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Chapter Text

Training with Urokodaki was hard.

Between the endless climb to the top of the mountain— where the air was thin and nearly unbreathable— and the dangerous traps on the way down, Tanjirou had accumulated a seemingly infinite number of bruises.

There were many times a day where he thought he was a goner– sometimes he slipped and tumbled down a pronounced cliff, other times he reacted a second too slow and was inches away from getting himself impaled.

But despite all the deadly traps, and the loud crashes and screams of his disastrous climbs, he couldn’t help but be surprised by the lack of wildlife around him. Normally he could smell deer crossing his path, or small mice or raccoons wandering away.

But while the mountain was alive and well, somehow Tanjirou had yet to see a single creature.

Of course, there had to be, because the meat Urokodaki put on the table was always fresh, and he could hear the birds cawing up on the trees.

But whatever whiff of animal he could catch was old and tenuous, as if no animal had walked these paths in a very long time.

(Although, he couldn’t exactly blame them, he thought as he hung upside down, his left leg caught in yet another trap and the blood slowly rushing to his head.)

He thought it was odd, but he had far more pressing matters at hand. Training to become a demon slayer, and caring for his sleeping sister.

Normally that would have been the end of it, just a wandering thought, a shrug and that was it. But as he practiced his katas, as he swung his katana until his palms bled, he began seeing something lurking under the shadows of the trees.

It began with shadows, and glimpses out of the corner of his eyes. It unnerved him, whatever scent they carried lost amidst the green of the forest. It made goosebumps spread over his arms. Even if animals were a muted smell in general, he normally had no problem smelling them out if he focused. Whatever was lurking in the shadows, avoided him with their very scent.

There wasn’t much he could do about them, even if they started appearing more and more often, so he decided to ignore them for the time being.

They sat just on the edge of his vision, watching him train, keeping him company while he struggled to cut himself loose from yet another rope around his ankle.

Sometimes he thought he caught a whiff of them, as fleeting as the edge of their tails flickering just out of sight. Something airy and different in a way he couldn’t quite explain.

He was pretty sure they were foxes, in the same way he was pretty sure Urokodaki didn’t secretly want to kill him.

(That is to say, a sixty-eight percent certainty. Maybe eighty, the food he made was very good. Even if he kept making Tanjirou puke it right back.)

It wasn’t until he was trying to break the gigantic boulder that he finally came face-to-face with what lurked in the shadows.

By now, he had grown used to their presence, they had been watching him for the better part of a year, like a warm hand on his back pushing him onwards.

They watched as he trained, as he got beat up by Urokodaki. As he struggled fruitlessly against the massive boulder in front of him.

Tanjirou had never minded, because they weren’t judging him. Their gazes, along with what he could perceive of their scents were nothing short of curious, maybe even hopeful.

So perhaps that was why, when they finally came out of the shadows, he was not afraid.

He did yelp, he did fall back on his butt in surprise as a rather large fox appeared out of nowhere sitting atop the boulder, looking down at him.

“A man shouldn’t whine like that. It’s unseemly.”

Quite literally.

Tanjirou gaped, trying to understand how the fox was speaking to him—had he hit his head? Maybe the thin air of the mountain had finally gotten to him. Was he hallucinating?

The fox kept talking, perhaps uncaring of Tanjirou’s lack of response. The sneer on his snout was prominent, even if it lacked malice. “Any suffering must be bore in silence...”

His coat was odd as well, a distant part of Tanjirou couldn’t help but think. A warm peach, rather than the dark black, or vibrant orange he was used to seeing.

A long, jagged scar decorated the left side of his mouth, gnarled and painful and stripped of fur, a stark contrast against his near black snout.

Just as he was admiring the fox, white fangs gleamed with a snarl, and the creature was lunging at him.

Tanjirou scrambled back, and in the second he took his eyes off him, the fox had disappeared. Instead, a young teen was flying through the air towards him with a wooden sword ready to crack his skull open. Tanjirou shrieked as he moved away, but he ended up tripping on his own two feet and nearly impaling himself on his blade.

And so he ended up at his mercy, wooden blade at his neck, the stranger towering over him.

“Kitsune… mask…?” Tanjirou managed to wheeze out, his brain on overdrive.

“…If you call yourself a man, that is.” The teenager backed away in a single jump, letting Tanjirou belatedly scramble to his feet.

“Who are you!?” He demanded to know, blade finally raised to defend. The stranger was dressed in an oddly familiar kimono, the pattern niggling at the back of his mind, with a white haori draped over it. He also wore a white kitsune mask with black sclera and a terrifying gaze. A similar scar to the fox’s was painted on the corner of its mouth, and the shaggy hair that peeked out from behind it was peach-colored.

Just like the fox.

“Weak. Immature. That’s not what you call a man.”

His scent washed over to him, like a rising tide, no longer camouflaged by the green, and mellow tones of the forest.

It was like sea breeze, salty and wild. It reminded him of a crashing wave, frothy and crisp and clean like morning dew. It was as contradictory as the undertones of copper and blood that strengthen with every swing of his wooden blade, held in one hand, as he beckoned him closer.

“Show me what you got!”

Tanjirou had many disagreements with this lunatic that showed up out of nowhere, but he decided to focus on the most pressing issue. “That wouldn’t be fair! I’m holding a real katana, while you’re just wielding a wooden one!”

The stranger threw his head back and laughed. Like mist disappearing with the morning sun, Tanjirou could have sworn he saw a fluffy tail wagging behind him as it faded against the darkness behind.

“How sweet!” He exclaimed, a hand on his hip, looking ridiculously smug. “You’re worried about me?”

Then the menacing aura returned as he bent his knees and dropped his voice to a guttural taunt, with the violence of a storm at sea.

“Do you really think you can hurt me?”

He disappeared in a flash, nothing but a disturbance in the air in his wake. Tanjirou barely had the time to raise his sword in a clumsy block before the hit connected.

He gritted his teeth against the force, but before he could try to think about returning the blow, the stranger’s weight disappeared and suddenly he was being kicked in the head.

He rolled on the ground, barely aware enough to try and not impale himself on his own blade again.

What followed was the most brutal beat down of his rather short life.

The spar —fight? Brawl? One-sided beat-down?— didn’t so much as end, as Tanjirou just passed out cold after a particular hard hit to the head.

Dark oblivion followed.

“Why didn’t you use the Water Breathing technique?”

Tanjirou opened his eyes, feeling as if he was finally surfacing for a long, desperate breath after a plunge into the sea. He winced and whined, his entire body sore, but the voice-

He turned his head and found himself face to face with a pretty girl in a flower-stamped yukata. It complimented her scent, a prairie of wild flowers, calm and kind like a slow river flowing to the sea.

“Eh?” He managed to croak out, realizing night had fallen at some point, the moon casting her light upon the grounds.

The girl cocked her head, pretty and dainty and Tanjirou couldn’t help but blush. He also noticed she had a kitsune mask hanging on the side of her head.

Was she related to the crazy teen from earlier? Could these two actually be… kitsunes?

“AH!” He exclaimed, as the memories came back to him. “Did you see him fight? It was amazing! All of his movements were so fluid, and his strikes were so strong!”

The mysterious girl just continued to stare at him.

“Sabito is very strong,” she said after an uncomfortably long pause. “Even without using the Total Concentration Breathing, he’s always been strong.”

“…Do you think I could be like him someday?"

The girl smiled.

“You will… since we are looking over you.”

“Um,” Tanjirou felt a little awkward asking this so late but, “Who are you?”

“My name is Makomo.” She did not offer anything else.

“N-nice to meet you, I’m- I’m Tanjirou!”

“Tanjirou-kun, why didn’t you use the techniques Urokodaki taught you? We’ve been watching you for a year, we know you can use them.”

“You mean the Water Breathing…? That’s too dangerous! I could have hurt him!” The teen exclaimed, deciding to take part in the conversation now, and figure out what was going on later. Maybe. Hopefully.

“But you were losing.”

“I- well, yes but I’m not good enough with it to control my strength. He wasn’t aiming to kill me, so I didn’t…”

“Then why didn’t you use the Water Breathing on the rock?” She continued to ask when he trailed off.

“Eh, well, Urokodaki told me not to…”

This made Makomo nod to herself as if that made perfect sense somehow. Meanwhile Tanjirou was belatedly realizing she spoke casually of his teacher, as if she knew him personally.

“Um,” he began, glancing again at the mask and trying not to feel too silly as he asked. “Are you two… kitsune…?”

Makomo smiled.

Then before his very own eyes she disappeared.

In her place a small, slender fox greeted him. Her fur was dark, almost black with a blue undertone, and covered in tiny white flowers as if she had just rolled over a hill of them.

“We will watch over you, Tanjirou-kun.” She said, showing her maw full of teeth. “Please come back when you’ve rested.”

Tanjirou did not remember getting home, did not remember greeting Urokodaki or eating dinner, but when he found himself falling heavily on his bed, he just closed his eyes and knew no more.

Chapter Text

His mentor, Urokodaki, spared no sympathies to his sore muscles, and exhausted body the following morning. Instead, Tanjirou had to recount with painful accuracy all about his failures of the other day, which he did with a grimace. He got punched again for it, and was forced to fight the swordsman again before heading over to the boulder.

Urokodaki corrected nearly every single move of his, his scent acrid with anxiety.

Tanjirou was too busy trying to fix his fighting style to tell the man about the kitsune children he had met.

Or so he told himself, but there was something private in the way they had approached him after watching them both for so long.

And they knew Urokodaki, so it wasn’t like the man didn’t know about their existence.

…Right?

“Urokodaki doesn’t know we exist.”

“Eh-what?!” Tanjirou turned his head abruptly and ended up losing his balance. He windmilled his arms, breaking his posture entirely as he tried to say upright, and still fell flat on his butt.

Above him Makomo remained standing on one foot, far more graceful than Tanjirou would ever aspire to be as she balanced a wooden sword in one outstretched arm, and two flowers on her other extremities. She flowed from one leg to the other, her katana drawing an uninterrupted arch almost mocking Tanjiro’s own efforts.

She did not reprimand him, but Tanjirou hurried to pick up his own sword and reassumed his balance training.

Until he was struggling to copy her again, she continued. “A very long time ago Urokodaki helped Gin after they were hurt by a demon. It was a very close fight, Urokodaki wasn’t as strong as he is now, but still he risked his life to protect Gin.”

“I-I see,” Tanjirou said even though he had no idea who Gin was or how this all related to anything at all.

Makomo giggled as if she knew what he was thinking. “Urokodaki didn’t demand anything of Gin. He tended to their wounds and then released them. That day he earned a god’s loyalty.

“Gin made this mountain their home, and they have vowed to protect Urokodaki, as he so selflessly did for them. And well… They’ve saved us too.”

Tanjirou felt goosebumps spread on his skin, a certain coldness against his aching muscles. “Saved you… from what?”

But Makomo smiled in that way that was only sad and hurt and did not reply.

They finished their training in silence, and Makomo disappeared as the wind blew, like a soul not attached to the mortal world.

The undertones of copper and blood strengthened again and Tanjirou thought he understood.

He wrote that, but he hadn’t really fought with Sabito after that first catastrophic beat down. They still sparred every few days, but now it was more focused on teaching Tanijrou how to parry, or how to copy Sabito’s moves rather than testing his strength.

“Don’t get too comfortable, though,” Sabito had said with another loud laugh. “Because once you’re ready we’ll have our final showdown!”

Even though he was nervous, sweaty and tired, Tanjirou shouted in reply, “YES!”

Urokodaki watched his morning stretches, a mix of what he had taught him, and what Makomo had drilled into him, and even though his scent tinged with nostalgia and maybe even sadness, he never asked Tanjirou who was teaching him all this.

He just called him over for breakfast, and continued trying to punch it out of him when Tanjirou inevitably made a mistake while training.

Makomo was helping with his Total Concentration Breathing now as well, as Tanjirou grew more used to the poses and stances she guided him through.

It was a little unnerving, feeling as if he was going to explode, and seeing the veins on his hands bulging and pulsing, but he relished in the smell of pride he could pick up from all his mentors.

But now, every evening when he went to try and cut the boulder and train with the kitsune, Urokodaki would remind him,

“Do not use any Water Techniques! If you can’t cut the boulder with your body alone, then don’t even come crying to me!”

Tanjirou still thought that was mighty unfair of him, perhaps even impossible, but he swallowed it up and climbed up the mountain.

As always, a bit of the unease loosened from his body when he saw Sabito and Makomo waiting for him again.

It was yet another full moon, shining light into the clearing when he finally met Gin.

He had just finished sparring against Sabito, not ending flat on his back for perhaps the first time ever; Makomo, who had been dreamily cheering for them both on the sidelines suddenly got up, her face brightening as a new scent invaded the clearing.

Powerful and otherworldly, it made goosebumps spread over Tanjirou’s arms and legs and he hurried to his feet, sword at the ready even though whatever it was did not seem hostile.

As a matter of fact, it was the opposite, as Makomo ran up to what looked to be a fox, and launched herself at them, burying her face in their neck.

But Tanjirou was too busy trying to understand what he was seeing. Because, despite looking like a fox with a silver coat, they were probably the size of a stag, if not even bigger, given by the way Makomo looked so small by their side.

And of course, what truly set them apart from a regular fox was the eight- no, nine tails curling and wagging behind them, like a contained storm.

“Greetings, child.” The silver creature said, because of course they did. “I have been watching you from afar.”

“Ah, eh, hello! My name is Kamado Tanjirou!” Unsure of what else to do, he defaulted to his good manners, bowing down several times. The scent of the giant fox—kitsune— surrounded him, enveloped him in autumn leaves, and silver coins; in gentle moonlight and grateful warmth. It was nearly tangible, and Tanjirou found he didn’t mind it at all.  “It is nice to meet you!”

The massive fox nodded their head, “The sentiment is mutual. You have done a good job here, kit. After Sakonji lost all hope, my mountain grew bleak. I thought he would never recover. For this, I thank you.”

“Oh, please don’t!” Tanjirou immediately tried to say, feeling flustered and embarrassed. “I mean; you don’t have to! He’s been doing me a great favor by training me, and I’m really thankful for all the help I’ve received!”

His cheeks flushed, as a foreign warmth crawled up his chest, almost like a hug.

“I am glad.” They said, a large eye crinkling in a smile. “Seeing you up close, it is not surprising Sakonji has finally succumbed to another’s kindness.

“You are strong enough to carry their lost hope.” They continued, something heavy in the curl of their tails. “There is a terrible weight on your shoulders, but I fear I must burden you with yet another request.”

Tanjirou just straightened his back, listening intently.

“I found these two souls wandering at the foot of the mountain.” Their big, giant head pointed towards Makomo and Sabito, fondness in the depths of their eyes. “Lost and grieving. I turned them into my children in the hopes that they would find their way home, and a sense of peace. But Sakonji lost thirteen children. There are still eleven lost to the demon he enslaved. Sakonji can no longer defeat it, nor is he allowed to. I owe my life to Sakonji and I wish to bring his children home, but I cannot risk revealing myself to the demon slayers.”

Tanjirou understood with the unwavering certainty of his blade slicing the air. “You want me to kill the demon that’s hunting Urokodaki-san’s students?”

“That is so.”

Tanjirou did not falter, did not hesitate. Standing tall and firm, the teenager nodded, “Yes. Yes, I will. I will defeat him. I will bring them home. It’s the least I could do.”

The silver kitsune sighed, and the eye that stared at him was ageless and impotent.

“The least you could do is survive, kit. But I thank you. Come back home with them.”

The wind blew, and when Tanjirou lowered the protective arm around his face, he was alone under the moonlight.

Chapter Text

Tanjirou continued training, growing stronger and faster and then…

And then he was having his last fight with Sabito.

He met his blade with his own, matching strike for strike. Sabito tried to overpower him as usual, but this time Tanjirou grit his teeth and pushed back. He pushed, and struck and felt his blood pumping loudly in his ears as he pushed again and again, until Sabito was growling, feet skidding through dirt and stone.

Sabito was still strong, fast enough to slide his blade between his, and Tanjirou was forced to jump back to avoid getting impaled through the face.

They stood at a standstill, the tension high in the air.

This was it.

Whoever was faster…

Whoever struck first would win…

Tanjirou tightened his grip on the hilt of his blade.

A twitch of the ankle, the ground crumbling under the strength of their intention.

The blades rung in the air.

They struck.

Tanjirou was panting, tired and in disbelief.

He had done it.

He had struck first.

He…

He had sliced Sabito’s mask.

The mask fell in two pieces, like broken glass.

(Like shattered hope.)

Sabito…

Was so young.

His silver eyes were wide, his mouth parted in surprise. The same ugly scar of his mask and fox form stretching taut over his hardened cheek.

Then Sabito smiled, proud and relieved.

He smiled, heartbroken and resigned.

He closed his eyes.

“You did it,” He said. “I believe you will be able to rescue them. I believe you will be able to do what I couldn’t.”

“I’ll bring them home,” Tanjirou promised with all the certainty of the rising sun. “We’ll do it together. I carry your will and your strength with me now, Sabito. Makomo. You’ll always be in the swings of my swords. Every demon that I kill, we kill together.”

Makomo smiled, soft like a sea breeze— in direct contrast to the crashing waves of Sabito’s bewilderment, mouth slung open.

Then he laughed, loud and wild and vibrant.

Tanjirou didn’t get the chance to ask if he had offended him, them, when they fade, like a warm breath in the winter air.

In their wake, the gargantuan boulder greeted his sight and Tanjirou forgot about anything else.

The boulder was cut.

Split in two, as if struck by a tremendous force, it lay in front of him, an impossibility in its own right.

He had cut it.

Without Total Concentration Breathing, without even realizing.

Tanjirou’s knees buckled under him.

He had done it.

He had proved his strength.

He was going to the Final Selection.

(He was going to save his sister.)

Urokodaki was sour with worry and warm with pride, reminding Tanjirou of pickled plums eaten in front of a warm fire.

He promised him he would take care of Nezuko while he was gone, and Tanjirou breathed a little easier. He trusted him with his life. He trusted he would keep her safe.

Busy as they were with the preparations for his departure, Tanjirou spent most of his time inside the house, or on the outskirts, keeping up with his stretches and his strength training.

He did not wander back into the mountain, nor did he spend any more time with the kitsune teens.

At one point, Tanjirou began to doubt he had met them at all. Thinking he had just conjured them up to calm the grieving emptiness where there had been a family.

But as he was departing towards the exam, a bag with provisions on his back, a sword at his hip and a kitsune mask on the side of his head, he felt their gazes on him.

He waved at Urokodaki before seeking them out, and sure enough, Gin, Sabito and Makomo were staring at him, hidden in the forest.

Tanjirou grinned and waved at them too, before turning around and moving forward.

Tanjirou breathed in, out, feeling the power coursing through his veins. He could maintain his Total Concentration Breathing for longer, he reminded himself, hands nervously gripping the hilt of his drawn blade, he would have to make sure to take plenty rests, not risk himself unnecessarily.

He got it.

He could do it.

Tanjirou inhaled deeply again, as he stepped away from the protection of the Wisteria trees, eyeing the darkness as the Final Selection Exam began.

He was scared but it was okay, that was normal. But he had trained for this, he thought as he heard the shadows move around him. He heard steps— his fellow test takers— but he still hadn’t-

Demon!

He started running before even the other teens began to scream, scrambling back and begging for their lives.

Tanjirou willed his legs to move faster, faster, he needed to save them-!

He raised his blade just in time to intercept a gigantic claw. Tanjirou didn’t really get to see the teen he was protecting as he distracted the slender demon with oversized hands.

He parried once, twice, his footing sure and then he struck. He cleaved the demon neatly in half and for a second there was silence.

Tanjirou panted, adrenaline setting his nerves on edge.

He had done it.

He had killed a demon.

That had been…

Easy.

He turned around, offered a hand to the scared teen.

“Are you okay?” He said, trying to sound as comforting as possible in a dark forest of demons. “Can you stand? Did you get injured? Can you walk?”

But the teen wasn’t hearing him, his eyes were still wide, his pupils mere pinpricks as he stared at something behind Tanjirou. Dread pooled in his stomach and Tanjirou was almost too late in turning- “B-BEHIND YOU!”

He parried again, but the weight behind the slash had him skidding backwards and nearly tripping over a rock. He sidestepped, trying to redirect some of the strength behind the blow.

He raised his blade again and couldn’t help but hesitate as he took in the sheer size of this monster.

A grotesque tower of hands and mishap body parts stood in front of him, all eyes zeroed on him with unerring delight.

“You…” It muttered, its voice dripping with malice. “I know that mask… I know that smell. You’re one of Urokodaki’s students!”

For a second, the world was silent.

Everything became white noise, the world paled, the smells quietened.

For a second, Tanjirou looked at the amalgam of grief and torture and everything was clear.

For a heartbeat, two, he could almost see the tortured souls of the people he had slaughtered.

Rage ignited his heart. Strength coursed through his veins, pumping his anger throughout his body.

“You,” He said, echoing the monster’s words. “It’s you I’ve come to slay.”

Then he charged, a dozen hands stretching out for him, almost too fast for the eye to see. He ducked under one, two, rolled to avoid a dozen more and he called forth the water.

Water Breathing Fourth Form: Striking Tide!

He screamed as he struck. Once, Twice, he continued slicing away, weakening the beast. He shouted to give himself encouragement, to keep the strength in his veins, in his muscles. He screamed, because otherwise he would cry.

So many children.

So much lost hope.

Trapped in a body rank with malice.

He cut and cut, and thought about Makomo silently accepting defeat, her blade broken, her shattered mask stained with blood, being dragged into a maw full of teeth. He thought about Sabito fighting to his dying breath, fighting despite the pain, despite the blood, despite knowing he would die here.

“WATER BREATHING FIRST FORM!” He howled, as he smelled the demon’s weak point, as it was open for him to cut, he just needed to swing his blade. “WATER SURFACE SLASH!”

Tanjirou sliced through the neck of the creature and the world began to change.

The body fell heavily, loud against the white noise in his ears. It began to fade, turn to dust, and the tortured body breathed a sigh of relief.

As it grew smaller, Tanjirou heard cries of relief, saw ghost-like bodies zipping away, freed at last.

Tanjirou stumbled back, his grip slack.

He did it.

He had done it.

He had… He had saved them.

He had brought peace to the wretched creature, to the children trapped within.

He had…

He had survived.

He would see Nezuko again.

He would survive what was left of the exam, and he would see her again.

This was a promise.

The following hours were nothing but a blur.

He fought more and more demons, none as strong as that first one. He saved people, heard them die, or quit. He fought until blood crusted his clothes, and his muscles strained with exhaustion.

And then dawn came.

The sun appeared from the horizon, like a glimmer of hope.

Before he knew it, the exam was finally over.

He had survived it.

It hurt, to see how few people made it out of the culling. Just him, and four others.

He had saved Urokodaki’s students, but what about the others?

Was this all he would be able to do? Save some, but not all?

He passed the exam, but his thoughts were heavy.

Tanjirou was offered first aid, and a walking stick once the ore selection was over.

Then he was left on his own.

All the adrenaline in his body ran out, and the exhaustion of nearly a year came down on him. It was so strong that his knees buckled and he nearly fell. But he held the stick firmly and began stumbling away.

He had to get back to Nezuko after all.

He was just leaving the protection of the wisteria forest when he saw a congregation of foxes seemingly waiting for him.

The nine-tailed kitsune was sitting in the middle, a soft, proud smile on their fanged face.

Tanjirou soon realized that there were thirteen foxes around them, Sabito and Makomo included.

“I thought you had left already?” Tanjirou remembered to ask, each syllable dragging harder than the last.

“We were waiting for you, kit.”

“Eh? But-“

The kitsune walked towards him, sniffing in disdain. “You can barely talk, why are you complaining?”

“Oh, I’m sorr-“

“It’s okay,” the kitsune said as they softly pressed their snout to his chest. Tanjirou hadn’t realized how big they really were. Or maybe he just forgot. “I don’t know what those ridiculous humans are thinking, sending you back in this state, but I will not let you walk home.”

“I… have to see Nezuko.”

“And we’ll take you to her. I’ll carry you, so sleep, kit. You saved all these children, you deserve some rest.”

Tanjiro’s eyes began to close without his permission, as the warmth trapped between his stiff arms soon enveloped his entire body. His scent wrapped around him, soft and mellow. Pride and relief like a breeze down autumn-colored trees.

He blinked into awareness one last time, realizing he was now lying down on the kitsune’s warm back and that was the last thing he knew.

He woke up just as they were arriving. Tanjirou scrambled down Gin’s back, flustered and embarrassed over just passing out for who knows long, but all the kitsune did was laugh and stabilize him with one sturdy tail.

Tanjiro’s legs were trembling, his muscles still running on fumes. He no longer felt like death had warmed over, so he surmised he would survive.

But then all thought left his mind as he looked up and saw Nezuko.

She had just exited Urokodaki’s home, and her sakura-pink eyes had zeroed on him. They were wild and demon-like, but the way they watered as she rushed to his side, was the most humane he had seen in a long while.

“Nezu-!” Tanjirou managed to rasp out before they collided. His legs gave up and they tumbled to the ground. Tanjirou braced himself for the impact, but despite protecting Nezuko with his body, he found himself above her as she took the brunt of the fall.

“Nezuko! Are you okay?! Oh, I’m- I’m-!” Sorry for letting you fall, he wanted to say, but she was there with him, in his arms and she was awake and they were together and-

Tears ran down his eyes, his breath hitching hiccups.

He wailed his sister’s name over and over again, shaky with the relief that she was back, she was okay, she was alive.

After a moment, they were sitting back up, and Tanjiro’s admiring her clean hair, her porcelain features and finding nothing amiss. She was still wearing a mouth guard, and she chirped and hummed happily, as if words were no longer possible.

He worried about that briefly, wondered if turning into a demon had robbed her of speech, but she didn’t seem to be suffering so that could come later.

Then he heard a door opening again, something heavy falling down, a gasp and a sob.

He heard hurried steps and Tanjirou looked up in time to see Urokodaki rushing to their side. He fell heavily to his knees and embraced the both of them — demon and human alike— tired and relieved and in disbelief.

Tanjirou sobbed harder, feeling peace at long last. Buried in the warmth of a sturdy chest, strong, trustworthy arms around them, having Nezuko with him, awake and alive and here.

“I’m back,” Tanjirou wailed, unable to stop his tears.

Nezuko hummed her reply and Urokodaki sobbed a laugh into his hair.

“Welcome home.”

As soon as they all regained their bearings to some extent, Tanjirou felt a disturbance behind him and realized that Gin was still there.

“Greetings, Sakonji.” The kitsune said, nodding at all three of them. His tails were wrapped around his figure, and Tanjirou had to wonder where did everyone go.

“You… You’re back…” Urokodaki mumbled, he sounded shocked, but still he laughed. “I thought… I knew someone had been helping Tanjirou but still…”

“I never left. I couldn’t bear to leave you alone. Our reencounter can wait, however.  First you should greet your children.”

“My…?” Urokodaki asked, looking down at Tanjirou and Nezuko still in his arms and wondering what did that mean.

Tanjirou beamed up at him. “I got them back, Urokodaki-san! I got all of them back!”

And then he looked up again to see a dozen little foxes running towards him, giggling like little children. His vision got blurry, or perhaps their shape did, and suddenly he was seeing a dozen kids– teenagers, mostly– running at him full speed.

He was shocked.

He knew them.

He had trained them.

Each and every one of them bearing the kitsune protection mask he had made for them; the yukata he had bought for them.

They shouted and laughed and smiled widely as if they did not resent him for sending them to their death.

“What-?” Was as far as he got as the first teen reached him, throwing himself at them, slender arms wrapped tight around his neck.

Then the next teen did the same. And the next and the next.

Urokodaki could only blankly realize there had been eleven teens, and where was…?

Flat on his back, the weight of all of his children on him, Urokodaki stared at silver-stained eyes he thought he would never see again.

“Sabito,” Urokodaki breathed, his name no longer tinged with grief. He looked at the girl at his side and heaved a sob. “Makomo.”

“It’s not very manly of me to have kept you waiting.”

“We’ve been watching you,” Makomo said next. “Thank you for not giving up on us.”

Then they also join the hug, and between teary laughs and playful shoves, they all shout in a cacophony of noise,

“We’re back!”

Urokodaki laughed, even as tears dripped down behind his tengu mask. He sounded happy, really, truly.

“Welcome home, my children. Thank you… Thank you for coming back.”

Chapter Text

For a while, the mountain was rife with supernatural activity.

A dozen fox spirits running down the mountain, on paws and legs alike, laughing and giggling as they dodged every single trap. Despite the spikes, and the danger, they danced and laughed as if it were nothing but a game.

There were teenagers sparring just outside Urokodaki’s home, with glinting katana that went through everything but each other’s blades. Or sometimes they would be rummaging through the house, curious little foxes remembering a place they had once called home.

When dinner was ready, Urokodaki called them all back, listing their names with the same loving care as when they had been alive.

Even though none of them could eat, for they didn’t have a tangible body, they all crowded around the fire, sharing a laugh, two, joking and talking and enjoying each other’s company around the warm food.

Tanjirou accepted his own hot plate and he scarfed it down, once, twice, Urokodaki refilled his plate over and over again until he couldn’t eat anymore. The kitsune teens cheered him on, gleeful and content in seeing him eat.

By his side Nezuko hummed as well, happy and giggly, and patting his head when he was clearly too full.

It made Tanjirou want to cry, seeing her sitting side by side with the ghosts of the teenagers, at ease with each other despite the initial mistrust.

It had all been thanks to Urokodaki in all honesty. The man had been there when Nezuko woke up, had been there to watch the newly turned demon hum and giggle at the butterflies flying by instead of thirsting for blood. Even if he had used what little knowledge he had of illusions and kitsune trickery to convince her that all humans were family, and thus, were to not be harmed, it had been a hopeful experiment.

But he had stayed by her side, he had offered her his kindness and it had been returned.

Even tainted by demon stench, Gin couldn’t deny the sweetness of her soul.

The day Tanjirou had returned, victorious and exhausted, after hugs were had and tears were shed; after Nezuko had finally woken up from a two year slumber, introductions were finally had.

Urokodaki brought out a blanket and hot soup for Tanjirou, as the kitsune formed a circle around them.

Under the dwindling moon, Gin finally met the demon Nezuko. And they found out that kindness did not end with one’s humanity.

“She’s fighting,” They mumbled in something like awe, as Nezuko cocked her head, cherry blossom eyes wide and innocent as she looked back at them. “Even as the demon we see interacts with the world, her spirit is fighting to remain alive. She is not lost, not forever at least.”

Tanjirou, sitting by Nezuko’s side, letting her nuzzle into his side when Gin was no longer as interesting to her, felt the embers of his hope light in a cautious fire.

“D-does that mean she- she can be turned back into a human?”

“That I do not know for certain,” Gin said carefully. “But from what I can see, it is not impossible. Your sister… Your sister is as strong as you are, if not even more. No wonder you are so kind, if your brethren is willing to fight every waking hour to remain by your side.”

She’s fighting?” Tanjirou whispered, turning to look at her. Nezuko giggled again, eyes never straying from his. “She’s fighting for me?”

“Never doubt that she loves you, kit. Your family may be broken, but you still have each other.”

Tanjirou did not know how to reply, as the ghostly members of the Breath of the Water crowded even closer, bold and shy in equal measure.

“I promise you I’ll find a way to turn her back,” He mumbled instead, his tongue dragging with exhaustion, turning to cradle her face. She hummed and leaned into the touch, closing her eyes. “I won’t let you fight alone, Nezuko. Your nii-chan will bring you back, I swear.”

After that, the fox spirits approached them, endlessly curious, with Gin watching over them all. They appeared in groups of three and four, some foxes others human as they properly met Tanjirou’s famous sister.

Nezuko was just as curious, somehow understanding their wariness and letting them come to her, keeping very still.

Tanjirou praised her for her thoughtfulness, then praised the other teens for their bravery, and introductions were had.

Nobody was too sure how much Nezuko understood of what was said, but the way she hummed happily at each and every one of them was more than enough for them.

It was rather amusing too, especially when Sabito finally met her, his peach-stained fur bristling like a dandelion in the wind when she leaned too close.

Tanjirou stifled his laughter behind a hand, but was soon distracted by how Nezuko looked from Sabito, then Makomo and back to him.

“Yeah, they helped me train. Do you recognize them?” He said gently, brushing a stray strand of hair away from her face.

Nezuko stared at him, silent and perhaps almost thoughtful, perhaps even hopeful with her slit eyes.

She remained silent, but Tanjirou did not let that discourage him.

(But if he held her hand tighter, there was no one to blame him.)

“She’s really pretty,” Makomo said, ever serene voice washing over him, like a soft hand on his head. She pawed her way past Sabito, her fox form curiously sniffing her bent knee. “Smells really kind for a demon.”

“That’s Nezuko for you,” Tanjirou replied, his heart hurting as he remembered how they had all lost their lives to a demon. He wondered what did they think of him, if they hated him deep down inside. “Nezuko was already the beauty of the village by the time she turned fifteen. She was… she was about to start accepting courtships.”

“I can imagine all the boys tripping over themselves to gain her favor. Girls too, probably.” Makomo continued to say, offering her, them, her acceptance. She stayed close, her scent never shying away from the tranquil river that governed her essence, that gave life to her eyes even if not to her body.

I forgive you, She said in the steady rhythm of her breathing. Because this is not your fault.

“She- I would have protected her of course,” Tanjirou’s smile was wobbly, his voice thick. He wished to hug her. “I wouldn’t have let just anybody get close to her, but she would have been…”

Happy, he wanted to say.

But their family was dead, and even if she became human again, did they really have a home to return to?

“Sucks for them,” Sabito said next, lips pulled back for a very dangerous smile. “Now they’ll have to go through you, and Urokodaki to get to her. She’s gonna break so many hearts and she won’t even know about it.”

Tanjirou laughed, surprised and relieved.

“Do you really think so?” Despite himself he chanced a look at the older man, who was staring at them, silent and warm, a small black fox asleep in his arms, two other children lying their heads on his lap. Despite his tengu mask, Tanjirou could almost see his soft smile, tender with the affection he could smell.

“You’re family now,” Sabito declared with his snout held high. “You better get used to it.”

Nezuko hummed, bell-like and soft, something like concern shining on her demon eyes as her brother shook with silent sobs.

The cursed girl cradled her older brother in her arms, not easing up with he laughed in surprise, or when he said he was fine. She just held his head to her chest in an awkward hug until he managed to twist around and hug her back.

Makomo pressed her slender fox body against them, Sabito followed. Soon enough a dozen foxes were piled on top of them in yet another fuzzy pile of warm bodies.

(He felt at peace.)

While he waited for his sword to arrive, Tanjirou did not really have much to do. He would wake up at the crack of dawn, carefully shake off half a dozen sleeping foxes off him and begin training under the watchful eyes of his mentor. Sabito and Makomo would train with him some days, other times they would join Nezuko and Urokodaki on the sidelines, juggling giggly foxes in their arms.

Tanjirou would warm up, the crisp mountain air enough to wake him up. He would swing the practice katana over and over before he fell into the Water Breathing stances.

He still couldn’t perform all of them in one uninterrupted motion, but he barely needed to rest between them anymore.

Makomo still tutted when he overbalanced once he grew tired, or when he did not put his whole weight into every single swing, but she smiled at him at the end anyway.

Sometimes he would also spar with Urokodaki, which inevitably ended with him doubled over on the floor, breathless and suffocating at the same time. It was both infuriating and terrifying that despite how much stronger he was getting, his mentor was still overwhelmingly superior.

Perhaps some of his frustration had bled through his conversations with his sparring companions. But Sabito had just ruffled his hair and informed the surprised teen that Urokodaki was in fact a former Pillar, the highest rank of the demon slayers, so it was no wonder he kept winning.

Tanjirou did feel a little better over losing so miserably day after day.

Urokodaki had been a little embarrassed when Tanjirou had finally asked him about it, but under the curious eyes of all his disciples, he had started to tell them stories about his time as a slayer as they all huddled together under the blankets, right before bed.

Nezuko listened to him as well, cherry blossom eyes tracking the movement of his hands like she would the butterflies of the flowering hills. Tanjirou was still not sure how much she understood, and with Urokodaki’s permission, he began to write down his tales, asking the older man for confirmation or details when he couldn’t remember so Nezuko could read about them once she became human again.

Little by little, the pile of letters for her began to grow.

(Tanjirou really hoped she’ll come back before he ran out of paper.)