Chapter Text
Heavy panting could be heard as a figure made their way forward, stumbling as they did so through the bloodstained home. Seeing the front door, the unknown person took a shaky step forward crossing the threshold. A pale, bloodstained hand grasping on to the splintered remains of the door frame for support. Blood seeped out from their middle and from various wounds on their body.
The figure revealed themselves to be a pale-skinned man with blood covering the left half of his face from his brow to his jaw. Black hair was now matted with blood and sweat, the tips seemingly drenched in the red liquid.
Gritting his teeth against the pain, the man's remaining dark blue eye was clouded over with shock as he gripped the hilt of his broken katana for dear life.
'How? How did I survive?!' The man thought hysterically, forcing himself to take a few more steps forward towards a figure lying in a pool of crimson-red blood, a stark contrast to the snow around them. 'Even though I arrived half a day early... it wasn't enough! I'm still the only one who survived... I survived an encounter with him!'
He collapsed to his knees beside the motionless figure, revealed to be a woman, her chest and back gushing with a never-ending torrent of blood. Vaguely, the man realized that even in death, the woman clutched onto her infant with lifeless, cold hands.
Bringing a hand to his mouth, he coughed up a hand full of blood. Wiping his bloodstained hand on the snow he examined the infant in the dead woman's arms. His visible dark blue eye widened in shock as his body shook with pain. There staring back at him was a breathing infant, his red eyes filled with life.
'...is this infant the reason I survived?'
He reached out and scooped up the strangely quiet, but still alive human infant swaddled in a bloodstained blanket, dropping the remains of his broken katana onto the snow.
The man then stood and picked up the handle of his katana with his remaining hand. The splintered wood still embedded in his flesh. His remaining vision swam as he stumbled forward a few steps before collapsing onto his left side, gasping for air. His body twitched and thrashed as he held the infant boy close to his chest. Hoping his remaining body heat would allow the child to live a while yet. With his other hand, he clutched his katana hilt, as if it held the remaining shreds of his humanity alongside the infant in his arms.
For the swordsman, it did.
Allowing himself to gaze upwards at the sky one final time, he could just make out a black bird amidst the white snowflakes as they seemingly danced and swirled around the creature. His blood began to pool around his body as he allowed himself one final thought. 'Don't worry, Tanjiro...' He coughed up another mouthful of blood. 'I won't give in to my desires! I'll make sure he pays for everything he's done! Starting by learning the legacy he tried to destroy and protecting you.' Tanjiro, the infant boy, looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes.
"... I vow it upon my name..." The man rasped before unconsciousness, and the demonic blood flowing through his veins claimed him.
The storm increased its speed as the swordsman held the infant close. A pool of crimson-red blood surrounded the pair as the winter storm continued its onslaught upon the land, uncaring of the lives that remained in the once joyous home.
Half a day earlier
On the outskirts of the village of Shin seikatsu
A figure walked towards the base of a mountain village. The path was well used, meaning a good few travelers came this way. The snow beneath their sandals could be heard through the silence of the path. Currently, no travelers appear to have passed by recently. However, they could not have survived for as long as they did simply by sheer luck.
The figure was revealed to be a pale skinned young man standing at 5'9" with medium-length, messy black hair tied back into a low ponytail, thin eyebrows and sharp, dark blue eyes.
Currently his expression was blank as he paused to look upwards, noting a black bird off in the distance. He let out a sigh of relief through his nose and continued forward.
‘Good,' Thought the stranger. 'he won't be spotted if things get out of hand.'
The strangers clothing, consisted of a dark cyan-tinted version of the standardized uniform for his occupation with buttoned white leg-wrapped kyahan, a pair of white zōri with dark blue straps and tabi socks. Underneath being the same cyan color as his uniform. Over this, the man wore a haori that was split down the middle into two different patterns: the right one a solid red, and the left one geometrically patterned with squares of green, orange, and yellow.
The haori held another purpose aside from keeping the man warm. It concealed a sword, known as Nichirin blades, to himself and his other colleagues...
The katana's blade was shaded a dark blue, the tsuba being a hexagonal shape with a bronze core and an overlapping red border. The scabbard being a black color. Carved on the side of the Nichirin blade, were the words, 'Destroy Demons.'
(‘My life is filled with regrets, and I can't seem to move on from my past. However, I continue to fight for the memory's of those I've lost. For those people stronger than me who gave their lives to protect me. It is never easy, and the pain never leaves you. The sun has to rise and set at some point, as does the moon. The ocean is always shifting and changing.’)
The man paused outside the small village to secure his blade, making sure it was out of sight of any unwanted prying eyes. He entered the village, taking a deep breath to prepare himself for the, hopefully not awkward, conversations he would have later.
('And... whenever lives change, it's always followed by the smell of blood.')
His eyes took in the area, silently observing as he effortlessly moved through the crowd, almost as if he were flowing through water. It must've been a typical day for the people of this small village. He continued with his observations, silently taking note of the few hiding places and how close the houses were to one another.
'I'll be able to use the rooftops to get around faster.' He mused. 'There are few hiding places here... But it doesn't mean the demon can't take on a human disguise.'
The villagers bustled about, either talking to friends or relatives or going about their daily chores. A few curious glances were given at the stranger dressed in even stranger clothing. It wasn't uncommon to see travelers passing through, however, it was rare to see two strangers passing through their village on the same day.
A few wondered if the two men knew each other, while others, mostly Village girls without a significant other, looked at the stranger with interest, and still others wondered if the man would stay long or become a permanent resident. The black haired man noticed the looks and brushed them aside. He needed to not make direct eye contact with anyone...
As he moved forward, looking for a place to stay until nightfall, he made the mistake of looking out of the corner of his eye. Among the bustling villagers surrounding her was a woman with jasmine green eyes and long, waist length black hair, seemingly unfazed by the small crowd surrounding her.
He stared for a time before memories that had been buried for six years surfaced. They crashed through the carefully constructed walls surrounding his heart, beating at them mercilessly until, finally breaking through.
A black haired girl of a short stature, who possessed gentle eyes of a deep cyan color, their pupils rectangular and white, that were a notably paler turquoise near the bottom, looked at him. Her eyes were dancing with laughter and a hidden emotion for the person standing next to her. A boy with thick, spiked, peach-colored hair. kind, cat-like eyes of a grayish lavender color, a horizontal bar of much paler purple visible across them near the bottom, glanced briefly at the girl, the same emotion hiding deep within. The pair wearing fox masks, flashed before his mind's eye. Their eyes and hair were the only other visible features amidst the darkness that surrounded them.
Heart heavy with regret, his piercing, dark-blue eyes glazed over with memories as he moved.
His thoughts sounded distant as he took another step. 'They're dead because of me.' A young girl bumped into him and apologized before running to catch up with her mother. 'Why couldn't I be born with a stronger body? A stronger mind? Maybe I could've helped him... Perhaps I could've convinced her to wait another year before going...' He stepped aside and bumped into yet another pedestrian, this one a man with graying brown hair. 'I hate them... Demons took my sister... But do I really hate them?'
Absently, the black-haired man walked through the crowded streets and made his way towards a mostly secluded stall. Sitting down in the snow beside it, his back was pressed firmly against the wooden structure of a house. He placed an elbow between his knees, his cheek against the palm of his hand, and sat there.
To keep his mind somewhat active and on alert, he began to repeat a familiar saying. 'Nothing is softer or more flexible than water, yet nothing can resist it. Nothing is softer or more flexible than water, yet nothing can resist it.'
The saying was comforting to him, it felt like he was closer to his beloved older sister and that of their families deity, Suijin.
After a time of gazing listlessly upward at the sky and silently repeating the saying in his mind, the man turned his attention towards another area. Slowly, the dark blue-eyed man realized that the crow from earlier was looking at him from his perch on the roof across the street.
The crow stared back, blinking occasionally, trying to convey its worry through its dark eyes. Usually the crow would allow its master to regain some semblance of control over his emotions and thoughts, but there was no time. It had lived a long life; it could tell from just flying towards this area and from the past few days that this was no ordinary demon they were hunting. The air around this village hummed with a demonic presence that only a select few could detect outside of its specific species and the Demon Slayers.
'Master... Please...' urged the black-feathered bird, with an undertone of worry.
Allowing himself to gaze at the crow, the black haired stranger eventually gathered himself together. He was still rattled by his spiraling thoughts and by the possibilities of what could've happened if... A demon had attacked any of the villagers while he was in that state. It was daytime, but with the clouds obscuring the sun, a demon could easily take advantage and devour as many people as possible before any light broke through the clouds.
Glancing down at his uniform, he let out a quiet huff. This uniform was a constant reminder of... his unworthiness. Or at least that's what he had begun to tell himself every so often. He knew that with the high rank he held—not that he felt deserving of it—he needed to get information, but interacting with people was starting to get harder.
After receiving his sword, deciding to isolate himself from his fellow colleagues seemed like a great idea at the time.
After... after that day... six years ago...
Now he wasn't so sure what his 13-year-old self had been thinking! Closing himself off had been an easy, but terrible, idea! Opening himself up was going to be hard. From what he'd been up to for the past six days, it was beginning to seem very unlikely that he would get the chance.
Clenching his jaw, his dark-blue-eyes reverted to their now-partially, sad, unsure, wary gaze. Standing, he looked around, wondering if he should go back towards the crowded town center, as his eyes drifted in that particular direction. Or whether he should keep looking for a place to stay until nightfall.
The vendor gave the young man a sidelong look. From what the young carpenter could tell, this man was looking for something; he just wasn't sure what. Following the raven-haired man's line of sight, the carpenter grimaced. The way this stranger had walked was very similar to a friend he had made while helping to repair his secluded home.
True, he should not bother with this stranger, but there was something different about him. He knew that look; it was of someone who'd lost much but was too afraid to get close. Less that someone he sought help from... died.
The carpenter always listened to his friend, old Saburo, whenever he paid a visit. The older told of his past and how his family was killed by a demon. Stories of man-eating demons prowling around late at night and swordsmen who found themselves in one way or another in the role of demon slayers, hunting them down and protecting innocent humans.
He hadn't judged, at least not while in the man's presence.
It all seemed like a fantasy, but now with the rumors going around about strange creatures being spotted at night near the outskirts of city districts, he wasn't so sure.
The young, copper-haired man let out a quiet gust of air from his mouth, smiling. He knew what he could do for this stranger. He'd drag the black-haired man up the mountain to Saburo's home if he refused.
"Looks like I'll be taking old Saburo up on his favor for me after all." He told himself, making his way out of his stall and towards the shorter male.
The dark-blue-eyed man turned, sensing a presence behind him, and met the taller's gaze. After many years in his occupation, one could never be too careful.
Or paranoid.
"Can I... help you?"
Feeling uncomfortable, the carpenter coughed into his hand before explaining himself. "Yes, I know a friend who lives by himself further up the mountain. He might be able to help you." As he spoke the carpenters' eyes were drawn to the stranger's military-style uniform.
Raising an eyebrow, the raven haired man glanced to the side, the crow from earlier was nearby, waiting to take off and follow. Turning his attention to the matter at hand, he began to think. The smaller man had a feeling this villager before him was speaking the truth. His stomach twisted in uncomfortable knots. Churning with the ever-growing familiar feeling of guilt as memories of the past surfaced.
He could see it now—a scared little boy with black hair hunched over in a fetal position within a closet. His hands were over his ears, trying to block out the sound of his sister's dying screams, but the sounds of bones being cracked could still be heard.
Two boys, one of them the same black haired child as before, were wearing a solid red hori, his eyes looking distant as he gripped his sword. Beside him stood another boy wearing a geometrically patterned hori with squares of green, orange, and yellow. His features were obscured by shadows as he stood with his own Katana, ready to strike at a moment's notice. Demons surrounded the pair, and the second boy braced himself to defend the nonresponsive, dark-eyed 13-year-old as a demon launched itself forward.
The same 13-year old boy with dark blue unfocused eyes was walking through a demon-infested forest, paying no heed to the demons giving him a wide berth as he clutched the remains of the other boy's geometrically patterned hori in one hand. The boy could then be seen slowly walking towards a light lavender glow up ahead as his sword dragged behind him, unaware of a petite foot taking a step forward before retreating back into the forest.
If he hadn't been hiding like a coward... if he had reacted and the strange tugging sensation hadn't distracted him... if he wasn't a human... maybe if he was a de-
'NO!' He screamed, a large part of his mind reeling from the thought and a small part of his subconscious filling with the odd tugging sensation once again. 'Oneesan, she-she wouldn't want me thinking this way!' He clenched his teeth to the point where he was sure he would injure his jaw. The pale-skinned man returned to his previous thoughts to distract himself, for the meantime.
'A demon will devour anyone, preferably if they are alone or wandering late at night in the woods.' His gaze drifted towards the mountain. 'Is there anyone else living on that Mountain?'
His developing senses hadn't failed him, not ever since... their deaths. He was willing to trust them again, if only to save at least one life from being lost.
The pale skinned young man gestured up the mountain and gave a brief nod. "Take me to this friend of yours... please."
He didn't like the idea of dragging an innocent person along, not knowing of demons, but what other choice did he have? He could always ask this man to return to the village, once they reached his friends home.
Smiling, the carpenter closed up his stand packing up for the meantime. Once all was said and done the pair began to make their way up. The taller man couldn't help, but glance every so often at the strangers clothing. Remembering a vivid description of the Demon Slayer uniform Saburo had mentioned in one of his stories.
'Could this...kid really be a Demon Slayer?' He shook his head. 'Impossible... Right? He looks younger than me...'
Meanwhile, the man beside him had other thoughts as the pair neared the secluded home. Pale lips curled down into a subtle frown, piercing ocean blue eyes narrowed a fraction, and his hand itched to grab his Nichirin blade. Restraining himself, knowing he had an innocent man, the swordsman continued onward. Willing himself not to run up the mountain as the air around them grew heavier, signifying a powerful demon's presence.
Once reaching old Saburo's home, the carpenter took a moment to gaze up towards the Kamados residence. There was something in the air today. The carpenter might've been young, but even he could tell something... Was going to happen.
Silent as a shadow the crow landed on a nearby branch watching the pair.
"Er, is... Everything... all right?"
Feeling foolish for forgetting his traveling companions presents the carpenter shrugged, trying to hide his unease. By the way the man looked at him, the taller male had failed miserably. Resigned, the carpenter was about to explain himself, when the door before them opened.
Standing in the doorway was a man with curbed hair, an oblong forehead and sharp brown eyes with no distinct pupils.
The black-haired swordsman's muscles tensed a fraction, the other men unaware. 'There's another demon here. How did I not sense it until now?' He wondered taking a quick whiff of the air and smelling wisteria incense. 'The overwhelming scent of wisteria alone should've driven it off, there was only one demon spotted in the area not two.'
As the two men spoke, he felt the same strange tugging sensation whenever he was near a demon except it was pulling him in two different directions. One further up the mountain, while the other was in front of him. Inwardly grimacing, the man focused back on the conversation.
"Takuto," Saburo greeted.
The carpenter, Takuto, smiled cheerfully. "Hello old Saburo, it's high time I take you up on your offer. I brought a guest to meet you."
"Thank you..." Murmured the older male. "I suggest you go back down the mountain, there's a storm coming. Wouldn't want you to get lost, now would we?"
Takuto was about to open his mouth to protest and give Saburo a list of reasons why he should be here, but one look at the older man's no-nonsense expression shut him up.
Meanwhile the swordsman's lips twitched, his dark blue eyes filled with understanding for the hidden meaning.
Turning, Takuto began to walk down the mountain, but not before turning around and waving at the pair. "Good luck, Samurai! I hope you find what you're looking for!"
Takuto then turned walking down the mountain, missing the black-haired man's eyes widening ever so in confusion. Takuto had decided to keep his suspicions to himself. Even if this stranger was a demon slayer, it was very unlikely that their paths would cross again.
After Takuto was lost to site, the black-haired swordsman turned to face Saburo. He didn't want to alarm the older man less he was oblivious of the demons presence. He didn't want to create more graves this evening.
'The demon isn't strong. I'll be able to overpower them. If the demon isn't hiding they're raw-' He mused, forcing himself to ignore the tugging sensation that grew stronger with every passing minute. 'Wait! Is that blo-'
Saburo cleared his throat, stepped aside, and offered for the swordsman to enter. Still pondering on his interrupted thoughts, the black-haired man entered, his senses on high alert for the demon while also quietly taking notes of the wisteria incense on either side of the entrance.
He looked around the small home while Saburo prepared tea.
The main living area took up a majority of the home, a small fire pit in the center, while off to the side there was a door leading into what the swordsman assumed was the man's bedroom. Currently it was opened halfway, allowing the light from the now crackling fire to be let in. Placing the tea pot over the fire, Saburo stood and walked towards the door.
Turning to the swordsman, Saburo placed a finger over his lips, asking for him to be quiet. Giving a simple nod in response, Saburo then gestured for the black-haired man to come over. Hesitating for a moment, he did so and peered inside.
The room was bare, say for a travelers sack, a well worn empty kate-bukuro, and something else hidden behind the sack, filled with what he assumed to be spare clothing. Across the room was a desk, and in the center was a boy.
His pale skin shined with sweat while his black hair cut in a blunt bob, and the fringe that covered his eyebrows clung to his exposed skin. Currently the child was lying on a futon, wearing a simple white yukata with a blanket covering most of his small body. His eyes were closed, and he seemed to be in pain.
As if to prove his point, the child let out a low moan before turning his face away from the two men. His sharp blue eyes then caught a movement. One of the boys hands had twitched, and he looked more carefully at what the boy was clutching.
It was a cloth rag covered in patches of red. 'That's where the smell of blood came from.'
The swordsman gave a questioning look at the older man, wanting answers. 'A demon's blood art that can make a person severely ill is likely. This must be the reason I sensed a demonic presence around Saburo's home.'
Catching the others dark blue gaze, Saburo nodded as he quietly walked towards the table, where he picked up a small box. "The boy came to me three nights ago, before you arrived. He looked deeply troubled."
Suddenly his vision began to blur as a stabbing pain followed by a harsh wrenching sensation filled his mind.
'Dammit!' The swordsman cried, his breathing the only thing keeping him upright.
Blinking away tears, he saw through his blurry vision the boy's head turning in his direction. For a moment, the boy seemed to have opened his eyes halfway before closing them.
For just one moment he could've sworn the boy's eyes briefly glowed with a Kanji number!
Staring at the boys now sleeping form the searing pain began to fade.
Box in hand Saburo turned in time to see the man blinking away tears and leaning against the door frame looking a shade or too paler.
Concerned, he walked over and murmured. "Are you all right?"
The swordsman shrugged, his black hair obscuring his dark blue eyes. "...Did he tell you what troubled him?"
The strange swordsman knew he had just dodged a bullet and it would come back to bite him, but for now he needed to get information. His health wasn't important at the moment, it was the mission and the lives he needed to save.
He had spent not much time in this kind man's home, but he really did not want to dig this man's grave tonight, or anyone else's for that matter.
Saburo began to reach out, wanting to comfort the young man, but at the sight of the older man's hand coming to rest on his shoulder, he tensed. Noticing this Saburo paused before allowing his arm to fall to his side.
After a pause he responded if a bit uncomfortably. "Er... No, I'm afraid not."
"... I see."
Soon enough the room became awkward with the two men standing in the doorway looking at one another. Needing to break the silence and feeling as if he were suffocating, he coughed.
"Ahhem... Why don't we continue this conversation over tea." He suggested.
Expression neutral, the swordsman gave a brief nod and stepped aside, allowing Saburo to pass. Inwardly, he was relieved for the change of subject. He was unsure of how much of his past he could relive today.
Saburo made his way out of the room fallowed by the swordsman and closed the door completely, allowing the boy some privacy and rest.
The black-haired man looked back at the closed door, his dark blue gaze lingering for a few seconds longer before kneeling down across from Saburo.
'Why am I even a pillar? I don't even deserve to be called a Hashira; it should've been him!' He was feeling the weight of his mental breakdown from earlier and the mission weighing heavily on his shoulders.
He absently unsheathed his katana from its scabbard, beginning to look over its dark blue surface. The firelight dancing across the smooth surface of the blade gave it an almost ethereal glow as the blade came to a point.
To most outsiders, his expression remained neutral, but on the inside, he was filled with melancholy. The day he received his Katana was the day he left his master behind. Never seeing him in person in almost 6 years.
Noticing the swordsman examining his blade and the distant look in his eyes allowed Saburo to open the box and safely place a fresh-looking blue lily within one of the tea cups. When the swordsman glanced up at him briefly, he was in the process of placing some common tea leaves into his own cup before pouring warm water into each one.
Waiting until the tea had cooled down and to make certain the flower had fully dissolve within the hot liquid, Saburo cleared his throat, he handed the cup over to the swordsman, who took it without a word after sheathing his blade.
“Thank you Suijin." He reverently murmured into the cup thanking his families deity.
Taking another sip, he looked over the rim of the cup at Saburo.
Placing his own cup down, the older man saw the question in his eyes. "He was very quiet during these three days, but just today, out of nowhere, he collapsed."
"Did you feel uneasy before or during?"
He shook his head in response. "No, I did not pay much attention. I was more concerned with the boys health." Saburo trailed off, glancing at the door behind the swordsman before continuing to speak with a voice filled with concern and worry. "When I asked him if he wanted a doctor, the boy adamantly refused."
Still drinking the tea, he eventually asked. "Why?"
"He told me to get him a special medicine that he carried with him at all times before falling unconscious. " Saburo explained. "The rest i'm sure you can piece together."
Intern the swordsman raised an eyebrow. 'So it seems he was prepared, that's good to hear.'
The older man looked as if he were about to say something, but just then the hairs on the back of his neck rose, and a familiar six cents kicked in.
'Hell!' cursed the swordsman.
A sudden heavy demonic aura filled the air, making Saburo tense before hunching over in pain. Meanwhile the black-haired swordsman blinked as if unbothered by the demonic aura.
"W-Wha-!" Was all Saburo managed to choke out.
With features shifting in a barely perceptible grimace, the swordsman stood with his hand already on the hilt of his Nichirin blade.
Fighting against the urge to collapse, he managed to get out. "...I'm sorry... But I have to go."
"What...i-is...yo-you-"
Sparing Saburo a glance over his shoulder, he said six words before opening the door, the beginnings of a winter storm enveloping him like a spirit before it closed. The room was silent and still, as if the swordsman were never there. His voice echoing in the silent home.
"...Giyu Tomioka, the fake Water Hashira..."