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Chapter Text

The awful villain’s dismembered head and body smoldered away into disintegrating ash.

Tanjiro forced himself to remain upright, his socked feet planted to the ground, gasping and panting as his flaming red blade burned out. After chasing down the miniscule demon, he’d finally managed to land a blow and cut through the main body of Upper Rank Four. His arms shook, the strain of decapitating such a powerful enemy having taken its toll.

Tanjiro sheathed his sword and brought his hand up to rub against his burning forehead; his Mark slowly withered back to its natural state.

Though slightly bruised, slashed, battered, and winded, Tanjiro couldn’t contain a smile. They had managed to defeat another Upper Rank. The plan had worked perfectly, with Tanjiro splintering off from Nezuko and Muichiro to scent out, find the main body, and destroy it. Now, all he could hope was that his sister and comrade were both alright, but given that he never sensed Zohakuten pursuing after him within the forest, that implied that they’d been able to handle themselves. They must be okay.

Back on the main battleground, where all three of the Corps members had initially been blasted by the fan demon Karaku, the Mist Hashira and demon girl were also realizing and revelling in their victory. The wooden dragon heads had started collapsing and disappearing around them, and Zohakuten was burning away silently, not even delivering a final cry of anguish or defeat.

Zohakuten, his wooden dragon manipulation Blood Demon Art, and all of the additional powers he possessed, had proven him to be a relentless, murderous opponent. Muichiro had even needed to resort to Mist Breathing Seventh Form: Obscuring Clouds, one of his strongest forms, to successfully evade all of the demon’s attacks.

Nezuko was just as enervated as her brother, having been forced to regenerate over and over after the dragon heads ripped off chunks of her body, and her Blood Demon Art: Exploding Blood having nearly drained her entire blood supply. But, she had managed to keep Muichiro safe, and that was all that mattered in her mind. The boy didn’t have a single scratch on him.

Tanjiro traipsed through the forest, slowly making his way back to Muichiro and Nezuko. He was focusing on Recovery Breathing so he could begin healing the worser cuts on his back that he had received from the flying demon Urogi. Nevertheless, he wasn’t as nearly as incapacitated as when he’d fought Upper Rank Six in the Entertainment District. While those injuries had left him comatose for months, he knew he wouldn’t suffer from his current wounds for more than a few days.

“Tanjiro.” Muichiro’s gentle voice broke through Tanjiro’s concentration.

Tanjiro raised his head, grateful to see the Mist Hashira, calm and collected as ever. “Hey, Tokito.”

“Great work.” Muichiro offered one of his rare smiles, exclusively reserved for Tanjiro.

“Thank you. We did it together, Tokito. We defeated an Upper Rank.” Tanjiro would have liked to have hugged him, but he noticed his sister’s absence. “Where’s Nezuko?”

Muichiro turned back towards the open field, littered with all sorts of fallen trees, holes, and cracked stones, the result of Zohakuten’s wooden dragon heads. “I think she was resting, or regenerating some of her wounds.” His gaze returned to Tanjiro’s body, and he tried to gauge the Sun Breather’s own possible injuries. “Are you okay?”

“Uh yeah, I’m fine.” Tanjiro answered distractedly, his stomach flip-flopping as he looked eastward and noticed the dark sky brightening into a gentle blue. Dawn was approaching. “Her box.” He started looking around, unsure if Urokodaki’s gift to him had also been wind-blasted this far into the forest. “I need to get her somewhere safe, before the sun comes up.”

Muichiro nodded and started helping Tanjiro search for Nezuko’s box. “If it comes to it, do you think we could bury her in one of these holes?”

“Uhhh, I don’t-” Tanjiro was about to explain how that plan was feasible, but that he really didn’t want to have to subject Nezuko to that, when he finally saw her on the edge of the treeline. She was still transformed into her most evolved demon form, but it looked like she was all in one piece, any dismembered limbs having already grown back. “Nezuko! You’re-”

Tanjiro suddenly caught the whiff of a new presence. It was familiar, warm, and human, but it also smelled like blood, sweat, and animosity.

“You filthy bastards!” The new voice roared. “I’ll kill you all!”

Tanjiro’s head whipped towards the sound, and he saw Genya entering the clearing, his arm raised. He was holding something, aiming it towards Nezuko. Is that a gun? If it is then why does it have the same scent as a nichirin sword?

What instantly translated in Tanjiro’s mind was that whatever weapon Genya was using, it wouldn’t just hurt Nezuko– it would kill her. “Nezuko, run!”

But the demon stayed in place, head tilted as she stared curiously at the boy who had screeched at her. He was a human, and she was to bring no harm to humans. And she had rarely needed to fear a human bringing any harm to her.

When he realized that Nezuko wasn’t going to retreat, Tanjiro raced towards her, turning his attention to Genya. “Genya, no! Don’t!” He was willing for Genya to listen to him and willing himself to pull Nezuko out of harm’s way in time. But he was too far away, he wouldn’t be able to cover the distance.

Genya’s finger flexed against the trigger, and before Tanjiro knew it, he was in front of Nezuko, circling her in his arms as his forehead burned once more. His Mark had revitalized upon his use of Dancing Flash.

That surge of strength hardly registered as pain exploded in Tanjiro’s upper back and the air left his lungs. A piercing explosion rang in his ears, and the scent of smoke filled his nose as his body tried to understand what had happened to it. He’d been struck. Hot blood was spilling down his skin, pooling in his uniform where his belt cinched against his waist. He’d been shot.

“Tanjiro!” Muichiro cried out as he witnessed the spray of blood and tissue coming from the Sun Breather’s body. He turned to Genya, who was standing shell-shocked, his firearm lowered to his side. “You idiot! What were you thinking?”

“I didn’t- I didn’t mean to- She’s a- I thought she-” Genya stammered. He couldn’t believe he’d shot his own comrade. He’d shot Tanjiro.

Gasping, trying to get air back into his lungs, Tanjiro clung against Nezuko. “N-Nezuko? Are you al-alright?”

Nezuko was clinging Tanjiro back, whimpering and murmuring against her muzzle. She knew he was wounded badly, the smell of so much of his blood filling the air.

She seems okay. Tanjiro couldn’t hear Muichiro castigating Genya behind him; he was terrified that the threat to his sister hadn’t been completely eliminated yet. Were more shots coming? “Nezuko! You-” He started coughing, and couldn’t stop. His sister was starting to become his crutch as his legs began to give out. “Sh-Shrink. Shrink down.”

Tears filled Nezuko’s eyes. She didn’t want to leave her brother, and yet, the demonic instinct in her body warning her of the impending sunlight started working against her. She started crying against Tanjiro as her demon marks receded, her horn retracted, and her limbs began to shorten.

Doing his best to comfort her, and also responding to the trauma in his body, Tanjiro collapsed down with her. “‘S Okay. It’s okay. I-I’ll be alright. Pro-Promise.”

Once down to a tiny child, Nezuko’s eyes hesitantly closed.

Keeping himself from crushing her, Tanjiro face-planted beside her, groaning and clenching his teeth. His body couldn’t give out now. He couldn’t stop now. He needed Nezuko’s box. He needed-

“Tanjiro. Stay down.” Muichiro was kneeling beside the Sun Breather, eyeing the red, exposed muscle and torn flesh hidden beneath the slashed uniform. He gathered up his long sleeves in his hands and pressed against the wound, needing to stop the bleeding.

Tanjiro flinched back from the pain, but was also shrugging Muichiro off. He still had to get Nezuko somewhere shaded and safe. “No. Nez-Nezuko-”

“I’ve got it!” Genya, after having been informed by Muichiro that Nezuko was not a bloodthirsty demon, but in fact Tanjiro’s little sister, had immediately gone to search for the box. The guilt riddling his body was intense, a sickening sensation he hadn’t felt since he’d cursed his own brother for killing their mother. He had wanted to help Tanjiro in every way he could, righting his wrongs, and that meant finding sanctuary for Nezuko first.

Genya dropped the box beside the Kamados, and Tanjiro rose on shaking hands and knees, crawling towards her so he could start placing her inside.

“Stop moving, Tanjiro.” Muichiro pressed down on Tanjiro’s lower back, avoiding the wounds he’d already sustained from Urogi, until he was flat once more “We’ve got her.”

“Okay. Ple-Please. Just-” Tanjiro couldn’t stop panicking. Hurry, hurry! The sky was only getting brighter and brighter. But finally, Muichiro and Genya had Nezuko shut safely inside her box, latching the door.

With Nezuko out of danger, Tanjiro couldn’t marginalize his pain, nor his body’s condition, any longer. His entire upper back was pulsing and burning, and he couldn’t move in any way to alleviate it. “Damnit! It hurts. It- It’s so-”

“Tanjiro, I’m so sorry!” Genya grabbed onto Tanjiro’s clenching fists as Muichiro returned brutal pressure to the center of the gunshot wound. “I didn’t mean to! I didn’t know! I didn’t know that she was- And I just thought-” I thought she was a killer. And Genya had no room to make such accusations, him having his own secret tendency to demonize. All of this was his fault. “I’m sorry!”

Tanjiro couldn’t pay too much attention to Genya’s contrition; his mind and body were still trying to make sense of what had happened to him. His blood was escaping him at an alarming rate, and the dizzying effects of hypovolemic shock made it difficult to think.

He’d been shot, he could hold onto that.

Tanjiro had never seen a gun before. There were never any in his childhood home, and he’d never seen any of his neighbors out hunting before. He wasn’t sure what sorts of wounds they caused, remembering that they weren’t weapons used to injure someone or something, they were weapons meant to kill their target– with bullets.

Tanjiro couldn’t fathom how a single bullet managed to blast off what felt like his entire left side. That was his bad side, too, already deeply marred and scarred by Upper Rank Six’s pink belts. Not that Tanjiro really had a “good” side, either, but some parts of his battered body were prone to worse recovery than others.

Recovery. That was another thing that Tanjiro held onto tightly. He needed to start Recovery Breathing. He needed to start healing himself, like Rengoku had taught him. That was all he needed to think about. He needed to forget that in his subconscious search through his body’s broken blood vessels, he had already located the bullet lodged within him. He needed to forget that it was still inside him. None of that mattered. All that mattered was controlling his breathing.

“Good, Tanjiro.” Muichiro encouraged. He’d been pressing into Tanjiro’s back for a couple of minutes, but wasn’t sure if the bleeding was slowing at all. “Keep breathing. Focus on the bleeding, Tanjiro. Stop the bleeding.”

“I’m try-trying.” Tanjiro wheezed. Recovery Breathing meant as slow and as deep of breaths as you could manage, but his breaths sounded more like pants. “I-”

“Don’t speak. And don’t move.” Genya let go of Tanjiro’s fists and then added his hands beside Muichiro’s so that all three of them were actively slowing the bleeding.

Tanjiro cringed as more of the wound was agitated by helping hands.

“Just keep breathing, Tanjiro.” Muichiro tried to swallow down his rising anger as he turned to Genya. Of course he hadn’t meant to hurt Tanjiro, but he’d still done it. He’d still been the one to pull the trigger. But that wasn’t important to dwell on at the moment. “Where did you even come from?” He eyed Genya’s bloodied and tattered clothes. “Is that your blood? Are you hurt too?”

It was Genya’s blood, but he wasn’t hurt. But he could never reveal his demon-eating secret, especially not to a Hashira, and especially not to Tanjiro. He was already to blame for this mess, and he couldn’t stand giving the two another reason to resent him.

Still, Genya had to explain himself somehow. “I’m fine. This blood must have come from one of the villagers. The whole village was under attack. There were these fish demons, and they had glass vases for vital spots instead of their heads.”

“There were more.” Muichiro could hardly believe it. Demons finding, invading, and harming those of the swordsmith village? All while he’d been stuck on this battlefield. “Was it another Upper Rank?”

“Another?” Genya’s eyes widened. Like the rest of the Demon Slayer Corps, Genya had been informed that only five Upper Ranks remained after word broke out of Upper Six’s defeat. But the idea of two of them being in the same spot at the same time, and possibly more? “You mean you fought one too?”

“Look around, Genya.” Muichiro’s eyes pointed towards the clearing. “No ordinary demon could do this.”

“I know, but- I’m not a hundred percent sure if what attacked the village was an Upper Rank demon, but I think those fish creatures were some sort of Blood Demon Art. I helped Ms. Kanroji defeat them, and then she went off by herself to kill the main body.”

Unbeknownst to Muichiro and Genya, Tanjiro had been paying some attention to their conversation. “Is s-she al-alright?”

“Stop talking.” Muichiro reminded, pressing in harder.

“Yeah, I’m sure she’s fine.” Genya reassured. He himself had been hesitant for the Love Hashira to break off from him back in the village because it prevented him from protecting her, not that she needed it. At the same time, it had been best to separate so that Genya was alone with the fish demons, and he could consume them and use his powers. “I assume she defeated the demon because the fish monsters all disappeared so suddenly.”

“The same thing happened here when Tanjiro decapitated the main body of Upper Rank Four.” Muichiro added. “It’s Blood Demon Art burnt away right after.”

“He defeated Upper Four?” Genya would have figured that the Hashira was the one to deliver the final blow. But Tanjiro was the real hero, and he was also the only one bleeding out, thanks to Genya.

The two remained silent, listening to Tanjiro struggle to breathe as his wounds closed up enough so that blood was only trickling out instead of gushing.

Once ten minutes had passed since they had started applying direct pressure, Muichiro felt it was safe to let up and survey the damage. “Tanjiro, we’re going to look at your wounds now.”

Tanjiro would have nodded, but he knew he was meant to keep still. “Okay.”

Muichiro started pulling back on the tatters of Tanjiro’s uniform, and the boy hissed as some of the material unglued itself from the injured skin and flesh.

It was difficult for Genya to see everything– they wouldn’t know the full extent of the wound until they were able to get the uniform top off– but what he could see didn’t look good. He had been secretly hoping that since he hadn’t been firing from point-blank range, the slug may have missed the target, but unfortunately, his aim had been true. “We need to get him some help. Real help. The bullet’s still in there, and pellets too.”

“Pellets? What do you mean?” Muichiro looked at the wound, trying to identify the aforementioned objects. He couldn’t tell what Genya had seen; all he could perceive was torn flesh and deep crimson.

“I use a slug buckshot combo. That means there’s one regular bullet, but also a bunch of small fragments. Eight, actually.” Genya looked away. “It’s meant to inflict as much damage as possible. Enough to blow the heads off of demons. And the bullets are forged from nichirin, so it kills them.”

Had they been in any other situation, Muichiro would have found it useful to learn more about this kind of weapon. If it aided in long-range attacks against demons, these guns could prove incredibly useful to the Corps. But there wasn’t time for that now. “Could we not remove them ourselves?”

“Some of these fragments are tiny, and they could travel anywhere, ricocheting off of bones and tissues in the body.” Genya explained. “Assuming something vital hasn’t already been hit, we could hit it ourselves searching. It needs to be a doctor, or something. Someone who knows what they’re doing.”

“There should be a doctor in the village, right?” Muichiro replaced Tanjiro’s uniform carefully, leaving the wound alone. “We need to get Tanjiro there.”

While Tanjiro had remained quiet, focusing on his Recovery Breathing, he was still listening. Are they going to take me to a doctor? That’s not- The swordsmiths are who’s most important right now. If the village was attacked, then they’re the ones who need looking after, not me. “No.”

Muichiro and Genya dissolved their planning, glancing down at Tanjiro.

“I’ll be f-fine.” Tanjiro planted his hands and knees and slowly started to rise.

“Tanjiro, stop!” Muichiro was trying to replace his hands on the boy’s back and push him back down.

“No.” Tanjiro was heaving. “The villagers need h-help. Take m-me to Ms. Shi-Shinobu.”

Muichiro and Genya shared a look.

While Genya would have given the Sun Breather the benefit of the doubt, Muichiro knew that Tanjiro wouldn’t survive a trip like that. It was frustrating sometimes, Tanjiro’s selflessness. He was the most important person in the world to Muichiro, besides the Master, and he deserved treatment and care. He deserved it more so than any of the other villagers, at least in his eyes.

Muichiro found himself speaking to Tanjiro like his older brother used to speak to him. “And you think you can somehow make it back to the Butterfly Mansion, Tanjiro? This village’s location is secret. We would need several different Kakushi escorts. It would take days. You’d never last.”

“I c-can make it. I-” Tanjiro’s determination broke off into a coughing fit. It started out raspy and ended bubbly and wet.

Genya gasped as bright red blood spilled from Tanjiro’s lips.

Muichiro’s eyes widened at the sight, but he knew he needed to take action. “Genya, carry the box.” He ordered as he knelt on Tanjiro’s right side. He waited until the boy’s coughs had subsided before lacing his arm beneath Tanjiro’s, and lifting.

Tanjiro leaned heavily into Muichiro’s side. “Tokito, I-”

“Go back to focusing on your breathing, Tanjiro. That’s where you’ll be most useful.” Muichiro reached out with his sleeve, wiping the blood from Tanjiro’s mouth.

Genya had Nezuko’s box resting against his back. “What should I-”

“Left side.” Muichiro directed. “Don’t lift his arm up either, it could reopen the wounds. Just support him as best you can.”

Genya nodded, then stood on the other side of Tanjiro. He wrapped his arm around Tanjiro’s waist so he wasn’t leaning entirely on Muichiro, rather, he was balanced between the both of them.

Once they were all set and steady, Muichiro began guiding the three. “Walk, Tanjiro. We’re going back to the village. We’re going to get you help, whether you want it or not.”

Chapter Text

Tanjiro, Muichiro, Genya, and inadvertently, Nezuko, trudged through the forest, headed towards what remained of the swordsmith village. Their progress was sluggish, but there wasn’t any other alternative. They needed to move at Tanjiro’s pace, and as time stretched on, wounds reopened, and more blood shed, that tempo kept decreasing.

Tanjiro was diverting most of his efforts into relaxing the damaged muscles of his back, pinching off blood vessels, and repairing cells and tissues. Any other menial mental and physical energy was responsible for moving his legs. He didn’t bother raising his head to look where he was going; he trusted that Muichiro and Genya would guide him.

The Mist Hashira and gun-wielder were diligently watching Tanjiro as they went, shooting glances at one another anytime the Sun Breather stumbled, or one of his feet started to drag. All they could do was gently hoist him up higher and try to keep him from tripping on the nettles and roots in front of him.

Muichiro was dead set on the village, and the miracle that a doctor would be there, but Genya was formulating other ideas. Their current method didn’t seem sustainable, and just as he was about to voice his concern, Tanjiro sagged, dead weight in their arms.

“Crap, I think he’s-” Genya started to drop with Tanjiro, so they could get him carefully placed on the ground.

But Muichiro remained upright. “No, don’t. We can’t stop. We have to keep moving.”

Ignoring Genya’s incredulous look, Muichiro grabbed Tanjiro’s chin and held his head up, swaying it gently from side to side. “Come on, Tanjiro. Wake up. Don’t make me carry you. Wake up.”

Tanjiro groaned, and his eyelids started to flutter.

“That’s it, Tanjiro. Open your eyes.” Muichiro coaxed.

While Muichiro continued pulling Tanjiro from unconsciousness, Genya searched their surroundings, looking for anything that might be of help to them. A river would be good; if they got Tanjiro to drink something, replenishing his fluids would probably perk him up.

Genya had also noticed all kinds of debris littering the forest while they had walked. Muichiro had explained earlier that Upper Four had blasted their entire inn away with some sort of fan attack. Maybe there was a door or a tatami mat that they could carry Tanjiro with, like a stretcher.

Genya kept looking, and spotted a small house, well off from their makeshift trail. He squinted, making sure he was actually seeing what he was seeing. It was a house, and that could mean shelter, a well with water, or maybe even bandages. If they could get Tanjiro there, they may be able to help stabilize him before they were able to get hold of a doctor.

“Hey.” Genya tapped Muichiro’s shoulder.

“What?” Muichiro hissed before turning his attention back to the now awake, but hardly lucid, Tanjiro.

“Look.” Genya pointed. “There’s a house. If we can get him there, then one of us can stay with him and the other can go and find help.”

Muichiro frowned, contemplative. Letting Tanjiro rest was probably for the best, and then he or Genya would be able to get a doctor much faster than their current rate. But still, he was worried that if he put Tanjiro down, his friend would succumb to his injuries and never get up. He wanted the doctor first, someone who would know what to do, someone who would know how to keep Tanjiro from dying.

“Tokito.” Genya spoke quietly, in case the Sun Breather was paying them any attention. “If we keep moving him like this, he’s not gonna make it.”

Muichiro flinched, unsuspecting of Genya’s directness. How dare he say such things, and yet, Muichiro knew he wasn’t wrong. He glanced at Tanjiro’s back and could see that blood was still steadily dripping through his uniform. It was collecting beneath them in the dirt, already forming a small puddle.

Muichiro finally relented. It would be safest to bring the help to Tanjiro rather than bring Tanjiro to the help. “Fine. Let’s go. Tanjiro, walk.”

. . .

As much as Muichiro wanted to kick down the door, he knocked instead, waiting for a reply from anyone who happened to be inside.

Silence.

“It’s probably abandoned.” Genya had traded places with the Mist Hashira and was now holding Tanjiro up by himself. “Or whoever lived here’s already evacuated. They had bells going off in the village when the fish demons attacked; they probably heard them all the way out here and fled.”

And that was all Muichiro needed to hear. Rearing back, he slammed the door inward, blasting it off its hinges and ricocheting it off the opposite wall in the house.

Muichiro motioned for Genya to follow him and stepped inside.

“Stay back!” A single swordsmith stood at the ready, a massive sledgehammer grasped in his trembling hands.

Muichiro and Genya halted, ready to apologize and reassure the man they weren’t demons and meant no harm, but a second, softer voice chimed in.

“Gantetsu, lower your weapon.” Chief Tecchin Tecchikawahara called out, huddled in the back corner of the room. “It’s Muichiro, the Mist Hashira, and Genya, and is that Tanjiro?”

With Genya still carrying Tanjiro, and Tanjiro indisposed, Muichiro was the only one who could kneel and bow. “Forgive us, Chief Tecchin. We were unaware you were taking refuge here, though we’re grateful to see that you’re safe.”

“Yes, this is one of our safehouses, in case a demon attacks. But am I correct?” The chief asked once more. “Is that young Tanjiro?”

Muichiro stood. “Yes, and he’s been wounded.”

“Oh no.” Techhin, having developed a fondness for Tanjiro from the moment he’d stepped foot in the village, shook his head in dismay. “Bring him over here. We’ll take a look. My son Gantetsu briefly studied to become a doctor before committing to the life of a swordsmith. He should be able to help.”

“Of course. I’ll do whatever I can.” Gantetsu brought his past medical training to the forefront of his mind. “It’s important to keep him warm, so I’ll start a fire. I’m going to begin boiling some water too.”

“Right.” Muichiro nodded and returned to Tanjiro’s side, helping Genya lower him down near the center of the room. There, everyone would be able to work around him easiest. “Go slow, Genya. Just set him down for now.”

Tanjiro winced and groaned as his knees and shins knocked against the floor, his feet tucking clumsily beneath him as he settled into an unorthodox kneel. He wasn’t entirely sure what was going on anymore, but he could recognize new voices and new scents. One was familiar, but he couldn’t put a face to it. He was mainly trying to stay awake, but he felt himself teetering closer towards the edge of unconsciousness as his eyelids fluttered open and shut.

Tanjiro was dizzy too, and he couldn’t tell whether the vertigo and swaying sensation were all in his head, or if he was really shifting to and fro. Whatever it was, it needed to cease soon before his nausea progressed into vomiting. He felt himself starting to collapse listlessly to the side, when a warm presence clasped hands against his uninjured shoulder and waist, keeping him up. Someone was sitting behind him.

Tanjiro wanted to crane his neck and see who was touching him, but the simple task of flexing those muscles sent pain racing all throughout his upper body, stealing his breath away.

Upon the Sun Breather’s gasp, Genya apologized, briefly removing his hands before returning them once more. “Sorry, Tanjiro. I didn’t mean to scare you. We thought you were knocked out.”

Even though Tanjiro’s eyes were open once more, and he could hear muddled words, he couldn’t discern anything. He didn’t even give Genya one of his typical “No worries,” or “It’s fine,” responses.

“He’s lost a lot of blood, hasn’t he.” Chief Tecchin sighed, understanding Tanjiro’s disorientation.

“Yes.” Muichiro was crouching in front of Tanjiro, starting to unbutton his uniform. “He’s been using his breathing to combat it, but it looks like it wasn’t as effective as we hoped.” Once he had everything unbuttoned, he started to get the top off, pushing the sleeves back so they would fall off of Tanjiro’s shoulders.

All of the movement, and the brushing of the tough fabric against his wounds, it would have been all the same to rub sandpaper against them. Tanjiro groaned, gritting his teeth, as the sleeves started to fall down his arms.

“It’s okay, Tanjiro.” Genya let Muichiro remove the article of clothing, keeping himself planted behind his friend, acting as a stabilizer. “We’re just taking your uniform off.”

But Tanjiro wanted to keep his uniform on; he was so cold all of a sudden. His body shuddered and shivered as sweat leached from every pore. And he couldn’t even bring his arms up to wrap around himself, to try and preserve what little body heat he could hang onto.

“You’ll be warm soon, Tanjiro.” Muichiro eased as he glanced at Gantetsu, who was lighting the charcoal within the irori at the back of the room. The man was also placing a large kettle, presumably filled with water, on the hook hanging above the firepit.

Maybe they should have placed Tanjiro closer to the heat source, but the room was small enough that the heat should permeate through the air quickly. Muichiro only wished he hadn’t kicked the door in; the warmth was going to escape outside. “Genya, put the door back.”

“Okay, yeah.” Genya helped Muichiro pull off the remainder of Tanjiro’s uniform before discarding the top to wherever it landed across the room. “Let me help you get him down first.”

Genya and Muichiro lowered Tanjiro onto his front, positioning his arms and legs so he was splayed out flat, his head turned towards the fire. His eyes were closed, but his periodic gasps and the tension in his face revealed he was still conscious.

“Okay, I’ll try and fix the door.” Genya got up, moving away from Tanjiro and refusing to look at the damage he’d caused to the Sun Breather’s back.

Chief Tecchin, who’d begun setting up a few candlelit lamps, was not as reserved. He gasped as the horrific wounds were illuminated. “Oh my, you poor young man. Surely this isn’t the work of a demon alone? In fact, this looks like- Genya, is this-”

Genya remained silent; he couldn’t bear to answer. Instead, he pulled off the straps of Nezuko’s box and placed her in the corner before grabbing the unhinged door. He wedged it back within the frame, effectively keeping the chilly breeze outside. He may be the one to blame for all of this, but this was one thing he could fix.

“Yes, it’s a gunshot from Genya’s nichirin weapon.” Muichiro confirmed Chief Techhin’s thoughts for Genya. “I’ve been told there’s a bullet, as well as other fragments, left all throughout the wound.”

“I see.” Chief Tecchin, though at first enraptured by the bullet hole and impact of the buckshot, looked down towards Tanjiro’s other injuries. “And what of these gashes? They seem to be at a further stage of healing.”

“Tanjiro received those from Upper Rank Four. It was early in the fight, so they’ve had more time to close up.” Muichiro explained.

“So it was an Upper Rank?” Chief Tecchin had had his suspicions. Only the works and schemes of highly evolved demons would have been able to discover the secrets of the swordsmith villages, and their many different locations.

“Actually,” Genya returned, seating himself beside Muichiro at Tanjiro’s head, “we believe it was two Upper Ranks. Ms. Kanroji defeated one of them, and Tanjiro here defeated Upper Four.”

“The lovely Miss Mitsuri, I’m not surprised by her ability to defeat an Upper Rank. But for Tanjiro, what an incredible feat. And to think he’s not even a Hashira.” Chief Tecchin praised. He was truly taken aback by this information. In all his life, never once had any members of the Demon Slayer Corps defeated an Upper Rank. And now, within a year, and within this one night, Upper Rank Six, and two more of the Twelve Kizuki, had been decapitated. “We certainly can’t afford to lose Tanjiro after all he’s done.”

“And we won’t.” Gantetsu joined the small circle around Tanjiro, pulling off his haori and placing it beside him. He then started pulling out a few tools from the pockets, many of which he used when detailing the guards and hilts of the swords he designed. “Nothing here is going to be as sterile as I would prefer, but we must make do. We’ll also need some kind of bandaging.”

Immediately, Genya took off his purple vest and started tearing it into long strips. Muichiro followed suit, ripping off his long sleeves; he tossed aside the ends that were soaked with Tanjiro’s blood from earlier. Chief Tecchin first removed a kiseru smoking pipe from his haori, then pulled off the article and handed it to Gentetus to start transforming into makeshift bandage strips and squares.

Each worked in concentrated silence, only the sounds of Tanjiro’s increasingly ragged breathing filling the room.

“That water should be ready soon.” Gantetsu laid out each of the bandage strips and squares categorically beside his instruments. “I’ll sterilize my tools first, which will take a few minutes. And then I’ll wash the wound. After, we can start removing the bullet. And you mentioned this was buckshot, correct? How many pellets should I be searching for?”

“Eight.” Genya provided. “But it’s not to say that one or two pieces might have missed him. There might only be five or six pieces still inside.”

“Right.” Gantetsu’s brow furrowed. He would have preferred a more definitive number; he would have to be thorough in probing the wound, and even then, what he would be searching for may not even be there. At the same time, he couldn’t afford to leave anything left inside Tanjiro’s body, and risk further complications in the future.

Gantetsu scooped up all of his impromptu medical tools, and dropped them into the kettle of boiling water. He was also muttering to himself, not realizing that the Mist Hashira could hear him. “If only we had some shochu or sake. I can’t exactly sterilize my hands in boiling water.”

Muichiro didn’t realize the significance of cleanliness when it came to injuries and wound care. Any time he’d had to be patched up, he either didn’t remember, or he didn’t pay attention enough to care. He did his best not to worry; no matter the circumstances, he knew Tanjiro was strong enough to pull through and evade infection.

Gantetsu returned to the circle around Tanjiro. “It goes without saying, but this will all be rather unpleasant. I imagine, given his training and stamina, that Lord Kamado will be able to tolerate what I’ll have to do, but if not, I may need both of your help.” He motioned towards Genya and Muichiro.

Genya nodded. “We’ll do whatever you need. Whatever it takes.”

“It shouldn’t be much.” Gantetsu elaborated. “Maybe just stopping the bleeding with some of these cloths while I work, or keeping him still if the pain overwhelms him.”

All of a sudden, Tanjiro’s eyes burst open and his light panting turned into full blown gasps. He started fidgeting against the floor, bringing his arms beneath him as if he were about to lift himself up.

Muichiro grabbed onto Tanjiro’s arms, preventing him from moving too much. “Tanjiro, what’s wrong?”

“Please, calm yourself, Lord Kamado.” Gantetsu figured that maybe Tanjiro had overheard his statements and that the boy was worried about the agonizing procedure about to take place.

“Yeah, come on, Tanjiro. You’re okay.” Genya squeezed Tanjiro’s right shoulder, trying to get him to calm down. “Remember your Recovery Breathing.”

If only Tanjiro could! He’d felt a building tightness in his chest from the moment he’d been shot, but now, it felt as if a vice was squeezing around his chest, only getting tighter and tighter with each desperate breath. He couldn’t breathe! He hadn’t felt this way since his first encounter with the Hashira, when the Serpent Hashira had had him pinned to the ground, his elbow digging into his back.

Muichiro glanced Tanjiro up and down, trying to find a reason for the Sun Breather’s new behavior. It wasn’t like Tanjiro to suddenly panic without reason. “Tanjiro, what is it?” Tell us. Tell me.

Tanjiro shook his head, he didn’t think he could speak. The building pressure in his chest, along with an unpleasant burning in his lungs, surmounted the suffering emanating from his back. He needed this new pain to stop, and felt himself trying to roll to his side. He needed to move in any way that might allow just a little more oxygen into his body.

Genya gasped, as he noticed Tanjiro’s lips, and the tips of his fingers, starting to turn blue. “Damnit, what’s happening to him?”

“Breathe, Tanjiro.” Chief Tecchin encouraged. “You have to calm down and breathe.”

Realizing he needed to make them aware of his body’s deterioration, Tanjiro forced through clenched teeth, “My ch-chest… ex-explode.”

Gantetsu, examining with a clinical eye, was still formulating what was happening. The cyanosis was indeed worrisome; they needed to get Tanjiro breathing efficiently once more. “Flip him over.”

“What, on his back?” Genya didn’t get it. They needed to heal Tanjiro’s wounds, which would be impossible in that condition.

Muichiro didn’t hesitate against Gantetsu’s instructions, starting to twist Tanjiro around so he was flat on his back. In fact, it appeared that that was what the Sun Breather had been trying to do all along as he fought for breath.

“What’s most important is maintaining his airways. The bullet will have to wait.” Gantetsu was crouching over Tanjiro now, watching his stalling chest thump back and forth against the ground as it tried to alleviate the mind-bending pressure within.

“What do you mean? What’s wrong with him?” Genya was helping Muichiro grab Tanjiro’s arms, as he had been fiercely trying to encircle his chest to try and apply any sort of counterpressure that would allow him to breathe.

An involuntary keening sound emitted from the back of Tanjiro’s throat and tears sprang from his eyes as suffocation took hold. His vision was starting to blackout. He was dying.

Muichiro, who was desperately clinging onto Gantetsu being able to save Tanjiro, was losing his patience as he watched the older man sit back, appearing to do nothing. “Do something!”

Tanjiro’s tortured gasps choked off into nothing, and they all watched in either horror or fascination as the Sun Breather’s throat bulged and his windpipe started moving to the right.

“Pneumothorax.” Gantetsu concluded. “One of the fragments must have punctured his left lung. We need-” In hospital, these sorts of conditions were treated with an incision and implantation of a chest tube, and the only supplies they had to fill that order was a whittler’s knife. How was he supposed to-

“Gantetsu.” Chief Tecchin also had a brief understanding of what was happening to Tanjiro, him having witnessed many illnesses and ailments in his long life. He handed his son his kiseru smoking pipe. “Use this.”

While the lining of the skinny, bamboo pipe was incredibly narrow, it was not only their best option, but their only option.

Gantetsu knew he didn’t have the right amount of strength to impale Tanjiro with the pipe without causing undue suffering or without weakening the pipe and breaking it. “Lord Tokito, you must take this and insert it into Lord Kamado’s chest.”

Muichiro and Genya’s eyes widened. Stabbing Tanjiro? That seemed counterproductive.

“I will show you.” Gantetsu placed his hands on the left side of Tanjiro’s ribcage, counting until he was between the fourth and fifth intercostal space. “We need the pipe to pierce about an inch within. Angle it like this.” He positioned Muichiro’s hand accordingly.

Muichiro, for the first time, hesitated.

Gantetsu hardened his gaze. “This will allow him to breathe once more. This will save him.”

That was all it took. Muichiro precisely pierced the pipe exactly where Gantetsu indicated, into Tanjiro’s chest.

The Sun Breather flinched, with no ability to cry out at this new, sharp pain.

Everyone heard a hissing sound as air started flowing out from the broken pipe, finally having an avenue to escape instead of building up within Tanjiro’s chest cavity. And almost immediately, Tanjiro started gasping, panting, then breathing, once more.

A drop or two of blood started to drip out of the pipe, much to Genya and Muichiro’s alarm.

“That’s alright. That’s normal.” Gantetsu assured. He also brought over the kettle lid, placing it beneath the pipe so that the blood could collect and not make a mess beneath Tanjiro. “Everything trapped inside needs to escape in order for him to heal properly.”

Tanjiro started coughing, wincing as all of the jarring movement aggravated his back, which was now redemanding his attention. A few specks of blood coated his lips and teeth.

Muichiro grabbed one of the bandage cloths and wiped his mouth. “Are you alright now, Tanjiro?”

“No.” Tanjiro whispered out. “But b-better than b’fore.”

“Good.” Genya breathed a sigh of relief as he placed Tanjiro’s arms back down to his sides. “So long as he’s breathing, I guess. Right?”

“Right.” Muichiro’s mouth was set in a grim line. That had been too close. And who knew what other damages the bullet or fragments had done to Tanjiro’s body. But at least Tanjiro was safe for now.

“Excellent work, Gantetsu.” Chief Techhin clapped his hands together.

“Thank you, father. Good thinking with your pipe. I’ll have to get you a new one, of course.” Gantetsu was bringing over the kettle of boiled water and sterilized instruments. “I’ll let these cool a few minutes before we begin. For now, let’s let him catch his breath.”

Chapter Text

They allowed a few minutes to pass after Tanjiro’s near-death, suffocation experience so that his body could reacclimate to the conditions of unhindered breathing. But even that period had to be brief; they couldn’t afford to waste too much time.

Far too soon, Tanjiro could hear Genya starting to direct him.

“Hey, Tanjiro.” Genya patted against the Sun Breather’s shoulder. “Whenever you can, try and start Recovery Breathing again.”

Internally, Tanjiro huffed. Had he not been Recovery Breathing? Subconsciously he knew he was barely clinging onto lucidity and his breathing was being regulated by survival instincts instead of the focused concentration of a trained Demon Slayer. More exhausted than frustrated, he dutifully replied, “‘Kay,” before consciously breathing as slowly and deeply as possible once more.

“We’ll need to turn him back over.” Gantetsu was starting to remove the few tools from the kettle, lining them up strategically on a clean bandage in the order he would need them. “Be mindful of the pipe we’ve got in place.”

Both Muichiro and Genya nodded their understanding.

“Tanjiro, we’re going to lift you now and flip you over.” Muichiro scooped his arms beneath the Sun Breather’s torso. “Just stay still. Don’t try to help.”

Tanjiro hummed, absolute deadweight in Muichiro and Genya’s arms.

The Mist Hashira and gun-wielder were able to gently relocate Tanjiro onto his front, their attention to the teen’s makeshift chest tube dictating each of their careful movements.

“I think we’re ready, Gantetsu.” Chief Tecchin kept himself away and out of the space of each of Tanjiro’s caretakers. His role was more of “cheerleading,” and offering his insight and ideas, like the kiseru smoking pipe, in this situation anyways.

“Right.” Gantetsu grabbed one of the square cloths and dipped it into the hot water. “I’ll begin with cleaning. Ready, Lord Kamado?”

Tanjiro knew there wasn’t any other alternative. “Yeah.”

Muichiro and Genya kept back, but were at the ready, in case their assistance was required by Gantetsu or Tanjiro in any way.

Tanjiro had himself steeled as Gantetsu got to work, gently clearing dried blood, dirt, and debris from around and atop the shotgun wound. The sheer heat from the cloth drew most of his attention, but within moments, it was cooling to more tolerable levels. And with his concentration on Recovery Breathing, almost placing him in a Zen-like state, he felt like he had an adequate hold on the pain.

Deeming the wound clean enough, Gantetsu grabbed the small brass hammer that he normally used when fitting the mekugi pegs within nichirin sword handles. Holding the hammer by its head, its long, skinny handle would make for a good “probing” tool, given its blunt end. He didn’t want to search for the bullet or fragments with his tweezers, which had a much sharper point. “Alright, I’m going to start searching for the bullet and pieces now. Brace yourself, Lord Kamado.”

Of course Tanjiro braced himself, but even so, feeling something entering his back, moving through damaged, inflamed, irritated tissues was excruciating on top of all of the other pain he had to endure. His muscles coiled tightly and spasmed as he tried to keep still, but he could tell that he was still moving, shifting from side to side on the ground.

Tanjiro then felt Muichiro and Genya’s hands on him, as they aided in limiting his movements.

Tanjiro wasn’t fighting any of them, by any means, but it was practically impossible to keep as immobile as Gantetsu needed him to be in order to locate the different pieces of embedded shrapnel.

It wasn’t long before Gantetsu announced, “Found one. I believe this is only a fragment.” Keeping his probe right on top of the tiny chink of metal, he grabbed his tweezers with his other hand, and then added it within the wound, right beside the probe.

Tanjiro couldn’t keep himself from crying out at the unexpected addition, and Muichiro and Genya’s grips tightened around him.

As the two Demon Slayers pressed down on Tanjiro, Gantetsu pulled up the tweezers, revealing a small piece of buckshot that he unceremoniously dropped into the kettle lid settled beneath the leaking chest tube. “That’s one down.”

The procedure went on as Gantetsu located and removed three more fragments, with Tanjiro’s condition deteriorating at each passing minute. He was still maintaining his Recovery Breathing, but the sounds of his effort were getting more and more exaggerated as his focus was distracted by sharp, infrequent bouts of pain, coughing, and the desire to ask for a break.

After a brief period where Gantetsu couldn’t seem to find any more fragments, he started to direct the probe to the very center of the wound, presumably where the large slug would be found.

Tanjiro groaned, clenching his teeth and rocking his body up into Muichiro and Genya’s hands once new territory was breached by Gantetsu’s tool.

“Hang in there, Tanjiro.” Genya kept glancing back and forth between the Sun Breather’s pinched face, hidden away as he pressed his forehead into the floor, and Gantetsu’s hands, fingers nearly breaching the wound as he pushed inside deeper and deeper. “Nearly there, now.”

And while Genya wasn’t sure if what he’d said was truthful, Gantetsu declared immediately after, “I’ve found it.” Painstakingly adding the tweezers alongside the probe, he heard the tink of metal against metal.

Tanjiro screamed as Gantetsu was forced to open the tweezers wider than before, in order to accommodate the bullet’s much larger size.

As the wound was stretched open, clotted blood vessels burst, and a gush of blood started seeping from the injury once more. All of the fluid made the bullet much more slippery and difficult for Gantetsu to grab. “Lord Tokito, if you could, please-”

Muichiro kept one of his hands pushing down against Tanjiro’s arching back, grabbing a few cloths with the other, and wiped away whatever blood he could.

Gantetsu’s hand kept jerking as he seemed to manage a grip on the slug, only to lose it once he started trying to pull it out, miniscule movement at a time.

“This isn’t like you, Gantetsu. Your hands can’t afford to shake.” Chief Tecchin scolded. “You’ve got to be firm in your grip to pull it out.”

“I’m not-” Gantetsu knew he wasn’t trembling, as his father implied. This was different; something was wrong. After several more attempts of clinching the bullet between the tweezers, the man silently cursed. “I can’t seem to remove it. It’s almost as if it’s stuck to something. . .”

“Hmm.” Chief Tecchin was lost in ponderment until he revealed, “It’s his Recovery Breathing.”

“What do you mean, Chief?” Genya asked as he rubbed up and down Tanjiro’s arm, soothing him during this “break.”

“His Recovery Breathing is healing his wounds too quickly, and his flesh is growing and melding around the bullet and buckshot.” Chief Tecchin explained. “He must stop Recovery Breathing if we’re to help him.”

“And that also means– I’ll have to cut the bullet out.” Gantetsu picked up the small knife that he usually used to etch designs and insignias onto sword guards. He had been hoping he wouldn’t have to use it, but these measures required it.

Muichiro frowned; to stop Recovery Breathing? That seemed counterproductive. But the last time he’d had that thought, Gantetsu had saved Tanjiro with the implementation of the kiseru smoking pipe. If the Chief and Gantetsu supported it, then it had to be the right thing to do. “Tanjiro.” He removed his hands from the Sun Breather’s back and grabbed beneath his chin, lifting his head up and looking him in the eye. “Did you hear Chief Techhin? You need to stop Recovery Breathing.”

Tanjiro, trapped in a pained, delirious, and feverish state, thought he had heard Muichiro speaking to him, but he didn’t think he was understanding him correctly. After all, he thought the Mist Hashira had just told him to stop Recovery Breathing. That couldn’t be right; if he stopped Recovery Breathing, then he’d bleed out and die.

Tanjiro shook his head, the notion of not Recovery Breathing going against all of his body’s instincts to keep him alive.

Genya tried getting through to their friend, placing himself where Muichiro had been, right in front of Tanjiro’s face. “Tanjiro, listen to us. This is going to help you. Stop Recovery Breathing. Just breathe normally.”

Tanjiro was getting more and more confused. Now Genya was telling him to stop Recovery Breathing. It couldn’t be that he wasn’t hearing them clearly. And what even was normal breathing? He hadn’t breathed “normally” since before his rehabilitation training at the Butterfly Mansion. He wasn’t even sure he remembered how.

“Try panting, that would probably work.” Muichiro offered, then waited for Tanjiro’s breathing to stop evening out. Frustrated when the Sun Breather’s breathing didn’t change in pace or tempo, Muchiro shook Tanjiro’s right shoulder. “Tanjiro, focus. You need to stop Recovery Breathing. That’s an order.”

Tanjiro winced. He couldn’t go against an order, especially one from a Hashira. It felt like giving up, or failure, but reluctantly, he ceased his Recovery Breathing, falling into a pattern of uneven gasps, pants, and even moments where he held his breath.

Tanjiro didn’t like it. He felt like he was losing what little control he had on everything. And he was definitely losing his ability to keep himself lying there, forcing himself to endure the pain, which was beginning to become overwhelming.

Tanjiro had no time to dwell on this before he felt stabbing, burning pain when more foreign objects and movement returned within his wound. This new pain was somehow surmounting the agony he’d been surviving for the past few hours. He was utterly lost and blind to it, the feeling overtaking him.

While Genya and Muichiro had only been holding Tanjiro earlier, keeping his small movements in check and providing him their support and comfort, now they were actively working to hold him down.

When Gantetsu had started making small cuts and incisions in the wound, Tanjiro had started screeching and thrashing, oblivious to who was with him and oblivious to the fact that what was happening to him was actually helping him.

Gantetsu shuddered, cringing as he had to make awful, fierce cuts along the violent path that the slug had forged within Tanjiro’s body. It felt wrong, destroying the work Tanjiro’s healing body had tried to employ, but his clinical mind knew that this was the right thing to do for the Sun Breather’s condition.

Eventually, the bullet was finally cut loose and pulled free, landing with a resounding thud in the kettle lid.

Tanjiro sagged, boneless, having finally been granted some relief.

But they weren’t finished yet.

“I’ve managed to remove the bullet, Lord Kamado.” Gantetsu rinsed some of the blood from his hands into the lukewarm water kettle. “But I’m afraid there could still be a few pellets left inside. I need to find them and remove them.”

Despite his characteristically unwavering resolve, Tanjiro shrunk into himself, bringing his good arm up to wipe at the tears falling from his face. He knew it was all going to be over soon, and he knew that he could do this, but that didn’t make it any easier.

But it still had to be done, and Tanjiro was going to do his best in weathering the pain, and helping his caretakers.

Gantetsu had tucked the knife away on the bandages, and grabbed the probing tool. “Okay, Lord Kamado, I’m going to-”

“One s-second.” Tanjiro interrupted. “I-I can-”

Chief Techhin starts, “I know this is difficult, Tanjiro, but the sooner-”

“No, iss not-” Tanjiro could understand what everyone was implying. They all knew he’d reached his limit from the moment Genya had dragged him through that door, but this was different. He needed them to understand that he wasn’t backing down, but that he was trying to help. “I can f-find ‘em.”

Both Genya and Gantetsu traded confused looks, and they both inquired Tanjiro about what he meant.

Muichiro and Chief Tecchin had also shared their own knowing looks, and Muichiro defended Tanjiro’s statement. “Let’s wait a minute or two. If we let him concentrate, he should be able to identify the fragments and where to find them. You’ll have more direction, Mr. Gantetsu. We should trust him.”

“Of course, Lord Tokito.” Gantetsu would never consider arguing with the Mist Hashira.

In less than a minute, Tanjiro managed to locate every one of the remaining fragments. “There’s th-three left.” He paused before sputtering out a cough, a splatter of blood coating the ground in front of him. “Can feel ‘em. Two to the left.”

Gantetsu was swiping away the blood with one of the dirty, used cloths. “To the left?”

“Of where the b-bullet ‘twas. Ther’ close t-together.” Tanjiro closed his eyes, panting.

“And the last one, Tanjiro?” Genya pushed.

“To the right. ‘S really d-deep.” Tanjiro’s voice broke out into a moan.

“Excellent, Lord Kamado.” Gantetsu praised. “I’ll have them all removed as quickly as I can. Just hang on a few moments longer.”

And with that, Gantetsu went to work, not stopping until all three fragments were removed. The first two to the left had been relatively easy to seek and extract, but the final one was unfortunately as difficult to remove as the slug. Gantetsu had been required to make a couple of cuts to expose the fragment from the encapsulating flesh, an act that elicited an agonizing response from Tanjiro.

By the end of it, Tanjiro was panting, gasping, and sniveling against the floor, Genya was catching his breath after all of the exertion, Muichiro and Gantetsu were collecting themselves, and the Chief was praising each of them and their efforts.

“Alright, there’s not much left to do.” Gantetsu starts gently cleaning the wound, preparing to pack it and wrap it with the strips they’d created. “You’re safe to begin Recovery Breathing once more, Lord Kamado.”

Finally receiving permission, Tanjiro fell into unconsciousness as his body returned to a state of deep, Total Concentration and Recovery Breathing. He could finally find some peace.

“Now all he needs is rest, and he should pull through.” Chief smiles beneath his hyottoko mask. “And I have no doubt he will. He’s strong enough.”

. . .

Tanjiro awoke slowly, his initial awareness only of the dull, achy pain in his upper back, and a fuzziness in his head. After he gained more comprehension, he noticed that he was on his stomach, a small pillow in front of him, and that he was covered up in some sort of blanket? Where was he? What was going on?

Tanjiro placed his arms beneath him and was about to lift himself up when two sets of hands pressed against him. That struck a memory in Tanjiro; people restraining him and then mind-numbing pain afterwards. He startled, in a bit of a panic. “What? Wha’s?”

Two different voices spoke out, one a bit cold and demanding, and the other much more friendly.

“Tanjiro, be still.”

“Hey, don’t worry. You’re gonna be okay.”

It started to click for Tanjiro. “G-Genya? Tokit’?” He started to cough, this time no blood flowing up his throat. He heard shuffling and muttering beside him before he felt his head lifted up and a waterskin pressed to his lips.

“Go slow.” Muichiro instructed. “You need to replenish your fluids, but not too quickly or you’ll be sick.”

Tanjiro struggled mildly to swallow, based on how he was positioned, but the water was cooling and relieving to his scratchy throat. Was I yelling a lot? The tips of his ears burned as he tried to ignore the thought. He pulled himself away from the waterskin. “Thanks. What happened? Am I-”

“You were hurt after the battle with Upper Four.” Muichiro provided a brief synopsis. “And we found this safehouse with Chief Techhin and his son Mr. Gantetsu, and they helped us take care of you. Your fever broke about an hour ago.”

“Oh. Are they-” Tanjiro glanced around the room for the other occupants and noticed checkered green and black in his peripheral vision. So that was the “blanket” he was feeling. “My haori. Don’t thin’ I had it in the fight.”

“Yeah, I found it out in the forest while I was escorting Chief Tecchin and Mr. Gantetsu back to the village.” Genya explained. “It’s not in the best shape or anything, but definitely mendable.”

Tanjiro wasn’t concerned, merely glad to have the clothing back that his mother had repaired for him countless times in the past. “Thank you very much.”

“Yeah, no problem. It’s the least I could do.” Genya’s face fell.

Tanjiro didn’t quite catch the insinuation in Genya’s voice. “You said I was hurt? I don’ remember? I though’ I defeated Upper Four?”

“You did, Tanjiro. You defeated the Upper Rank.” And then Muichiro closed his mouth. The rest was definitely Genya’s tale to tell.

Genya was anxiously wringing his hands in his lap before he finally admitted, “Well, uhm, I accidentally shot you, Tanjiro.” He paused, only to let it sink in for the Sun Breather, before continuing. “And I’m so so sorry. I had no idea that that demon I saw was Nezuko, and that she wasn’t a threat, and that she was your sister.”

While initially surprised at Genya’s confession, Tanjiro’s heart fluttered when his sister’s safety was mentioned. He looked around the room once more, noticing Nezuko’s box in the corner. “Iss she in there? Is she okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, she’s fine.” Genya was quick to placate. He should have known that Nezuko was going to be Tanjiro’s first priority, one he learned what had happened. “You jumped in front of her, hence why you got shot.”

Tanjiro relaxed back to the floor, completely content, and spent. “Oh, well then, I guess everything’s okay.”

“It’s not okay, idiot!” Genya’s temper flared. “I shot you!”

“Genya, stop shouting.” Muichiro could tell that Tanjiro was starting to fall back asleep; he wanted to get more fluids into him beforehand. He reintroduced the waterskin to Tanjiro’s mouth. “Drink.”

Tanjiro barely took two more swallows before pulling his face from Muichiro’s grip and lowering it to the pillow. “Iss ‘kay, Genya. I f-forgive you.” He smiled weakly.

“Huh?” Genya’s tense expression softened.

“Said ‘I for’ive you.” Tanjiro reiterated. “An’ thank you both fer helpin’ me through all tha’.”

And the Sun Breather left the events proceeding his injury at that, unconsciousness pulling him away.

Genya sat back dumbfounded while Muichiro carefully repositioned Tanjiro’s haori.

The Shinazugawa had been expecting to have to grovel and beg Tanjiro to understand how much he regretted what he had done. He was also anticipating some sort of grudge, or maybe even the Sun Breather denouncing him, like his older brother had done to him. “I don’t get how he just lets go of things so easily. I could have killed him. I could have killed Nezuko.”

“But you didn’t. And that’s all that matters to him. He never bothers to think about what could have been.” Muichiro explained. “I can’t say that I would react the same. You’re lucky he’s alive.” Or you’d be dead three times over.

“I know, I know. And I’ll do whatever it takes to make it up to him. Not that he’s gonna ask me to.” Genya sighed.

“You can start by helping the swordsmiths build the cart they’re making for Tanjiro, so he can travel back to headquarters safely.” Muichiro pointed out the door. “I’m not sure Tanjiro will accept the gift, but the Chief insisted.”

“Uhm, okay.” Genya glanced down at Tanjiro. He really didn’t want to leave him again; it had been hard enough when he’d had to escort the Chief and Gantetsu back to the village. Muichiro had fervently insisted he go with them, not because they needed the protection in the daytime, when no demons were around, but because the Mist Hashira had wanted space between the gun-wielder and his best friend. “But-”

“I’ll look after him.” Muichiro waved him off. “You go, and maybe then I’ll start considering the possibility of forgiving you.”

Genya smiled. It was a start.