Chapter Text
Shakily getting to his feet, the boy zeroed in on that unforgettable scent. One that bore such close likeness to the one left in his home that day.
It wasn’t Muzan Kibutsuji, he knew.
Though, this demon’s scent was the most akin to his that Tanjiro had yet encountered.
The untouched bowl of udon slipped from his slackening grip and shattered across the pavement when the scent had first struck him, worse than any physical blow. Stepping through the pile of waste at his feet, he snagged his sword and shot off into a wild sprint following the lingering trail. Bursting out into the crowd, Tanjiro maneuvered carelessly through the sea of people. The outcries of indignation and surprise from those he shoved past fell on deaf ears, his focus intense in it’s singularity.
The potency of the demon’s scent increased the closer he got, and a cold realization washed over Tanjiro. The creature he was chasing… was in a entirely different league than that of the swamp demon he just faced. This one was strong. There was no doubt in Tanjiro’s mind that this demon had slain countless, the putrid stench of death which clung thickly to the air told him as much.
The unfamiliar part of Akasuka he was heading into was much tamer than the bustling, alive streets back near the market. The overbearing brightness that had assaulted him earlier turned bearable as the strung lanterns decreased. And the lack of those unfamiliar mechanical carriages was apparent. Distantly, he took account of the stumbling women who hung off the arms of even clumsier men. The odur of alcohol was immense and unpleasant, but wholly drowned out by the sickening metallic the demon gave off. Tanjiro kept his pace, undeterred. He was close, so close he was sure to come across it any minute now, and—
There!
He’d only caught a glimpse as the being turned into a back alleyway. A tall man, with platinum hair which ran down the entirety of his back. The creature looked very humanoid, from what he could tell. Even without seeing his face, he knew it couldn’t possibly be disfigured like a normal demon. He’d walked through the street without notice!
Tanjiro’s steps stuttered momentarily, because maybe the demon knew? Why else would it slink away from the masses, if not to confront him or flee? He could tell even from this distance that it was alone, so it hadn’t hid to devour any innocents. Nevertheless, Tanjiro gave chase—he couldn’t allow the demon to escape because of his indecision. Master Urokodaki had taught him better! Hands already moving to unsheath his blade the moment he was out of the public eye, Tanjiro transitioned smoothly into his breathing.
With anticipation strumming beneath his skin, Tanjiro rounded the corner—!
Nothing.
It was empty; a rotten smelling dead end of an alleyway. Litter and deteriorating wooden crates lay scattered in a disarray. Tanjiro didn’t let his guard down. He had been right to be wary. The demon knew he was being tailed, and lured him away to seclusion. Irritation was stark in the air, mingled with the copper of blood.
Though, oddly enough, the scent of the demon hung heavily in the surrounding area. It saturated the air, more than it should have. The demon had been here before, then.
Without precedent, the atmosphere turned frigid. Goosebumps erupted on his skin, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood at attention.
It was here.
The temperature kept dropping, to the degree that Tanjiro could see his breath materialize in foggy puffs. An intense sting in his chest made him immediately clamp a hand over his nose and mouth. Tanjiro knew the cold intimately, having grown up on the snowy mountain side. Nothing natural could’ve turned the air that cold so rapidly. A Blood Demon Art—?
Tanjiro was thrown into the brick wall at the end of the alley and slumped to the ground before he could even register what had happened.
Black splotches consumed his vision, and a terrible ache spread from his back. It was unbelievably fast! Tanjiro chastised himself for the blunder. Come on… come on, pick yourself up, damn it!
“My, my, you’re quite a measly thing.” A pair of sandaled feet entered his slowly returning sight. The demon crouched down with his hands resting atop his knees to inspect the boy closer. “I can’t recall the last time a demon slayer was able to track me!”
Tanjiro barely heard what had been said. With mounting horror, he realized that his sword had been dropped at the mouth of the alley. It had flown out of his grasp from the impact of the attack.
Still lying amongst the trash, he dragged his eyes away from the ground and up to meet the demon’s, and was perturbed by the vacancy of the gaze pinned to him. Rainbow eyes, that practically glowed in the dark. Tanjiro’s eyebrows drew together in confusion at finding characters engraved in the irises.
Upper Moon Two?
“So, I’m quite curious...” Tanjiro grunted, moving to stand and jump away, but a hand planted itself on his shoulder, effortlessly pinning him in place. “How one of your caliber managed it, hm?”
His attempts to flee toward his dropped blade and hopefully gain back some ground abruptly stopped. Fury ran hot and burnt away the small, primal voice in his head telling him not to egg on the creature that was so obviously stronger than him.
“It wasn’t difficult,” Tanjiro spat, “your scent is horrid! Just how many have you slaughtered?!”
At that, the wide smile the demon wore wilted, and bewilderment marred his features. “My… scent? You poor boy, you must have really hit your head hard!”
Shaking his head, the man’s face morphed into one of sadness. “What a tragedy that I must take the life of one so young and weak. You’re fortunate to have encountered someone as kindhearted as I. Don’t worry, your death shall be…“
The demon droned on still, but Tanjiro was lost in thought. He couldn’t understand why the front hadn’t been dropped yet. They were alone—he didn’t have to perform to fit into a crowd of humans and keep appearances… So, why bother with the charade? This demon felt no actual pity for him! The man’s scent hadn’t changed in the slightest from the irritation he’d been giving off since Tanjiro had first entered the alley. It was perplexing, and frankly, insulting.
”Don’t give me that! You don’t mean a word of it.”
The demon’s free hand had been moving to pull out what appeared to be a folding fan, but it stilled at the outburst. His other hand had not moved from Tanjiro’s shoulder, though it clamped down uncomfortably. “What?”
He hadn’t expected any real reaction, but the demon’s scent spiked in a way that Tanjiro could not decipher. Offense? Whatever it was, the demon was affected. Well, he’d be damned if he didn’t bank on it and stall for time. If any luck, Matsuemon would alert someone, anyone, that he needed backup. And Tanjiro hoped desperately that Nezuko had remained on that bench, and that his little sister would not have to fight for him again.
Despite his continued silence, those intense rainbow eyes did not part from his own.
“I can sense your emotions,” Tanjiro quietly clarified. “Through your scent, I mean. I have a good nose.”
The demon’s grin returned at that. “Hm, hey, hey, that sounds familiar…” The golden fan disappeared from his free hand, and without warning, a clawed finger was shoved into the demon’s own temple.
Tanjiro stared in mild horror at the scene unfolding, unable to say anything. What is… what is he doing? Don’t tell me he’s trying to jog a memory, like that?!
“Ah-ha! I have met a demon slayer previously who had spoken of enhanced senses!” The demon was outwardly excited, but his scent told otherwise. “But never have I heard of smelling emotions! How strange!”
A lapse, then—
Tanjiro blinked, and the demon was no longer crouched over him, but standing at the mouth of the alley. Holding his sword. Tanjiro clenched his jaw, springing to his feet in anticipation of a coming attack. Though, nothing came. The man simply turned it around in his hands, narrowing his eyes in consideration.
“You must be quite a new swordsmen, huh?” A statement, not a question.
Tanjiro knew it would happen before it did, but wasn’t fast enough to prevent it.
“You won’t be needing this where we’re going!” The demon preceded to snap his blade in half like it was nothing more than a mere twig, all while wearing a closed eye smile.
Tanjiro had little mind to pay attention as he considered how he would proceed forward unarmed, but color quickly drained from his face when his brain caught up with his ears.
“Where we’re going?” He parroted in trepidation.
A blur—then, nothing.
On the other side of Akasuka, two figures approached a sleeping girl, who sat slumped over on a bench outside an udon vendor.
“Lady Tamayo, are you sure about this?”