Chapter Text
Chapter One
The scent of sizzling yakitori filled the air as the newly rebuilt Swordsmith Village bustled with life. Lanterns glowed warmly against the autumn twilight, their golden light flickering across the faces of the gathered swordsmithes and warriors. Laughter and the crackling sound of grilling food blended into a lively symphony, signaling a well-earned moment of respite.
The swordsmiths, exhausted but content, took pride in the success of their move to the new hidden village. Their hard work had paid off and the transition had been completed without any major incidents. A sense of relief and triumph filled the air, as they reflected on the harrowing battle that had necessitated this relocation. The two Hashira, Tokito Muichiro and Kanroji Mitsuri, along with warriors Kamado Tanjiro, Shinazugawa Genya, and Tanjiro’s demon sister Nezuko, had fought valiantly to protect the village, minimizing the damage and ensuring its survival against the demons. Their efforts had not gone unnoticed and as a token of gratitude, the head of the Swordsmith Village had invited them all for a grand celebration.
For some reason, Tanjiro’s friends Zenitsu and Inosuke had managed to tag along, excited as they took in the feast before them. Now, all of them were gathered in the grand dining hall of the new guest house, where a banquet had been laid out in front of them. The swordsmiths had ensured there was enough food for everyone, taking special consideration of Mitsuri’s legendary appetite. Plates of yakitori, steaming yakisoba, and freshly prepared okonomiyaki filled the tables, the rich aromas blending into an irresistible invitation.
Inosuke was completely engrossed in his food, devouring each bite with the same fierce determination he showed in battle. Zenitsu, meanwhile, was making every effort to catch Nezuko’s attention, his desperate attempts ranging from exaggerated gestures to poetic compliments. Nezuko, however, was far too delighted to be reunited with her beloved Kanroji Mitsuri. Her excitement bubbled over as she jumped around Mitsuri, eagerly engaging her and having her hair braided into the same style as the Love Hashira’s.
Genya, sitting slightly apart, was clearly flustered by Mitsuri’s presence. He chewed absentmindedly on his already empty yakitori stick, his eyes fixed on Nezuko and Mitsuri as he observed their interaction. Though he said nothing, his stiff posture and the way he avoided direct eye contact spoke volumes.
Tanjiro, savoring his plate of yakisoba, watched his sister play with Mitsuri with a warm smile. Seeing Nezuko forming simple sentences to communicate filled him with immense pride and joy. Though she was still a demon, this small but significant development gave him hope—a hope that, one day, she might return to being human again.
Beside him, Muichiro remained silent, listening intently as Kotetsu animatedly described the repairs on the Yoriichi Type Zero. The boy’s excitement shone through as he explained, “It’s almost completely fixed now! And since the face of the doll was broken anyway, I’m thinking of replacing it with yours, Tokito-san!“ His eyes lit up with enthusiasm before he quickly added, „And then, as a final touch, I want to add your ridiculously long seaweed h—sorry, Tokito-san, I mean your long black hair with cyan tips!”
Even though Muichiro wasn’t too fond of the idea, he didn’t want to discourage Kotetsu. He smiled at the boy’s words, making sure his reaction wouldn’t dampen Kotetsu’s enthusiasm. „Really? I’m looking forward to it,” he said softly, his tone carrying an unusual gentleness.
Tanjiro couldn’t help but observe the change in their dynamic. Something had shifted between Muichiro and Kotetsu, though he wasn’t entirely sure what. All he knew was that Muichiro had apparently saved Kotetsu and Kanamori from Upper Moon Five while Tanjiro himself was locked in battle with Upper Moon Four. Since then, Kotetsu had been attached to Muichiro all evening, an unspoken bond forming between them.
At the same time, Tanjiro couldn’t shake the feeling that Muichiro had been staying close to himself throughout the entire day. Though they hadn’t spoken much, their eyes met often, and each time, there was something in Muichiro’s gaze—something soft, warm, and completely different from how he had been before their harrowing battles against the Upper Moons.
When Kotetsu noticed the growing pile of empty plates around Mitsuri, his eyes widened in alarm before he hurriedly rushed over. „Ah, I'll get some more food for everyone!“ he exclaimed, hastily gathering as many plates as he could carry before heading toward the kitchen. His departure left Tanjiro and Muichiro alone, the lively chatter of the hall fading slightly as an awkward silence settled between them.
Muichiro's gaze lingered for a moment on Kotetsu’s retreating figure before shifting back to the table. Just as Tanjiro was about to speak to break the silence, Muichiro unexpectedly spoke first. „Tanjiro, how is your injury? You only recovered recently, right? I heard you gave Tomioka-san a hard time even with a broken leg.“
Tanjiro turned slightly red at the comment, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. „Ehehe... I'm fine now. I can move my leg freely, and I'm all ready to go back on missions. But it took me a while to recover.“ He then looked at Muichiro with admiration. „Tokito-kun is amazing. I heard you recovered enough to leave the Butterfly Mansion in just two days? Are you fine now? I heard you were severely poisoned…“
Muichiro didn’t answer right away. Instead, his eyes drifted downward to Tanjiro’s legs, which were bent behind him in a kneeling position, though not fully in seiza. His expression remained unreadable as he observed Tanjiro in silence. Finally, after a brief pause, he spoke. „...Stretch your leg. You still shouldn't sit like this, bent over for hours, Tanjiro.“
Tanjiro blinked at the sudden remark but obediently adjusted his posture, stretching his leg out as Muichiro advised. Only once he had done so did Muichiro continue. „I'm fine. My body is used to all kinds of injuries, so a bit of poison won't knock me out for too long. And also, Kocho-san’s antidote worked.“
His voice was calm, matter-of-fact, but there was a faint trace of loneliness behind his words as if he were carrying a weight within him. Tanjiro knew that Muichiro had lost his memories before and had somehow regained them, though he didn’t know the details. He wasn’t sure if he was in the position to bring up the topic, so he remained silent, simply nodding in response. The lively atmosphere of the dining hall continued around them, the sounds of clinking dishes and cheerful conversation filling the space once more.
Just then, Nezuko came running toward them. Tanjiro noticed her approach and instinctively opened his arms to welcome her as always, expecting her to jump into his embrace. However, to his complete surprise, Nezuko ignored him entirely and instead leaped onto Muichiro’s back, wrapping her small arms around him in a sudden, playful hug. She giggled as she grabbed at his long hair, tugging at the soft strands curiously.
„Ahh, Nezuko!! Stop it! Aaah ... I'm sorry, Tokito-kun!!“ Tanjiro panicked, flailing slightly in embarrassment at his sister’s antics.
Muichiro froze for a moment at the unexpected closeness, his body momentarily stiff. However, he quickly relaxed, offering Tanjiro a small smile. „Don’t worry about it, Tanjiro,“ he said calmly, his tone as light as ever.
Nezuko, still playing with Muichiro’s hair, attempted to form his name carefully. „Mu…i…chi…ro…kun“ she spoke slowly, each syllable deliberate. Tanjiro immediately scolded her lightly. „Nezuko! It’s Tokito-san, right? Tokito-san!” He looked at Muichiro with an apologetic expression, as if making up for his sister’s casual way of addressing a Hashira.
Before Tanjiro could chastise her further, Muichiro gently shook his head. „It’s okay, Tanjiro. I don’t mind.“
Muichiro looked at Tanjiro and continued, „And besides that,“ a little grin showed on Muichiro's face and a teasing tone entered his voice, „Tanjiro, you're not exactly using polite language toward me, right?“
Tanjiro's face flushed red. „Ahh, I'm sorry, Tokito-kun, I didn’t mean to, I mean... I will…“ but he was quickly interrupted by Muichiro.
„I don’t mind, Tanjiro, no need to change suddenly.“
Tanjiro studied Muichiro’s face, leaving him kind of speechless upon seeing this playful and teasing side of Muichiro. But indeed, Tanjiro’s nose didn’t even pick up the faintest smell of malice in his words.
At that moment, Kanroji joined them, her usual warm smile brightening the air around them. „I think Nezuko-Chan likes Muichiro-kun’s hair!“ she commented cheerfully, watching the little demon girl’s fascination with amusement.
Nezuko continued to run her fingers through Muichiro’s long strands, suddenly holding up her own neatly braided hair before pointing at Kanroji’s. „Matching…hair“ she managed to say with a determined expression.
Tanjiro, recognizing his sister’s intent, finally understood. „Nezuko, you want matching hair with Tokito-kun too? He’s a boy, you can’t braid his hair, and…“
Before he could finish his sentence, Muichiro quickly cut him off. „It’s okay.“ He turned slightly, his voice gentle as he addressed Nezuko directly. „Nezuko-chan, will you braid my hair for me?“
Nezuko’s face lit up with delight, and she eagerly began weaving sections of Muichiro’s long, silky hair into uneven braids, her small fingers working with intense concentration. Muichiro sat still, allowing her to do as she pleased, while Tanjiro watched in astonishment. He had seen Muichiro as stoic and distant before, his expression often unreadable. And yet, here he was, speaking so gently, treating Nezuko with such kindness and patience.
Tanjiro couldn’t help but voice his thoughts aloud, his usual bright, sincere smile appearing. „Tokito-kun, you’ve changed so much.“
Muichiro turned toward him, caught off guard by that radiant expression. Tanjiro’s warmth felt overwhelming for a brief second, and the words echoed in his mind—words Tanjiro had once said to him before: „If you do something for others, it will come back to you one day.“ Those very words had been the key that unlocked his lost memories of his family—painful, yet important. It was those memories that had fueled his determination, that had given him the strength to keep fighting. And in the battle against Gyokko, it had been Tanjiro’s words that had saved him. Unmistakably, he would have died otherwise.
Looking into Tanjiro’s eyes, Muichiro suddenly felt his cheeks growing warm, a deep flush creeping up his face. Realizing this, he quickly averted his gaze, turning his attention back to Nezuko as she continued her work, pretending to be fully absorbed in watching her tiny hands move. He wasn’t sure why, but he couldn’t meet Tanjiro’s eyes just then.
When Nezuko finished, she turned back to Kanroji once more, her face glowing with pride as she held up Muichiro's hair, now neatly braided into two delicate plaits. Mitsuri beamed, admiring the work, while Muichiro absentmindedly tugged at his new braids, not particularly concerned with their neatness. He had never been one to care much about his appearance—his hair had always been long, a part of him since childhood. It was a convenience, especially with his Mist Breathing technique. His appearance was irrelevant as long as he could fight demons effectively.
But his thoughts kept drifting to Tanjiro. He wasn’t sure why he felt so flustered when he thought about him, or even why he’d been following Tanjiro around all evening, his eyes lingering on him more often than he’d care to admit. There had been so much he wanted to say when he first received the invitation to the celebration and learned Tanjiro would be there too. He had wanted to thank Tanjiro properly, express his gratitude for the words Tanjiro had spoken to him, even though Tanjiro had no idea how deeply they had affected him. Yet, here he was, unable to find the right moment to speak up.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to; he had been looking forward to the chance to speak to Tanjiro, but every time he thought about it, something held him back. And then... Tanjiro’s smile. It was the same gentle smile he always had, but this time, it made something flutter in his chest in a way Muichiro didn’t fully understand. Why did he feel like this? What was wrong with him?
Tanjiro, ever the center of attention, seemed to effortlessly win the affection of everyone around him. It was one of the things Muichiro had noticed from the start. His kindness, his sincerity—it was magnetic.
Why did he have to bring his friends with him though?
Muichiro wasn’t sure what to call the feeling that stirred inside him. He wasn’t fully aware of the light jealousy creeping in, and even if he was, he wouldn’t want to admit it. But he just wanted to be the one around Tanjiro—to be the one who could carelessly speak to him, who could stand beside him, laughing like that. And he certainly wouldn’t call Tanjiro weird names like some others did.
Inosuke, that boar-headed guy, had been particularly loud and rude to Tanjiro all evening, calling him strange names and provoking him in ways that Muichiro found unsettling. He had wanted to step in, to say something, but Tanjiro was handling it with his usual grace, giving the boar-headed guy nothing but his warm smile. It was clear that Tanjiro didn’t mind, even if the exchange was getting louder and more heated.
Muichiro sighed. He found himself staring at Tanjiro for far too long, lost in thoughts he couldn’t shake off. Suddenly, Tanjiro turned, his gaze meeting Muichiro's for a brief moment before his smile grew even warmer. Caught off guard, Muichiro’s face flushed, and he quickly looked away. His heart raced. What was he doing? Why was he acting like this?
Kotetsu still hadn’t returned, and Nezuko had already gone back to playing with Kanroji. With a quiet excuse, Muichiro slipped away from the crowd, stepping outside into the cool night air. He needed to clear his head, away from all the noise, away from his thoughts that were becoming far too tangled.
Even though Tanjiro was deep in a heated discussion with Inosuke about the "proper" way to eat okonomiyaki—especially after the chaotic mess Inosuke had made of the dish—he couldn't help but notice something else. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Muichiro slip away from the dining hall, retreating from the lively atmosphere of the celebration. The sight was subtle, almost unnoticed by most, but Tanjiro’s keen sense had picked it up.
Muichiro had always been a figure of quiet mystery, like the mist that his breathing technique embodied. But recently, Tanjiro had sensed something shift in him. The indifference that Muichiro used to carry, that sense of distance from everyone, had started to change. There was a change in his eyes—warmer than before, yet still guarded, allowing only a glimpse of what lay beneath. As Tanjiro watched him retreat, a strange feeling settled in his chest. Muichiro’s movements, usually fluid and effortless, seemed just a fraction slower, his shoulders carrying a weight that hadn’t been there before.
A quiet sorrow clung to him, lingering in his every step. It wasn’t the kind of sadness that showed openly, nor one that could be eased with a few words. It was deeper, long buried, and for some reason, it tugged at Tanjiro’s heart more than he expected.
Tanjiro’s sharp nose picked up on it—a subtle trace of loneliness lingering in the air. It was a scent he had never noticed around Muichiro before. It was as if the air around him had shifted, a slight crack in the wall that usually kept him so composed. The Mist Hashira, who had always seemed distant and solitary, now carried a hint of vulnerability, a subtle change that suggested he had let his guard down just a little.
Tanjiro felt a stirring in his chest, an instinctive pull to reach out to Muichiro. It wasn’t like him to ignore someone in need, even if that need was unspoken. His eyes followed Muichiro’s retreating figure, wondering why he felt this sudden urge to go after him. He had seen the way Muichiro had been acting differently—how he had been quietly watching him throughout the evening, the way he seemed to shy away when their eyes met. There was something unspoken there, something Tanjiro wanted to understand.
„Excuse me, Inosuke,“ Tanjiro said as he gently excused himself from the conversation. Inosuke grumbled in response but didn’t stop him. Tanjiro’s focus was already set. He stood up, his eyes never leaving Muichiro’s back, and made his way toward the door.
He wasn’t sure what exactly was going on, or what he would say when he caught up to Muichiro, but something inside him told him he needed to check on him. The faint sadness that Tanjiro sensed was like a silent call, urging him forward.
Tanjiro found Muichiro almost immediately, just outside the entrance of the building, leaning against a wooden pillar. The cool night air had settled over the village, carrying the scents of food and the distant echoes of laughter from inside. Muichiro stood still, his gaze lost in the darkness beyond, his long hair shifting slightly with the evening breeze.
As Tanjiro watched him from behind, an understanding settled within him. Despite Muichiro’s immense strength, his reputation as a prodigy, and his esteemed title as a Hashira, at his core, he was still just a boy—a boy even younger than Tanjiro himself. Without the weight of his title, without the way others spoke of him with awe and reverence, he was no different from any other boy his age. No different from Tanjiro’s younger siblings.
Tanjiro recalled the conversations he had with his comrades during his time at the Butterfly Mansion. Some of them had spoken of Muichiro in hushed tones, describing him as cold, terrifying, and utterly unapproachable. They had joked—half-seriously—that it was best to become invisible when he was around, as if the worst possible fate was to be noticed by him. To them, Muichiro had been a mystery wrapped in a shell, a genius with little care for anything beyond his own path.
But standing here now, watching Muichiro’s lonely figure in the night, Tanjiro couldn’t reconcile those words with the boy in front of him. There was no cold, terrifying force before him—only someone quietly enveloped in loneliness.
Tanjiro felt an aching sadness rise in his chest. Did no one try to understand him? Had Tokito-kun spent all this time believing that no one truly saw him for who he was? The thought pained Tanjiro deeply.
Taking a slow step forward, careful not to startle him, Tanjiro spoke gently.
“Tokito-kun, it’s gotten cooler, hasn’t it? It really feels like summer has ended.”
His voice was warm, carrying no expectation, no pressure—just an invitation to talk if Muichiro wanted to.
Muichiro turned his head in surprise at the sound of Tanjiro’s soft voice. He was a Hashira—not just any Hashira, but the one most often said to have the sharpest senses. Noticing a presence faster than anyone else was second nature to him. Of course, he had sensed someone stepping outside, but it wasn’t a demon, so he hadn’t given it any thought. Most of the time, when he did look at people, they would become startled and avert their eyes in fear or discomfort. It was something he had grown used to.
But by no means had he expected it to be Tanjiro, and even less expected Tanjiro to suddenly start a light conversation with him. Just moments ago, Tanjiro had been at the center of the celebration, surrounded by laughter, warmth, and his many friends. Why had he come out here? What was he doing, leaving that lively atmosphere just to stand in the cold with him?
„Tanjiro…“ Muichiro murmured, unsure of what else to say.
Tanjiro stopped beside and looked at him with that signature expression—gentle, open, and filled with sincerity.
„Tokito-kun, do you like autumn?”
Muichiro blinked. Why is he asking that? The question seemed so random, but for some reason, it didn’t feel unnatural coming from Tanjiro. After a brief pause, he answered anyway.
„…Hmm. I think I like it more than summer.”
Tanjiro nodded, his voice light as he responded, „Me too. Or at least, every time autumn comes, I think that way. I always feel relieved when the heat finally fades. But once winter arrives… I end up missing summer again.”
Muichiro listened silently, unsure where this conversation was going, but he didn’t mind it. It was oddly comforting about just standing there, listening to Tanjiro talk.
Then, Tanjiro’s voice softened. „…and now, I particularly dislike winter.”
Muichiro turned his head slightly, sensing a shift in the atmosphere.
„My family was killed when it was snowing heavily.”
Muichiro’s eyes widened. He hadn’t expected Tanjiro to suddenly bring up something so personal, so painful. „Tanjiro…” he said, his voice even quieter.
But to his surprise, Tanjiro turned to him with a small, slightly sad smile. It wasn’t a smile that masked pain—it was one that acknowledged it, that carried the weight of his past yet refused to be consumed by it.
„…But I still have Nezuko,” Tanjiro continued. „And even though I miss my family, I’m glad I was able to meet everyone since then.”
Muichiro felt something tighten in his chest.
It must have been so painful, losing everything in a single night, left only with the burden of survival and a sister turned into a demon. And yet, Tanjiro still carried warmth in his heart, still reached out to others with kindness. Unlike Muichiro himself, who had forgotten about his family—his brother’s sacrifices—and had become indifferent and cold toward his surroundings, distancing himself from the world behind an impenetrable wall.
“…It must have been hard for you and Nezuko, right?” Muichiro said softly.
Muichiro hadn’t heard the full details of Tanjiro’s past before. He had only known what little had been explained to him after the Hashira trial, when Oyakata-sama had spoken about Tanjiro’s circumstances. He had learned then that Tanjiro had lost his entire family to Kibutsuji Muzan, and that his younger sister, Nezuko, had been turned into a demon. However, unlike other demons, she had miraculously kept her sanity and never attacked humans.
At the time, it had been almost unbelievable. A demon that resisted its instincts? A boy who would defy everything—even the Hashira—just to protect her? It sounded absurd. And yet… now, Muichiro knew better.
Nezuko had not only refrained from harming humans—she had fought alongside them. She had played a crucial role in defeating Upper Moons Six and Four, proving herself in battle in ways no one could have imagined. She had stood side by side with demon slayers, risking her life just as they did.
Muichiro lowered his gaze slightly, his thoughts drifting.
And… now that he thought about it, now that he remembered his own brother, he could imagine all too well the pain Tanjiro must have felt. The overwhelming loss, the suffocating grief, and the desperate, unrelenting need to protect the only family he had left.
Yuichiro had done the same for him—sacrificing everything, trying to shield him from a world too cruel. And if Muichiro had the chance… if he could turn back time… he would have done the same for Yuichiro.
Without realizing it, his fingers curled slightly, an ache settling deep in his chest. He understood now. More than he ever had before.
Tanjiro noticed the silence that followed, the way Muichiro's gaze had drifted downward, his expression lost in thought. Something weighed on him, something unspoken yet heavy.
For a moment, Tanjiro hesitated. He wondered if it would be okay to ask about Muichiro’s family, about his past. He had a feeling there was more behind that distant look, behind the emotions Muichiro kept so carefully contained. But before Tanjiro could find the right words, Muichiro suddenly spoke.
„Tanjiro… I… I’m sorry.”
Tanjiro blinked in surprise, his breath stilling as Muichiro continued, his gaze still lowered, avoiding Tanjiro’s eyes.
„I know I was a horrible person,” Muichiro said with a steady but strained voice, as if forcing himself to push the words out. „I hit you with stones… I didn’t care if you or Nezuko were killed… I knocked you unconscious… I’m really sorry.”
Muichiro clenched his fists slightly at his sides. He had finally said it. There was no turning back now.
„I can’t even say that I didn’t mean to, because at that time… I truly didn’t care,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. „But… you still helped me. Your words helped me regain my precious memories again.” He exhaled softly, as if releasing something that had been buried deep inside him for too long. „Thank you…”
A silence followed.
Muichiro braced himself. He didn’t dare look up, didn’t dare meet Tanjiro’s eyes. He must hate me, he thought. How could he not?
Tanjiro had every right to despise him after what he had done. And yet, even knowing that, Muichiro had still wanted to say it—to acknowledge the pain he had caused, to apologize properly, even if it changed nothing.
At the same time, another realization crept into his mind, startling him. He didn’t care what others thought of him, had never cared for their opinions or judgments. But with Tanjiro it was different. The thought of Tanjiro disliking him, of looking at him with anything less than the kindness he always carried, was unbearable. He didn’t understand why, but the idea of losing whatever fragile connection they had only made the weight in his chest grow heavier.
The silence stretched on, and Muichiro could only wait, heart pounding, for Tanjiro’s response.
What followed was not what Muichiro had expected.
Instead of rejection, instead of anger or disgust, he felt a warm hand land gently on his head, patting him lightly. The touch was soft and reassuring. Muichiro stiffened for a moment, unprepared for the unexpected warmth. He had never known—never realized until now—that he had been craving a touch that gentle. Not just from anyone, but from Tanjiro specifically.
Still, he couldn’t bring himself to look up. He wasn’t sure he wanted to see the expression Tanjiro was wearing. Was it pity? Was it forced kindness? Did he despise him deep down? Even if Tanjiro was smiling, was it just out of obligation?
But then Tanjiro’s voice, warm and steady, broke through the silence.
„Tokito-kun, don’t be like this. I never took it to heart.”
Muichiro’s breath caught slightly.
„Besides, anyone would have reacted that way, right? Seeing me, carrying a demon—just because she was my sister? So many of us have lost our families to demons. We’ve seen our loved ones turn into demons and then… been forced to kill them ourselves.”
Tanjiro’s voice was soft, but there was a deep sorrow beneath his words, an understanding forged from pain.
„Nezuko is a miracle,” he continued. „But I can’t blame anyone for not accepting her at first. You had your reasons. You have your own burdens, your own responsibilities, right?”
Muichiro’s fingers twitched slightly.
„And also, Tokito-kun…” Tanjiro’s voice softened even more, as if trying to reach through the walls Muichiro had built around himself.
„I never sensed any malice from you. I know you didn’t mean it.”
The words hit Muichiro deeper than he expected.
„So don’t worry about it, okay? And…” Tanjiro hesitated for a brief moment before continuing, „the current Tokito-kun standing in front of me is really kind. I like it.”
He couldn’t stop himself from looking up this time, his wide teal eyes locking onto Tanjiro’s gentle red ones. Tanjiro was smiling, and it wasn’t just any smile—it was genuine, warm, and kind.
It was beautiful.
Muichiro had never really paid attention to people’s faces, never found himself drawn to someone’s gaze before, but for some reason, he thought Tanjiro’s eyes were truly beautiful. A silent thought drifted through his mind before he could stop it. It’s a bit different from father’s eyes… So warm…
Tanjiro’s hand gently moved from the top of Muichiro’s head down to the end of his hair. His fingers carefully worked through the tangled braids Nezuko had made earlier, which had already become messy over time. He began to undo them slowly, each movement deliberate as he tried not to hurt Muichiro. Once the braids were undone, Tanjiro took extra care to comb through the long strands using his fingers to straighten them out and give them some order.
„I think this suits you better than the braids,” Tanjiro said with a gentle smile, his tone light but sincere.
Then, suddenly, Muichiro felt heat rising to his cheeks. Flustered and unable to bear Tanjiro’s gaze and gentle touch any longer, he took a step back, shaking his head slightly as if to clear his thoughts. He quickly freed his head from Tanjiro’s touch.
„…You forgive me?” he murmured, almost too quietly to be heard.
„Of course!” Tanjiro beamed, as if the answer had been obvious all along. „I want to become friends with Tokito-kun!”
Muichiro’s mind went blank. Had he heard that right? A Hashira was not someone ordinary slayers would casually befriend. The gap in rank was too vast. He had always been treated with reverence or fear, never familiarity.
What am I saying?! Tanjiro suddenly realized, flustered. He had just asked a Hashira to be his friend—so bluntly, so straightforwardly. Sometimes, he had to remind himself that despite Muichiro being younger than him and having a delicate appearance, he was still a Hashira—someone far beyond Tanjiro’s league and reach.
„Ah—Tokito-kun, I’m sorry! I know I’m not really in a position to say that… I mean, I—” Tanjiro stumbled over his words, waving his hands in embarrassment.
Muichiro, who had been motionless just moments ago, suddenly stirred. Then, to Tanjiro’s utter surprise, he smiled—a bright, unguarded, genuine smile. It was a rare sight, so full of light that for a moment, Tanjiro almost forgot to breathe.
If someone had told him before that the mist Hashira, Tokito Muichiro—who had once looked at him with indifference and scorn—was capable of a smile like this, Tanjiro would have never believed it. And yet, here it was. Tanjiro felt his heart skip a beat.
Then, in a voice so soft it was almost inaudible, Muichiro spoke. “Tanjiro… I want to be your friend.”
Now it was Tanjiro’s turn to be stunned. He could only stare, his mind struggling to catch up to what had just happened.
Just when both boys were staring at each other in the eyes, kind of at a loss for words, they heard the alarmed call of their crows.
„Everyone, gather inside! Gather inside!! Mission! Mission!!“ the crows cried out.
Immediately, both Tanjiro and Muichiro snapped back into reality. Alarmed, they quickly focused on their surroundings again, the light connection building between them broken in an instant. They didn’t waste another second, without hesitation, they turned and rushed inside.
A mission meant one thing: a demon attack. The worst-case scenario immediately ran through Tanjiro’s mind—had the location of the Swordsmith Village been found again?
The second they stepped into the dining hall, the lively party atmosphere was gone. The energy had shifted in an instant. Mitsuri, who had been playing with Nezuko, now held her sword tightly, her usual warm expression replaced with sharp focus. Genya straightened up, his jaw clenched in anticipation. Zenitsu, though visibly shaking, stood stiffly, his fists clenched. Inosuke was unusually still.
Everyone understood. A mission alert meant there was no room for hesitation.
Muichiro and Tanjiro stood near the entrance, tensely waiting for the full announcement. The crows circled overhead, their cries urgent. Finally, one of them cawed out the details.
„Northwest! Northwest! Demon attack spotted by fellow Demon Slayers!! High chance of 12 Kizuki! High chance of 12 Kizuki! Mist Hashira Tokito Muichiro! Shinazugawa Genya! Go to the Northwest! Go to the Northwest!!!“
Muichiro’s grip on his sword tightened. There was no hesitation in his movements—he was already turning to leave. But just as he took a step forward, Tanjiro reached out and grabbed his wrist.
„I'm going too!“ Tanjiro said firmly. „It’s a strong demon, maybe even an Upper Moon!“
But the crows weren’t finished yet.
„Kamado Tanjiro! Kamado Tanjiro! Southeast!! Go to the Southeast! A demon is attacking civilians! Civilians! Kamado Tanjiro! Southeast!!“
Tanjiro froze. A separate mission?
Even as his mind processed the new information, his grip on Muichiro’s wrist remained firm. He didn’t want to let go. Why was he being sent somewhere else? If there was a high possibility of an Upper Moon in the Northwest, he needed to be there. He needed to help Muichiro and Genya.
But the crows kept going.
„Love Hashira Kanroji Mitsuri! Agatsuma Zenitsu! Hashibira Inosuke!! Stay at the Swordsmith Village and protect the village! Protect the village!!“
And finally, it clicked.
Two demon attacks—one in the Northwest, one in the Southeast.
The wordsmith village had only recently been rebuilt, still vulnerable after the devastation it had endured. The demons might have already discovered its new location. If so, these attacks could be a calculated move to lure out the stronger warriors, especially the Hashira. They couldn’t afford to let their guard down. Every corner could be a potential threat, and the enemy might be hiding, waiting for the right moment to strike.
Still, one question burned in Tanjiro’s mind.
Why was he being sent to a seemingly weaker demon attack while Muichiro and Genya were sent to face a potential Upper Moon? He was about to argue, but Muichiro was already one step ahead.
Tanjiro’s sudden grip on Muichiro’s wrist caught Muichiro by surprise. The warmth of Tanjiro’s hand spread through his arm, a new sensation for Muichiro that made him feel lighter, almost bubbly, a feeling he wasn’t used to. He quickly gathered his thoughts, reminding himself that this wasn’t the time to dwell on such emotions.
„Tanjiro, you just recovered,“ Muichiro said calmly. „You’re not in shape to face another Upper Moon.“ His eyes met Tanjiro’s without hesitation. „Please, go and help the civilians. With your abilities, you’ll be able to do it.“
Tanjiro remained silent, his expression tense. Instead of letting go, his grip on Muichiro’s wrist only tightened. He didn’t want to leave them. Even if he was still recovering, the thought of Muichiro and Genya facing a potentially powerful demon alone unsettled him. His instincts screamed at him to stay, to fight alongside them, to make sure they would be okay.
Muichiro offered him a small, reassuring smile. „Don’t worry about us.”
Tanjiro stared at him.
Even in this tense moment, he couldn’t help but admire Muichiro’s ability to grasp the entire situation in an instant. His mind worked so fast, his judgment clear and precise, as if he could see through every possibility at once. It was no wonder he was a prodigy, a Hashira at such a young age.
Hesitantly, he let go of Muichiro’s wrist.
Muichiro turned to Genya and gave a quick nod. „Let’s go.“ He was about to dash out, but at the last second, he hesitated and glanced back at Tanjiro one more time. This time, his expression was serious.
„Tanjiro, I think it would be better if Nezuko stayed here with everyone in the village. Muzan might be trying to lure her out.“ He stopped briefly before adding, „…Please be careful, Tanjiro.”
And then, without another word, Muichiro and Genya sprinted out, vanishing into the night.
Tanjiro remained frozen in place, Muichiro’s words lingering in his mind.
Muichiro had understood the situation completely—how dangerous it was, how they needed to split up, how he needed to convince Tanjiro to let go. Tanjiro exhaled and forced himself to focus. There was no time to be selfish.
„…Tokito-kun is right,“ Tanjiro finally admitted, his voice steadier now.
Nezuko, standing beside him, looked up at him with wide eyes.
Tanjiro turned to her with a gentle but firm expression. „Nezuko, please stay here with Kanroji-san, Zenitsu, and Inosuke. I can’t risk you falling into Muzan’s hands now.“ Then, he turned to Kanroji. „Kanroji-san, please protect my sister. Thank you.“
Mitsuri nodded without hesitation. „Of course! Leave her to me.“
Tanjiro took a deep breath. Without another word, he turned and dashed out, his crow leading the way.