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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..."

Chapter Text

Giyu gripped the hilt of his Nichirin blade as he began to run up the mountain. The winter snow bit at his exposed skin, but he paid it no mind as he began to breathe.

'Total concentration breathing.'

"CRA! Follow quickly! Possibility of the demon being a Twelve Kizuki! Very high!" Cried his Kasugai crow as he flew above.

The fake water Hashira's speed began to steadily increase until only a blue blur could be seen. Snow flew on either side of the slayer, the demonic aura filling his lungs as he neared his destination. Heart heavy with anticipation and the fear of being too late yet again, Giyu Tomioka pushed himself to run faster.

As his heart continued to beat within his chest, he was unaware of a steady increase in a blue substance mixing within his blood and his body.

Meanwhile in the Kamado residence

A tall, muscular man, standing at 5'10" with an unnaturally pale complexion, stood before a human. His appearance was made more threatening by the shadows cast on his frame by the weakened light from the various holes scattered about the bloodstained home. Currently, his curly black hair is covered by a white fedora with a red ribbon. His sharp, plum-red, cat-like, almond-shaped eyes gazed down at the human with carefully concealed contempt. His sharp, blue nails twitched, stained with blood, eager to devour this human with that man's earrings!

Half sitting and half leaning against the wall, blood dripping down his mouth was a frail man with black hair tipped with red, calm red eyes, and a pale skin complexion. 

He gazed calmly at the finely dressed demon, wearing an outfit consisting of an embroidered black tuxedo and a white tie over a black dress shirt and white dress pants with black loafers. To the untrained eye, this supposed man would've appeared to be in his 20s, but Tanjuro knew better.

"...You will create your own downfall." He breathed. " and we will die, but in many ways history will repeat itself." 

Muzan did not care for what this dying human had to say. His only goal right now was to dispose of this family and that man's legacy. The demon king had already taken care of the human woman when she tried to escape while he was busy dealing with the human in front of him. No doubt the human infant would die from the freezing cold weather out side once her corpse could no longer provide any warmth. 

'That pesky slayer is no doubt still following me.' He mused an idea forming in his mind. 'Oh yes, I know exactly what I'm going to do with you, but first let's place our future guest under... A false sense of security.'

Turning his back on the dying human, he walked out of the room and towards a section of the house that was covered in shadows. Allowing for his demonic aura to remain, Muzan hid his presence within the household and waited.

It would not be long before he would destroy the remaining shreds of his existence from this world.

kie knew she was dying. 

It wasn't something she wanted to think about during her final moments, but it was their looming over her like an unwanted guest.

Grimacing at the pain coursing through her body, Kie remembered.

Kie had her back against the wall, eyes wide, as she bore witness to what could only be described as a bloodbath. She clutched a hatchet in one hand, and in the other, she held her son.

Tanjuro and... This monster fought one another, their figures nothing more than blurs against the winter landscape. Red dots dotted the white snow from the limbs her husband managed to cut off. Truly, it was something to behold; if there was another way to describe the fighting raging on outside, it would be a dance. It was not the dance of lovers, friends, or family; rather, it was a dance of life and death. Beautiful, but dangerous in a way only a fight with a demon could create.

Holding her son close to her chest, Kie waited for an opening, hoping this demon wouldn't notice her as she fled to safety. However, by the looks of it, it seemed the battle was getting closer to her current position.

Grim, but nonetheless determined to protect her son, Kie clutched the hatchet with her free hand. Bracing herself to run and making sure her infant son was cradled securely against her chest, Kie nodded. This was the most prepared she would ever be for facing up against... a demon.

Creeping forward towards the front door and mindful of the holes from earlier, Kie took a quick glance outside. Swallowing her scream of fear for her husband's safety and seeing the fight up close, she retreated. She wasn't convinced her husband could hold out for much longer, despite witnessing him dance from sunset to sunrise without stopping.

A single tear fell down her cheek as she braced herself to run out of the gaping opening that was once their front door. 'I knew what I was getting myself into when I married you, Tanjuro. I  wouldn't have changed anything...'

Looking down at her son, Kie gave him the warmest smile she could muster before running out into the freezing cold and the chaos that awaited her.

The black haired woman knew she wasn't properly dressed for the winter weather. From her purple and cream checkered kimono over her simple white yukata to her bare feet that brushed against the freezing snow. It felt like a thousand knives were poking at her skin with each step. Somewhere not far off from where she was, Kie could hear the demon yelling at her husband, but the words she heard didn't make any sense.

"You may look like him, but you're far slower than he was! I'll make sure to finish his bloodline off once. And. For. All!"

Shaking her head, Kie pushed on. She had to focus on protecting her son. Whatever this demon was saying, it did not matter to her.

'Protect Tanjiro, protect Tanjiro.' She repeated it over and over in her mind like a mantra.

Kies dark purple eyes that had a lighter color around the rims of their irises, filled with hope. The tree line was up ahead, they would make it. Even if her beloved husband died, his sacrifice wouldn't be for nothing. 

Unfortunately, fate was not on Kies side at that moment. Just then, the demon had stopped speaking, and a sudden heavy wave of... something filled the air. Kie might've known a fair bit about demons, but this was unfamiliar to her.

Eyes wide with shock, Kie collapsed to her knees, struggling for air, feeling as if her lungs were burning from the mere effort. Gripping her infant son close, Kie dropped the hatchet and dug her fingers in the powder white snow. She clawed at the ground, trying to find leverage. She needed to get up, she needed to move, but the air in her lungs was unbearable. It was like an animal was trying to climb its way out of her chest and into the outside world.

Struggling to her knees, she blindly reached out and felt for the hatchet. Having a death grip on her only weapon, she leaned against the hatchet for support. Her entire body shook as she struggled to her feet, feeling the heavy air around her. It was unbearable to stand, but she had to move!

Putting one foot in front of the other, Kie made her way towards the woods. To her horror, Tanjiro began to cry, his tiny limbs struggling to get himself out of the blanket. Was it the air around them? Or was it something else? Kie knew she should keep going and get as much distance as possible from the demon and herself, but she was routed to the spot, unable to move. An indescribable fear was coursing through her entire being as her instincts screamed at her to run!

Thud! Crack!

Kies face lost all its color as she looked down and saw an appendage sticking out of her chest, blood flying everywhere, and staining her son's blanket. Craning her neck, she saw that it was one of the demon's appendages that had struck from behind. Turning her attention back on Tanjiro, she saw that her son was looking up at her. 

Slowly, the shock disappeared, replaced by reality. His blanket was covered in her blood—his mother's blood. Morbid curiosity briefly Took over as she watched the sticky red liquid fall down onto the snow like raindrops.

Eyes shining with shock, and acceptance, Kie nodded once, then fell onto the snowy ground, her hand losing its vice-like grip on the hatchet.

Coming back from the memory, Kie bit down hard on her lower lip, trying not to draw more blood and possibly upset her son further.

Oh Kami, her son

She would never get to see her son grow up; she would never see his first steps, his first words, or many other things she should've enjoyed in her life. Her and Tanjuro had been discussing the possibility of having more children, but even that would not be a reality.

Looking down at her strangely quiet son, Kie could not help but feel a few tears streaming down her face. 'Will you even survive Tanjiro?' Shaking away the unwanted thoughts, Kie began to pray to Hinokami.'Please... Hinokami, don't let my son die... Please let him find a family... Happiness... please Hinokami...'

Kie Kamado watched the snowflakes fall from the sky as she lay on her side in the snow, her chest and back soaked in blood, with her son held away from the red liquid. Her vision began to grow dim, and for a moment, the world was still. 

Then there stood the outline of a man with his back to her. From what she could see, he was a tall man with long hair tied into a ponytail. The man looked over his shoulder, his upper features covered in shadows. His mouth curled into a sad smile. His hanafuda earrings—the exact same as Tanjiro's—suede caught in an invisible wind.

"I'm sorry... Do not fear. Your son will be safe. I failed in killing him, and you paid the price for my mistakes." He said, voice filled with regret and sadness, but also kindness. "He will protect your son... He will have my sad eyes," he said, giving a soft laugh with fondness and love in his voice before the wind picked up and the sounds around her returned.

"Hmph, they were right as always..." 

Time passed, the fighting faded into the background and her breathing became shallower as her eyes grew heavy. She couldn't die, not before seeing the person who would protect her son.

Using what strength she had left, Kie opened her eyes to see a figure appear in a swirl of powder white snow flying on either side of him. He seemed to hesitate before turning and meeting her eyes.

Kie smiled, her tears and blood mixing in the snow as she gazed into deep blue eyes filled with a weary sadness.  Holding his gaze, Kie forced herself to nod in the direction of her son.

Once the man's eyes shifted, Kie Kamado breathed her last with a smile on her face, eyes still open, as the bittersweet relief of death claimed her.

When Giyu arrives, he can feel the demonic aura filling the air, thick with the smell of death and bloodlust.

He wants to finish this mission; he doesn't want to see more deaths or families ripped apart, but he knows he isn't that lucky. When he looks into the woman's eyes—a mother—he realizes it a moment later when she nods in the direction of her arms. He looks and sees an infant, his blanket stained red. When he looks again to ask the mother what happened, she is dead, her eyes still open, and she has a smile on her face.

"Tsutako..." he breathes, his voice raw with emotion.

He blinks, and the woman is replaced by a mangled female corpse. Black hair like a halo stained red, dark blue eyes open, and red covering the floor. He blinks again, and he's back in the forest.

He will have to dig graves tonight and find this infant a home. 'If he doesn't die from hypothermia or is devoured by the demon on his way out, Tomioka.' A little voice, sounding suspiciously like Shinobu, tells him.

Kneeling in front of the woman, he reaches out with his trembling hand and closes her eyes, allowing her some dignity. He then looks down at the infant, who looks up at him with wide, innocent eyes.

He lets out a breath through his nose, absently reaching out and trying to wipe away any wet blood from the blanket. After wiping what blood he could, Giyu stood with sad, weary eyes, looking down at the baby with a peculiar flame-like marking on the top right of his forehead.

He reaches down and shifts the blanket, hiding the scar from view.

He walks away from the corpse and infant, blade drawn. His Kasugai crow is hidden, ready to fly at a moment's notice to report on his mission.

The demonic aura surrounds him as he walks cautiously towards the home, taking note of the limbs and blood scattered about the yard.

Giyu clutched the hilt of his weapon until his knuckles turned white. Taking a breath to prepare himself for battle, he makes his way inside the home. The floor and walls are covered in blood, and soft gray light streams in through the holes made in the walls, giving the home an ominous, foreboding atmosphere.

The Water Hashira paused, searching for the demon's presence, but it's aura was all around him, and yet he could not tell where exactly the demon was. Further on edge, Giyu continued forward, following the trail of blood on the wooden floor. All the while, he tries to keep the memories of their deaths and his sister's dead corpse out of his mind.

Stopping out of sight of the open doorway, the black-haired 19-year-old looked around, then he steps inside the room...

And curses his uncle and aunt, who didn't believe him about how his Oneesan died.

The man was wearing an orange and black checkered haori, stained in blood. His skin was pale and sickly looking, blood dripped down his mouth and onto his chin, and his red eyes were calm, but Giyu could see the man's life fading. Never letting go of his blade, he made his way forward, allowing his arm to drop to his side.

Kneeling next to the man, Giyu scanned his body looking for any visible injuries, but there appeared to be none.

Brow creasing in confusion, the Water Hashira's mind flashed back to the front room and its destruction. 'This man should at least have some sort of outer injury. The front room is practically the remains of the fight with a demon, and yet I don't see anything.'

A hand placed on his shoulder snapped him out of his thoughts. Posture going tens from the contact, Giyu forces himself to look up into the man's calm red eyes. The man gives him a warm smile before speaking, his voice calm and gentle despite dying.

"My name is Tanjuro, my wife is Kie... and..." A wet coughing fit interrupted Tanjuro before he continued, unfazed. "My son is Tanjiro... The last to breathe like the sun... For now. I do not know where the other half of defeating Kibutsuji is... However, I do know that one shall take the hand of the tyrant... while the other shall take the hand of the true king..." As he speaks, Tanjuro takes off his earrings. Gazing unwaveringly, he looks deep into Giyu's dark blue, weary, sad eyes.

Giyu doesn't understand what this man, Tanjuro, is telling him, but on hearing Muzan Kibutsujis name, he understands. The black-haired man listens, knowing these words would be the last he would hear from this father who would be leaving his son.

"One who has the calm, deadly grace of water... is blessed by the sun and befriends an offspring of the moon. One who breathes and wears Hanafuda earrings... shall unite demons and humanity." As he finishes, Tanjuro has pricked Giyus earlobes before he can react.

Giyu looked on with eyes filled with regret as Tanjuro closed his eyes. "No..." he whispers, his voice beginning to crack as his hand shakes violently, the blade rattling uncontrollably against the wooden floor.

Tanjuro inhaled and opened his eyes a crack. "You will find everything you need... where I... rest... For the last time..."

The older man reaches out and gently places a hand on his trembling one. Giyu looks up, eyes glistening with unshed tears. He blinks, forcing them away. 'Don't cry, don't cry.' He tells himself.

He can feel the warmth leaving Tanjuros hand. Hands shaking once more, he reached out and wiped the blood from the man's face. He knelt there, body and mind in a deep trance as he stared unblinkingly at Tanjuros lifeless form. 

Giyu wants to scream, but he doesn't. Instead, he whispers. "I'm cursed... Why... Why did you have to die...?" He asks, his voice beginning to lose its monotone after six years and being replaced with raw grief.

Unseen by Giyu, Tanjuros Spirit stood next to him, his red eyes filled with understanding. Turning away from the swordsman, he saw his wife. Kie held out her hand, he took it, and the pair walked towards the doorway. Looking back at the demon slayer with their families hanafuda earrings dangling from his ears, he gives him a reassuring smile despite knowing the young man couldn't see either of them.

Turning, he whispered his final words to the swordsman. "Protect our son... Don't let our legacy die... Live and protect... Don't disrespect ours or anyone else's deaths..."

With those final words, the pair walked toward the doorway once more. As they drew near, a light began to envelop them. Growing with each step the couple took, eventually it swallowed them whole in a burst of white light.

Measured footsteps broke the silence of the home as Giyu knelt beside the lifeless form of Tanjuro. He didn't move from his position as his heart began to pound in his chest. Giyu knows he should do something, but the events and memories of the day began to affect his already fragile control over his mental state. He absently sniffed the air, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. Head bowed, he gripped his blade, the demon's presence making itself known to him. He breathed, raising his sword. The earrings dangled from his earlobes, the weight unfamiliar to him.

"Look at me, Hashira; I'd like to see One of the faces of Ubuyashiki's precious children."

Giyu's sword arm twitched, the tugging sensation barely noticeable against the demonic presence and the sheer power rolling off this demon in waves. He breathed, his heart beginning to quicken, pounding in his chest faster and faster the longer he stayed there, kneeling on the ground before this demon.

As if in a trance, he at last stood, a part of his instincts forcing himself to stand, but instead of meeting the demon's eyes, he focused on the dead eyes of Tanjuro. 

Despite having a powerful demon not more than a few sword strikes away. Giyu continued to stare before a gentle breeze seemed to ruffle his hair. It felt like Tsutako was ruffling his hair, just as she had done when they were younger.

Then a ghostly whisper broke the silence, and a familiar voice spoke in his mind. 'Protect our son... Don't let our legacy die... Live and protect... Don't disrespect ours or anyone else's deaths...'

"Don't disrespect our or anyone else's deaths..." He whispered to himself.

He breathed, his heart racing at unnatural speeds, dark blue eyes glazing over as his left cheek began to tingle. It felt like he was gaining a fever.

Another breath...

Then the calm, clear surface of the ocean within his mind was broken by a drop of water... 

And his drowned emotions rose to the surface to meet the clear blue sky and sun.

Raising his head fully to meet the demon's eyes, his world shifted.

Everything around him felt slow, as if he were swimming through water.

Giyu knew who this demon was. 

There might not have been any records, but there was no mistaking it. This demon was very powerful. He might've been a Twelve Kizuki, but there was no number to signify his rank. Which meant there could only be one demon who would be so bold as to lead Giyu on a six day chase around his district.

Who could easily take on a human disguise and slip through the cracks undetected.

Muzan Kibutsuji 

He raised his blade...

'Water Breathing First Form, Water Surface Slash!’ He mentally cried.

Chapter Text

Muzan had faced many Demons slayers over the centuries before and after him.

But it seems the damned deities were taking absolute pleasure in reminding him of his one and only greatest fear this day.

Even though this slayer, this Hashira, was but a mere shadow when compared to that man, it didn't mean the similarities were there. The red half of the hori, the unrideable expression, and the dimmable godforsaken menaces that were the Hanafuta earrings!

On. Full. Display!

He was mocking him, even after nearly 500 years!

Simmering hatred and fear filling his mind, the demon king unleashed two of his back whips and aimed them at the demon slayer.

As expected, the slayer dodged the first whip appendage before deflecting the second one aimed at his side. Eyes filled with barely concealed rage, the demon king allowed one of his appendages to fill with poison. Faster than the normal human eye could see, the poison filled whips struck the slayer's shoulder before being sliced just as quickly.

Surprised, but unwilling to allow this Hashira to leave this home with his humanity, Muzan continued his attack. Despite attacking continuously with six new back whips and slowly pushing the Hashira into a corner, despite the fact that he slashed the slayer's stomach open with one of his arm whips.

He still stood, blood dripping heavily onto the lower half of the slayer's uniform and onto the floor. 

"...why?" Gasped the slayer.

Muzan gazed at the Hashira with a blank expression. His back whips, pinning the slayer's limbs to the wall. The demon king knew he should proceed with his plan from earlier, but he decided to amuse one of Ubuyashiki's pathetic Hashira.

His long awaited goal of tainting his legacy further was in his reach.

"Do not think talking will get you out of being turned." He stated.

Giyu ignored the demon king, and the next words that slipped from his lips changed his life forever. Not to mention, it was a question he pondered whenever he was alone with his thoughts.

"Why do you have... such disregard for human life." He questioned.

Muzan Kibutsuji froze, eyes wide, his entire being unable to move as the slayer before him flickered out of existence and was replaced with a man, upper features obscured by shadow. He wore a red haori over a very pale orange-colored nagagi kimono with a black umanori-styled hakama, a pair of zōri with red straps, and white tabi socks. A Nichirin sword held in his hand, ready to strike.

Giyu continued to breathe, the world slow as ever for the moment, his cheek continuing to tingle. He decided to ask another question, unaware of his previous and next words history with the demon king before him.

"I see... So tell me, what is the weight of a human life to you?"

Snapping out of his trance, the demon king returned his mind to the present at those words. Fueled by fear and a need to destroy the only human who cost him such fear, Muzan launched himself forward, snarling. "Damn you to hell, Tsugikuni!"

His claws grew in an instant, and before the human could even realize what was happening, blood dripped down the left side of his face. He would destroy them! That man's ghost! The Ubuyashiki's, and the rest of the demon slayer corps.

Giyu breathed, oddly calm, as he watched the demon king rip away half of his vision. Still pinned against the wall, Giyu had the distant sensation of pain. Idly, he wondered where the tugging sensation had gone. It was no longer focused on the demon king, rather, it was focused somewhere off in the distance. But as the blood covered his cheek, the tingling sensation stopped, and he felt something new on his skin. It felt like a forgotten limb he never knew he missed until now, but there was a part of him that still felt... Wrong.

"I'm... Going to... Destroy your legacy... Starting with this family!" He seethed, getting right into Giyu's face. 

Nonetheless, he stared into the demon king's eyes with his remaining one. Through his confused mind, a single thought floated to the surface. 'And... whenever lives change, it's always followed by the smell of blood.'

Muzan could only see, not the demon slayer before him, but the strange man from long ago, his face still obscured by shadow. 

Keeping eye contact Muzan watched with concealed triumph as his face twitched with pain. Caught up in his victory, the demon king didn't notice the excessive amount of blood he was pouring into Giyu's body at that moment. Only later, years from now, would the words from Tanjuro come back to haunt him.

For now, he pulled out two back whips from that man's stomach. Allowing the slayer to drop onto the floor with a thud. The demon king blinked and saw who his enemy was for the first time. It was not the man from his past; rather, it was a weakling of a Hashira whom he had attacked in his brief moment of blind rage.

He needed a new tactic, it wouldn't do for this Hashira to think he had won. Fear and smothering out any hope he may have would be his only options at this moment.

'His fellow slayers will cut him down before he can ever explain himself.'

Kneeling on one knee, he lifted the slayer's chin with his fingers until they were at eye level. "I trust you will take care of the rest before another slayer comes along."

Allowing the demon slayer's face to fall into the pool of his own blood, he stood. For a time, he stared at the Hashira, an unreadable expression on his face. '... I wonder... Where have I seen that shade of blue eyes before? They certainly don't appear to be normal...’

Turning on his heel, his measured footsteps broke through the silence of the home as he made his way out. Frowning at his earlier fear induced actions, Muzan decided to pour salt on the wound. This young slayer before him would finish what he started, and the demon slayer course would be history in a couple of centuries.

"I wonder what your precious master will do when he discovers you have become... a demon. The last things stopping me from achieving my goal shall be wiped from this world." He stated, as if it were a fact that couldn't be argued.

He turned, hand lightly pressed against the door frame, giving the twitching human a smile. "All tha-"

A Nichirin blade struck his shoulder, sending searing pain through the demon king. The blade snapped in two soon after.

Giyu stood there with a now broken sword held in his hand. The water Hashira didn't know how he managed to get up, let alone move so fast, without the demon king noticing him. but... well, he wasn't going to complain.

Neither noticed the blue colored blade turning the faintest hint of bright red before returning to normal.

Enraged at his victory being momentarily interrupted, Muzan struck the demon slayer over the head, sending him flying and hitting the wall. 

Sneering, he turned, dismissed his recent thoughts, reached out for Nakime, and entered the infinity castle. He needed to find the blue spider lily in order to achieve full perfection. He no longer cared if this demon slayer lived or died. As long as he got rid of his legacy, that was all that mattered.

Even though the lingering thought of how familiar his blue eyes were... as if he had briefly glimpsed them somewhere before, far off in his memories.

Muzan let out an inhumane roar before unleashing one of his arm whips to destroy a nearby wall.

Giyu's stomach was on fire. Make that his entire body was on fire.

His vision—what remained of it—was blurry as he reached out with a trembling hand and wiped away the blood from the right side of his forehead. If Giyu was in the right mind and he had stared into a reflective surface, then he would've seen a scar on the upper right side of his head.

'I know I fought Kibutsuji... But everything...' he groaned, allowing his head to fall back against the wooden wall. He could remember the day's events, but anything after today was beginning to draw a blank.

"Fight... Felt... fever... Dream..." He moaned, the pain coursing through his body becoming unbearable. Giyu knew his encounter with the demon king wasn't a fever dream. His stomach wound, broken ribs, and other injuries were proof of that.

But, oh Kami, it felt like his cells were being altered and new ones were being added.

Pushing his body to sit up, he forced himself to move. There was a promise he needed to keep, and if there was one thing Giyu Tomioka wouldn't break, it was his final promise to this family and himself.

Standing was a struggle, but he managed and used the wall as support. He staggered through the home, filled with blood and death. The sound of his blood roaring in his ears was his only company, aside from his breathing.

His heart pounded in his chest, and his blood and the blue substance slowed the unwanted cells coursing through his body. The 19-year-old was unaware of his hair gaining red tips. Or any of the other changes, both dormant and new, happening to his body.

He continued to stumble forward, forcing his body to move towards the outside world, where a human infant waited for him.

Meanwhile

Purple plum eyes stared blankly at the man that now lay on the futon before them. The eyes, revealed to have cat-like slit pupils, turned their blank gaze upwards towards the mountain. 

The figure, revealed to be the boy from earlier, pressed his lips in a thin line. "The pain and the cause of my... Unique illness is gone. Still, I wonder..." Mused the black haired boy, caulking his head to the side, as his eyes glowed briefly with an unnatural, eerie purple light.

He brushed a lock of his black hair behind his ear, absently adjusting one of his silver buttons on his white uniform, the sleeves reminiscent of kimonos. The rest of his outfit consisted of black Hakama, white tabby socks, light purple leg-wrapped kyahan, and black sandals with light purple straps. A black hori completed the look, the inside was white, with the outside having the sleeves and the bottom fading into a light violet purple color. 

A white fawn mask was on the left side of his forehead. The image of wisteria blossoms was painted on the center of its forehead, and the eyes were a dark purple black color. The mouth was painted in a half smile with a black nose, and the inside of the ears were painted a light pink.

Eyes shining with realization, the boy stood and reached down, grabbing his sword tucked securely in his sheath. Strapping the weapon to his side, the boy began to move hurriedly out of the house. Grabbing his traveling sack and looping his kate-bukuro around his neck, he murmured a quiet 'goodbye' before closing the front door behind him.

Placing the fawn mask over his face, The black haired boy began to make his way up the mountain. The snow had let up some, allowing the boy to see clearly. The boy's hand twitched, itching to reach his blade as he reached the halfway point. Pausing, he looked over his shoulder, seeing his tracks fade into the distance, before looking ahead and taking a step forward. This was followed by another, until he collapsed, nearly falling face first into the snow.

The boy's eyes widen behind his mask as he breathes in the demonic aura left on the mountain. Gasping, the black haired boy managed to lift the mask from his mouth to be exposed before coughing up blood.

"Damn... you... Bastard...!" He cried in between fits of coughing.

His limbs shook, attempting to keep his upper body from collapsing. As he spat out handful after handful of blood. Forcing his head upward, he began to breathe in the thin mountain air. Beginning to use total concentration breathing. The boy almost sighed in relief as his lungs began to ease, before remembering the crimson red liquid on the ground. Continuing to use the breathing technique. He reached over and began to grab handfuls of snow, placing them on top of the red  substance. Once there was no more blood to be seen, he stood on shaky legs and placed his mask back on.

Making a split second decision, he lifted his Travelers sack and placed it down on a nearby tree. Opening the sack, he reached in and found a good length of rope. Once tying it around the lowest hanging limb, then his sack he began to move.

He let out a dry laugh after a while of walking. "Hmph, if my ancestor could see me now. I wonder what he'd think if he realized... my secret..."

He paused, seeing a clearing up ahead after a time of silent walking. The demonic aura was not pleasant to breathe in, especially for him. Considering how powerful the demonic aura was and who it belonged to. Letting out a huff, the young boy shook his head silently, reprimanding himself for his earlier words.

'Idiot! Now isn't the time to be bitter and open up old wounds. There was nothing I could've changed. I would've been dead faster than you could say, Master.'  

The strange boy let out a puff of air, watching the small cloud as it disappeared. Continuing to walk forward towards the clearing, he looked up at the sky and noticed a black bird heading down. Curious, and knowing the winter storm had died down by now, he began to quicken his pace. Soon enough, he was running, despite the demonic aura being stronger as he got near.

As he entered the clearing, he stopped, eyes wide behind his mask, whether in shock or disbelief. Only the boy would know. The house was still and quiet, covered in blood, and filled with an all-too-familiar demonic aura. He scanned the clearing and noted two bodies, the nearest one being that of a female.

Letting out a shaky breath, he reached for the hilt of his blade, having a death grip on one of his weapons. He stepped forward, eyes riveted on the home. The boy's hand, not gripping his sword, twitched.

"... It took you this long." Side the boy making his way forward towards one of the bodies.

He knelt in the snow, making sure not to go anywhere near the patch of red. He cocked his head to the side, removing his mask and placing it on the left side of his forehead. Scanning the woman's face, the boy's eyes shined with sadness and another emotion that couldn't be identified.

"Rest... Kamado, you and your husband did well. I hope you understand. I mean no disrespect to you or your husband, but... I can't exactly avoid my upcoming actions. Please do understand." Whispered the boy, bowing his head in apology.

Murmuring a quick prayer, he leapt to his feet and walked towards the other figure. Kneeling down beside the startled crow, he smiled and waited. After a pause, he reached over, plucked the crow from his position near the body, and promptly shoved the bird into his sleeve.

All the while, he knelt there, calm and serene. Ignoring the old crow's protests and the occasional curse word thrown at him. It had been awhile since he had interacted with a crow. 

"...You'll be safe there..." He said absently, his voice distant. 

'I almost pity the bastard.' He forced down a smirk, making sure to keep his face neutral. 'Almost.'

He opened his eyes to a world of white and red. What was he doing here? Where was here? Who was he? Maybe he was... he was... Human, right?

A wave of pain filled his head and back. Sitting up, he threw back his head, letting out a roar, feeling his head gaining a new weight on top of it. Gasping, he reached up, intending to rip off whatever was now growing on his head, but then he noticed two things. He could see dark blue claws; they were small for now, but sharp. The other thing was that he could see out of his left eye.

Then he took further notice of what his clawed hand was holding. It was the remains of a broken katana. The kanji for 'destroy demons' visible on the remains of the blue blade.

"G-giyu..." He rasped, memories of the past few years as a demon slayer slowly filling his mind.

That was his name, he had an older sister who was dead, he was a demon slayer, he had made a promise to this family, and he had fought...

‘EAT!' screamed a voice in his head. 'Kill the infant now! Destroy his legacy!'

‘NO!' He thought back. 'Protect! Live! Don't disrespect their deaths!'

'I said eat!' Ordered the voice.

Giyu let out a defiant snarl, feeling his body's jerky movements. He was being controlled by the man-demon, who left Tanjiro as an orphan. He was a demon—the very thing he was meant to kill. His head jerked, trying to resist the voice's orders, but he could feel saliva dripping from his mouth as it was forcibly lowered towards Tanjiro.

His arms began to tremble, and he realized Tanjiro wasn't protected. He would break his vow of staying alive, of protecting their son, and of not allowing his instincts as a demon to take over. As if to remind him, a flash of a young woman's smiling face appeared. Her smile was kind and gentle.

"You have Sujin's eyes, Yu-Yu." She giggled.

His eyes filled with tears. Tsutako had always said that whenever they would go and pray at their village's small temple.

"Tanjiro..." He bit out through clenched teeth. 

Said infant looked up at him with wide, innocent red eyes. Tears began streaming down his face as his mouth was forcibly opened, but just as he was about to unwillingly do what the voice had told him, a few things happened at once.

His fangs dug into flesh and bone. Blood and saliva flew everywhere as his fangs sank into his hand, which still gripped his broken blade. A black winged appendage made contact with his upper torso, blocking his drooling mouth from Tanjiro. 

"Master Tomioka! Fight it!" Cried an elderly crow flying out of the boy's uniform sleeve and towards his turned master, grabbing a chunk of his ponytail and pulling on it with all of his might.

At the same time, the boy cried out in a mixture of shock, frustration, and exasperation. "What are you—Kasugai crows—wait! Did you say, Tomioka—fuck it—this is going to complicate the next few years—never mind! Wisteria breathing, First form: Purple Pedal Slash!"

The boy charged forward, his tessen fan covering half of his face. Once at the right distance, the boy spun, using the snow to his advantage, and drew out his sword. 

An elegant whirlwind of wisteria petals following his graceful movements all the while.

He unleashed a vertical slash, but Giyu left to his feet and flung his winged appendage out towards the boy. The appendage struck its mark, sending the boy flying into a tree. When the boy's back made contact with the frost-covered wood, his spine made a sickening crack.

Giyu stared, eyes wide. The winged appendage that he had used to protect Tanjiro was now spread out, along with the other appendage, in a defensive manner. Slowly, he released the iron grip that his mouth had on his hand and held the precious human infant closer to his chest.

Blood and saliva coated his mouth as his hand began to regenerate immediately. He stood there, mouth open, in a silent, pleading scream. The old crow had stopped flapping his wings. It now perched hesitantly on one of his master's horns, ready to take off at a moment's notice.

The air was still and silent, as if the world was holding its breath. The demon was unable to take his gaze away from the crumpled form of the child that he had killed. The boy held his sword and fan limply in his hands, his head resting on one of his shoulders, and blood began to drip down from his mouth.

Tears began streaming down his face once again as he continued to stare and silently scream. 

Then his body began to jerk and thrash an agonized scream ripped from his throat as he could feel his body beginning to burn with pain. It felt like his entire body was slowly having his cells destroyed one by one. The elderly crow used the momentum and flew up into the air, circling the clearing below him. As he watched his master suffer.

He fell to his knees, clutching his katana and Tanjiro. Using what strength he had left, he let loose a roar before screaming out his hatred for the one who had turned him and for all the lives lost because of him.

"DAMN YOU, MUZAN KIBUTSUJI! DAMN YOU! DAMN YOU! MUZAN KIBUTSUJI!"

Giyu gasped, feeling as if he were going to truly die this time. Vision beginning to grow dark, the black haired 19-year-old felt his body twitch and thrash. Weather by sheer willpower or luck, he managed to wrap his wings around Tanjiro, protecting him from a majority of the impact.

'You will die for your disobedience! You have served your purpose.' Said the demon king within his mind. voice cold and unforgiving.

Shuttering, the 19-year-old fell into unconsciousness for the second time that day. 

A man appeared soon after in a swirl of snow and dust. He reached out his hand and placed it on top of the demon's head comfortingly.

Giyu opened his eyes and looked around, seeing that he was standing within a Black void. Taking a tentative step forward, he saw the surface he was standing on ripple like water with each tentative step.

After a time of cautiously exploring, he looked up and glared at Muzan standing there, calm and deadly, giving off an aura of indifference.

The demon progenitor walked forward slowly and deliberate as if stalking his prey. 'It seems as though you have chosen my curse instead. Very well, I will kill you, the infant, and the crow.'

His eyes narrowed, fighting the instinct to curl his lips back into a snarl. 'Don't touch Tanjiro or Kanzaburou.' He warned, his voice calm, yet filled with a hidden, dangerous edge.

Giyu tensed his muscles, ready for more pain, but it never came. Instead, he caught a glimpse of a bright red blade aimed for his neck. Instinctively, he closed his eyes and felt the metal sink into flesh as he felt his head be removed from his shoulders.

cautiously, he reached up and felt his neck; it wasn't injured in the slightest. Confused, he turned in the direction of where Muzan stood and stared at his own head being decapitated by the bright red blade. Then his body began turning into ash, followed by his head.

From what he could see, the black haired demon saw a figure behind Muzan—who looked pleased—raise the same bright red blade.

"He has already died, Kibutsuji; his life is over..."

This was followed by a single bright slash across the Demon King's neck and an agonized scream. Giyu closed his eyes from the sudden brightness and raised his hands to cover his ears from the sounds. When he was certain the screams had stopped, he cautiously opened his eyes.

When Giyu opened his eyes, he sat up with a jolt, checking to see if Tanjiro and Kanzaburou were all right. But the human infant was nowhere to be seen; he could only spot his crow standing in the snow nearby, looking worried.

Tentatively, he stretched out his arm, palm up. Hesitating for only a moment, the black Bird hopped onto his palm, and Giyu carefully placed him on his left shoulder.

Staggering to his feet, he picked up his broken katana and looked around frantically before his eyes landed on the boy from earlier, standing perfectly calm. As he held the infant gingerly while watching him. The boy had an opened sack at his feet, along with a smaller sack right next to it. By the looks of it had replaced Tanjiro's blood-stained blanket with a new one.

"... You... All right?" He was stunned to learn that the boy was alive and well.

The boy's purple plum eyes crinkled at the edges, his smile revealing sharp fangs. His eyes glowed with the Kanji number for four before transitioning onto his sleeves. 

The boy looked down, surprised, before chuckling. "Better than expected, Lord Tomioka."

‘Lord?' He wondered before the tugging sensation filled his mind once again. Except now it felt strangely... normal.

The boy walked over and held Tanjiro out to him. The infant was now deeply asleep, oblivious to the world around him. Numbly, Giyu placed the remainder of his Nichirin blade back in its sheath. Then he took the sleeping child into his arms.

"You are... A demon?" He asked, needing to confirm his suspicions. The boy smelled of wisteria, unlike a demon, but there was a demonic aura around him.

‘Yes.' Was the boy's simple response.

Giyu stared, realizing their response was in his mind. He stared at the boy for a long time before asking. "How?"

Giyu could feel the smug delight through the strange link he and the boy shared as he responded. "I have a feeling... More demons like myself... Will help you figure out that answer. Not to mention that left eye of yours should give you an idea."

Kanzaburou squawked in agreement. "Yes, he is right, master. Your eye has changed color."

The 19-year-old frowned, face creasing in thought. It wasn't a straight answer, but he supposed the demon he had a connection to wanted him to figure it out for himself. Giyu had a sneaking suspicion that he wouldn't like the answer at first.

He had a vague idea of what the answer was, but he didn't want to think about it for now. 

The boy then looked to the side and gestured to a patch of upturned dirt. "I already buried them... I also retrieved a few items hidden... In the house." He lifted another smaller travelers sack with one hand before placing it back down on the ground.

The black haired boy then reached into one of his sleeves and handed him two long scraps of neatly folded cloth.

"I figured... The least I could do is offer him something from his parents. It may not be much... But..." He swallowed, rubbing away the tears that were beginning to stream down his face.

He gave the boy a soft, comforting smile, took the fabrics with his free hand, and examined them. His blood froze as he saw the orange and black, along with the white and purple checkered fabric.

They were Tanjiro's and Kie's clothing, or what remained.

"Thank you..." Giyu choked out refusing to cry anymore today. He would cry tomorrow or tonight, but not now.

"...You're welcome..." murmured the boy as he hoisted the larger sack over one shoulder. "We should get going soon... I'll give you some space to say your goodbyes..."

Giyu nodded before asking. "...Where are we going?"

The boy smiled, his dark purple plum eyes filled with determination. "You're wearing the Hanafuta earrings. I don't know what happened... Per say, but if you were given those earrings by the boy's father... Then it must've been for a very good reason."

"Tanjiro put them on me before he died..." he whispered, reaching up and gingerly tracing said earring with a finger.

"Ah..." He said before his face shifted into a blank expression. There's... A breathing style that is able to severely hurt Kibutsuji, to put it lightly. It's the first breathing style ever created, and... My friend told me a story about the first breath user having those very Hanafuta earrings you have on."

Giyu looked on, bewildered. "But... How did this small family..."

"Come to possess the earrings?" He finished shrugging. "That I'm unsure. What I am sure of is that my friend may be willing to take you on as a student."

Giyu's eyes narrowed, flashing with resolve and a fierce determination. "If it means Muzan Kibutsuji will die this generation or the next... but will he accept a demon as a student?"

The black haired boy shrugged, raised an eyebrow, and gestured at the bundle held in his arms. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but you're having a conversation with me and not drooling buckets of rainwater with a defenseless human infant in your arms."

"Oh..." was Giyu's eloquent response. "Then I'm willing to learn this breathing technique."

"Your lungs will explode." He warned, reverting back to caution.

Giyu huffed, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. "Like you said, I'm a demon."

The black haired boy looked thoughtful, tapping his fawn mask before inquiring. "True, but would you be willing to wear a bamboo muzzle and be surrounded by anything wisteria related if necessary?"

The 19-year-old blinked before looking at the boy, Kanzaburou and Tanjiro. "Yes."

"Wonderful!" Cried the boy looking up at the cloudy sky. "Best say your goodbyes... We have to find shelter soon, and I'd rather not draw suspicion by going down the mountain again. Especially in your bloody condition."

Giyu had walked over and knelt down before the graves when the boy had finished speaking. Looking down at his demon slayer uniform, bloody and torn with its golden buttons, he nodded.

Slipping off his hori, he placed it on the ground along with the scraps of cloth and, finally, the sleeping Tanjiro on top. He then removed his uniform, revealing his torn white robe, also stained in blood.

He gazed at the uniform for a long time before standing and placing it on top of the small pile of rocks marking the graves.

He placed a small, heavy rock on top of the uniform before a single tear fell from his right eye. 'Why was I wearing a uniform meant for a Hashira? I... Don't think I would've minded... but... did I ever make any friends... Before I was a demon?' Unbidden tears streamed down his face as he looked down at his uniform blowing gently in the wind. 'Did I...ever honor my sister... Did I ever show kindness?' Giyu shook his head, reaching up, he placed a clenched fist over his heart. 'No... I was alone and... An outcast...even among the strongest!' The demon let out a choked laugh while fighting back a sob. 'It took becoming a demon for me to realize that... No one will miss me... ' He blinked, and an image of a man, his back to him was seen. He had flamelike hair, and laughter could be heard as the shadowed figure began to turn. 

He bowed his head and stayed like that for a good few minutes, silently promising to tell Tanjiro about his parents brave sacrifice. Forcing his tired body to move, he walked towards the boy, picking up Tanjiro and putting his hori back on. Then he walked over to the smaller sack and placed the two pieces of cloth inside before hoisting it over his right shoulder. He nodded to the black haired boy, who gave him a sad smile.

"... Let's go..." Whispered the boy, beginning to walk into the forest, followed by Giyu.

He turned back one more time, catching a glimpse of the home before it vanished from sight. Turning away, he allowed silent tears to stream down his face. ‘Whomever I was as a Hashira, that part of my human life is over... but I will still protect humanity. Even though I'm now forever an outcast...'

Chapter Text

Seven nights later

in a hidden temple in an unknown forest

Giyu gazed up at the crumbling temple with its cracked stone and decaying wooden roofs. Vines could be seen crawling up the walls, while one of the wooden roofs was clearly caved in. There was a thick coating of dust surrounding the area, and the clearing was overgrown with tall grass and weeds.

"It's... old," he eventually admits, looking up at the crescent moon.

"Yes, it has been quite a few centuries since I've been here." The dark, plum-eyed boy hums. "I should've paid more attention to them." He turned and smiled up at Giyu. "This... was known as the Sun Temple, and... a demonic friend of mine decided to merge themselves with this place..."

Giyu ignored the exasperation building up beneath his skin and instead asked, "Does that mean... this temple is... alive?"

The boy's face draws into a blank expression. "Perhaps."

An exasperated smile appears on his face. 'I am never going to get a straight answer out of him.'

'Most of the time, no, Lord Tomioka.' chirps the boy within his mind. 'You will know my name by tomorrow evening, if that's any consolation.'

In response, the 19-year-old began to grumble as the small group made their way towards the temple for shelter.

It had been seven days, or rather nights, since he and the demon boy had left the Kamado's home. The first few days were mentally exhausting, as they had to constantly find shelter before sunrise each night. Then there was the matter of the strange mark on his cheek, along with the scar on the upper right side of his forehead.

Absently, he reached up and touched the left side of his cheek before tracing a clawed finger around his left eye.

Three days previous

Giyu plunged his head back into the water, furiously scrubbing away at the dry blood that had been sticking to his skin for the past four days. 

Four days ago, he was turned into a demon; four days ago, he was a human, a demon slayer; four days ago, a year of his life and his previous master's name were erased from his memory.

He stayed underwater for quite some time, thoughts swirling as he scrubbed away the dirt and grime that had been building up during their nighttime travels.

(It's strange being a demon; my senses are sharper, especially my instincts.) His head burst from the cold river water, and he looked towards their camp. The boy with the fawn mask was tending to a fire while Tanjiro lay sleeping next to him in a basket they managed to get from a village after their second night of traveling.

He leaned back against the river bank before looking down at his reflection, pensive. 

His pale skin almost seemed to glow, with the dark blue mark on the left side of his cheek resembling a fluid-water-like design. The scar on the upper right side of his forehead, which was covered by his red-tipped black hair, was drenched in water, as were his black, curled dragon-like horns. His pointed ears moved, his heightened senses picking up on the nocturnal life surrounding them and the strange constant thrumming within his body. All the while, the Hanafuta earrings moved with the wind and briefly gave off an invisible pulse of energy.

He closed his eyes before opening and examining them. The irises are cat-like in appearance, with his right side being the same dark blue color before his transformation, while his left was completely different. It was almost same as Muzan's eyes in terms of looks. The only exception was the maroon color instead of the plum red he remembered.

As the demon king's face flashed in his mind's eye, a wave of uncertainty spread throughout his body. He pushed himself away from the riverbank and turned, letting out a soft groan of exhaustion. Giyu disregarded his bangs and focused on the crow that was sitting on a nearby branch while some clean clothing could be seen nearby on the ground.

'I was right; I don't like what I've found.'

He climbed out of the river and reached for the towel beside his clothes, beginning to dry himself off. While doing so, a breeze blew his hair back. Stopping in his task, the demon looked over his shoulder, gazing at his wings for a long time. Reaching back he gently touched one of the appendages.

The wings were large to the point where they touched the ground when folded. They were black, and their wing spand was about 15 feet long.

(It's strange having wings; they feel...awkward. At times, I want to leap up in the air and fly.) He proceeded to get dressed in a fresh pair of underclothes, black Hakama pants, white leg-wrapped kyahan, a pair of tabby socks, white sandals with dark blue straps, a white uwagi, and his half and half hori.

Picking the towel up, Giyu made his way towards the campfire. Reaching back, he touched the area where his wings connected to his body. (My friend has a theory on why my wings don't affect my clothing. He said that it's my body subconsciously adjusting itself, so I can allow for my clothing to not rip. He says he has another friend with wings, and her body did the same thing. Whatever the theory, I'm just grateful that I won't have to buy new clothing every day.)

Kanzaburou flew above, following his master, turned demon. The elderly bird then flew down and landed on one of his master's horns, which was quickly becoming one of his favorite perches. Meanwhile, Giyu had settled himself next to the demon boy, and Tanjiro was moved in front of him, closer to the fire, for warmth.

"Kanzaburou, are you... positive you want to stay with me...?"

The elderly Kasugai crow ruffled his feathers, an indignant squawk escaping his beak. "Of course, you were and are a good master to me. I am your crow; I will not leave your side now, not when you need all the help you can get."

"I..." Giyu began before going through the memories of his time as a human, seeing Kanzaburou as a constant part of his life until the day he was turned into a demon. Even though he couldn't remember a year of them being together, he could feel the emotions and the loyalty the bird had during that time. Including the protectiveness he could occasionally sense.

The black-haired, red-tipped demon reached up and held the elderly bird in his cupped hands and brought him close to his chest. Tears began streaming down his face as he curled his body around the crow. The former demon slayer should've known what Kanzaburou's response would've been days ago, but he secretly feared his crows loyalty to the demon slayers would outweigh his loyalty to him.

"Th-thank y-you... " He whispered through a sob. There were no words to describe how grateful he was to be wrong. "Thank you, thank you, thank you..."

Shifting his mask from his face to the side of his head, the demon boy gave a pleased smile. 'Looks like even the demon slayer messengers have stronger loyalties to their masters than they do the corps.' He turned his attention back onto the fire, making sure it stayed active for a while yet. They would have to move soon, when the moon was at its highest. 'Let us hope my meddling here and there throughout the centuries will help.' The boy then grimaced, the fire light dancing across his dark purple plum eyes. 'Here's to hoping your inherited memories will reach one of your descendants, old friend.'

He then reached into his own traveling sack and brought out two small flasks filled with a red liquid. He placed one beside Giyu and uncapped his own before taking a satisfying sip. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the former demon slayer eyeing the drink.

"It's donated," he stated, feeling the older-looking demons hesitation and fear through their link. "I only take donated blood. ...When we run out, then animal blood is the next best thing." He looked up, meeting Giyu's uncertain gaze head-on. "I won't lie and say my demon friends and I haven't killed humans, but it was during the last two years of World War I... We were quite bored, honestly, and we did enjoy faking our own deaths..." He placed his pointer finger on his chin, looking thoughtful. "I must say, it was quite interesting to be blown up by a bomb..."

Giyu and Kanzaburou gave him irate, dry looks.

“You and your friends joined World War I because you were bored!" Giyu hissed, looking as if he wanted to strangle the younger.

The boy shrugged, looking rather sheepish. "I may be wise, but I never said I wasn't slightly..."

"Insane, mad." Giyu finished dryly.

"I would've used eccentric, but that too. Though I am not including myself, there are only two others that fit that description." He frowned before murmuring. "...I think."

"You think?!" Giyu groaned, bearing his face in his hands.

"You might be added to that list in a couple of years." He said mildly.

Lifting his head from his hands, Giyu eventually asked. "What did you do... during those... two years?"

"Forged documents, joined the army, and we all agreed to gather up blood from our dead enemies to secretly send back to anyone who didn't want to join us. That was our main goal; we couldn't go about getting donated blood in our usual way." He grimaced. "It was wartime, and on top of that, we had to hide from the bastard Demon King."

"And your death?" Squawked Kanzaburou.

The demon boy chuckled. "Oh that? Let's just say that in the end, it was easy for us to run headlong towards the bombs; the tricky part was escaping without anyone seeing us. The only ones who joined were the ones who had strong morals with a few screws loose here and there."

Giyu shook his head and uncapped the flask before downing half and saying, "Well... as long as you weren't... eating any humans..."

"Again, we mainly did it for the supply of blood we needed." The demon boy gave him a grim smile before sipping at his flask of blood. "We aren't innocent... A friend of mine had to kill humans... to save other humans."

Giyu stopped in his tracks, the flask of blood halfway to his lips. "What do you mean?"

The younger-looking demon gazed into the fire before answering. "They killed a handful of humans from a group of men who were kidnapping women to be sold off as..." He grimaced, as if the next words would leave a bitter taste in his mouth. "...Pleasure slaves. The youngest, from what they told me, was about 11 or 12. She was the most attractive out of all of the captured women and girls there."

The former demon slayer felt bile crawl up his throat. Forcing down a swallow, he eventually said, "Well... good on them..."

Reaching out, the dark purple, plum-eyed demon placed a hand on his shoulder. "Yes... Don't worry, all of us know what we're doing; we don't kill unless it's our last resource. We all have different methods of dealing with those types of situations, but we have varying lines that we'd rather not have crossed. " He side before continuing. "I don't approve of what the demon slayers did at one point in the past..." His shoulders slumped, and he seemed to age 10 years. 

Giyu intended to ask what happened but was stopped in his tracks by the strained atmosphere. It was heavy and thick, filled with contempt from what he could smell. He scowled and touched one of his rigid, pointed ears. The boy's body was stiff, and the expression on his face was indifferent. After that, Giyu kept silent while gazing at his flask of blood as the atmosphere continued to surround them. He wondered just what the demon slayers had done to make his friend loathe the Corps and saw that the once-jovial atmosphere was gone. 

Face still blank, Giyu's new friend answered his unspoken question, voice emotionless. "Something I never forgave the demon slayer's for doing."

"We have to go." He said, once Giyu was finished with his flask of blood, "Your training with my friend will soon begin, followed by final selection. You'll need a new Nichirin sword if you want to defend other humans and yourself."

Giyu scowled, he had almost forgotten the harsh training he would have to go through in order to gain this breathing technique that could seriously injure Muzan. Giyu stood up while the demon boy grabbed a nearby bucket of water that he had earlier filled and threw its contents over their small fire, still sensing the tension in the air.

"Just a few more nights..." The demon boy said, swiftly placing his fawn mask over his face, and began to clean up their campsite. 

Not sure of what comfort he could offer, Giyu nodded. After asking Kanzaburou to watch Tanjiro and the elderly crow agreeing. He began to help, his nighttime vision allowing for easy movement in the now, dark campsite.

Present Day

Giyu breathed in the dusty air of the temple as their small party made their way through a section of the front entrance that had collapsed at some point.

His sensitive nose twitched before he sneezed, a cloud of dust flying into the air.

The demon boy let out a few choice words that would've made a hardened demon slayer's face turn red.

After the dust settled and everyone had stopped coughing, the group looked around, not needing any light for their nocturnal eyes.

They walked around the temple, looking for a place where the sun wouldn't shine down on them during the daytime. As they searched, Giyu took in his surroundings, noting the mold and maas in a few areas. He made sure to stay clear of those places. He was a demon, but he was not stupid. Tanjiro was a human infant; he could easily die if he breathed in the mold.

He absently stroked his new wards head with one of his fingers as he followed his friend towards a room. From what he could tell as they drew near, it was fairly dusty, but there appeared to be no cracks for sunlight to penetrate or anything dangerous for a human infant to catch.

He then stopped and turned to examine one of the pillars. It was intricately carved in vines and flowers, but that wasn't what caught Giyu's attention. There was a crack splitting the upper and lower halves of a butterfly.

"Master?" Asked Kanzaburou, shifting from one foot to the other.

Giyu blinked and reached up to his cheek, feeling something wet. Pulling his hand back, he saw that they were tears.

‘Why am I crying?' He wondered, staring at the butterfly carving as tears continued to fall. His chest filled with a sense of weariness, disappointment, and another emotion he couldn't place.

The demon boy stopped halfway through the door as he looked over his shoulder, wondering why Giyu wasn't following. He sniffed the air, picking up the scent of emotions coming from Giyu. Letting out a quiet hmph, he allowed his eyes to grow distant as they glowed with the same unnatural, eerie purple light from before.

He blinked, silently releasing his blood-demon art from his mind. His lips pursed into a thin line. 'Don’t worry... You won't see her for many years...'

A single tear escaped from his watery eyes. He brushed it aside with a finger and bit down on his lower lip, fangs piercing pale skin. He rubs away the excess blood as the puncture wounds quickly heal themselves. He looks back towards the dusty room and walks inside, placing his travel sack on the floor. 

Giyu didn't need an audience, and he would respect his lord's privacy. Blocking their mental connection, he let out a shaky breath, his dark purple-plum eyes shifting from left to right. ‘I wish I could tell you of... your lost love. But one of the Hashiras would kill you, then listen at this time.'

He knelt on the floor, the thick coating of dust making his nose itch. Sniffing, he rummaged through the other items within the large sack until he pulled out two blankets. He then stood and walked towards the opposite wall and placed them side-by-side. He sat on his makeshift bed, back against the wall, his muscles tense.

 "Sorry I've been away for so long." He apologizes padding the floor as he does so. 

He briefly opened the mental link to check on his Lord, but he seemed to be far too distracted with his own emotions to notice.

He lets out a sigh of relief. 'Thank Kami for fucking small miracles!'

"I... don't like keeping secrets from him." He admits, after a pause, voice barely above a whisper. 

He continued to sit there alone, the silence enveloping him. Nearly 500 years had certainly taught him the virtue of patience, and he wasn't going to stop anytime soon. Even so, that didn't mean he liked keeping secrets from this demon slayer—his Lord. It wasn't right; he knew exactly the power that Giyu held within his body, yet he couldn't tell him.

‘Knowledge is power.' He reminded himself, knowing that he had far more power than the current leader of the Demon Slayer Corps.

He clenches his fists, small, delicate claws, digging into his palm, and drawing blood. The demon slayers, he did not think of them as his enemies, at times a necessary evil, on particularly hard days, but he mostly saw them as humans who had forgotten their past and swept their mistakes under the rug. 

They made mistakes just like he did, but that didn't mean the raw pain of betrayal wasn't there. That didn't mean history was slowly repeating itself. The bloodline had returned to claim the sword, and yet. From what he could piece together, it seems as though this current generation of Hashiras is so caught up in their own hatred of demons and their own lives that they don't even attempt to listen! Or at the very least, make more than one attempt and not judge a swordsman based on their first impressions.

He slid a clawed hand down his face. "Now I understand why the others hated stocking these young adults AND teenagers! When they became Hashiras, ugh!" He groaned, mindful of his Lord's presents in the other room.

The black-haired demon then grimaced, remembering a particular demon slayer, now Hashira. 'Oh, I can only imagine what you must be feeling with everything you discovered.'

Unless a demon slayer, or better yet, a Hashira, were to show kindness and extend their hand to a demon, then he would begin the path of true forgiveness. At that point, his anger came back with vengeance.

‘After everything, you—you bastard Zaiaku! You forced our hand, and 500 years later, Muzan still lives and breathes!' He thought seething with 500 plusyears of pent-up resentment and betrayal flowing through his veins. 

He blinked, his eyes beginning to water. Allowing the frustrated tears to fall, he sniffed. There was so much he wanted to tell Giyu, but he couldn't, not now. He needs to focus on living, training, and looking after Tanjiro. He would slowly tell him his name, his powers... and eventually his past.

For now, he would bite his time, allowing the threads of fate to guide them towards their new path.

Yawning, he untied his mask from his head and placed it beside his makeshift bed, followed by unbuckling his sword from his belt and taking off his hori, folding it into a makeshift pillow. Sluggishly, he wiped away the remaining tears from his face and licked the blood from his palm. He closes his eyes, allowing the familiar comforting realm of sleep to claim his exhausted mind. 

The next evening would be very interesting for everyone involved.

The next night

Giyu snapped his eyes open, sensing movement beside him. Rolling over from his curled position around his crow and Tanjiro, he saw the demon boy sitting up.

'From what I remember, I was a light sleeper, even as a human.' Giyu mused, 'Unless I was working nonstop... for 11 nights in a row...' 

He internally winced, wondering why he was determined to work himself to the bone. It seemed as though there was something else he was missing. There were a few people he had lost; his sister he could clearly remember, but there were others who had died. The black-haired, red-tipped demon just couldn't remember who these people were. He remembers Tengu Mask being his teacher in the use of water breathing, but that was about it.

'Good evening, Lord Tomioka.' The demon boy greeted him within his mind. 'Ready to meet my friend and your trainer?'

"No." He replied, pushing aside the bits of his human life he could not remember to the back of his mind.

Giyu was dreading the next, who knew how long training with this new trainer of his.

The black-winged demon just knew his training was going to be hellish. Even if he became a demon slayer again, Giyu just knew that his original training would be nothing compared to what he was about to go through.

Still deep in his thoughts, he reached up a hand and caught the flask of blood. Not noticing the projectile stopping half way, or the vaguely amused, but stunned look on the demon boys face.

"Well then," murmured the black-haired demon, retrieving his own flask of blood. "Once we're done with breakfast, I'll see about finding something for Tanjiro."

Giyu hummed. ‘I don't remember seeing or smelling a nearby town on our way here.’

"Good," breathed the dark purple plum-eyed demon. " I took the longest and most discreet route to get here. I didn't want any of Kibutsuji's demons to spot us."

'Mainly you my lord, and Tanjiro.' He privately added

Once finished with their breakfast and getting dressed in a new pair of baggy clothing in the demon boys case, the group made their way outside towards the early night, with the purple sky quickly fading into a dark blue color.

Holding the now awake Tanjiros make shift bassinet by the handle, the demon boy looked around. 'Where are you?'

Giyu stood next to him, also looking and wondering where his new teacher would be. He wondered what his new teacher would be like. Would he be kind or more strict? His fangs pierced his lower lip before immediately healing. He trusted his new friend, but he was still anxious about his new teacher training him even though he was a demon. 

Eyes widening, Giyu whipped his head around remembering what the shorter demon had told him the previous night when they arrived at the sun temple. He opened his mouth, ready to ask the question that had been bothering him for the past seven nights, but a strong gust of wind interrupted him. Forcing himself to snatch his crow from on top of his horn and shield him with his arms and hori.

Blinking away the dust from his eyes, he turned to check on the demon boy, who was already beginning to walk away, his body shifting into an older version of himself. The baggy clothing began to fit him better as he grew taller.

The demon boy turned his head around and waved with his free hand, smiling fangs poking out from his upper lip. "Take care of Lord Tomioka while I'm gone, Yoriichi Tsugikuni!"

Said demon nodded, while Giyu whipped his head around his ponytail making contact with his cheek as he turned to face the man standing in front of him with wooden training swords held in each hand.

He was a tall man standing at 6'3" with a lean muscular build, fair skin, maroon eyes, and long spiky hair with red tips that he kept in a ponytail. The man wore a red haori over a very pale orange-colored nagagi kimono with a black umanori-styled hakama, a pair of zōri with red straps and white tabi socks, with a Nichirin sword carried at the left side of his waist. He sported hanafuda earrings that Tanjuro gave him before his death and cryptic last words.

Giyu nodded once, through Kanzaburou up into the air, allowing him to fly easier, bowed, and returned his attention to the demon boy who had paused at the edge of the clearing. He then spoke the answer to his unspoken question, shocking him to his very core.

"Oh, and my name... it's Kiriya... Kiriya Ubuyashiki."

Giyu's ears twitched, the hanafuda earrings making a soft, clinking sound as they fluttered in the wind.

The man—Yoriichi-Sensei—gave Giyu a gentle smile, his maroon eyes filled with concerned amusement as he handed the wooden sword to him.

"Let's begin." Yoriichi-Sensei said, his voice sounding aloof to Giyu's ears. "Show me your water breathing stances, then tell me if there have been any new water breathing techniques created. If there is, then do show me."

Giyu nodded, feeling a sense of calmness wash over him as he began his first lesson with Yoriichi-Sensei, his mind still reeling at the fact that the demon he was traveling with was an Ubuyashiki! A member of the family who had led the Demon Slayer Corps ever since they were created.

Chapter Text

Two months later

Demon Slayer Headquarters

The master's garden

Kyojuro Rengoku was the flame Hashira; he had flame-like hair and a smile that never faltered, even in the most dire of circumstances. He believed in the Corps and their mission to rid the world of man-eating demons.

Today the sun was shining bright as he stood outside the master's garden. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Gyomei Himejima, Sanemi Shinazugawa, Tengen Uzui, Shinobu Kocho, Inosuke Hashibira, the beast Hashira, who has only spoken when necessary in the past month of becoming a piller, and the newly appointed serpent Hashira Obanai Iguro leave the garden, going off to do varying tasks before a mission or returning to the butterfly estate to continue their healing.

The flame Hashira then turned his attention to the man sitting before him in the shade. He has light skin and black shoulder-length hair. He wears a plain black kimono secured with a tan-colored braided obi over a white juban. He is also wearing a white, calf-length haori with a unique design of gradient flames of the colors purple and salmon pink rising from the hem up to the half of the sleeves.

The skin appears as if it's rotting, and a curse mark covers the man's forehead, including the area surrounding his left eye. It seemed to be more active today as the curse mark attempted to move further down his remaining working eye, but there appears to be an invisible force preventing it from doing so.

Kyojuro kneeled and bowed before speaking. "What did you want to talk to me about, master?"

Kagaya Ubuyashiki smiled gently before explaining himself. "Yes, my child, as you and the others have noticed, Giyu was absent during the meeting today. As I told everyone, I gave Giyu permission to not attend."

The master gazed fixedly into his child's eyes for a long time before continuing. His voice was calm and collected, but in reality, he was greatly worried for his missing child and the one in front of him. "Unfortunately, there's a reason why I did not speak truthfully to everyone. There hasn't been a single sign of Giyu or his crow in the past few months."

Kyojuros muscles tensed as he stared fixedly on the ground, not saying a word. His heart clenched in worry while his stomach twisted with a growing sense of fear. If a Hashira was hunting a particularly powerful demon, then they would update daily and send in their reports; if they were not hunting down a notably dangerous demon, then they would update at the end of every week. 

Unless excused personally by the master, which the master had, a severe injury rendered the Hashira unable to move or was in an unconscious state after a mission, a Hashira would be excused from the meeting. However, if none of these conditions had been met, the Hashira would have had to attend any and all mandatory Piller meetings.

There was another reason why a Hashira wouldn't be present at a meeting, but Kyojuro's heart clenched with pain whenever he began going down that train of thought.

"I see!" He exclaimed, forcing himself to look at the master. "Giyu, is he all right? I haven't heard or seen him around for the past two months. And... Why only tell me?"

"You observe situations and people's actions before doing so yourself..." The master trailed off and peered at the beautiful sky and the sun's warm glow. A butterfly landed on a nearby potted flower, its wings fading from blue to red and its black-lined borders speckled with white dots standing out. While the day was genuinely peaceful, his troubled thoughts would be considered the opposite.

He closed his remaining eye and remembered the repetitive dream he'd been having ever since his child's last report to him nearly two months and seven days ago.

The outline of a woman covered in shadow could be seen dancing in a ring of dirt in the middle of a snow-covered forest. Candles surround the outline of the circular patch of dirt, while five shadowy figures watch from the side.

Another image appeared before his minds eye. This one of a man, his body silhouetted against the moon as he effortlessly dances on ice, snowflakes gently falling around him. The same number of figures, now holding lanterns, watch him from the safety of the snow-covered bank.

They both hold what appeared to be ceremonial wooden katanas with the accompanied sound of bells and long lengths of ribbon tied at the end gracefully trailing after their movements.

This is followed by echoing whispers and the two voices. One male, the other female, the latter's voice being more Intelligible.

'Only flame may discover what has become of water'

'Love will follow, and two worlds will become one'

'When 13 years have passed, may you ask'

'May you know, but not your strongest children'

"I sense he is in a mentally vulnerable position." Kagaya admits returning to the present. "I fear the others would not take kindly to my child's current predicament considering their views on him."

The flame Hashira stiffened, guilt filling every part of his being; nonetheless, he stayed quiet, allowing the master to finish speaking.

"I trust in whatever decision you will make during your mission."

Kyojuro stared at the ground, not really seeing it. Despite only being a pillar for about a year now, he hadn't expected this amount of trust from the master. But the current head of the Ubuyashiki family's words weren't sinking in; his thoughts were elsewhere.

'I should defend Giyu more from the others, especially Shinobu.' As a fellow pillar, Shinobu didn't bother him, but sometimes it was unsettling how she let her resentment creep underneath the surface. Her rage had the flavor of hot noodles combined with Goya Chanpuru. Occasionally, he could taste her rage aimed at Giyu. Although his hearing wasn't as good as it once was, he was able to piece together Giyu's body language and could guess what she was saying to him. Giyu appeared to be becoming more withdrawn from himself looking as if he'd rather be somewhere else. Kyojuro unconsciously clenched and unclenched his fists. 'Her methods of befriending and getting close to him romantically aren't... healthy. She's doing more harm than good.'

"I understand," he said, voice solemn. "I won't say a word to the others."

Kagaya gave him a gentle smile. "That is my second request; please do not tell the others. I know young Inosuke and Obanai our new, but I fear the others will tell their perspective on Giyu."

Kyojuro simply nodded, his heart filling with regret for his lack of action, anger at himself and the others for their judgment of Giyu, and sadness for the chance he hopefully hadn't lost yet. His comatose mother was right. All of them were scarred by demons in one way or another. His fellow Hashira must've had more invisible than visible scars. 

His mother was correct on another matter.

He silently prayed and hoped to whatever Kami was listening that he would find Giyu alive or injured... not dead.

Bidding the master farewell, he began heading back to his estate, making a mental list of the supplies he would need. 

Neither occupants noticed a pure black butterfly with the pattern of two purple eyes on the upper half of its delicate wings fly away. Nor the first following soon after.

As Kyojuro walked by the butterfly estate, an idea popped into his mind. Changing direction, he ran towards the water estate. 

Meanwhile

Kiriya Ubuyashiki, ever wearing his mask to the left side of his head, his uniform, and his haori, peered down at the garden through the foliage of a wisteria tree. Unlike the other times, he now wore gloves and a bamboo hat as he leaned against the trunk of said wisteria tree. His legs dangled precariously in the air as they swung back and forth, occasionally hitting the branch that he was currently sitting on.

Glancing to the side, the now 12-year-old-looking demon raised an eyebrow at the two other figures sitting next to him. The taller of the two had their arms wrapped around the second figure, who was absently rubbing their stomachs. Like him, both wore gloves and bamboo hats low over their heads. The pair also wore silver chain necklaces with a ring as its only decoration. 

The rings themselves were silver with intricate carvings of the moon cycle. The full moon carving was replaced with a diamond for the smaller, while the taller's ring had an obsidian jewel representing the new moon.

"Thanks you to..." he said. "Apologies for bringing you so close to the hornets nest."

"It's no trouble at all, Kiriya." Reassured the taller figure, his voice revealing him to be male.

Kiriya waved a dismissive hand at the taller figure. "Indeed, here's to hoping this will be the last time I have to send this particular vision..." He breathed, his voice filled with relief and exhaustion.

He then looked down towards where the master's manner was and frowned. The flame Hashira was a safe bet, along with the future love Hashira. No, he wouldn't be meddling around with the young Rengoku's future Tsuguko. Kagaya would be able to handle the situation, and he was not about to metal into any more affairs. The dark purple plum-eyed demon had seen many visions of what could be, was, and had already been with varying outcomes via his blood demon art. The future love piller would indeed play a key role in one possible future. It was the most likeliest, considering what he and the others had seen and heard through the butterflies, watching the current semicursed Ubuyashiki and flame Hashira.

He blinked several times, trying to rid himself of the spots of what could be, was, or had already been. His eyes twitched before they glowed, the vision playing out before him.

Bolts of turquoise thunder illuminate a struggling figure, trying to get the rope tied around their neck off. A crowd is gathered, some cheering while others cry out as two figures rush towards the front. A tall man in a red haori slices the rope before turning, revealing a mask of a white cat with red eyes and a painted sun between its eyes, covering his face. Another flash, and the two figures are running away from the brightly lit village, illuminating the second figure, who was caring the younger-looking figure and wearing a repaired solid red haori. It was none other than Giyu, wearing a snarling white wolf mask covering his face. Turquoise designs in the shape of thunderbolts are painted on either side of the wolf's face, starting from the bottom of his eyes to the lower half of its face, and one on it's forehead. Another flash of turquoise thunder, and the vision ended just as suddenly as it began.

‘That's something I have to mention when I return to the Sun Temple.'He mused, grimacing at the spots of light dancing across his vision.'Damn random visions!'

"Not that I'm happy to see you too again after... four years," he admitted after his vision fully cleared, "but it would be best if you weren't discovered. Especially for your daughter and fiancé's safety..."

Tsukito nodded in agreement, not bothering to ask what his friend's recent vision was. Like everyone else who knew Kiriya, getting a straight answer out of him was impossible. "I know, but we all decided we were going to take the risk anyway. After all, if it hadn't been for you, I wouldn't be here. Neither would the few precious people I... care for... in my life..."

The black-haired demon side heavily, knowing there was a deeper meaning behind his friends and fellow demons responses.

"I know..." He smirked, "... it's risky... But I don't hate this one...I'm willing to risk carrying the burden of carrying more of the curse, within my body, if necessary…”

Tsukito side, shaking his head as his betrothed allowed the two butterflies, who had been spying on the master and delivering the last vision once again, to land on her outstretched gloved palms and sink back into her skin.

"How is Uncle doing?" Tsukito eventually asks, knowing his friends complicated feelings when it comes to his family.

Kiriya hummed, "He's doing well; our Lord is doing his best... Especially with young Tanjiro showing his fussier side as of recent."

"That's good to hear." Chimes in his friend's fiancé. "I really do hope things work out with everyone and Lord Tomioka." The young female demon's voice then became saddened. "He deserves to be happy after how... he was treated and... how he was turned by Muzan!" She bit out.

Tsukito and Kiriya could only agree in silence. Word has spread around the secret ivy vine that was the demonic and human gossip mill about how Giyu had come face-to-face with the demon king himself. And not to mention, somehow regaining control from fucking Muzan.

only Kiriya, the old Crow, and Yoriichi knew the extent of Giyu’s freedom over the demon king.

Kiriya then took in a deep breath of air. His lungs filling with the familiar scent of wisteria. Without another word, he leapt from the tree and landed on the ground with silent feet, his knees buckling from the impact before straightening. He quietly made his way through the orchard of wisteria trees, thinking to himself and recalling his vision. 

The black-haired demon ignored his family's curse as it began to infest his thumb and fingers. Shrinking down to his 8-year-old form, Kiriya quickened his steps, mindful of the damn patches of sunlight.

Once navigating safely out of the demon slayer headquarters, he made his way towards the nearby village. After about two or three hours of tense walking, he arrived at his destination and paid for a room. 

Sliding down to the floor, back firmly pressed to the locked door, the demon Ubuyashiki then brought out one of his fans, and brought it down on his wrist, severing the now curse-infested hand. 

'I don't care if I'm 400 fucking years old. Or the fact that I've done it before.' he thought in relief and annoyance. 'I really hate having to walk in the sun like that!'

His missing limb grew back after a minute. Picking himself up, he tossed the severed limb towards the patch of sunlight streaming through the partially open window and quietly watched it turn into ash upon contact.

Not bothering with covering up the window for the moment, he removed his hat and remaining glove, tossing them onto the bed before sitting down himself. Eyes shifting from left to right, the dark, purple-plum-eyed demon brought out a clay jar from his sleeve. Setting the glowing jar down on the floor he examined it. 

The jar was simple, and it pulsed with a gray light like a heart would. Then he stood and walked slowly around the jar. A melody of a song coming to mind as he does so.

Kiriya

In a time long ago

There were two brothers who were born

One of the bright sun

The other of the dim light of the moon

And so it was said, remembered by a few

The moon turned his back on humanity

And took the hand of the devil spawn

Kiriya paused and unsheathed his blade. The light from the open window cast long, dim shadows over the glittering wisteria-colored blade. Face turning steely and cold Kiriya adjusted his grip.

Kiriya

Enraged was the goddess of the moon

When she discovered his treachery

She ripped the remains of his humanity in two

She saved the moons son and granted his wish

To never again see the light of the moon

The goddess then granted him a gift

To breathe and to dance the moons forgotten beauty

Not until his father was redeemed

Or Muzan was sent to burn for eternity

Would he see the night 

The small demon then brought his katana over his head and swung the blade downward onto the small jar. A brief flash of light later and a white orb of light appeared before the demon child. The orb then bumped Kiriya's nose and flew towards the open window. He watched it fly away until he could no longer see it. 

The barest hint of a smile played upon his lips as a shadowy form of a Shinigami appeared behind him. Kiriya nodded once, and the Shinigami gave a crooked smile in return.

"You may save four moons; in exchange, the kami require four human or demon lives. Their souls must be just as dark or close enough to the immortal devil spawns demons. Good luck... Little sear... Don't worry, the little queen will provide us with two humans, which we've been meaning to get our hands on for quite a few years now..."

The Shinigami then cackled before disappearing, and Kiriya was left alone to ponder his vision and that of the god of death's words.

Kiriya

Now the moons humanity

Will be reborn, in a being 

But bear the brothers memories

Born to the hunter of the blood moon

And the flower who was so cruelly tainted

By emotionless rainbow eyes

Whether this new life shall succeed

Is yet to be seen

In a different village, within an inn room lay three figures. The curtains had been drawn, and the room was covered in shadow. The tallest of the three opened their dark magenta eyes. 

The owner of the eyes stared at the little ball of light hovering at the edge of the small family's bed. They did not sense any malicious intentions coming from this shattered spirit.

Allowing themselves to relax, the taller figure pulled their small family closer and resumed sleeping, waiting for the night to come. 

The small ball of light continued to hover in front of the three figures covered in shadow before entering the oldest female demon's womb. 

Face scrunching in pain the female demon grimaced before her face relaxed once more. 

A single lapis blue eye opened before closing once more. The figure then curled into a ball and began to shrink until they was the size of a two-year-old.

"Shits going to hit the fan..." Murmured the little girl sleepily, cautiously cuddling further into her mother's body for warmth. 

Kiriya

So next time you see a flower bloom

Within a clearing of silver light

There she flourishes beneath the full moon

Guarded and loved by the little star to

Know that their love

Was paved through blood and pain 

Demon Slayer Headquarters

The water estate

Kyojuro gave his thanks to one of the Kakushi responsible for taking care of the water estate. She bowed before leaving, needing to do a few minor repairs outside.

Bracing himself, the flame Hashira opened the door and entered the room. There wasn't much to look at except for a desk, a few writing materials, a place to sleep, and a lovely view of the outside garden with a small pond. Not to mention the layer of dust that was beginning to gather.

He continued to look around before something caught his attention. He looked again, and there, stacked on top of one another at the side table next to a messily made futon were three journals. By the looks of it the top one was more recently used.

He walked over and stared at the three journals for a long time. The air grew heavy and tense. Kyojuro shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Unsure if he should take the journals for safekeeping or leave them here. 

At last he made his decision, and without hesitation, he gingerly grabbed the three journals. Tucking them securely against his side, the flame-haired pillar walked out of the room before he could second-guess himself.

"I hope you can forgive me, Giyu." He whispered into the empty hallway, making his way out towards the entrance.

"This wasn't my original reason for coming here... " he huffed, a bitter laugh escaping his lips.

Deciding he had plenty of time before returning to the flame estate, Kyojuro took his time walking towards the water estate garden. As he began to walk around, he admired the garden with its various flowers and handmade streams of interconnecting rivers, along with a handful of small and large Koi ponds. The sun's raise danced across the various water surfaces while a few of the taller plants and trees suede gently in a sudden breeze of cool air.

Various Kakushi members who called the water estate home were tending to the various plants and fish around the garden. A few waved to him while returning to their work, seemingly talking to the garden itself.

Kyojuro found this behavior to be familiar. He closed his eyes, remembering a time before his mother fell into a coma.

A younger Kyojuro kneeled on the ground beside his mother as she tended to a small garden of red peonies. Occasionally, he'd help by pulling out the weeds his mother pointed out to him.

The young boy, about six years old, looked up at his mother and asked. "Mother? Why do you talk to the plants when you are in the garden?"

The young woman has fair skin and defining facial features, such as her sharp nose, long eyebrows, and pale complexion. She had large dark red eyes with circular white pupils and a small mouth, with semi-long black hair tied loosely at the end in a ponytail.

The red-eyed woman gave her son a gentle smile. "Well, Kyojuro, there is life all around." She explained, gesturing to the flowers before them. "Some life, like plants and animals, cannot talk like we do. I talk to my flowers because they have no one else to talk to but each other. If you take the time to speak to a plant or animal, then good things will come. No matter how silly the idea, always remember this. Give thanks to the animal who has died so we may eat it; ask a plant if you may pick it like one of my flowers."

Kyojuro nodded eagerly, his six-year-old mind instantly latching on to the idea with all of his strength. What his mother just said and explained to him made sense.

’Mother wouldn't lie,' he thought, inching closer to the bed of flowers.

"Hi, my name is Kyojuro, and I'm going to be the greatest flame piller ever! Just like my father..."

Ruka Rengoku beamed as she saw her son eagerly talking to her small garden of red peonies. She was glad to pass on this lesson to her eldest, just as her mother did before her.

This would be one of her last lessons to her son. In seven months, she would fall into a coma just as she finished praying to their deity. 

A single tear fell down his cheek and onto the ground, his smile dimming for a second before it returned in full force. He walked around the garden, occasionally greeting one of the workers. All the while, he kept an eye out for a few specific flowers. Letting out a breath of relief, he kneeled, gently placed the three journals down next to him, and smiled at the side of the patch of various flowers. He bought his head, sent a quick prayer for his mother to wake up soon, and began his task of picking a few, remembering his mother's lesson.

The flame-haired pillar didn't know what he would find on his mission, but if he found his friend... Then he would offer them as a gift, hoping the meaning behind the flowers would fly over Giyu's head. Swallowing the lump forming in his throat, Kyojuro continued to pick certain flowers.

Holding the flowers close, Kyojuro looked around at the lovely garden of the water estate for a long time before seemingly disappearing into thin air. He had a feeling that the next time he would be in the garden, things wouldn't be the same.

Three days later

On the outskirts of the village of Shin Seikatsu

At the base of Mount Kumotori

Kyojuro looked up at the mountain trail leading up into the woods and away from the quaint little village. He had seen the curious and worried stairs of the villagers, but he paid them no mind. This was where Giyu said he'd be heading in his last sent-in report, and it was the only lead he had. Rolling his shoulders, he began the trek up the mountain. As he approached the halfway point, he noticed a small house with two men sitting outside.

The older of the two made eye contact with him and stood, beckoning him over. Kyojuro didn't move for several minutes before making his way over.

"Hello gentlemen!" He graded. "What can I help you with?"

The older man took one good, long look at him before letting out a heavy, drawn-out sigh. "You wouldn't happen to know a demon slayer with a half-and-half haori would you?"

Kyojuro stiffened at once. "...Yes." He answered hesitantly.

The young man with copper hair looked down and, through a choked sob, explained. "I'm... I'm s-sorry sir... But...h-he..."

The flame Hashira slowly turned his attention towards the mountain trail, following the older man's slow gaze as the younger broke down in tears. Heart clenching in pain and denial, he bolted from the small home, ignoring the men's cries to stop.

'Please... don't let it be true!' He thought, his heart pounding with dread as the snow flew around him. 'Don't let him be dead! Please, Kami don't let him be dead!'

As he ran by a thick tree, he did not notice a demon with a baby strapped to his back wearing a checkered black-and-sea-foam-green kimono over a white robe and black pants, tabi socks, and a pair of white zōri with red straps. The demon's burgundy, red-tipped hair tied in a ponytail was caught by the gust of wind.

Rubbing his eyes from the cold gust of air and flying snow, he opened them to reveal kind, slitted cat-like red eyes. He looked over his shoulder at the baby, his eyes shining with concern.

"You're not going to like going back there." Whispered the demon, beginning to follow the familiar yet new trail leading up towards an abandoned home. "My mate—er—husband and Kiriya told me, of course, what happened... But I'm afraid to see it for myself."

When the duo reached the clearing, the red-eyed demon had to jump behind a tree and cover his ears at the agonized scream coming from the demon slayer before a small cluster of graves. The kind demon grimaced, looking over his shoulder at the infant.

"You all right, Tanjiro?" He whispers in the sudden stillness of the forest. Tanjiro only gurgled, reaching for his ponytail with his tiny hands. 

Chuckling, he closed his eyes and began to concentrate. It had been a while since he shifted in order to hide his identity. He envisioned himself having hair like the snow, with a few burgundy-red-tipped streaks mixed in. He could feel his smooth skin gaining wrinkles, he finished his transformation by retracting his claws and teeth. The teeth and claws couldn't be fully hidden, but hopefully it would be enough to not draw suspicion from him. Opening his now more human eyes, the elderly-looking demon gave a nervous chuckle.

"Let's do this, Tanjiro." He told himself.

'I should practice more on changing my features in the future.' He thinks, beginning to make his way slowly towards the flame-haired man kneeling in front of the graves. 'Ah, never mind; it looks like I'll have to lie to this particular slayer.'

He paused halfway, allowing some semblance of privacy, but the elderly-looking demon could not pretend he did not hear the words coming from the slayers lips. Or the emotions he could smell coming off of him in waves.

Kyojuro kneeled in the quickly melting snow, his eyes never leaving the two graves, and more specifically, the all-to-familiar weather-warren demon slayer uniform patches of dry blood staining the fabric. The parts of the uniform, not held down by the small, heavy stone, fluttered in the wind; the golden buttons were dull, as if the uniform its self died alongside the man who had worn it. 

Giyu was dead—killed by a demon, no doubt. His eyes trailed slowly towards the house, where he could clearly see patches of red threw the manny holes in the walls.

"He died alone..." He whispered into the empty clearing. His throat felt raw from the scream he had let loose earlier. "... I missed my chance... And now you will never know..."

Tears began streaming down his face like a miniature waterfall, unable to stop. One hand clutched onto his sword, while the other held the somewhat fresh bouquet of flowers close to his chest. Kyojuro knew the other Hashira had attempted to befriend Giyu, but after the second or third time, they stopped inviting him to any get togethers they might've had after a pillar meeting.

Kyojuro clenched his jaw, bitterness and disgust filling his heart at his fellow slayers. They had done nothing! Yes, all of them had their own traumatic pasts, but it did not excuse Sanemi calling Giyu an arrogant bastard! 

In. Hearing. Distance! 

He had done something’s for Giyu, but despite that, he had at least tried more than three times and had not given up on befriending his fellow Hashira.

Gingerly, he placed the bouquet of flowers next to Giyu's grave. If nothing else, he would visit this place at least once a month. Giyu wouldn't be alone, as he was in life.

"They told me... It's still hard to believe it. Yet I am seeing it with my own eyes." Murmured a voice behind him.

The flame Hashira leapt to his feet, spun around faster than the eye could see, and saw an elderly man with a bundle strapped to his back walking towards him. The adrenaline rush he felt at being sneaked from behind left. Kyojuro's eyes softened before forcing a polite smile on his face.

"Hello," Kyojuro bowed in respect, while the elderly man merely chuckled and waved a dismissive hand.

"None of that now. I've come to see what has become of the Kamado Home... " The old man looked long and hard at the home before letting out a shaky breath.

He walked towards the graves and stood there for a long time, then, bowing his head, began to pray quietly, words silently tumbling from his lips. Feeling curious, Kyojuro observed him for a while. The elderly man seemed nice enough, but there was something off about him. He could taste warm milk mixed with honey and… ash. Usually, Kyojuro would have that taste in his mouth when confronting a demon. It was strange. The taste of ashes was faint, but was there just on the edges of his taste buds, like an aftertaste of a few foods he'd eaten. The infant strapped to his back was strangely quiet and still, but he sensed no ill intent in the elderly man.

Once he was done praying, the white-haired man looked at him and gave a gentle, sad smile. "I'm sorry for your loss... " He peered at the bouquet of flowers and raised an eyebrow. An amused smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Ahh, your last loved one was a demon slayer... At least he had someone to travel with during his last journey towards a peaceful afterlife."

Kyojuro swallowed down the growing lump and wiped away the tears from his eyes with his sleeve. “Thank you, and yes, he was very dear to me..."

The older man then frowned in the direction of the destroyed home. 'If I know Kiriya, then he left something for this slayer... No this Ringoku to find.'

"Forgive me, I did not introduce myself, Kyojuro apologized. He paused briefly, the taste of ashes on his tongue, as he looked at the elderly man for a second time. "My name is Kyojuro Ringoku, and yours?"

"Sumiyoshi, and this little one is Tanjiro." He smiled, shifting his body to reveal the baby strapped to his back, who was staring blankly at the sky while absently reaching for his ponytail once again. "I'm taking care of him until the one who adopted him... Comes back from a trip they needed to make."

Kyojuro nodded in understanding, still a bit misty-eyed. "Do you need any help in getting down the mountain?"

Sumiyoshi shook his head. "Don't worry yourself, I've done it before..." He glanced one more time at the bouquet of a red chrysanthemum, a red primrose, a white camellia, a yellow camellia, and a single violet flower.

Reaching up, Sumiyoshi placed a hand on Kyojuro's shoulder, squeezing gently. "I see you put a primrose in that bouquet of yours... I have a feeling that your heart won't be broken for long." He checked, shaking his head. "You may have to wait a while yet..."

Once again, he took a long, hard look at the house before stepping back and waving goodbye. He began to make his way down the mountain trail, Tanjiro waving his little arms around as if he were saying goodbye.

Sumiyoshi turned his head and gave one last message. "Live for them; remember who they truly were in life, not what others believe them to be on the outside."

Sumiyoshi then continued on his way down the mountain that was once his home 500 years ago.

Kyojuro waved back, and he continued doing so until the elderly man was lost to site. He then turned his attention to the house, reaching for his katana subconsciously. He began to make his way forward, his footsteps measured and silent. The taste of blood and ash mixed with the strange bitter aftertaste of death filled his mouth. Grimacing, he reached into his small pack of food and brought out a rice cake. Taking a bite, he continued forward, the food relieving his taste buds of the unwanted flavors.

He continued forward, looking around the blood stained home. His heart filled with deep sadness as he continued forward, reaching what appeared to be where the family slept. Walking through the door, he scanned the room before looking down. There were more blood stains, dust, and...

Letting out a strangled gasp, he dropped to his knees, his rice cake forgotten, as he reached for the broken remains of a blue katana.  

It felt like knives pierced his heart; his breathing became ragged, and new tears streamed down his face. He clutched the remains of the Katana close to his chest, not caring of the blood dripping from his hand as he held it close. Standing, he walked away, ignoring his discarded snack.

He continued on his journey back to the master's estate, his heart bleeding with sorrow, regret, and a dim sense of success.

While speaking to the master, once he had returned from his three-day journey, it began to rain. The burning inferno within his heart was nothing but a dim candle. 

His smile, which never faltered under any dire of circumstances, dimmed, and his eyes began to hold the same sadness as Giyu's own while he finished his report. Walking back to his estate, he no longer believed in the Corps and their mission to rid the world of man-eating demons. Kyojuro would fight for Giyu's memory and his family. His trust in his fellow Hashira had dropped greatly, and he would never look at them the same way again.

Chapter Text

Four years ago

Unnamed village

A little boy ran through the streets, dodging carts and stands as he ran away from a large, burly man pushing his way through the bustling town square. A few people protested or gave the man nasty looks when he pushed them aside, but the vendor did not care. His dark gray eyes were zeroed in on a tiny figure who easily weaved their way through the crowd, his small stature being used to his advantage.

The little boy looked to be about three years old; he was pale with a tattered, dirt-stained green kimono with a rope tied around his waist. The boy's face was beginning to grow gaunt. Thankfully, his meager clothes hid his thinning frame from sight. For how much longer that small mercy would last, the boy didn't know.

He clutched the small pouch filled with four peaches close to his chest, his hands trembling. Glaring at the incoming cart crossing his path as if the wagon and its driver personally offended him. He slid beneath it and leapt to his feet on the other side. The driver cried out in shock as he pulled the horses reigns. Not wasting any time, his bare feet began moving across the ground, kicking up dust and small pebbles while continuing with his escape. 

The boy blew back his short, spiky black hair, with two thick strands framing his face from his turquoise eyes. They were framed by thick, arched eyebrows. 

Wiping a dirt-covered hand over his forehead, the boy continued forward. His shoulders lifted instinctually to his ears, the sounds around him growing unbearable.

"GET BACK HERE, YOU THIEF!!" Roared the vendor, who was nothing more than a growing spec in the distance.

The boy grimaced, continuing to run, seemingly gliding across the ground, the outskirts of the village coming into site.

Present day

Kaigaku opened his turquoise eyes to a familiar world of pain, cold, and hunger. He blinked, trying to rid himself of the memory. That day had been his first time stealing food to survive. It marked him as a thief, but it also marked the day he had met the kind blind monk who had taken him in.

He gazed around his prison for the past six months. Everything was the same: the tiny cell, the chains connecting to his ankles and wrists, the small cell with its barred window, and the blood coding his back.

His turquoise eyes shifted towards the window, and he noted it was still dark outside. Letting out a grunt, he curled into a ball, his knees pulled up to his chest, his chains clinking on the ground. Back firmly facing the door, he closed his eyes, trying to rid himself of the memories. 

It was, of course, to no use; he could still see himself running towards the monastery, with his goods forged from the nearby forest.

He could remember tripping over one of the candles before continuing towards home. He remembered the screams and the blood covering his clothing and himself. His turquoise eyes grew distant from the echoing screams of the other kids echoing in his mind.

"… No," he whispered, envisioning himself waking up after being thrown against the monastery stone wall. He was covered in blood and surrounded by the remains of the other children surrounding him.

Kaigaku hadn't been sure where the kind-blind Monk had been; the only other person he noticed was a little girl also covered in blood. The only thing he was sure of was that the monster was gone and that the monks from the other nearby temple in the village had come with a handful of men and accused him of killing the younger kids. 

His fellow orphan was of no help when he tried to explain that it was a monster. The girl looked scared, and when he tried to convince the adults again, they didn't believe him.

Six months later, he was waiting for his next meal—the next round of beatings and whippings he would receive from the so-called peace-loving monks. He could remember seven days ago, on his seventh birthday, the head monk coming in and telling him about what happened that night. Kaigaku's hand shook with anger and fear.

The black-haired boy shivered, curling into an even further ball, if possible. 'I hate being alone...'

As Kaigaku drifted to sleep, he was unaware of the figure hovering above him. 

The shinigami waved his hand, and three candles appeared before him. The candle wax was quickly fading as the flames grew brighter, and the edges slowly turned from orange to a blood red color. A slow, twisted smile appeared on the Shinigami's lips, and his eyes still shined with hatred. 'You did not believe the boys words, all because of your hatred for him being a thief. Your fates have been sealed... Your actions that night is proof enough.'

Kiyoshi stared down at the struggling brat held between two of his most trusted disciples. he hadn't been fond of this child from the start. Not ever since the blind monk had taken him in after he had stolen one of the offerings from the altar of the kami Rajin. He did not care for the brat excuses; stealing from the offerings that he and the others had so meticulously gathered was a crime.

He knew he couldn't have done anything back then, but six months ago, he had the perfect opportunity to seek his own form of retribution.

Kaigaku struggled, his weak attempts at escaping the men's grasps proving to be useless. Their hold on his wrists and shoulders was tightening with each jerk and tug.

He glared, his turquoise eyes flashing with defiance. "You won't get away with this! I'll tell them! I'll tell them what you told—"

A swift slap to his cheek silenced Kaigaku's next words. The small boy staggered, a red handprint visible on his right cheek. The two men kept him upright with their iron grip. In response, the black haired boy clinched his jaw, refusing to give this lying man the pleasure of seeing him wince.

Kiyoshi knelt down at eye level, his dark green eyes glaring daggers into Kaigaku's turquoise own. His voice was calm, with an underlying tone of hatred leaseing every word that dripped from his lips.

"You won't tell a soul boy!" He hissed, his lips curling into a sneer. 

From his sleeve, Kiyoshi revealed a glittering double edged dagger. Even with the dim light from the setting quarter moon from outside, the turquoise-eyed boy could tell that this small weapon was dangerous. His eyes shifted from the knife to the slightly tanned face of the head monk kneeling in front of him. Kiyoshi then lifted the small boy's chin with two of his fingers and forced his mouth open, the knife drawing near.

Kaigaku stared blankly at the knife as it came closer to his open mouth.

What happened next Kaigaku would clearly remember, but what stood out to him the most was the sensation of pain, helplessness, and the taste of blood filling his mouth. He screamed, knowing nobody would be able to hear or care until he was dropped unceremoniously onto the floor blood coating his mouth. The boy reached up and covered his mouth with both hands, trying to stop the flow of the crimson blood.

Looking up through watery eyes, he saw the man hovering above him with a small sack dripping with something held in his free hand.

"Your execution will be tomorrow in the early evening hours. Enjoy your first and last night of silence, boy." The dark green eyed man then bowed mockingly at the crumpled form of Kaigaku and turned to leave.

Kaigaku shifted his body and turned his back on the trio of monks. He once more curled into a tight ball, staring up at what he could see of the night sky. He made a wish. 'I want someone to believe me. I don't want to be alone...'

Meanwhile

Yoriichi gave a small, grateful smile at the woman as he paid for a wrapped package before making his way towards the inn he and his student were staying at until tomorrow evening. 

As he passed by the front desk, a stack of papers caught his attention. Pausing, he grabbed one before continuing on his way. 

A foreboding atmosphere penetrated his senses once his hand made contact with the piece of paper. Yoriichi knew without looking what this piece of paper would say. Making his way inside their shared room, the maroon eyed demon observed the seen before him.

Giyu was riding in his recently purchased journal, a contented yet worried smile on his face. Beside him were the remains of half of his now solid red haori. The younger demons pointed ears twitched before turning to him worry filling his Heterochromia eyes. Ever faithful and silent as a shadow, the old crow quietly preened his feathers, perched on one of his master's horns.

The lantern's light flickered, casting long shadows in the mostly darkened room. The only other source of light was the partially open window, allowing the bustling town's light to shine through.

'There is a lot of tension around this town, ever since we arrived two days ago. It's growing stronger.' As if to emphasize his point, the ex-demon slayer began rubbing furiously at his nose. 

"I am also... worried about... the others, Tanjiro and Sumiyoshi." He added after a pause.

Yoriichi gave the younger demon a reassuring smile. "Everyone will be fine. My husband may not be a fighter, but he won't allow our grandson to come to any harm while we're away." As the maroon eyed demon said this he sat down across his student and handed him the package along with the piece of paper.

The creator of breathing styles then unbuckled a hidden white cat mask from beneath his haori sleeve and secured it over his face. He quietly observed as his student read over the paper. Yoriichi closed his eyes and slipped a rolled up piece of thick paper from his sleeve.

Without looking, he handed the thick letter to Kanzaburou. The old crow bowed his head before clumsily flying towards the partially opened door and out of sight.

By that point, Giyu had finished reading the flyer, now clenched in his shaking hands. Although his face looked ashen, his eyes held a different story. They were distant, calm, yet he knew the unbridled rage coursing through the younger demons very being.

The thought of any human being turned or killed made him fill with anger. Those lives, so young and just starting, snatched away as if they were nothing. To have a then six-year-old and a blind monk accused of murder was unbelievable. Yoriichi's mind flashed to the description his future niece-in-law gave of the monk turned Stone Hashira. His thoughts once more turned to the boy who was not so fortunate to escape his execution.

"I'm going to save him..."

Silently agreeing with his students quiet declaration. The Sun-Breath user decided to change the topic to a less serious yet just as important one.

"Giyu."

When his student looked up from crumbling the piece of paper into a ball he continued.

"Remember what you told me of my... grandsons funnel words after one and a half months of knowing each other?"

As he began to unwrap the package, the black-haired, red tipped demon nodded. "I remember..."

"I'm able to do many things, but solving a cryptic message isn't one of them. If there's anyone I know who enjoys a good cryptic message and solving riddles, it's either Kiriya. Or a slayer turned demon who's been with us for a long time now."

Giyu looked up curiously at the white wolf mask he was examining. "There's someone... else like me... And...?"

Yoriichi chuckled, a smile forming behind his mask. "Indeed, but she uses a different breathing style, and I hope to introduce you to her one of these days." Reaching out, he squeezed the younger demon's shoulder reassuringly. "I have faith in my friend to unravel my grandson's final message."

The water breath user gave a weak smile in return, but his mind was elsewhere. Grabbing the crumpled piece of paper, he smoothed it out and stared at the crudely made image of a young boy. His hands shook once more, wanting desperately to rip that paper into shreds! It would be so easy, especially with his demonic strength, but he would wait.

For now, he needed to calm his instincts, which were screaming at him to save and protect the young boy. Letting out a huff, he grabbed the remains of his once half-and-half haori and wrapped it around the piece of paper before shoving it down his backpack with the rest of his supplies.

Returning his distracted thoughts to his journal, he flipped to a fresh page and began to write, all the while humming a vaguely familiar lullaby. Across the table, Yoriichi quietly observed as his students features subtly changed.

Behind his mask, Yoriichi's eyes crinkled at the edges into a smile. 'You must be very proud of him, old friend.'

In the back of his mind, he felt the youngers worry for not only his grandson, but the child set to be executed the following night. Yoriichi let out a silent breath, allowing his senses to once again scan the area around the village. Allowing himself to relax at not sensing any demons near the area, he brought out his own writing supplies and began to write a reply to his husband's last letter of interacting with the current flame Hashira.

Later on the same evening~

On the outskirts of a sleepy village was a tavern away from the frequently traveled road. The tavern had two floors with a pointed roof, a porch that wrapped around the building, and three steps leading up towards the main entrance. A figure's shadow could be seen passing by a window before opening the door, their silhouette framed by the bright light of the interior as they made their way down the steps to another smaller figure.

The second figure had a green tessen fan covering their face, the only discernible features to be seen was the woman's black hair tied in a knot bun with two silver chopsticks and a lime green ribbon keeping it in place.

she wore a white juban underneath her horizontally stripped white uniform with kimono-like sleeves, silver buttons, and a black belt with a white skirt, reaching past her knees. Over this was a white kimono reaching down to the figure's ankles. The edges of the sleeves, the collar, and the lower half of the kimono were decorated in black feathers. On her feet were a pair of white lasted up boots reaching halfway up the figure's calf. Currently on her lap lay a white mask covered in white feathers, reminiscent of a crane.

The first figure sat next to the smaller a trey with a steaming cup of tea, a tea pot, and a mug of alcohol placed between them. The smaller one reached over and held the warm beverage close to her hidden face.

The second figure lift it up one of the drinks to her lips and took a tentative sip.

Pulling down her black cloak knee first figure was revealed to be a pretty young woman with pink eyes and black hair, the kimono underneath revealed to have a distinctive pink with white circles that blend into a snowflake pattern, often fading into blue, tied with a black obi (sash), featuring black vine accents and snowflake hairpins in her large hair bun.

"I'll ask you agai my friend, how have you been since finding out who the wind Hashira is?" Commented the demon, taking a deliberate, drawn out sip from her tea filled mug 

The other side heavily and seemed to slump as she brought the cup to her lips, the fan hiding her face from sight. "I don't know how to feel about the current wind Hashira. I'm... So, ugh! I know what I did was wrong... But to not acknowledge his brother! I-i-i just can't! I'm so so disappointed in him. I don't want to be, but I am..."

She winced, partly expecting the answer. ‘Oh my friend I’m so sorry. I know what you’re feeling. The one I care for is in a dark place under the thumb of a tyrant ruler.’

"Koyuki?" 

The young woman, revealed to be Koyuki, blinked brought out of her thoughts."Hmm?"

"Do you... do you think I will be able to find someone who actually loves...me for me?"

The taller let out an undignified snort into her mug before replying. "This again? For the thousandth time, you will find someone to love you. I'm only sorry that I couldn't give your bastard of a husband a proper agonizing death like he deserved." Koyuki growled, revealing sharp delicate but nonetheless dangerous fangs. Under her breath she added. "I only wish I would've gotten the chance to finish the job before having to save you from being burnt by the sun."

The other let out a laugh, clearly hearing the last part. "I don't blame you, Koyuki, you are a good woman, uh, demon. You saved my life, and thanks to you I'm able to protect my sons."

Koyuki grinned and playfully nudged her friend's shoulder with her elbow, a teasing glint shining and her eyes. "Now now, I care about you too, but not like that!"

The smaller figure burst out in fits of giggles before they turned into uncontrollable laughter. " I – I know... You don't think of me... In that way... Koyuki!"

The female demon grinned. "Good!Because I have been engaged twice in my life times, and I'm not fucking stopping anytime soon! Not until Muzan's ass is sent to hell!"

"CAW!  Letter for Koyuki, letter for Koyuki! CAW!"

The pair looked up from their bantering and teasing to see a crow flying precariously towards them. Leaping to her feet, Koyuki caught the descending crow with a swift jump and hand coordination. Flopping unceremoniously back down on the steps, she placed her mug beside her before allowing the old Crow to rest in her lap. Unfolding the letter, the female demon began to read its contents. Curious, the smaller figure stood and peered over her friend's shoulder.

"...Well I never, " commented the smaller, lowering their fan to reveal her eyes, the kamji for five glowing briefly before disappearing. "Looks like little Kiriya's patience paid off."

"Paid off my best brew tea!" Koyuki cried, her eyes glowing with the kamji for three. "Oooh! I knew he knew something was going to happen. The moment he began caring around that Kami dammit blue spider lily around with him wherever he went! How to make sure to make the most bitterest team imaginable!“

"I still can't believe you decided to eat a bomb!" Complained her friend.

"In my defense, I was surrounded by enemies and backed into a corner. Had a very least no one saw me regenerate. I admitted they had to steal a few clothes that are very uncomfortable." Koyuki admitted cheeks, turning pink with embarrassment. 

She could feel her friends disappointment flowing off of her in waves. Ignoring it for the time being, she turned and asked. "Want to help me solve this last message of old Yoriichi's grandson? Two female demons are better than one."

The smaller side as if resigned to her fate. "All right, but I'm not sure how much help I'd be."

Koyuki beamed and gently slapped her friend on the back. She gave a quick apologetic smile when she noticed her friend Stiffen at the action.

"Once this poor crow is rested and given something to drink, then we can start putting our heads together, Shizu Shinazugawa."

Chapter Text

The next night~

Village center~

Giyu leaned against the wall, the shadows obscuring his wings and horns. His eyes scans the crowd surrounding them With hatred and disgust. He wants to run forward and hunt down for the small boy who was framed for Murder. Yoriichi-senses hand grips his shoulder as a reminder to keep still and not do anything reckless, less they be exposed before the execution can begin.

The pair wore their usual clothing, with the addition of their masks. As for the supplies they came to get for repairing the temple and other supplies to make it a more permanent living space, they were hidden in a secure ditch hidden by a fallen log.

Earlier, they had come with the last stragglers who wanted to see the execution. However, despite both student and teacher arriving later, it did nothing to help with Giyu's tension. He could smell the eagerness of the crowd for the upcoming, unnecessary execution. 

Silently, the young demon made a promise to himself. 'If I find out that he's sick or injured... then I will gladly hunt down whoever thought it was a good idea to hurt an innocent hatchling...'

For the briefest of moments, both of his eyes turned maroon and seemed to glow with bloodlust, the air shifted. Then, suddenly, as it was there, the demonic aura disappeared. Yoriichi looked down at his student before glancing upwards at the crow hidden in the shadows.

'I know what I'm risking, Kiriya.' he thinks, absently returning his attention to the crowd and the execution platform in front of them. 'Though you already know.'

Meanwhile, Giyu's hands twitch, not for the first time reaching for a sword that is no longer there. The black-haired, red tipped demon lets out a quiet grunt. 'Hold on a little longer hatchling.'

Kaigaku does his best to look indifferent as he's being marched—dragged—to his death, but it's quite hard doing that when you're chained by your wrists. 

The fact the monks removed the collar around his neck isn't any comfort. He peers down the best he can while being dragged. The skin where the collar had dug was red and raw. It didn't look bad, but it hurt a lot to the point where he would have cried if it hadn't been for the monk's stationed on either side of his cell.

'Are they going to hang me?' He wonders, dread and fear filling his very being for the thousandth time that night. He also wonders the blind monk and Sayo must be doing at this time. He hopes they are well and not worrying about him too much. 'Sorry big bear, Sayo ... everyone, I'm sorry I couldn't tell the truth...'

Kaigaku wants to cry, curl into a little ball, and drown in his guilt. The black haired boy knows he cannot do that. What would everyone think? He might've not known what happened to the blind monk, but he was sure not going to fail all of those younger brats he called siblings, especially Sayo, wherever she was.

He would fight, they might have taken his voice to please whatever Kami he'd supposedly insulted,  but he wouldn't allow them the satisfaction of an easy kill.

All at once, Kaigaku stiffens, his turquoise eyes snapping to attention as they move down towards the rope now tied around his neck. Immediately he begins to struggle, thoughts of giving the monks and everyone else who believed in their lies a final rebellious act was snuffed away. 

He reaches up to hopefully give him enough room to breathe and somehow escape, but he can feel the ground move away from him before he is dangling in mid air clawing at the rope as he thrashes about wildly. 

Air, he needs to breathe, no matter how hard he tries, he can't stop the rope around his neck from tightening with every passing second and jerk he makes. Black spots begin to appear, the world going in and out of focus. Occasionally, he can hear people cheering or crying out in alarm.

He gasps in a last ditch effort to fill his lungs once more with air. Kaigaku struggles to recall happy times knowing this is the end. He wonders if he'll see the younger temple brats or if he'll have to go to hell for a bit.

He can feel something small and wet sliding down his face. '... Sorry... Couldn't... live...'

He attempts to blink, trying to stay conscious a little longer, and for just a moment, his vision clears. There hovering above him is a tiny white furred Wolf pup with electric blue eyes. He swears he sees lightning surrounding the tiny pup before it shifts into different white-furred animals...

Then his body jolts forward, and he's falling towards the wooden platform. A pair of hands reach out and catch him before the arms wrap around him. Kaigaku wants to smile in relief, but he can't. Someone must've cut the rope and caught him.

The world faded into complete darkness, taking away all of the aches and pains, including the one around his neck. However, the mistrust, which has been steadily growing over the past six months, is still there. Who would want to save him? Just who would want to risk the wrath of the monks? 

Kiyoshi could only stare, frozen to spot as two masked individuals practically flew through the gathered spectators and appeared on top of the execution platform. For a moment, he swears, by all the Kami above, he sees wings and horns on the smaller figure. Before he could order the guards he had personally hired to seize the two individuals, they disappear.

For a long time, the head monk blinked his green eyes, confused, before they sharpened, turning into rage. The rope has been cut, and the boy has been snatched from underneath his very nose.

He took a breath, schooling his features into an enraged, dignified scowl as he walked onto the platform and addressed his audience. He ignored the lingering sense of foreboding—the sense that he was being watched by one who wished him dead.

In a solemn yet determined voice, he declared. "Do not fear my people! We will have that murderer gone from this earth. A handful of my strongest samurai and myself personally shall go and hunt down this monster. We will leave no stone unturned and have his head upon a spear as proof!"

For a moment, there was silence before the crowd cheered, their cries echoing across the town center. The very few people who had decided to sleep early that night were awakened by the ruckus before they all eventually went back to sleep irritated it being woken.

Making his way off the execution platform, Kiyoshi let out a quiet breath of relief. He'd fooled them all—the town leader, the townsfolk themselves, and most importantly, his own followers. All that needed to be done now was find the brat and those other two masked individuals. He wouldn't allow for any witnesses who may know the truth of his... unsavory deeds to stay alive. For now he would do as he had said. Gather his best warriors and track down that devil spawn of a brat and ensure the Kami Raijin would be appeased.

"I will end your miserable existence myself...Kaigaku!" He spat, the boy's name coming out like foul poison.

Making his way off the execution platform, Kiyoshi let out a quiet breath of relief. He'd fooled them all—the town leader, the townsfolk themselves, and most importantly, his own followers. All that needed to be done now was find the brat and those other two masked individuals. He wouldn't allow for any witnesses who may know the truth of his... unsavory deeds to stay alive. For now he would do as he had said. Gather his best warriors and track down that devil spawn of a brat and ensure the Kami Raijin would be appeased.

"I will end your miserable existence myself...Kaigaku!" He spat, the boy's name coming out like foul poison.

Walking back to the temple grounds, he got to work. Calling over one of his assistance, he said. “Tell them to place wanted to posters the boy is dangerous. He may not be able to speak. His flower lies, but he still an accomplice to killing many innocent children. Whomever those two were, they must be acquaintances of the boy.“

“ do you think they were friends of the boys parents before he was orphaned?“ The young 15 year-old boy asked.

“Perhaps. “He said waving a dismissive hand. “Either way those two must also be brought to justice they freed a murderer from his own execution. That cannot stand they must face punishment for what they have done my young pupil.“

The next evening~

Giyu sat before a flickering campfire, numb to the world. He’s a white wolf mask was tossed haphazardly to one side wall The few supplies they managed to retrieve were gathered at the base of a tree not far off.

They had saved the young boys life and yet it wasn't enough. Not even his thunder breathing training could help him get onto the platform fast enough.

Yoriichi-senses words from an hour ago rang through his head.

"He won't survive passed tonight. His body is weak from whatever torture they put him through. Even if we were to get into a doctor there is a little chance he would make it."

Clenching his fists he stood from his seeded position and walked over towards boy across from the campfire. kneeling beside the prone form he gently placed a hand on The Childs bruised cheek, a single tear fell from his dark blue eye.

Through shaky sobs he began to sing one of his sisters many lullabies. All the The while he took in the boys thin shoulders and arms, the rest of his body being covered by a blanket from their supplies. 

"So hold me tight one more time—but don't kiss me goodbye—cause I know that I'll see you on the... Other... Side..."

Unclenching his fists, Giyu let out a shaky breath. Beginning to wipe away at his tears with his palms, he searched through his memories for an idea. He couldn't fail this child, he saved Tanjiro from being devoured by him. Of course that wouldn't have happened if Muzan hadn't turned him into a demon.

'Wait...' He looked down at his bloody palms, then at the unconscious boy, an idea slowly forming in his mind. 'If...Muzan gave me his blood...can I...'

Giyu's ears twitched, the earrings, making their usual clinking sound in the nearly silent night. A soft breeze ruffled his bangs, snapping him out of his momentary trance. Jumping to his feet, the former slayer practically threw himself towards the few bagged supplies he and his teacher managed to snatch while finding a more secluded part of the woods. Frantically, he dug around the bag he knew the cooking supplies were in.

It wasn't until he pulled his hand out of the bag with a knife now plunged in his palm that he stopped his frantic searching. Letting a relieved grin spread across his face he ran back to the boys side.

"I'd ask, but..." He admitted trailing off. Shaking his head, he pulled the boy's mouth open and held out his hand over it. Pulling out the blade, he began to make a long deep cut across his palm, allowing the blood to flow into the child's mouth.

A mouth with no tongue

On the outskirts of the clearing, Yoriichi's eyes glowed with a small smile tugging at his lips. He gently placed down two large boxes on the ground followed by another just as equally large sack of baby supplies. One of them will need to go back for clothing for their newest member.

Caulking his head to the side, he turned his attention to the now solid and visible presents that has been following him around for the past hour. The solid white wolf pup stared back before the pair turned their attention to the winged demon before them.

Yoriichi nodded to himself. “Good, looks like I’ll be training another Thunder-breath user.“ He said. “And another child to protect.“

Chapter Text

Three days later~

At the Sun temple~

Nighttime~

Sumiyoshi bounced his fussy grandson as he walked through the mostly empty sun temple. Compared to what it had been before two and a half months ago it could not have looked more different. The dust was gone, as was the mold and various weeds. The floor and the damaged pillars on the first floor were being repaired.

Sumiyoshi grinned down at his grandson. "Good thing we ran into him huh? Tanjiro."

In response, the infant began to squirm and the red eyed Demon gave him a fond, exasperated smile. Placing the child onto the floor, he began to make his way towards the entrance of the temple all the while he kept one eye on the now happily crawling infant.

The kind demon began to laugh. 'Oh you are going to run Giyu ragged. Either that, or those thunder breathing running exercises.' His face twisted into a grimace. 'No wonder there are very few thunder breath users.'

While musing on these thoughts, the pair entered the main entrance of the temple. Picking up the human infant Sumiyoshi quietly observed the figure before him.

The demon wore brown robes, the hood covering most of his head. His face, Sumiyoshi knew was covered by a bear mask.

The Brown robed figure turned revealing the bear mask in all of its glory. It was black in color with solemn brown eyes. On either of the masks cheeks and below the eyes were painted three diamond shaped cinnamon colored stones.

"Thank you very much for coming." Sumiyoshi said gratefully. "We'll be able to handle the rest." 

The taller demon nodded once before turning and walking away from the temple.  Sumiyoshi followed after a moment of hesitation and saw the demons head disappearing into the ground. Leaving a smooth patch of earth, as if the other had never been there.

"Hmm... " Sumiyoshi eyes grew sad after sniffing the air. 'He still blames himself...'

The nighttime breeze gently caressed his skin as he stood there, taking in the silence and beauty of the night. Red eyes scanned the nighttime sky before they focused on a particularly bright star.

Sumiyoshi close his eyes and made a wish—a prayer to Hinokami. 'Let Kyojuro and Giyu find each other again. I am unsure of how Giyu feels about the flame Hashira but whether they are to be friends or lovers. I merely ask for their paths to cross again.'

Opening his eyes the burgundy haired red tipped demon, let out a breath and smiled down at his grandson. 

Two weeks later~

At the Sun Temple~

Giyu ran through the forest, his solid red hori flapping in the wind. In front of him was Yoriichi moving in between the thick foliage of the forest. 

Continuing with using total concentration breathing constant, he increased his speed. With  lightning speed, he unsheathed the regular katana and aimed it for his Sensei’sneck. At the last possible second Yoriichi moved to his right and appeared behind his student, his own demon slayer blade, touching his students neck from the side.

"Well done,Giyu." Yoriichi said pleased. "I believe you have mastered the basics of thunder-breathing to its full extent after three months."

Giyu gave a nod of respect before collapsing onto the forest ground, his legs feeling as if they were on fire. Turning his head from its position he peered up at his teacher.

With the most respectful irate voice, he could muster Giyu said. "I hate thunder breathing... And I respect any thunder breath users who pass final selection..." 

Yoriichi chuckled in amusement. Sheathing his katana he reached down and pulled his student up. Giyu leaned heavily against his teacher as they made their way back to the Sun Temple. The older demon had to stop at one point in order to pick his student up and toss the younger onto his back.

Giyu let out an annoyed huff, but didn't protest further and instead wrapped his arms loosely around the taller demons neck. He was just about to drift off to sleep when Yoriichi-sense spoke.

"Giyu," he began, and once getting an affirmative hum, he continued. "I have taught you all that you need to know. You have... Mostly... mastered water breathing, and there is nothing I can change about that. But the reason why I taught you the basics of thunder Breathing is simple. In order to learn my breathing style you must have a basic understanding of thunder, wind, stone and flame breathing." He gave an amused smile, even though his student couldn't see it. "Not just me telling you stories of my formal students... "

The black haired red tipped demon frowned. "Need to... Learn how to use them... Not just listen to stories?"

"Exactly."

The pair continued on in companionable silence. There were no words needed to be spoken between student and teacher. As they continue onwards towards what Giyu was beginning to call home. He  could not help, but wonder how the little boy he had rescued not two weeks ago was doing.

Meanwhile

Kaigaku knew he was dead

He was hung, blamed for the deaths of his fellow orphans.

Opening his turquoise eyes, he stared blankly up at the wooden ceiling for a long time. slowly, but surely he realized that he wasn't on the education platform anymore. Bolting upright he looked around eyes wide with panic.

'Wasn't I supposed to die?! Why am I not in hell?'

Through his panicked state, he vaguely realized that he was in a mostly bear room safe for a fire pit and himself. His ear twitched, and he turned in the direction of where footsteps were coming from. 

Reaching up with his free hand, he felt his ears, his panic beginning to grow with every passing minute. His ears weren't human and he could feel something moving behind him. Looking over his shoulder, he noticed a white wolf tail wagging back-and-forth, and occasionally twitching with unease.

Shifting around  he brushed his fingers across the appendage until it connected with human skin.

Kaigaku tried to steady his breathing, panicking wouldn't help right now. Returning his attention onto the door he thought back to the execution... He had been hung. He was beginning to go  unconscious... then someone had—.

He was saved by someone but who?

"Sumiyoshi best leave it here."

"Oh? how come?"

A pause and then.

"... Don't give me that look, it's not a vision for Kami sake! I figured it would be best for him to meet the one who saved his life twice! Instead of everyone all at once."

"I see your point, and about that second time. I'm worried..."

"Hmm... Yes, he is like Muzan in the sense he's a demon progenitor..."

There was a long pause in which Kaigaku played around with the blanket. He wasn't sure what these two were talking about, but he was going to keep his eyes focused on the door. Shaking his head, he returned his attention onto the door when the first person spoke again.

"... and like the shitty first demon progenitor there's the rest of us. I am the fourth wisteria pillar, there may be only six of us, including myself—"

"Kiriya!" Chastised the first person? Demon? "We're going to find the rest of them, I promise."

"Do you even remember how the others were turned? I was born like this, the others were near death o-or had life-threatening injuries! Mirai was six years old when I turned them..."

"Oh Kiriya... Come here. Let's go into the kitchen and get you something to drink, OK?"

He heard one of the figures placing something in front of the door before the footsteps retreated.

Not daring to breath Kaigaku slipped out from the blanket and crept towards the door. Pausing for about three heartbeats, he cautiously slid the door open a crack, and saw a tray with a bowl filled with... Blood?

He wrinkled his nose, why would they give him blood? Still cautious he slowly slid the door open the rest of the way and retrieved the bowl. Leaving the tray behind. Sliding the door shut, say for an inch wide crack, he examined the bowl. Taking a sniff, his eyes widen and his mouth began to water. 

His instincts were screaming at him to drink the blood in front of him. Another part of his mind protested the idea. His instincts as a thief, and knowing he couldn't pass up this strange meal after escaping, his own execution ultimately make the decision for him.

He tipped the bowl back and drank the blood, knowing he needs to paste himself, but still keeping an ear out for anyone who might take his strange source of food.

'This is 10 times better than finding and eating maggots.' he thinks turquoise eyes shining with happiness as he feels himself begin to relax. 

His ears straightened, hearing a heartbeat coming towards him. Frowning, Kaigaku held the no empty bowl in one hand and made his way towards the door. Opening it, he raised the bowl above his head his feet positioned, ready to run. Or fight his way out of here. Maybe if he was lucky he'd be able to get some answers if whomever was there wasn't mad at him.

He stared at the empty hallway.

Looking in both directions, he eventually gazed down to see a baby with burgundy red tipped hair and red eyes with a strange flame like mark on the left side of his forehead.

The baby wore a blue kimono with white diamond patterns, checkered pants and white socks. Clutched in one tiny hand was an ear of a white stuffed animal rabbit with a turquoise bow arounds neck.

Kaigaku stared at the baby, bowl poised over the child's head, ready to strike.

The baby stared right back, his red eyes filled with curiosity.

Dropping his arm, he continued to stare at the baby the awkward silence enveloping the pair—well mainly Kaigaku.

'What are you doing here?' He asks. 

Right now Kaigaku needs answers. He can freak out and have a mental breakdown later...

Snapping his head in a particular direction, he stared as a figure made their way towards them. His muscles tensed, reaching down, he grabbed the baby from around his waist. This... Person? Damon? Was strange. He couldn't hear not one, but seven heartbeats beating one after the other.

Taking a step back at what must be a demon he took a moment to examine it. The demon had ram like horns, black red tip hair tied into a low pony tail. Two black wings, which seem to drag on the ground and heterochromia cat-like eyes. The left was maroon while the right was a dark blue. On his left cheek was a strange blue mark in a wavelike pattern.

He looked at the demons face for a few seconds longer. It looked almost feminine and pretty. 

"Good to see... your awake... Found Tanjiro... I see."

Kaigaku nodded, feeling the baby squirm in the demons direction. 'Where am I? Who are you? How am I alive? What happened to me?'

Giyu's ears twitched the earrings making their usual clinking sound as he considered whether to answer mentally or out loud.

'You are in the sun temple, I'm Giyu Tomioka and I turned you into a demon. Where able to communicate telepathically. Your tongue couldn't be grown back... I'm sorry. Myself and sensei barely reached you in time.'

Kaigaku reeled from the information and the fact he could speak mentally to this demon—Giyu. 'It's not your fault!' He blurted out. Allowing himself to calm down, he asked. 'Why did you save me? I don't—'

Giyu knew what was coming next. He wasn't about to let this child—who practically escaped death twice— say he wasn't worth living.

"Shut up!" he snapped and immediately regretted it. Kaigaku flinched and took a larger step back.

Wincing at his mistake, Giyu lean against the wall for support. His legs feeling heavy and numb.

'I'm sorry.' He mentally whispered voice sincere and guilty. 'Please don't say that about yourself. You deserve to live like me.'

'OK...' He eventually agreed. 'I'm Kaigaku, but I still don't trust you... '

"Fair." Giyu allowed knowing trust was something both delicate and strong. "I promise to protect... You. Tomioka's never... Break promises."

Kaigaku didn't know what to make of that. Allowing for them now very much fussy Tanjiro to be placed down he tentatively asked.  '...What do I look like?'

Giyu gave Kaigaku a small grin and gestured for him to follow. Looking down, he places on a stern expression and grabs Tanjiro. The baby squeals in happiness at having the demon pick him up. 

"Fussy hatchling... Aren't you?" he gives his youngest ward a mock scowl breaking into a broad smile.

Kaigaku looks on the interaction, reminding of how he would treat some of the younger Temple brats in private. Following Giyu, he can't help but notice how the taller demons hand pressed against the wall as they walk. He wonders why that is his curiosity grows as they enter what he assumes is the kitchen.

The kitchen was warm and inviting. Off to one side was the kitchen cupboards and counters. Towards the left was a door leading into what he supposes the dining area is. Another demon if Kaigaku had to guess from his strange heartbeat was absently cooking a pot of rice. Wrinkling his nose at the unpleasant smell of the human food, he glanced at Giyu for answers.

The demon looked up red eyes filled with relief as they went from Giyu to Tanjiro and at last Kaigaku. "Ah, you're awake Kaigaku. Giyu, the others will explain why I am cooking human food." A pause and then. "We wanted to tell you this later, but with everything going on. We agreed it would be best to tell you now, rather than you accidentally finding out."

Giyu blinked and nodded his head. "All right... thank you Sumiyoshi. Hopefully Kiriya ... Won't be... Vague."

"Ooh, you won't have to worry about him." Said the other demon shoulders slumping in what appeared to be exhaustion. 

'So he's Sumiyoshi.' Kaigaku realizes. He looked kind enough and he might be related to Tanjiro in someway. He will have to keep an eye on all of these demons for the time being.

"Let's just say... some unpleasant memories resurfaced. He's very quiet right now. My husband will be doing a majority of the talking." Sumiyoshi admitted.

Giving a quick thanks, the trio made their way towards the dining area where Kaigaku saw two demons playing some type of board game. The taller was wearing a white cat mask. The much smaller, black haired demon was cradling a teacup, and staring into whatever drink he was having.

"Yoriichi-Sensei, Kiriya." Giyu greeted, leaning his head in their Direction when speaking.

The taller demon turned his head and gestures for them to sit. Once the pair had seated themselves at the end of the table Yoriichi handed a small mirror over to his student, who handed it off to Kaigaku.

"A majority of newly turned demons wish to know what they look like. Kibutsuji demons are another matter, though."

"Kibutsuji demons?"

"That is what we used to differentiate ourselves from Muzan's Demons." Yoriichi explained.

The black haired red tipped demon given an understanding smile. He proceeded to ask about the human food Sumiyoshi was making.

Kaigaku meanwhile had stopped paying attention to the conversation around him. Every so often he would glance at the demon known as Kiriya.

His face looked pale, and his eyes were glowing? Shaking his head, he leaned in towards Giyu. He may not trust anyone at the moment, but the demon sitting next to him seemed like a safe bet. There is something about the oddly pretty demon that radiated calmness. Beneath the calmness, however there was the sound of something else... 

It was faint, but it was ther... power.

'Better not think of that for now.' he told himself forcing his gaze to the mirror held in his hands.

The face staring back at him is familiar say for the white wolf ears, and the two teal marks in the shape of lightning bolts, running down his cheeks. His eyes are the same say for the cat like pupils. He is tempted to open his mouth to see if he does have fangs, but he firmly keeps his mouth shut.

If he opens his mouth then... Then... Everything wouldn't have been some sick nightmare. He knows he was hung, but... His tongue, the knife, the monks unforgiving gaze...

He doesn't realize he's crying, curled into a little ball, his breath's coming out in uneven gasps. Vaguely, he feels arms around him, voices calling out to someone, but he doesn't know where they're coming from. He feels a hand, guiding his head to a warm chest.

His sharp ears, catching the sound of seven heartbeats thumbing all at once in one body. Kaigaku wants to pull away and run towards the room he woke up in. The steady breathing along with the heartbeats feel soothing him. The arms too feel warm and safe just like last time.

He doesn't dare open his eyes. Instead he allows for the exhaustion. He has been feeling to take over. For now he's safe.

'How long is it going to be until I have to leave? He's hunting me right now.'  

Unaware of his thoughts being projected to the demon who had saved his life. The Demons heterochromia eyes briefly flash, the same maroon color from that long ago night.

Kiriya looks up when he hears something fall. He winces seeing the young boy, turned demon from his vision, having a panic attack.

Quietly, he slips away from the table, teacup and saucer in hand. He absently waves goodbye to Sumiyoshi and makes his way swiftly towards his room. Once inside and the door was blocked from the inside, he placed his cup down onto the table.  Pulling out his writing materials he let out a breath. knowing this is the safest place he can afford while pillar sixes dormant.

Once he has lit his candle, closing his eyes the eight year-old, licking demon felt a few tears stream down his face.

Kiriya remembered that day in the snow. He could feel the blue spider lily running through the young demons veins. True, he might have misled the man into giving the blue spider lily tea to Giyu, but if he hadn’t, then who knows what could’ve happened. The last of the bloodline of Yoriichi might have actually been lost.. A bitter smile crept over his lips. The little Demon may not know of the fact he is a demon progenitor, or his ancestors sacrifice of standing between the first wind Hashira and Yoriichi, but his sense of doing what’s right was all Tomioka.

“No doubt you’re proud of your descendent Mizu… “He whispered in the quiet of his room. “And no doubt my ancestors are rolling in their graves for what I have allowed to happen.“

Even though he had told the others of his vision of the demon child, but feel like something else was wrong. Thankfully, no random visions had appeared, but still something told him that the young one had enemies and his long time of living to him anything it was that some people Like to do silence all loose ends.

He just wasn’t sure on how many people or what their plans were. Most likely from the information they all collectively had was that the unseen were humans.

Chapter Text

Two nights later~ 

At the village of Junsuina seigi~

Shizu walked around the village, smiling to herself. Tonight was peaceful and tranquil.

At the moment she was making a purchase for some alcohol she and Koyuki had run low on.

Paying theman for the alcohol the demon turned ready to make the long journey back to the bar when something up ahead caught her attention.

Shizu curious, walked over and grabbed one of the flyers. Her eyes grew wide with detect below the image.

“This boy is wanted Dead or Alive a hunting party has been sent out to retrieve this child who has murdered children six months ago at a nearby temple. He has escaped execution with two unknown individuals if possible, bring back all three of their heads and you will be rewarded.”

Below was a charcoal drawing of the accused by along with a description of what the two individuals were rescued, the boy were wearing.

Face going white, she rolled up the piece of paper and quickly made her way out of the village.

Koyuki needed to know about this. It was a good two days journey from the village two the Tavern, but if she used her blood demon heart, then she could get there faster.

Shizu once a good distance away from the village lifted the bag over her shoulders and ran down the dirt path heading towards the forest.

‘Yoriichi I have to get him for the humans do. No doubt to that other demon is the one briefly mentioned in Yoriichi letter.’ She thought using her bloody not to manipulate the wind around her alone or two pick up speed. In the back of her mind as she spent towards the forest, she knew that a demon was following her.

Internally, she winced, if she was heading towards that small human town or if she ran into humans then no doubt she would be putting them in danger. Biting her lower lip, pillar five shook her head.

It felt weak.

Right?

It just had to be why would a strong demon follow her? Her demonic or was suppressed true but no doubt to the demon could still sense that she wasn’t uman.

Either way a child’s life was endanger she had to run as fast as she could. Fumbling around for the wanted poster she scanned it again, hissing as she saw the time of when the first hunting party had gone out to look for the boy which was two weeks ago meaning during the two nights, she had been traveling these human to hunting down an innocent child. 

Two nights later~

Present time~

In a forest camp in camp in a clearing~

Kiyoshi's dark green eyes narrowed, observing the camp before him. Two dozen men a majority being criminals sat around various fires, beginning to cook dinner. A dozen men stood behind him, his two faithful disciples coming over and joining him standing on either side.

His black hair was tied in a bun, and his lips curled into a contemptuous smile. Thinking of the boy who had escaped his well deserved punishment. He knew the boy was most likely dead due to the various punishments he rightfully deserved. However, on the chance the wretched brat had survived. Then he needed to find him and silence the boy for good.

The boy may no longer have the ability to speak, but it didn't mean his saviors wouldn't teach him how to write. His plans would begin to crumble and control over the village would be for nothing. True the temple the demon attacked hadn't been his only so-called crime against humanity. He had worked with the demons multiple times before. He had survived long enough in this world giving those lowly creatures what they need to eat and riding the world of those unworthy people was a bonus.

His actions both past and present very much worth it.

'Do not fear my Lords and ladies. I shall rid this world of that creature to satisfy your wrath.' Kiyoshi thought mine returning to the next morning after the failed execution. One of his youngest disciples had woken him and had at once taken him to Lord Raijin alter. The offering, the candles the bowls, everything was destroyed.

Returning his thoughts to the task at hand, he turned and ordered. "There have been signs of human activity deep in the forest. Which is why we shall travel into the forest for 14 days. By the Kami we will find whoever release that criminal from his execution and make an example of them."

Kiyoshi smiled as the samurai cheered. This group were proper honorable men, unlike the ones he would be leaving behind. Just in case his group were in need of back up. It wouldn't be likely since he had personally chosen these men. They had no family or friends to return to. Their only possessions were their blades and honor.

"Very well, then my friends." He chuckled, moving past the group and into the dark woods. "Let us be off then."

He could not help, but smile, the moon shining above through the foliage. If there were those who had decided he was lying and those people were tracking him down. Then those thieves, murders, and rapists would no doubt make good use of the woman and child. He did have to admit the woman was quite pretty. In his humble opinion, she had no use for a katana despite its unique coloring. True, she had taken down a few unlucky men. To add onto the women's strangeness she had boldly declared her fiancé would not be merciful and that he was practically a walking breathing Shinigami. 

It was laughable at best, and a part of him felt pity for the women. No doubt she'd fallen under the clutches of some type evil spirit. Cautiously, he fingered the outline of the young woman’s blade Hidden in his robes.

Meanwhile~

Backl the camp~

A group of men were currently surrounding their two captives who were heavily tied to a tree. One of the men was cradling the remains of his hand as the women's pink slitted cat like eyes narrowed. Her sharp, delicate fangs clutched the man's hand, allowing for the blood to drip down her kimono. The little girl, not much older than three years old also glares, but it was less intimidating due to her current size. 

The young white haired girl inwardly grimace, scanning the group of men. She could easily get out of her restraints with her blood demon art, but there was her mother to think about. Ever since the incident with upper moon two herself and her father hadn't allowed for mother to be Alone. Mother was perfectly fine with the arrangement and seemingly preferred it. 

Although her father did tell her that eventually mother would grow weary of either of them. She had understood after being fussed over for a good 10 years. She had at one point snapped at her father and demanded for some space towards the end of the decade,. Father had allowed it and eventually he had come clean of his own past.

Grandfather—or the old man—as she privately called him, gave her father his scars before he became a demon. To add insult to injury, the old man was an enemy demon himself. She hadn't been so insulted on her father's behalf in her entire life. Not until mother had slowly begun coming into the picture, and the two overhearing some of the more nastier rumors the villagers directed towards mothers back. Or the upper moon two incident.

which... The less spoken of father's destructive nature, the better.

'No wonder he and the old man share the rank of moon and pillar one.' She held back a hiss as a different man took an idiotic step forward and mother began sinking her fangs further into the limb, still dripping precious delicious blood.

A good five minutes past before mother spat the remains towards the men's feet. A few took large steps back, their faces either going pale in shock or green in discussed. Mother needed what strength she could, she was the one in most danger. 

Her eyes raked over the man behind The group currently standing before them. She was not surprised of others, taking it as a challenge. 

She may be absolutely terrified of fire, but an excellent user in the form of flame breathing. It didn't mean she was stupid, growing up in the infamous red light district was beneficial at times and she knew these men were giving her mother those looks. 

If they did decide to rape mother than months, years of healing would've been wasted. Not to mention her little scheme with telling a few enemy demons of certain villagers and father killing said demons soon after would be for nothing.

It was a secret both father and daughter would never breathe a word of again.

Shifting around in her restraints, she was about to demand their captors to cut it out when a lit flame was chuffed in her face. Both mother and daughters bodies tensed, more so the younger demon,

Her lapis blue eyes widened in alarm. They could only focus on the moving flickering flames before her. Whatever then no doubt ugly human was saying she  couldn’t hear it over the ringing in her ears. The beginnings of being burned alive, tied up and helpless. The ones who had done this to her being sliced into ribbons. Blood flying everywhere as father danced, his black clothes blending into the shadows seamlessly.

While this was happening the taller female demon found herself being grabbed by a different human, a knife pressed against her throat.

"Let us make a deal, sweetheart," he purred beginning to press the tip of his weapon against her pill skin. "If you decide to pleasure some of us. We won't burn you and your brat alive, how does that sound?"

Her hands clenched into tight fist as her nails grew into clause digging into her palms. The pain and the smell of her own blood allowed her to momentarily clear her mind from the overwhelming fear she was feeling.

'Blood demon art: butterfly cycle caterpillar guide!' She thought frantically allowing for the blood dripping down to morph into a tiny caterpillar. Faster than the eye could see the small creature disappeared.

Releasing her chin, the man then stabbed her shoulder and slapped her across the face. Her pink eyes were wide with share terror before they hardened, masking her feelings and trepidation.

"You're just demons in humans skin!" She hissed spitting into his face.

Blinded by anchor, the man dropped his knife and grabbed her by her throat. "What did you say you bitch!"

"Go... To... Hell!" She gasped, pink eyes, blazing with defiance. She would not show this man the terror she felt as memories came back to her. She had been in a similar position years ago. Except those hands were pale and cold as ice.

The man who had pretended to not be listening, or drown into the commotion. A few other men began to gather around, curious and delighted at the scene before them.

"Are you done choking her? Why not just burn them alive already?"

"Why the hell would we do that? They're both virgins!"

“He's right! The head mock said we could do what we wish to them."

"Ahah... Stealing the kids virginity in front of her mother doesn't sound like a bad idea..."

"Here is an idea, we just skin them live. Or does anyone else know of other good torture methods?"

Everyone, both human and demon froze. The demonic presence feeling clear was not something any of the humans had ever experienced. It was like cold fingers were digging into their skin and an icy chill sent. Goosebumps up their spines.

Chapter Text

Two hours earlier~

The same night~

Tamayo can feel fear and anger clutch at her heart as she continues to run through the forest. Leaves and branches scratch at her skin only to have the minor cuts heal instantly.

The night like any other is dark say for the moon and stars above. It is particularly windy this night, but all of that does not compare to the adrenaline or running through her demonic veins. Slung over one shoulder is a packet of her notes and.  A handful of medicine. She tightens her grip around the hand of Yushiro's and with the other she holds Chachamaru close to her chest.

"Lady Tamayo I'll—"

"No!" She cries, her grip tightening further as they near the edge of the forest. "I won't lose you."

Before Yushiro can argue further, they come to a sudden halt. He grabs onto his lady and pull her back up before she can fall down the cliff. He appears down, noting the steep descent and the uneven rocks. They could easily regenerate what limbs they might lose, but the demon chasing them had a powerful blood demon art and he was noticeably quick. It would be in Yushiro's opinion too much of a risk.

"Found you at last traitor!" Snowed a raspy voice. The two demons turn, and the cat demon leapt down from his mistresses tight hold and hisses.

The Demon before them is nothing more than skin and bones, his hair made up of leaves while his skin is of wood. From behind his back are vine like appendages with thorns, moving about as if they had a mind of their own. 

"Oh, he'll be so pleased when I bring him your head." Snarls the words like Demon. "Blood demon art: vine imprisonment!"

Before any of them can move, all three demons have been tied in thick vines with thorns. The demon smiles, his thorn, covered vines buried deep within the soil. They grow, allowing for him to hover above the ground, smiling down at his prisoners. 

He Chachamaru let out an angered hiss, struggling to escape his bines, but they seem to grow stronger with each movement. Letting out a cry of pain, the vines grow thicker as the thorns pierced his flesh. With each cut, and with every drop of blood divines seemed to grow thicker and tighter.

Yushiro's muscles tense, not daring to move after what had happened to Chachamaru.

"Chachamaru, NO!" Tamayo cries. She can't stand to see her longest, living companion being in such pain, even if it's only temporary.

"Muhahaha!! Wonderful isn't it?! Anyone caught in my vines whether they be demon or human get their blood sucked by the thorns. Struggle all you like they only go stronger with each movement you make. My precious vines won't stop until they absorb every drop of blood even after death!!" The wooden forest themed demon explained.

Yushiro's blood boiled unable to stand his ladies distress or hear anymore of this disgusting bastards voice. "Shut up you hideous bastard! How dare you make lady Tamayo cry!"

"Impudent brat!" Cried the demon. He was just about to activate another part of his blood demon art when a demonic presence filled the air, followed by an erie whistle. Everyone froze in place looking at one another

Tamayo glanced at her companions, the demon holding them hostage, to then peering over the demons shoulder and towards the woods. Her lips pursed into a frown, knowing her eyes had caught movement from the shadows of the foliage. She attempted to feel for the demonic aura, but just as suddenly as it came, it had vanished. The whistling continued on for another minute or two, then it had also stopped.

The sound of a blade being unsheathed rang out through the small clearing. Tamayo blinked and a sword was at the demons throat. Holding the elegant, weapon was a figure dressed in a black kimono with white lining the sleeves and bottom. From her angle, she noted the demon was wearing some type of white uniform underneath. It was unlike the typical demon slayer uniform. The man's open kimono fluttered about his form as the wind continue to blow gently.

"Release them at once." The stranger said voice quiet and calm.

Leaning back the demon snarled revealing sharp fangs. "You want the honor of bringing them to him, don't you?! Well, you'll have to fight me! Blood demon art: leaf knives!"

At once, the demon's body was surrounded by a whirlwind of leaves. The small storm of Leaves shot out directed towards the stranger. The unknown swordmen slid backwards, nearly falling off the cliff. Tiny cuts, littered his body. He stood to his feet, and took a step back, abruptly his foot hung over the edge of the cliff.

Tamayo's heart pounded in her chest, waiting with bated breath for that brief moment of helplessness, followed by hope. knowing their savior would rescue them as odd as it sounded. Her eyes widened as the unthinkable happened. The stranger allowed themselves to fall back towards the steep cliff face. 

Returning her attention to their foe her muscles tensed, ready to use her blood demon art. She was unsure on how much it would affect their enemy, but she was hoping for something to work.

Their enemy began to make his way towards them, but for the second time that night, the four demons were surprised. The sound of flapping wings could be heard, they continued to move closer towards them. The same demonic presence briefly made itself known, and then the same stranger from moments before appeared between the two groups. The strange demon—for what else could this swordsman be—grunted stumbling a few steps before straightening.

"I won't ask again." The demon huffed. "Let them go and I'll let you walk away. Or... I can become your executioner this night."

"Haha... Well, what are you waiting for? Show me what you got!" Taunted the enemy demon unfazed by the others threat.

Their savior gave a long suffering sigh. "...Very well..."

Tamayo's eyes widened a fraction, noting the dark silver katana with patterns of purple crescent moons. She did not have time to think long for the demon let out a cry of rage.

"I'll make sure I send you two" he pointed a clawed finger at the stranger then to herself. "To my Lord so he may dispose of you before dealing with the fucking traitor! Blood demon art: vine imprisonment!"

"Total concentration. Moon breathing... Eighth form: Blue Moon."

'Wait moon breathing?! But wasn't that—'

The demon twisted their upper body and swung their blade, deflecting the demons vines. While tiny crescent shaped blue moons created a barrier for an instant before vanishing following the swords elegant movements.

"What the...?" 

"Moon breathing Fourth form: New Moon, Unseen Blade."

Adjusting his stance, the demon delivers a horizontal slash. 

"Ah! You call yourself a swordsman."

A moment later, the other demon appeared behind him, seemingly from the shadows. At the same time, his neck was separated from the rest of his body. 

From the Demons inner kimono, he pulled out a syringe. Kneeling down, he sheathed his sword and felt for one of the demons limbs. Finding it the swordsman plunged the needle into the dying demons arm. Once the syringe was full, he stood and grabbed a small box, storing the vile of blood inside.

Turning in the direction of where the three demons were still tied up, the swordsman made his way towards the group, his steps hesitant. Now that their enemy had been killed, Tamayo took the time to examine this Demon before her.

The demons wings were those of a dragons, his face covered by a white mask covering the upper half of his face. His hands were covered by black gloves. His uniform was white with silver buttons. The rest of his clothing consisted of black Hakama, black tabby socks, black leg-wrapped kyahan, and black sandals with the same colored straps.

Yushiro's eyes narrowed in mistrust. This demon might have saved them, but it did not mean he trusted this stranger. "Who the hell are you?!"

Lowering his head, the demon took off his mask and stated. "I am not your enemy and the day I swear loyalty to Muzan Kibutsuji, is the day hell is frozen over."

He didn't know who these demons were, but he could hazard a guess, considering the words the Kibutsuji demon used.

"You said his name." murmured Tamayo.

"Yes..." Agreed the other demon lifting his head to reveal a pale face to Yushiro. 

Grimacing at the slowly, dissipating vines Tamayo was able to make out a few features. His dark magenta eyes were vacant. On the upper right side of his forehead was a silver crescent moon shape demon slayer mark going around the entirety of his left eye. The tips of the crescent moon two inches apart from one another. 

Yushiro was about to open his mouth and tell this demon to leave, but the words caught in his throat. Without meaning to he let out an inaudible hiss. Unlike his lady, he had a far better view of the demons face. The scars were one of the most violent looking he had ever seen on a human or demons face. 

Tamayo froze following Yushiro's eyes, sensing her gaze the demon turned in her general direction. Giving the demon doctor a full view of the scars.

Five jagged lines went across each of his eyes. They started from above his eyes and ended in the middle of his cheeks. Across his face going vertical from left to right were five more jagged claw like scars. Two went across his forehead end partially in between his eyes. The third one across his nose, leaving the last two to go across his lips and jaw.

The scars were indeed horrible, but this man was a demon and more than often they didn't keep the scars they had as a human. Or if they did then the demons hit them well. However, these scars were nothing compared to the thoughts swirling in her mind. The face was all to familiar, from the spiky silver white, red tipped hair, to the shape of the eyes. This demon was strikingly similar to Yoriichi and his twin brother with a few differences. 

She highly doubted Muzan would allow for any of his demons to take on the face of the very man who had nearly destroyed him, let alone the use of a demon slayer blade.

It was risky, but she had a feeling that she could trust this demon. Letting out a sigh of relief, she felt the vines at last turn to Ash and release their hold on her. Quickly glancing at her companions, she noted Chachamaru's slower, regeneration. Rummaging through her pack she grabbed a syringe and plunged a certain amount into the demon cats back leg. 

Turning to their savior, she said. "My name is Tamayo, my assistant Yushiro and Chachamaru."

The scarred demon turned his head in her direction, his face slowly growing in horror. "Ugh! Rika has been looking for you everywhere! She is going to want my head... Either that or do combat with me."

Tamayo opened her mouth about to ask this Nichirin sword wielding demon multiple questions. She had no idea they were being searched for by a separate group. Shaking his head, he waved off   Tamayo's questions. "I know I have a lot to explain, but would you be willing to travel and help me. In exchange I'll send you to a place where not even Muzan is aware of."

"Hmm," Yushiro huffed. He wasn't pleased with the current situation, but if his lady was willing to agree with this demon, then he had to go with her. It could very well lead into a trap, and he was willing to protect her with every fiber of his being if that were the case.

Tamayo gave the demon a hesitant smile. "We are willing to go with you, but may I ask for your name?"

"Of course, Tamayo it's—" his sentence was cut off by a familiar sent reaching his nose along with the sensation of a caterpillar biting down on his earlobe. Gingerly picking up the creature with his pointer and thumb. He brought the caterpillar up to his face and frowned.

His fiancé rarely, if ever sent him one of her caterpillars. More often than not it would be one of her butterflies. However, his growing agitation during the past five days hadn't been helping. Not ever since his family members had been taken from him while he was patrolling the area for any of their current enemies.

His daughter and the love of his life were in danger. Placing the caterpillar on his glove palm he felt it shift in a certain direction and stay there. It wiggled around frantically before stilling. The caterpillar repeated this motion two times. Placing the caterpillar back on his earlobe, he turned his attention to his newly required allies. 

Giving the pair of demons what he hoped was a grim smile. He could not help, but think of his uncle's reaction. Or the demon doctors reaction when she discovered his demon progenitor. It was a pity he couldn't see right now. Either way he had a job to do.

"Introductions will have to wait... Tamayo, Yushiro, Chachamaru how do you feel like going on a rescue mission?"

"What are you—" began Yushiro

Above the forested area, three Demons clutched on to the back or arms of the 6'7" tall demon for dear life. As they flew precariously above the treetops, or on one occasion having to dodge a particularly tall tree, and its branches. On the other hand the demon was holding back laughter. It had been a long time since he had carried anyone else outside of his family, friends or allies.

'She is going to scold me silly, but it's worth it!' He thought, practically biting off half his tongue from holding back his laughter.

Present time ~

At the camp~

Shizu felt like someone was choking her for what these men had said to her fellow demon, and the young daughter made her want to throw up. Two  nights of nonstop, running, and hiding during daytime was nothing to laugh at even if she was a demon. She was still exhausted and she only had so much donated blood on hand.

Her plans had certainly changed, she didn’t regret it, though. The one thing she did regret was not bringing anything with her due to her, having to hide the large sack of alcohol before sneaking into the campsite.

Shizu didn’t know what to do. She could use her blood demon art, but that would only last for so long and she wasn’t yet used to killing humans. She held up the bag of donated blood. And appeared down at the two demons who were held captive. Biting her lip she regretted not bringing at least one of the bottles of alcohol with her two at the very least distract a few of the men. 

Her stomach twisted in uncomfortable nuts, remembering the beatings she had received from her husband… She remembered tearing into her own children, scarring her own son and…

Breast growing ragged from the shallow breaths, she was taking she peered behind pillar seven and her daughter. Two demons she did not recognize were standing behind the tree. The woman's face was pale. The man's hands were clenched into tight fists. Whether they were from anger or fear she couldn't tell. From what she gather from their demonic aura they weren't their enemies. Nor were they one of her allies.

She wondered just what those two had experienced to make them look so afraid, but she soon got her answer when bloodcurdling screams ripped through the already chaotic clearing. 

"... Oh my Kami... " Shizu breathed slowly, turning her entire body to face the source. If she hadn't felt sick before, then she wanted to pass out from the site before her. "... Now I understand why he's pillar one."

It seemed as though she wouldn’t have to do anything which was a small relief, though guilt still caught at her chest. If she hadn’t pushed herself, maybe she could’ve done something but her leg legs felt heavy and useless.

Tsukito Tsugikuni was and is the son of upper Moon one. His youngest, to be precise and his own last direct family member. He knew deep within his heart to that there were other descendants, distant, and faint he could feel them. Family bonds were hard to sever, especially if you were a demon.

He knew if he killed father or managed to turn him over to their side then he could get his stolen vision back. That was the deal the Shinigami and he had made.

Letting out a deep breath, Tsukito made his way forward, guided by the demon cats sent. 

"Chachamaru, get on my shoulder you won't be caught in the crossfire, quickly." He whispers. Ears straining to hear any humans coming their way.

Chachamaru's ears twitched. He was paying attention, but he did not understand at first what this young demon was saying. Looking over his shoulder the cat took a long look at the demon. It felt like ice coded his veins when he realized the truth.

Death clings onto this demon like an invisible cloak. Naked to the eye, even to humans and a majority of demons. 

Not animals and most certainly not Chachamaru. 

Demon the feline might've been, but even then he could occasionally see the dead as a regular cat. Many spirits surrounded him. Some were orbs of light while others are see-through covered in various wounds. The young adult looking demon seems to not be bothered. Yet he can see clearly there is something else about this demon. He is powerful and extremely dangerous, especially with those spirits surrounding him.

Making his choice Chachamaru ran and jumped towards the demons shoulder. Grimacing at the claws piercing his uniform and skin.  Tsukito grabs the demon cat and adjust him safely on one of his shoulders so as to not have the demon feline fall.

Without another word Tsukito's eyes flash with power. 

"Blood demon art: Rising soul"  He breathed.

Moonlight surrounds his hands, and he touches one of the spirits, a young girl, no older than six. The girls see-through body glows before taking on a shimmering solid form.

Tsukito smiles, sad and melancholy. The girl was so young, but if there was any comfort to be found, it was that she would be able to convey her feelings to her killer. 

At least that was his hope. It was hard to tell with spirits.

He was just grateful she only wants to talk to him. He let out a slow calming breath, remembering his first few decades of doing his job and realizing what his blood demon art could allow for some spirits to achieve before passing on. He had many nightmares and he was admittedly, terrified of what his blood demon could do, but after a certain Shinigami helped him, he managed to accept and embrace his abilities.

Walking forward, he feels the spirit of the killer fly out of his body and towards him five minutes later.

He really hated being wrong about children being less violent than their adult counterparts. Grimacing, he snatches up the ball of energy and promptly shoves it deep within his kimono sleeve. Moments after the little girl wraps her arms around his legs as best she can. Reaching down he pats her head. He can tell she is once more translucent by the energy flowing off of her. It is less solid and more of Downey feathers. Soft and delicate. She then slowly fades away, giggling all the while.

Tsukito huffs out a laugh, moving forward once more, and allowing for the vengeful spirits surrounding him to come forward. One by one he briefly gives them assemblance of a solid form. Panicked screams, fill the air from the humans around him, followed by the angered voices of the spirits. 

Tsukito shifts his weight from left to right. He can feel many bodies around him running in a blind panic. Most would find this disturbing. Being unable to see and hearing the dying screams of humans. For the white haired, red tipped demon, it was another night. He did not feel any sympathy for these men.

"Please please I—"

Not moving from the spot he reached out for the soul. He rolled around The strange ball of energy between his hands.

"You know you deserved that." He said, shoving the spirit into his sleeve before catching another one. "I mean... Killing your own son on his wedding night because he looked so much like your deceased wife? Really?"

He gave his best murderous glare at the next soul he held. "Why do you think I only handle the humans who die by the hands of demons and the demons who were killed by the slayers? Because at least those spirits stay where they were killed or unwillingly hang around the demon who killed them!" He snapped, continuing to snatch up spirits. All the while acknowledging the non-Demon related spirits, having moved on by themselves without his or a Shinigami's help.

"This is why I only help out with non-demon related spirits part time. The Shinigami have had more than a couple of centuries doing their job."

Tsukito knew he should stop venting to the spirits. However, it had been several nights he had been separated from his family. He just wanted to get some sleep without constantly being on edge. He wanted his daughter and fiancé safe. Plus his future wife knew how to handle his nightmares when they decided to rear their ugly heads.

Pushing down any thoughts of his sleepless days. He returned his attention to the bloody festival of chaos surrounding him.

'A majority of these humans have killed at least a good handful of these  human spirits.' He realized. 'I'll have to be quick about it, but with so many humans and spirits I won't be able to use my usual methods. If only these humans were demons.'

"You son of a bitch!" A thief cries charging towards him from behind.

Tsukito grimace's at the yelling and dodges the incoming attack in the nick of time. He stumbled and crashed into a human.

'Crap, I was too caught up in my head again. I can't give the spirits life and fight all at once. Maybe if I use my moon breathing... No I can't do that. It's too risky, no matter how effective it is at summoning spirits without draining, my energy.' He remarks, grabbing onto the human and once locating his neck he twisted the head sharply. Satisfied for the moment he drops the corpse unceremoniously onto the ground.

"Come on monster show us what you can do!" Goaded another human followed by the click of a gun. 

BANG!

Tsukito fell onto the forest floor his knee giving out as the bullet pierced his leg. The grass felt nice beneath his skin. Gingerly he felt around and grabbed Chachamaru by the scruff, hauling him back onto his shoulder. Shifting around in his now awkward kneeling position, only one Thought rang through his mind.

'Ow...' He deadpanned.

Being clawed by his father was far more worse and not just in the physical sense. 

Turning to the calico cat, he said. "Chachamaru prepare to jump. I'm going to do something."

Leaping onto his feet, he grabbed the demon cat by his scruff and launched him towards the nearest human.

Chachamaru yowled his claws automatically digging into the humans head for purchase once he landed. The human underneath him screamed, attempting to rip the cat from his face. By instinct, his claws sunk deeper into the humans face for support. The large thief yanked on the cats tail desperate to get rid of the menace. However, the demon cat allowed for his instincts to guide him. He clung on for dear life, attempting to gather his thoughts for everything was happening all at once. From the forest demon chasing his small family across the woods, the blood demon art draining his energy, to the demon, rescuing them, said Demons erratic flying and at last the current situation he found himself in. 

There was only so much a cat could take demon or otherwise.  Chachamaru felt his tail being tugged, tensing for a brief instant, he unleashed his pent up emotions. He had just about enough of this night! If this human wanted to play then Chachamaru would just have to show him his claws.

Raking his claws across the humans face, he looked around and spotted a much thinner gaunt looking human. Scrambling on to the bleeding humans shoulder. He jumped onto the shorter humans shoulders.

Allowing himself a moment to gather his bearings Chachamaru growled at the human, daring him to let go or push him off his shoulders. He was very pissed off and not just at the human he was using as a perch, but at the blind demon. 

A smaller sensible part of his mind realized the logic in all of this. The demon could not see so sent and hearing were the next best thing. Even so with the warning, he could've at least told Chachamaru what to do before the humans realize their plan. Throwing him was logical yes, but it was also reckless!

Chachamaru was smart, and so he would go along with this plan, but not even he could predict the sheer chaos which would be unleashed on the clearing.

Pillar one then does something most would not believe him capable of. One would think he would be giving off an air of elegance and dignity, and most of the time it would be true. 

This assumption, of course, comes with an advantage. Breathing in deeply, the blind scarred demon runs forward, his black kimono, and wings moving about wildly as humans attempt to dodge out of the way of the reckless demons path. 

What many fail to see during this brief moment of sudden movement allows for the right amount of time for his hand to move to his side where he pinches a stitched outline of a weapon. 

To any outsider it may just be a strange type of decoration, but he knew better. The next moment he has a Wakizashi held in his hand.

Tsukito has some semblance of dignity. He won't stain his katana with human blood. His Wakizashi does the job perfectly. Especially considering how clustered the clearing was with humans. 

Chachamaru bites down on the arm of a human and  Tsukito turns to where the cats scent is. Swiftly, he cuts open the humans stomach open blood and other fluids flowing out. As much as the white haired demon would love to give each and every last one of these thieves, murderers and rapist, slow agonizing deaths he knows they can't. Such a large group of humans don't just come into the woods for no reason.

The humans upper head is cut off, leaving the body to fall onto the ground. The  calico cat let's go and guides Tsukito to were Obanai is finishing up with ripping off the head of the last human.

"Tsukito it's been a while since I've seen you spattered in blood." Shizu said, climbing down from the tree. Apologies that I couldn’t do anything and that I left everything to you.“

Tsukito gives a tired sigh, knowing his night is far from over. He had to meditate and ask for an audience with a Shinigami in order to get rid of the souls that he has gathered this night.

“It’s all right, I understand you feeling uncomfortable fighting humans.

Shizu accepted the apology, though she still feels uncomfortable and felt like she could’ve at least used her blood demon art to help out instead of staying hidden up in the trees.

A white haired, little demon girl and her mother make their way towards the two demons,. They are followed more hesitantly by two other demons Tamayo and Yushiro.

Shizu handed her fellow female demon the bag of blood she had on hand, to which Kanae gratefully took it with trembling hands and cut a small hole near the top corner beginning to drink. She knew it would take a few days to heal from the malnourishment of not drinking the necessary blood or what human food she could stomach. If there should ever be a fight in the future, then she would be unable to help.

And then there was her stolen demon slayer blade by that monk. Goosebumps ran up her arms. She did not like that look in the monks eyes not in the least. 

"Father!" Exclaimed Ume leaving her mother's side and running over hugging her father's legs, tiny arms, wrapping around him in a fierce hug. "I knew you would find us!"

A familiar arm wrapped around her current toddler size form. She allowed for a few tears to escape her lapis blue eyes before pulling away and rubbing at her eyes, still giving a shaky smile.

Tamayo cleared her throat, picking up her feline companion asking. "Apologies but who are all of you exactly?"

"Ah my apologies, Tamayo.  My name is Tsukito Tsugikuni."

Everyone else looked at one of their and decided it couldn't hurt introducing themselves to these demons. They did not have the same demonic as one of the demon King's own.

"Shizu." Greeted this small demon nodding her head respectfully while keeping a hold on Kanae making sure she didn't lose her balance.

"...Kanae, and that little one is my adopted daughter Ume. " she introduced. " It's nice to meet you and I see you already met my fiancé."

"... I see. " Tamayo eventually said. "I still have many questions. I know all of your demons and yet you are not one of Muzan's. "

"As I said earlier, I'll take you to a safe place." The scarred demon reassured. "But... what brings you all the way out here?" 

He directed this question to Shizu who gave a word look at the two new demons before directing her case to the taller demon. “I was originally going to tell pill three, but since you’re here, I might as well tell you about… Oh no, they actually followed me.“

Unsheathing her demon slayer katana she whipped around muscles dancing. The serpent tissue could hear pillar one doing the same. 

Tamayo watched on outwardly composed, but  her mind was racing. Muscles tensing once again. The ground beneath their feet began to shake, and a demonic aura was slowly growing closer as  the distant sounds of trees falling over along with many branches snapping got louder and louder. A dust cloud could be seen far off in the distance. Birds that had originally been nesting in there homes flew up into the nighttime sky. Their cries lost as what sounded like hundreds of feet could be heard coming towards them.

Pounding up dust and kicking away anything and everything that got in whatever was inside that dust clouds path.

When the dust cloud was near enough Tamayo shielded her face with one arm. The demon came to a sudden stop kicking up dust, covering the group in a good thick layer of dirt. Rubbing away as much as was physically possible from her eyes, she looked up and stared horrified.

Their student demon his lower half being that de 30 foot long centipede while the upper half. Was that a man with regular human clothes. 

As if things could not get worse, the demon‘s body shifted and ripple, and from either side came out two more demons splitting away from the man. Now the men’s centipede body was only 10 feet long, matching the boy on the man’s left who cannot be much older than 15. The woman on the right side looked slimmer, and her centipede body appeared to be made for speed.

The boy centipede did not wait for permission and lunged for the nearest human corpse, his many likes clicking against one another as it reached out with his claw like hands and snatched up one of the corpses beginning to devour it. 

Tamayo released a shaky breath. Tonight was certainly one that she had not expected. Hopefully she would get her answers soon but for now it seems as though her new allies and herself we're going to be dealing with this centipede demon family before the night was truly done.

Chapter Text

As an author, this sucks and I hate being one of those authors who do this, but I’m going to be doing a major rewrite.

My reasoning? For one thing there are way too many characters that I could handle most of them being in a matter of sense original characters.

The second to being there is a lot and I do mean a lot of what I feel is unnecessary nitty-gritty world building then I just can’t keep track of even when I was doing my monthly updates. It was easy up until past chapter 5.

Thirdly, I will not be deleting any chapters instead, I will be rewriting behind the scenes and updating the chapters 6, 210 onwards. Just any mention of the gods chosen a blessed blessed bloodlines that’s all going to be scrapped which really sucks because I did put a lot of work into this, but I feel that it’s just way too much World boating, and not enough in terms of the characters. I really want to focus on..

I’m more than happy to explain any more of my reasoning down in the comments below and I know I will most likely lose Raiders and just in general long time Raiders and I get that you only be disappointed in me and I’m disappointed too because I really didn’t enjoy writing this, but I’m a hot holder and I have more experience. This was after all my first demon slayer story and I have a better grasp of where I want to take this universe. I’m gonna be sick and slightly closer to

This was for me going to be a found family demon type of story before getting into the canon universe and exploring Giyu’s found family being a demon and learning how to live again.

Once again, I hate doing this, but I feel like I really should because I just don’t like it anymore. Too many extra characters too many of world building and I thought I could handle it but looks like I couldn’t. This still does hold a special place in my heart And hits a story that I won’t stop writing not anytime soon. I just lost the direction of where I was heading.

I hope you understand and apologies for a long time Raiders and for any new readers