the hatchet in his mouth and keep him from attacking. Nezuko tries desperately to think of what she can do. If her brother is truly a demon, then he’ll stop at nothing to kill her, to eat her. The thought sends a shudder through her body.
Nezuko has to make a choice here: join her family in death, or put a stop to her demon brother. She knows how to swing the hatchet, she’d seen her mother kill much larger animals with it — but can she bear to swing it at her own brother? For the first time since she found her family, tears run down Nezuko’s cheeks. She tries to choke back the sobs, but they force their way out, shaking her body. She has to do this, she has to live, her family wouldn’t want her to join them so soon.
“I’m sorry, big brother.” Nezuko sobs, her heart shattering as she braces to push him away and attack. Before she can move, Tanjiro suddenly stops his furious attacks. Tears cascade down his cheeks, falling down onto Nezuko’s face, mixing with her own.
As her brother cries, Nezuko notices a movement behind his body. A man is sprinting toward them- moving faster than she thought possible. She barely has time to register him, but she can see the sword in his hand, the determination in his face. Without a thought, Nezuko shoves Tanjiro off of her just as the man’s sword slices through the air where her brother's head had been moments before.
"Tanjiro!" Nezuko exclaims, her heart pounding as she scrambles toward her brother, now slumped against a tree. Her hatchet lies in the snow, forgotten in her panic.
“Oh my, you do realize he’s a demon, right?” The stranger asks, his voice unnaturally cheerful. Nezuko instantly dislikes the tone.
He’s already sheathed his sword and is now fanning himself with a sensu fan. It’s sharp and made of a light blue metal, engraved with something Nezuko can’t quite make out from this distance. He has long, blonde hair and he’s wearing a black and red haori over some sort of uniform — but what stands out most are his eyes. They look like rainbows.
“He’s my brother, my eldest brother! He would never hurt anyone!” Nezuko shouts in response, fists clenching in anger.
The man hasn’t stopped smiling, that bothers Nezuko. He doesn't even respond—just rolls his eyes and suddenly lunges forward. She doesn’t even get a moment to think. Nezuko blinks, and suddenly he’s right back where he was. Only now he has Tanjiro in his grasp.
“Let him go!” Nezuko’s voice cracks as she screams, her entire body trembling. The stranger tilts his head, a small frown on his lips.
“Save him? Oh little one…Do you really think he can be saved?” His tone is light, almost pitying, but there’s an edge to it that makes Nezuko’s stomach twist.
“He can!” she shouts, her hands curling into fists. “Tanjiro would never hurt anyone! I don’t care what you think—he’s not a monster!” The man sighs, wiping away a single tear that slides down his cheek.
“Ah, what a tragic sight,” his voice wavers for a moment, as if he’s genuinely moved, “It must be so hard. Losing your family, watching your brother turn into…this. I’m so sorry, little one.” The man cries, a few tears falling down his cheeks, but there’s not even a hint of sorrow coming off the young man—he’s just pretending. Nezuko’s jaw tightens, her teeth clenched in frustration.
“Stop pretending to care. You don’t know anything about him—or me!” The stranger blinks, his cheerful facade cracking ever so slightly. His lips twitch into a faint smile, tinged with frustration.
“What a cruel thing to say! I care very much. I care about protecting people—young girls like you, for example—from demons. That’s my duty,” he runs his sensu fan across Tanjiro’s jaw, pulling a low snarl from him, “And this thing? It’s not your brother, not anymore. Just another demon to be slain.”
“You’re wrong!” Nezuko yells, stepping forward despite her fear, “He’s still my brother! Tanjiro would never hurt anyone—I’m sure of it! I’ll find a way to save him!” The man chuckles softly, though it doesn’t reach his eyes.
“Demons can’t be saved, child. Least of all by a little girl like you,” The stranger’s gaze sharpens, a flicker of something real slipping through his mask, “Why else do you think the rest of your family is dead?”
The words hit Nezuko like a blade to the chest. Her breath catches, and for a heartbeat, she falters. Her vision blurs with tears again, but this time, the overwhelming sorrow is overtaken by a fiery rage.
“You don’t know anything about us!” she screams, her voice shaking with fury. “You weren’t there! Tanjiro isn’t like other demons—he’s different!” The stranger holds her gaze for a long while. His mask has fallen, leaving him with narrowed eyes and an annoyed frown.
“He’s not.” The man murmurs simply, and before Nezuko can respond, the rainbow-eyed man raises his sensu fan, slashing Tanjiro with it.
“Stop it!” Nezuko cries out desperately.
She has to act quickly if she wants to save her brother. The man is clearly incredibly skilled, faster and stronger than Nezuko could ever hope to be. She can’t take him one-on-one, her only hope it to trick him. Using the trees to hide her movement, Nezuko grabs a few decently sized rocks and begins to throw them at the blonde man. With unfeasible speed, he unsheaths his sword, striking the rocks away with ease. The scent of frustration is rolling off the man now, and that’s exactly what she wanted.
While the man is occupied with the barrage of rocks, Nezuko swiftly grabs her hatchet from where it had been lying in the snow. She takes a deep breath, preparing for her move. Nezuko has no idea if this will work, but it’s her only hope. Using a large tree as cover, she hurls a large rock at the same time as her hatchet- masking her true attack plan. Then she charges the man, feigning as though she’s still armed. He’ll hurt her- knock her out at the very least- Nezuko knows this. But maybe, just maybe, her hatchet will land the blow she can’t. At the very least it could distract him long enough for Tanjiro to escape. The blonde clicks his tongue at her in annoyance. His sword flashes in a blur, the base of the hilt slamming into Nezuko’s head with brutal force. She feels her world tilt as darkness takes over, and she collapses into the snow.
~
Douma looks down at the young girl, a disappointed frown forming on his lips. How foolish, he thinks, to believe she could strike down someone so much stronger. He gazes at her unconscious body for a moment before it hits him. She doesn’t have the hatchet. With a sharp intake of breath, Douma's eyes dart upward just in time to see the hatchet flying toward his head. He swiftly tilts his head to the side, narrowly dodging the weapon as it embeds itself into the tree. Douma feels a twinge of admiration as he pieces together her plan. The girl knew she couldn’t beat him one-on-one, so she risked her own life on the hope she could land a blow after being knocked out.
As Douma is distracted with his thoughts, the demon in his grasp is able to break free. Douma clenches his teeth in frustration- this is a fresh demon and a young girl, how had he not handled them already? As the demon lunges towards the girl, a slight panic pulses through Douma. It’s going to devour her. But as he prepares to strike, he falters. The demon isn’t attacking. Instead it has positioned itself in front of her protectively, shielding the girl from him. She’s bleeding, the demon must be able to smell it, and it clearly transformed recently. There’s no doubt, it’s starving. Yet it does not attack. Douma has seen plenty of people turn into demons. Their families always insist that it won’t attack them- it always does. A starving demon will eat anyone; mother, father, sister, wife, husband, it doesn’t matter. But as Douma stands before the two, something feels different. The demon’s behavior defies everything he’s seen before. Could it be possible? Could they be different?
Just as the demon lunges at him, Douma makes his decision.