Chapter Text
Up in the mountains, snow would fall so slowly it almost seemed to float. Giyuu sat now by the engawa of the Kamado household, the warmth behind him comforting against the biting cold. The air was thin and the snow was so thick his entire foot sank with every step. How the Kamados lived with it every day, Giyuu would never know.
Suddenly, the sound of two pairs of footsteps grew louder and louder behind him.
“Tomioka-san, we got you some tea!” the girl said brightly. Hanako, if Giyuu remembered right. She held up a tray with a steaming cup of herbal tea.
“Oh,” Giyuu said. “Thank you.”
“Okaa-san made it with the blue spider lilies that grow around our house,” her older brother, Takeo, added. “Thank you again for saving us from that demon, Tomioka-san!”
“It is really no problem,” Giyuu mumbled as he accepted the cup. The demon that attacked the Kamados was a weak one. Hardly the sort of danger his crow’s intel led him to believe.
He took a sip of tea and glanced up, only to see the kids still staring at him expectantly.
Giyuu began to fidget under the pressure. What exactly was it about him that made the Kamado children dote on him, this past day? He didn’t know what else to say.
“...You should thank my crow,” he finally said, looking away. “Kanzaburo led me to the village where I found the demon.”
The children both gasped. “You have a crow?”
“Where is it?”
“Oh, I’m… not sure. He got lost on his way here.” And forced Giyuu to navigate the rest of his way to the village. But oh well, he was used to it. Kanzaburo was getting old.
“Then you should stay here a few more days!” Hanako said.
“Yes, so we can see Kanzaburo!”
“I really have overstayed my welcome,” Giyuu insisted.
“Nonsense, Tomioka-san,” Kie, their widowed mother said, as she approached them. Wide awake in her arms was her youngest son, only a toddler, who stared at Giyuu with wide eyes. It still amazed him that all the Kamados, even the youngest children, were up and wide awake at this hour. “You saved my family’s life. You’re welcome to stay for the year, if you’d like!”
“No, thank you.” Giyuu paused as Kie’s smile faltered, so he quickly corrected, “I really must be off to my next mission soon.”
“But your crow hasn’t come back yet,” Hanako pointed out. “You can’t find your next mission without it!”
Kie laughed as Giyuu grew flustered. It was easier to explain talking crows to children than adults. Thankfully, she didn’t question it. “Well if that’s the case, you simply must stay until your crow comes back.”
Giyuu nodded, taking another sip of his tea. Though he’d hardly done anything to deserve such hospitality and gratitude, he knew better than to offer helping Kie with chores again. The previous night, when he tried to help, he’d been scolded, and all the kids made him sit down in the corner with a warm bowl of soup. You’re our guest! We can’t have you do any of our chores!
Still, Kie looked awfully tired as she held her toddler — Rokuta, if he wasn’t mistaken. He still stared wide-eyed at Giyuu.
“...May I hold him?”
Kie smiled, as his words seemed to prompt the boy to reach out to him. “Of course.”
As soon as Kie handed him over, Rokuta clung to him, burying his small face into the red side of Giyuu’s haori. The sight made Giyuu’s heart clench, despite himself. He imagined a lifetime ago, his sister once held him like this, though he doubted he was ever nearly as warm as Rokuta.
“Okaa-chan, I’ll be off!” Tanjirou, the eldest son, called out from the clearing, holding a knapsack full of coal.
“And I’ll go with him!” His sister, Nezuko, hurried next to him, glancing between her mother and Giyuu. She held a knapsack of her own. “If that’s alright?”
Kie frowned. “Nezuko, are you sure?”
“I want us to have a big feast for New Year,” Nezuko insisted, pulling up her knapsack. “If I can help Nii-chan sell twice as much as coal, then I’ll do it!”
Well, at least this way, I can be of some use, Giyuu thought as he held Rokuta.
“What?! No fair!” Shigeru, their younger brother, cried out as he ran out from the back. “I wanna go too!”
The two younger kids began to protest as well, but Kie shook her head, “Now, now. We still need enough hands around here to take care of our guest, don’t we?”
Before Giyuu could protest, Nezuko spoke up, “The snow also made it too dangerous to take the cart. Right, Nii-chan?”
Tanjirou had been staring strangely at Giyuu this whole time, like he wanted to say something. But he blinked as Nezuko elbowed him. “Ah, yes, that’s right! I’m sorry, Shigeru!”
Their younger siblings all groaned, but finally relented. With that, Tanjirou and Nezuko left to trek down the mountain. The three younger siblings went off to the clearing to play ball, leaving Giyuu with Kie by the engawa.
Kie sighed. “Nezuko, that girl… Would it be alright if you held Rokuta today, now and then?”
Giyuu nodded. “Of course.”
It’s only then that he looked down, and to his surprise, Rokuta was sound asleep in his arms. His small hand still clung to Giyuu’s haori. The sight of it eased an ache in his heart that he didn’t realize was there. When was the last time he held something this precious?
Giyuu did not deserve it. Not their hospitality, not their warmth, none of it. Yet for whatever reason, they seemed to like him.
Though he planned on leaving the moment the eldest siblings came back, Kanzaburo or not, he thought, It would be nice to visit this family again.
“It’s late,” Giyuu said. The sky had already gone dark, but Tanjirou and Nezuko had yet to return. “I should go find them.”
“No, it’s quite alright, Tomioka-san,” Kie said, amidst trying to calm her worried children. “Tanjirou and Nezuko know how to handle themselves.”
“Are you sure?”
“They must have slept over at Saburo-san’s house. They’re smarter than to try and go up the mountain at this hour.”
“But—” Giyuu froze.
He felt an overwhelming bloodlust outside the door.
“Tomioka-san?”
He stood up, holding his sword. As he approached the door, he saw a man in a suit standing outside in the distance with glowing red eyes. “There’s a demon outside.”
Kie held the kids back from running over to check. Quickly, Giyuu ushered them further into the house. All their eyes had grown wide with fear, even Rokuta’s. “Stay here and be quiet. I’ll take care of it.”
As he stepped outside and closed the door shut, he saw Kie mouth, ‘Thank you.’
Steeling his resolve, Giyuu turned around to make his way onto the clearing. His eyes met the demon’s gaze. “Oh? A slayer all the way up this mountain?”
He didn’t deign to respond. Talkative demons always irritated him the most, all their blustering and remorseless glee in all the lives they took. So he let the demon’s words wash over him.
“It’s polite to respond when spoken to.”
“You’re a demon,” Giyuu said as he unsheathed his sword. “I have nothing to say to you.”
The demon in front of him emanated an aura more powerful than any demon Giyuu had ever fought before. He dressed strangely, too. A modern suit and fedora Giyuu had only ever seen in cities.
He must have a non-physical Blood Demon Art, then. His clothes are too well-kept. Would he be good at illusions? Giyuu’s eyes flickered to his hands, frighteningly human-like. The claws would manifest at will. A shapeshifter? But a demon like that shouldn’t feel this strong.
Too strong. It felt as though Giyuu was staring down an endless abyss of malice.
The abyss's eyes stared back, slitted and stark red, with no numbers on them whatsoever. His heart fell into his stomach.
This isn’t a Lower or Upper Moon—
“Ah, you must have realized who I am, haven’t you?” Kibutsuji Muzan’s lips curled into a wicked smile. “And yet here you stand. You must be a Hashira. Most slayers would have fled by now.”
“I’m not a Hashira,” Giyuu said as he willed his hands to stop trembling, gripping his sword tighter. “But I will not let you take another step further.”
Giyuu knew he would not win. But if he died now, this intel on Kibutsuji Muzan would never make it back to his comrades. If he died now, so would the kind family behind him. He took a breath.
The snow was drenched in blood that night.
Where happiness is lost, you'll always find the scent of blood.
Tanjirou dropped his pack a few paces before the clearing. Nezuko shot him a worried look. “Nii-chan, what’s wrong?”
“I smell blood,” he said, feeling panic rise up in his chest. The stench of blood and death was overwhelming.
He ran and Nezuko followed. His heart sank when he noticed an emptiness in the trees that usually surrounded their home. Trees fell. Trees that stood tall in his ancestral home for generations, cut down? How? Why?
They gasped once they finally reached the clearing. Ahead of them was Tomioka, the kind swordsman who’d been staying with their family, now a bloody heap on the ground. The snow around him was stained red.
“Tomioka-san!” Tanjirou followed the scent to their house, while Nezuko ran to check on Tomioka. Blood stained her kimono. “Tomioka-san, what happened—?”
Their gaze both found their home at the same time. The shoji door to their house had been ripped off, revealing bloody limbs and guts — their family, their bodies strewn in pieces all over the floor.
They screamed. Blood marred every corner, every wall. They couldn’t tell whose leg or arm was whose. Tanjirou checked every body for a pulse, a survivor, anyone, but they were all cold. Nezuko fell to her knees by the engawa, still screaming like a wounded animal.
This was a nightmare. Surely, Tanjirou was still dreaming back in old man Saburo’s house, wasn’t he? Everyone was just fine yesterday. Why, why were they all dead? Okaa-chan, Takeo, Hanako, Shigeru, Rokuta — all dead. Their eyes were blank and lifeless, their dismembered bodies bloodied and pale under a thin crystallized sheet of snow. “Nii-chan…” Nezuko croaked. “Is anyone…?”
Tanjirou swallowed the bile in his throat. He whimpered, “They’re all dead.”
“Who did this?” Nezuko cried as she ran over to him, grasping Rokuta’s little hand. He was only so small, yet so cold. “W-Was it an animal attack?”
Tanjirou shook his head, his lip trembling. Amidst the overwhelming stench of blood, he couldn’t detect the scent of a bear, or wolf or any sort of animal. But… he could make out one scent. An overwhelming malice. His eyes widened. “It must have been a demon…”
Demons are man-eating monsters that come out at night, Tanjirou recalled old man Saburo’s words just last night. Tomioka had told them the very same thing.
“Tomioka-san—!” Tanjirou realized out loud, and ran back outside. The swordsman still lay in the snow outside, pale as the snow and facing away from their home. His uniform and haori were torn, gored with blood.
Tanjirou’s gaze darted from Tomioka’s sword, unsheathed in his slack grip, to the damage on their home’s engawa, to the fallen trees surrounding them. Did he die defending them against the demon?
Tanjirou reached for him and gasped. Tomioka was still warm.
A crow flew by just that moment, its squawks loud and grating almost as if it were crying out. It seemed to snap Nezuko out of her shock, as she nearly tripped over her kimono, stumbling out and onto the snow.
Tanjirou looked up at her with wide, tear-filled eyes. “Nezuko, he’s warm!”
“He’s still alive…?”
By the sheer amount of red in the snow, they knew he wouldn’t be for long.
“Help me carry him,” Tanjirou said, pulling Tomioka’s arm up and around his shoulder. “If we can get him to a doctor, we can still save him!”
Nezuko blinked back tears and nodded, quickly following suit and taking Tomioka’s other arm. With great effort, the two started trekking down the mountain.
Even with Nezuko to help carry him, every step still burned Tanjirou’s muscles, as Tomioka was still a grown adult, slumped between the two of them. His feet dragged against the snow and left a trail of blood. The air was thin, and Tanjirou’s teary eyes stung against the cold. He could hear Nezuko holding back sobs between her labored breaths.
Tanjirou wanted to cry. While he and Nezuko had slept soundly in the warmth of old man Saburo’s hut, death had claimed their home, and he wasn’t there to protect them. By the sound of his sister’s cries, he knew Nezuko felt the exact same way.
Still, the two of them took one step after the other. If they couldn’t save their family, then please, at least let them save this kind stranger. This brave swordsman who saved their family from a demon just days earlier, who'd fallen last night defending them once more.
They’d reached the part of the path just by the cliff when Tomioka seemed to wake. He let out a pained groan. “Please, hang on, Tomioka-san!” Tanjirou said loudly. “We’ll definitely save you!”
Tomioka’s groans grew louder, and more guttural. Tanjirou then felt resistance, as the swordsman planted his feet onto the snow. He lifted his head, though his dark bangs obscured his eyes. Blood stained his pale face like water through cracked porcelain.
“Tomioka-san, don't stand up, you're injured!”
Tomioka struggled to break free from their hold, grabbing Tanjirou's shoulder. Why is Tomioka-san’s hand sharp? The swordsman’s weight leaned them further and further to the wayside of the path. “Tomioka-san, we’re near the cliff,” Nezuko warned. “We might fall—!”
They fell.
The wind whistled in Tanjirou’s ear as he fell, until he hit the snow. It was soft enough to break his impact, but his back ached terribly. He hissed, pain making every movement feel like fire.
With great effort, he looked up and blinked the haze from his vision. In front of him, Tomioka was standing, his haori slipping off his shoulder. Hadn’t he fallen as well? Tanjirou had to help him, but trying to get up sent a jolt of pain in his back. “Tomioka-san, you’re hurt! Don’t—”
Tanjirou’s words died in his throat as Tomioka looked up and bared his fangs. Fangs?
Next thing Tanjirou knew, the swordsman lunged for him.
Fear leapt into Tanjirou’s throat, his breath stuttering. Tomioka was snarling, wild and mad. Why was he attacking him? Blood and panic roared in his ears, telling him to run, but Tomioka’s claws were already on him. Since when did he have fangs? And claws?
The claws pressed down against his chest, heavy enough that if Tanjirou moved, he would draw blood. He couldn't grab his axe, so he had nothing to defend himself with. All he could do was meet Tomioka’s inhuman gaze, slitted and glowing blue.
A demon, he realized too late, wide-eyed and about to die. Tomioka-san became a demon.
Before Tomioka could sink his fangs into him, a scabbard caught between his teeth. Nezuko heaved him back with all her might. “Nii-chan, run!”
Tanjirou stumbled to his feet just in time to see his sister struggle against a violent and thrashing Tomioka. Before he could even help, the swordsman threw her over his head in a fluid motion, and she hit the ground with a hard thud. “Nezuko!”
Tanjirou tried to take out his axe, but Tomioka knocked him out with a swift backhand to the temple.
The fear and adrenaline drained away as his vision went dark. The last thing he saw was Nezuko, unconscious beside him in the snow.
Finally, Giyuu thought as his meal finally fell unconscious. He would have two meals now. The sight of them alone made his mouth water.
His stomach ached terribly, screaming at him to fill it, to eat. And every instinct in his mind, every cell in his body told him that the two children laying in the snow before him would fill him right up.
He knelt and grabbed the green one’s arm, baring his fangs.
Get up, snarled a boy’s voice. Giyuu paid it no mind. Live prey was more satisfying to consume, anyway.
I said get up, Giyuu, the voice repeated, angry and cold. Giyuu tilted his head. His meal was unconscious, its mouth unmoving. Who was speaking?
Close your mouth. Stand up straight like a man. Don’t you dare eat these children.
Giyuu froze. He felt a small, calloused hand against his left shoulder.
Get up, Giyuu. Close your mouth. To eat these children would be the most unforgivable sin. Cross this line, and you will never see us again.
Another hand, delicate and warm against his right shoulder. It was a young woman’s voice this time, quiet and simmering with disappointment.
He closed his mouth. Shame burned down his throat, as he dropped his meal’s arm and stumbled to his feet. It was as if the hands pulled him back. His haori burned against his back. It burned.
You must not harm humans.
But he was so hungry. He needed to eat, to fill the gnawing pit in his stomach. Just let me eat, he pleaded.
We gave our lives for you, and you would eat these children?
As if one of them had forced his head downward, his gaze found the two meals before him, shivering in their sleep. Humans. Children. Not food.
How dare you?
“I—” I’m sorry, he wanted to say, but his words caught in his throat. He stared wide-eyed at the two children in the snow, one in green, one in pink. Though they slept, their expressions were that of restless terror.
He stared up at the cliff from where they fell. Where the Kamado house was now bloody and broken with the remains of their family. Their widowed mother, their four younger siblings—
Giyuu remembered warmth in his arms. Seven pairs of innocent eyes full of warmth and gratitude. Warm tea and laughter and white unmarred snow.
“I-I’m sorry,” he repeated again, his words broken and stilted. He looked down at his hands, now ugly, sharp claws. He felt fangs in his mouth, fangs that nearly mauled the children asleep before him.
It wasn’t enough that he fell to the demon that murdered the Kamados. That he failed to protect them, costing these children their every happiness. No, Giyuu was now a demon as well, and he nearly ate them.
He wanted to run into the sunlight and die with what little dignity he had left.
Do not throw your life away.
The voices jolted him out of his stupor. Voices, familiar voices. Sabito. Tsutako-neesan. Oh, how he’d longed to hear their voices again, even if they sounded so disappointed in him.
Please, he begged. What must I do?
He wanted to see them. He wanted to turn around, but the hands held firm against his shoulders, and he couldn't move.
Please. Tears ran down his cheeks.
Silence. A harsh cold breeze swept past, and took with it the hands against his haori. Gone.
And then the child in pink whimpered in her sleep. “Okaa-chan…” Next to her, the boy in checkered green let out a shaky breath.
Giyuu stood there for what felt like eternity, staring down at the two Kamados as they shivered against the cold.
Then finally, he blinked back his tears and knelt down, laying them into more comfortable positions against the snow. He took off his haori and wrapped it around them. It would be no good if a bear or a wolf came along to harm the siblings while they slept, so he sat down and waited.
He didn’t know what else to do.
“Tomioka Giyuu is dead! The Water Hashira has fallen!” an old crow cried.
Nezuko opened her eyes to see tall trees and white snow. Her back and left shoulder ached terribly, and a groan escaped her.
The last thing she remembered was holding back Tomioka from mauling her brother to death. She gasped, “Nii-chan!”
Sure enough, next to her was her brother, stirring from sleep as well. He blinked wide-eyed at her. “N-Nezuko? We’re… alive?”
Slowly, they both sat up, though every fiber in Nezuko’s muscles screamed in protest. Falling off a cliff and getting thrown to the ground by a swordsman would do that. Though she realized a familiar mismatched haori covered both her and Tanjirou, like a makeshift blanket.
Nezuko froze as she and Tanjirou finally noticed the man sitting next to them. Tomioka, quiet and calm as he was before. His blue eyes were still glowing and slitted, his hands still clawed, his fangs peeking out from his mouth. But he only stared at them dully, not at all the same man who attacked her and her brother.
“I’m sorry.” Tomioka’s voice was quiet and halting.
Nezuko’s eyes widened. Somehow, Tomioka had retained his humanity. He hadn’t eaten them.
“Tomioka-san,” Tanjirou started. “You… you’re a demon, now?”
He nodded. “Yes. I attacked you. I’m sorry.”
Tanjirou and Nezuko exchanged a look. Aside from a few bruises and soreness, they were both mostly unharmed. But their family…
“Tomioka-san, what happened last night?” Nezuko asked. Part of her still hoped it was still a dream. That their family still waited for them up by the cliff above them.
“Your family was killed by a demon,” Tomioka said, looking away. Nezuko’s heart fell. Did he…?
“I know it wasn’t you!” Tanjirou leaned forward. “You tried to protect them, didn’t you? You still held your sword when we found you. There’s no blood on your mouth. And your scent… it’s different from the one in our house.”
Nezuko’s mouth fell open as she realized he was right. It explained the trees, fallen outside their home. A battle so fierce must have taken place, if someone like Tomioka had fallen. She could imagine it, clear as day: that night, Tomioka had noticed the demon and shut their family inside, facing off against the demon alone. Then the demon defeated him, and murdered their family.
Tears brimmed in Nezuko’s eyes as she remembered the sight of their mangled bodies. “Who was it?” she asked, leaning forward.
“I can’t say.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’ll both die if you go after him.”
“He killed our family,” Tanjirou cried. “He’s probably going to kill so many more if no one stops him. And he turned you into a demon!”
“You can’t stop him,” the swordsman said. “He’s too strong.”
“Someone has to!” Nezuko interjected. Her eyes fell to his uniform, torn and bloody as it was. “How do we become demon slayers?”
Tomioka shook his head, took back his haori and stood up. Nezuko gawked in indignation, looking back at her brother, who shared her resolve. “Tomioka-san, tell us how!”
They both stood up and followed him as he walked away and put on his haori. “You’ll both die. I can’t allow that.”
“Then where are you going?"
Tomioka’s shoulders slumped, but he didn’t stop walking. “...I don’t know.”
“Then we’ll find a cure,” Tanjirou said. Nezuko nodded fervently. “We’ll turn you back into a human, Tomioka-san!”
“There is no cure.”
“We’ll find it!” Tanjirou insisted. “We’ll find the man who killed our family. And we’ll find a way to cure you. Please believe in us!”
Tomioka finally stopped walking, staring at them in disbelief. Nezuko felt a small satisfaction, figuring he should finally give in to their stubbornness — they were Kamados, after all. He must think that if he didn’t tell them how to become slayers, they would inevitably just throw themselves at demons until they learned.
Finally, he sighed, completely turning around. “I… could bring you to my master. The one who taught me how to be a slayer.”
Nezuko sighed in relief, while her brother beamed. “Please do!”
He stared at them still, with those unreadable, slitted eyes. “He lives a few weeks’ journey from here. I think.”
“We’ll have to pack our things,” Tanjirou said to Nezuko, his expression faltering. “And… we need to bury our family.”
Ah, right, Nezuko realized with a sinking heart. They had to lay their family to rest and give them peace, despite their violent death. Still, the thought of seeing her family’s broken and bloodied remains made her sick.
Nezuko took deep steady breaths as the three of them trekked their way back up the mountain, to their house. Tanjirou stiffened as the scent of blood must have reached him. She wanted to cry.
“I’ll bury them,” Tomioka said.
Before Nezuko could protest, her brother beat her to it. “What? No, we can’t ask that of you!”
But Tomioka was already walking to the shed where they kept their tools. “Where do you keep your shov—” He froze.
“Tomioka-san?”
The swordsman suddenly slapped a hand to his own mouth. He was visibly shaking. Nezuko and Tanjirou ran over to check on him, only to see his blue eyes dilated, and drool leaking from the bottom of his fist. Yet his brow was furrowed, a disgusted look on his face.
They followed his line of sight into their home, where their family’s bodies lay. Nezuko quickly averted her gaze. “It’s the smell of blood, isn’t it?” she heard Tanjirou say sadly. “You don’t have to force yourself, Tomioka-san. Nezuko and I can do it.”
Tomioka shook his head. He walked over to where his sword lay on the red snow and picked it up. “Give me a moment.”
Confused, Nezuko and her brother watched him cut a small piece of wood from one of the fallen trees. In quick fluid motions, he carved it with his sword to be the size of a small cylindrical muzzle.
Then to their surprise, Tomioka dropped his sword and bit into the wood, hard.
“Tomioka-san, what are you doing?” Nezuko asked, but the man ignored her and continued to their shed, taking out a shovel.
“He’s… using it to restrain himself,” Tanjirou realized. They watched in solemn silence as Tomioka dug out five graves in the clearing, all the while clamping his fangs onto the bamboo piece.
Nezuko bit back tears as he started to take one body after another from their house, bloodied and incomplete as they were. He gently placed each of them into their respective graves. Tanjirou held her hand as they approached the graves, kneeling in front of the nearest one. Rokuta, or what was left of him. Her brother let out a choked sob.
They looked up at Tomioka, who waited patiently with a shovel in hand, and nodded. The swordsman started filling in the graves with dirt. When he was done, he took off the bamboo muzzle, wiping his mouth with his haori.
“Thank you,” Tanjirou said, his voice cracking into a whisper. Together, he and Nezuko prayed for their family, for their souls to find peace.
By the time they were done, they found Tomioka standing quietly by the engawa, still as water. His sword was now sheathed and buckled onto his belt. In his hand was the muzzle. Nezuko’s heart ached with gratitude.
“Will… you use that again?” she asked. Tomioka nodded, so she ran inside the house, averting her gaze from the bloodstained walls and making a beeline for her drawer. She took out one of her favorite ribbons and ran back to him. “Here. You can attach it to the wood to hang around your neck, so you don’t have to carry it around all the time.”
“Oh,” Tomioka said, taking it with his clawed hands. “...Thank you.”
Nezuko returned a bright, yet shaky smile, then joined her brother in packing their things.
With their knapsacks full of their most precious items, they gave what remained of their home one last look. Once so full of life and happiness, taken away in one dark night. Nothing was left for them here.
Nezuko’s eyes brimmed with tears once more, but she felt Tanjirou grasp her hand, giving her a reassuring smile.
Tomioka waited patiently for them by the forest, his bamboo muzzle hung around his neck with the ribbon Nezuko gave him. “Let’s go.”
Hand in hand, the siblings followed him into the forest and down the mountain. Goodbye, Okaa-chan. Takeo. Hanako. Shigeru. Rokuta. We’ll be off.