Chapter Text
I can't win... Inosuke's thoughts spiraled as he stood frozen. The demon was too big, too strong—far beyond anything he'd faced before.
I'm gonna die. I'm gonna be killed...
The thought sent a chill through his spine. But as despair began to sink in, a distant voice echoed in his mind, breaking through the terror.
...
"Don't die! Don't die until I get back!" Tanjiro's fierce words reverberated, igniting a flicker of life in his chest.
For a moment, Inosuke stood still, eyes wide. Then, another memory surged forward, the voice of the Wisteria House owner.
"Always live your lives with great pride. I wish you good luck in battle!"
...
The words clawed at his mind, driving away the fear. His grip tightened on his swords.
"I'm...not gonna lose." His voice wavered at first, then grew firmer, more resolute. "No way am I gonna lose!"
He lifted both his chipped blades, pointing them toward the hulking beast before him, fury and determination blazing in his eyes. "I'm Inosuke Hashibira of the Demon Slayer Corps! Just bring it on, you dirtbag!"
But before he could even blink, the spider demon lashed out with a single, thunderous kick, sending Inosuke hurtling through the air. He barely registered the speed. His body collided with a tree, the impact stealing his breath. Through the blur of pain, he saw the demon charging at him again, a towering juggernaut.
It's so fast! I can't see it!
In a desperate move, he leaped into the air, flipping just in time to avoid a punch that would have shattered every bone in his body. "Beast Breathing, Third Fang: Devour!" he roared, slashing horizontally with both swords, aiming for the demon's neck. But to his horror, the blades barely made a dent in the demon's thick skin.
The sharp crack of metal breaking rang in his ears. "It snapped!" One of his swords was shattered in half.
Another devastating blow knocked him back, sending him crashing into another tree with bone-rattling force.
Damn it! I failed to defend after my breath attack!
Suddenly, a massive hand gripped his head, squeezing with bone-crushing strength.
"Don't come near my family! Stay away!" The spider demon's voice boomed, shaking the forest.
Inosuke's vision blurred as pain seared through his skull. Blood trickled from his lips as the pressure increased.
I'm not gonna die! I'm not gonna die!
"First Fang: Pierce!” With every ounce of strength he had left, he thrust both his swords into the demon's neck. They're in!
They're in, but...what the hell? This thing isn't even flinching!
His hands quivered, losing their grip on his blades. The demon's hand tightened around his skull, the pressure unbearable.
I'm...I'm gonna die... His life began to flash before his eyes.
...
..
.
"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry, Inosuke!" A woman's voice, distant yet familiar, echoed in his mind. "I want at least you to survive... Inosuke!"
.
..
...
Who...who are you? His thoughts were slipping away as darkness crept in. Blood filled his mouth as he coughed violently.
Then, in an instant, the pressure vanished.
"…Water Wheel.” Inosuke fell to the ground, gasping for breath, his head pounding. He looked up, eyes wide in disbelief. The spider demon's arm had been severed cleanly, falling to the ground with a sickening thud.
W-what was that?
Struggling to his feet, he saw a man standing between him and the demon. A man he'd never seen before, clad in a mismatched haori, calm and poised, his presence like a blade in the night.
Who is that guy?
His beast instincts screamed at him. The man before him wasn't human—not entirely. His movements, his aura—there was something far more terrifying and powerful about him than the demon they were facing.
The spider demon roared in fury, arm regenerating in the blink of an eye before charging again. But the man moved with a grace Inosuke had never witnessed, as if the world around him slowed down.
"...Striking Tide.” In the blink of an eye, the demon's head and limbs were severed, the man landing effortlessly a few feet ahead. His swordsmanship was on a level Inosuke couldn't even comprehend.
H-holy crap...! Inosuke's breath caught in his throat. This guy—he cut through the demon like it was nothing. Nothing! His flesh, his bones—it was like paper to him!
Amazing! Amazing! Amazing!
Inosuke's heart pounded as he stared in awe. This was no ordinary swordsman. His beast instincts flared, goosebumps crawling across his skin. This guy... he's the one Gonpachiro talked about!
The Demon-Demon Slayer!
As Giyuu turned slightly to glance back at him, Inosuke could barely contain his excitement. He was practically vibrating with energy, his eyes sparkling beneath his boar mask.
Even though the fox mask covering Giyuu's face was inanimate, it still somehow managed to morph into the same unamused expression he wore underneath it. He turned to walk away without a word.
"Hold up a second!" Inosuke bellowed, pointing his sword at the mysterious swordsman. Giyuu paused, his back still turned. "Fight me, Half-and-Half Haori! You took down that Demon Moon like it was nothing! So I'll beat you! I've already drawn it up! If I beat you..."
Inosuke struck a wild pose, full of conviction, his eyes gleaming with ambition.
"Then I'll be the most powerful one of them all!"
Giyuu remained silent, unmoving. A demon moon? But the demon I killed... it wasn't one. Does that mean there's one nearby? He started walking again.
"W-what the—!" Inosuke sputtered, watching him go. "Hey! Didn't you hear me?! Fight me, Half-and-Half!"
Inosuke sprinted after him, furious and determined. "Hey! Slow down, dammit! You walk too fast!"
...
..
.
..
...
So this is the power of a Demon Moon? The power of a demon closely tied to Kibutsuji? Tanjiro's breath came in ragged gasps as he faced Lower Moon Five, the pressure of the demon's aura bearing down on him like a heavy weight.
Nezuko growled, muffled by her bamboo muzzle, as she thrashed against the thick spider webs that held her captive. Her eyes were wide, glowing with desperation as she struggled to reach her brother.
"You're making too much noise. Quiet down," the demon said with chilling indifference, flicking his wrist. The webs around Nezuko tightened instantly, digging deep into her flesh. She let out a muffled scream, the sharp scent of blood filling the air.
"Stop it!" Tanjiro's voice cracked as he watched helplessly.
"I'm your older brother now," the demon said. "So stop that infernal wailing." His words were cold, devoid of any empathy. Tanjiro trembled with rage, gripping his broken sword so tightly that his knuckles turned white. But something held him back.
Calm down! Don't let him manipulate you! If you lose control, he'll win! Tanjiro forced his hands to stop shaking, struggling to control the fiery anger boiling inside him.
Nezuko's movements slowed. Her body went limp, hanging lifelessly in the webs. The demon narrowed his eyes, tilting his head. "Did she pass out? Or... fall asleep?" He lowered his hand, curiosity flickering across his face. "This one is different. There's something unique about her, something... unlike the others of our kind."
Calm down. Control your breathing. You have to unleash your most precise attack now! Tanjiro's eyes sharpened as he steadied his breath. His chest expanded with the familiar rhythm of Total Concentration Breathing.
"Total Concentration!” With a surge of power, Tanjiro dashed forward. The demon, unimpressed, barely glanced over his shoulder.
"You still don't understand, do you?" he said lazily, snapping his fingers. A wave of razor-sharp threads shot toward Tanjiro. But this time, as they collided with his sword, they were cleanly sliced apart.
The demon's eyes widened slightly.
"Water Breathing, Tenth Form: Constant Flux!” Tanjiro shouted, his movements fluid and swift. His body twisted and spun with increasing momentum, his sword carving through the air like violent waves. The image of a majestic water dragon coiled around him, surging with each powerful strike.
I'm cutting them! I can slash through the threads! I can do this! Tanjiro's heart raced with newfound hope. If I can keep pushing forward, I can take him down!
The demon's face twisted into a sneer. "You think this is my full strength?" His voice dripped with malice as he raised both hands. "Blood Demon Art: Cutting Thread Cage.”
A towering wall of threads materialized, thick and unbreakable, encircling Tanjiro. The razor-sharp wires closed in, sealing his fate.
"I have no use for you anymore. Goodbye."
Tanjiro's heart sank as the threads tightened around him. Not good! I can't cut through these! The spin isn't strong enough! And... these threads... they reek of something different, something far deadlier!
His limbs screamed with pain as he fought to resist. But I can't lose! Not here! Not now!
...
"Tanjiro. Breathe. Get your breathing under control... and become the Hinokami."
...
A memory surfaced, sharp and vivid, of a snowy night. He watched as his frail father moved with ethereal grace, performing the Kagura Dance in the icy winds.
"Look, it's your father's dance," his mother's gentle voice echoed. "Our family works with fire. To protect us, we offer this dance to Hinokami as a prayer."
Young Tanjiro, filled with awe, had asked, "But how does Father dance like that in the freezing snow? He's so frail."
Despite the biting cold, his father's movements radiated warmth, each step deliberate, each breath controlled.
"There's a way to breathe," his father had explained afterwards, "a technique that lets you keep moving without exhausting yourself, no matter how much effort you put in. With the right breathing, even the cold won't touch you."
...
Breathe... focus on your breathing!
Tanjiro's eyes snapped open. He filled his lungs deeply, the air around him shifting. His water dragon morphed, the flowing currents transforming into blazing fire, burning hotter with every breath. The threads of water gave way to flames, roaring as they surged around him.
"Hinokami Kagura: Dance!”
The threads shriveled and snapped as his sword cut through them, the inferno trailing his every movement. The demon's eyes widened in shock as he sent another wave of threads in desperation, but Tanjiro tore through them, ignoring the searing pain of each cut that slashed across his body.
Don't stop! Keep moving forward! If I stop now, the backlash from switching from Water Breathing to Hinokami will freeze me in place! That's why I gotta do it now! I have to protect Nezuko!
With a final scream of defiance, Tanjiro's blade ignited, the flames swirling violently. The demon staggered back as Tanjiro closed the distance, his every strike pushing him further into retreat.
Then, amidst the chaos, Tanjiro saw it—a faint glimmer, a flicker of fate: The Opening Thread! This is my chance!
...
"Nezuko... wake up, Nezuko..." Their mother's soft voice rang through Nezuko's unconscious mind. "You have to save your brother. I know you can do it. Now, Nezuko. Do your best..."
Nezuko lay still, her body bound tightly by the demon's threads, until...
"...Please, Nezuko. Or your brother will be killed too!"
Her eyes flew open. Her body trembled as she felt an intense heat building within her. The blood in her veins surged, glowing with raw power. "Blood Demon Art: Exploding Blood!”
With a flash, her blood ignited, exploding into a brilliant wave of fire. The flames engulfed the threads, burning them to ash, forcing the demon to leap back to avoid the deadly heat.
Tanjiro didn't waste a second. Using the opening Nezuko created, he tore through the flames, his blade blazing with determination.
"The bond between Nezuko and me... can't be severed by anyone!" Tanjiro roared, his sword cutting through the demon's neck in one swift, burning strike. A circle of fire blazed around him as the demon's head flew into the air, his body collapsing in a smoldering heap.
At the same moment, the webs binding Nezuko burned away, and she collapsed onto the ground, her body limp.
"Nezuko!" Tanjiro's voice cracked, but the overwhelming exhaustion in his limbs betrayed him. He slumped onto the dirt, his entire body trembling from the strain of the battle. "Nezuko!" His mind screamed in victory, yet his body refused to obey. I won... I won! Father saved me! I don't know how I unleashed the Kagura Dance like that, but... that's what saved us!
He tried to rise, but his vision blurred, a fog of pain and fatigue clouding his eyes. Huh? Where is Nezuko? I... I can't see her...? Did I...?
Before he could finish the thought, a sharp, burning pain ripped through his chest, and his lungs seized up. He crumpled, gasping as his ears filled with an unbearable ringing. Every inch of his body screamed in agony.
I need to heal... fast! I have to help Inosuke! Desperation fueled his will as he crawled forward, his muscles barely responding.
But then, a sudden and nauseating scent flooded his senses—the scent of blood growing thicker, darker, like a cloud of death closing in. Wait... the smell of blood... I never smelled the scent of ash... like I do when a demon dies. Don't tell me...
A shadow loomed over him, and with a cold horror spreading through his chest, Tanjiro turned just enough to see the headless body of Lower Moon Five, walking toward him.
"Even though I cut off his head..." Tanjiro whispered in disbelief, his mind reeling.
The demon's cold voice slithered through the air, dripping with malice. "You thought you defeated me? Poor, deluded boy. Did that moment of joy taste sweet? I cut my own head off with my threads before you could strike it."
Tanjiro's blood ran cold as the demon stood before him, his own threads lifting his severed head and reattaching it to his neck.
"Enough. I'll kill both you and your sister. I haven't felt this enraged in years." His voice was low, dangerous, and filled with seething hatred. Threads flicked into place, tightening around his neck, securing his head. Tanjiro, barely able to move, continued to crawl away, his body screaming for air.
Get up! Get up right now! Control your breathing! Hurry, Tanjiro, get up! His thoughts screamed at him, but his body refused to cooperate. His muscles had reached their limit. His right arm hung limp at his side.
The demon loomed closer. "I wonder why you aren't burned up... Was it only me and my threads that caught fire? Perhaps it's your sister's doing. Either way, I should thank you for pushing me this far. You've made me furious. Now I can carve you up with no regrets."
The demon's voice dropped as he raised his hands. "Blood Demon Art: Murderous Eye Basket!”
In an instant, threads began weaving together, spinning with terrifying speed. A cage of razor-thin wires, sharp enough to tear through flesh, formed around Tanjiro, enclosing him in a suffocating, deadly prison. The cage tightened, inch by inch, the threads closing in with deadly precision.
Tanjiro's ears rang as the threads drew closer, each movement accompanied by the sound of the threads slicing through the air.
Don't panic! Calm your breathing! You can't let it break your focus... Tanjiro fought to steady his breathing, but an icy realization froze his blood. I... I can't raise my right arm... His heart pounded wildly in his chest as the threads closed in, so close now that they began to cut into his skin, drawing thin lines of blood.
I can't move! His breath came in ragged, shallow gasps, the pain blurring his senses.
Suddenly, there was a shift in the air.
"...Whirlpool.” A voice cut through the chaos like a blade. In a flash, the spinning threads were pulled into a violent vortex and torn apart in an instant. The tension in the air evaporated, and the demon staggered back in shock, his threads severed effortlessly.
Somebody's here...
Tanjiro's vision swam, but as he blinked through the haze of pain, a familiar figure emerged before him. "Giyuu... san?" His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. But there was no mistaking it. Giyuu was standing in front of him.
The tension in the air was palpable as Lower Moon Five seethed with rage, his body trembling in anger. "You...!" The demon's voice was filled with venom. "You're just another one... another pathetic fool standing in my way! An endless stream of lowlifes!" His voice rose into a furious scream. "Blood Demon Art: Cutting Thread Rotation!”
In an instant, a massive, rotating vortex of razor-sharp threads formed in front of the demon, spiraling violently. The threads spun with such speed that the air itself seemed to crackle, the force behind them deadly enough to shred anything in their path. The massive wheel of threads rushed toward Giyuu with terrifying speed.
But Giyuu didn't flinch. He didn't retreat or brace for defense. Instead, he lowered his stance, his katana gleaming coldly in the moonlight.
"Constant Flux.”
The image of a colossal water dragon materialized around him, far more powerful and imposing than anything Tanjiro had conjured. The water surged with an unstoppable force, the dragon's massive form dwarfing everything around it. Its jaws opened wide as it roared, charging forward to meet the threads head-on.
In an instant, the water dragon crashed into the spinning threads. But where Rui's attack should have torn through anything in its path, Giyuu's dragon effortlessly ripped the threads apart, shredding them into nothingness as it barreled forward. The force of the attack sent shockwaves through the air, the ground trembling beneath its power.
Rui's eyes widened in disbelief as Giyuu closed the distance, his blade cutting through the remnants of the demon's threads like they were nothing. The dragon surged forward, its jaws snapping hungrily as it drew closer and closer to Rui.
As the terrifying maw of the water dragon approached, a flood of memories washed over Rui.
My life... before this...
His mind drifted back, unbidden, to a time long ago. He saw his parents—loving, gentle, and yet distant in the haze of his fractured recollection. He remembered that fateful night when Muzan Kibutsuji came to him, offering strength, offering a way to transcend his weak, frail body.
I wanted strength... but what did I lose along the way?
He remembered the desperate, futile attempts to recreate a family—his "Mother," "Father," "Sister," and "Brother"—all crafted from fear and control, none of them real. He saw the countless lives he took, the webs of lies he spun to force them into roles they could never fill.
I tried so hard... to create something perfect...
Even as his cruelty grew, the emptiness inside him never faded. The stronger he became, the further he drifted from what it meant to be human. That bond he sought so desperately—the love, the protection—remained ever out of reach, like a dream that slipped through his fingers the harder he tried to grasp it.
No one could protect me... I was always the strongest... But the stronger I became, the more I lost myself...
Giyuu’s water dragon surged forward, its powerful jaws clamping around Rui’s neck, severing his head in a swift, clean motion. Even as his body began to disintegrate, the headless form of Lower Moon Five stumbled forward, reaching out with trembling hands, desperately stretching toward Tanjiro and Nezuko, grasping for the warmth he had always craved.
But just as he reached them, his strength gave out. Rui collapsed to the ground, his body dissolving into ash and memory.
Tanjiro’s face softened, his expression flickering with quiet empathy. He knelt down, his fingers trembling slightly as he placed a gentle hand on what remained of the demon’s back. The faintest warmth radiated through his touch—a final gesture of solace before Rui faded completely.
Giyuu approached, his sharp gaze fixed on Tanjiro, but his curiosity was tempered by a flicker of something deeper. Tanjiro’s fingers lingered on the remnants of the demon’s clothes, his face etched with understanding and sadness.
“That small body,” Tanjiro murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, “it gave off a scent of overwhelming grief… regret… sadness… guilt…”
Giyuu studied him carefully, wondering if this compassion would become a burden or a strength for Tanjiro.
“Knowing this,” Giyuu’s voice was steady, but a twinge of sorrow edged his tone, “will you hesitate?”
Tanjiro met his gaze, his eyes blazing with an unwavering resolve. “To avenge the people who died, and to make sure there are no more victims, I’ll bring my blade down on any demon’s neck without mercy.” His voice held a fierce determination, yet softened as he continued, “But for those who despaired for being demons… for those who regretted their actions…” His hand clenched on Rui’s tattered garments. “I won’t trample over them. Because they were once humans.”
Giyuu fell silent, his expression darkening as Tanjiro’s words stirred memories. Once, he would’ve told him not to waste his empathy on these hideous monsters. He was willing to bet every member of the corps would say something similar, having experienced the cruelty of demons first hand. Now, as a demon himself, Giyuu understood the depths of regret and the endless ache that accompanied his transformation. But Tanjiro already understood it well before they did.
“…I see.” His response was quiet. The Lower Moon was dead, Tanjiro and Nezuko was safe. So why did he still feel so uneasy? Was he forgetting something?
…Oh. A memory from the depths of his mind began to resurface, persistent and unrelenting. He remembered now.
Giyuu’s voice dropped, his tone urgent and grim. "Tanjiro, you have to run."
Tanjiro’s eyes widened, confusion flickering across his face. "Huh?"
"Take your sister and get out of here as quickly as you can." Giyuu’s tone was tight, tinged with fear he struggled to suppress. He couldn’t risk Tanjiro and Nezuko’s lives, especially if they stayed too close.
Tanjiro hesitated, but he didn’t question him. Despite his exhaustion, he staggered to his feet, lifting Nezuko with all the strength he could muster. "Alright, Giyuu-san!" he called, his voice filled with trust. He began to run, but turned his head back once more. "Giyuu-san!" he yelled. "If you have the chance, go to Asakusa! Find Lady Tamayo! She… she’s someone who can make a cure for demons!"
Giyuu froze, the words lodging in his mind like a forgotten memory. A cure? The faint glimmer of hope stirred something within him—a fragile light that he barely allowed himself to believe in. Could such a thing truly exist? Could there really be a way back?
But before he could dwell on the thought, Tanjiro’s figure faded into the dark forest. No, he could ponder it later. For now, he needed to-
"...Tomioka…san?"
That voice. His body stiffened, the sound piercing his calm. The voice was familiar, edged with a strange hesitance and disbelief, but Giyuu’s blood chilled all the same.
If there was a Moon, then a Hashira would have been dispatched on this mission. A Hashira was here.
Fear flooded his veins, raw and unrelenting, a feeling he hadn’t known as a human but one that now gripped him like iron. The old wounds resurfaced with the clarity of fresh pain, and his muscles seized as though they remembered each scar too well. His stomach throbbed, the exact place where Shinazugawa’s blade had once sliced deep, leaving a wound that still seemed to burn. The searing heat of Rengoku’s sword ghosted near his throat, the phantom edge lingering at his skin, a reminder of how close he’d come to the end. His shoulder began to ache, haunted by the memory of Obanai’s serpentine-like blade embedding itself, cold and merciless. And his thigh—Tokito’s cut there had been swift, merciless, a streak of agony that flared anew.
As he slowly turned around, he was met with the figure of the Insect Hashira.
...
..
.
Kanao’s sharp gaze surveyed the battlefield from her perch in the tree, taking in every detail with practiced precision. Amid the carnage, her eyes fixed on an unusual sight—a Demon Slayer running through the night, carrying a demon in his arms. Her hand tightened on her blade.
Odd. But no matter, she thought. My mission is to slay the demon.
Without hesitation, she sprang from the branch, the world rushing by in a blur as she fell, timing her descent perfectly. Her feet struck the Slayer’s back with calculated force, driving him forward and separating him from the demon. Tanjiro stumbled, gasping as his grip on Nezuko loosened, and he tumbled to the ground. Instantly, Kanao rose over the demon, her sword gleaming in the moonlight as she prepared to strike.
Tanjiro’s heart lurched as he reached up, scrambling to stop her. “Wait!” His hand caught her haori, gripping it as if his life depended on it. His gaze lifted, his mouth forming a single, choked word as his eyes took in the familiar pattern.
“...Giyuu...”
Kanao’s blade froze midair. Kanao turned her gaze back to the boy beneath her. His face was streaked with dirt and exhaustion, but his grip on her haori didn’t waver. He was staring up at her, wide-eyed and desperate.
“Why… why are you wearing… Giyuu-san’s haori?”