Chapter Text
Nezuko knew the day her father would die. Staring at the back of the doctor as he made his way down the hill, she could barely hold back a frown.
He has one to two months, I believe, the doctor had said.
No, Nezuko thought back. He’ll be gone by tonight.
There was a cold pit of certainty in the bottom of her stomach. Nezuko couldn’t have explained how or why she knew even if she’d wanted to, but she knew it was true. Just as the sun would always rise in the east, her father would die tonight.
“Nezuko?”
She turned, meeting the worried burgundy eyes of her older brother, Tanjirou. Their father’s health, always poor, had worsened considerably in the past few weeks. As the eldest son, Tanjirou had worked himself to the bone, making and selling charcoal. His cheeks were wan, and Nezuko could see his collarbone showing beneath his yukata. She made a mental note to give her brother an extra big portion at dinner tonight – he was the type to give his food to her or their younger siblings; they both were.
(if she had to sleep tonight with hunger gnawing at her belly, then so be it – Tanjirou needed it more)
“Are you alright?”
Nezuko blinked. Tanjirou’s voice brought her back to reality, anchoring her. She glanced around; they were alone, everyone else having gone back inside. She could hear Hanako’s giggles as she teased Takeo, the gentle tones of her mother’s voice, Rokuta’s quiet fussing.
The door was closed. A sweet spring breeze swept through the mountain, tugging at stray strands of hair that’d gone loose from her bun.
This was her brother. She could tell him anything.
“I think Dad’s going to die tonight,” Nezuko said quietly.
Tanjirou’s eyes went wide. She saw the instinctive denial that rose to his lips, but he pressed them shut firmly, swallowing it.
“Are you sure?”
Not how do you know. Not you’re wrong. Not you must be mistaken.
No, instead, are you sure.
She’d never loved her brother more than in that moment. Tension she hadn’t realized she’d been holding suddenly melted, and she felt as if a great weight had been taken off her shoulders.
Nezuko nodded, and Tanjirou swallowed. His face crumpled for an instant before he blinked and drew himself back together. He put a hand on her head and smiled. The gentleness of it made her want to cry.
“Well,” he said, “at least we can still spend time together.” Then, in a softer tone, he added, “Thank you, Nezuko.”
~
By the time the moon reached its zenith, their father was gone.
~
She’d always had an unerring intuition. She’d known the days her younger siblings would be born, known that something would happen the day Tanjirou saved their younger brother Takeo from a falling brazier, known the day her father would draw his last breath.
It wasn’t like her brother’s incredible sense of smell – Nezuko’s intuition came so sparingly, so rarely, that she often wondered if she’d imagined it. But nothing else explained how she could’ve known her father’s death date. She wasn’t some miracle doctor – when Kazan the candlemaker had been killed by a bear, she’d had no idea. No, her intuition was random and fleeting, and Nezuko saw no point to it. She’d tried to control it, once – she’d gone foraging for herbs and vegetables, and she’d tried to let herself wander, tried to let her intuition guide her, but she’d only gotten lost, and it had been four grueling hours before she’d finally found a path back home to her worried family. It had been a failure and a waste of time, and Nezuko had never done anything like it again.
~
Time passed. Their father’s grave sprouted yellow chrysanthemums. The trees around their family home grew taller as the years went by, as did the living. Grief, while ever-present, began to dull.
One day, two years after their father passed, Nezuko woke with the terrible certainty that something awful was going to happen. Tanjirou noticed her unease and, after confiding in him, they decided to switch places – Nezuko would go into town that day, and Tanjirou would stay behind with their family. He hadn’t wanted to let her go alone, but Nezuko had insisted – they needed the money, after all, and their family would need Tanjirou.
When a falling brazier had nearly fallen on Takeo, it’d been Tanjirou who’d saved him. When Nezuko’s intuition had warned her of their father’s impending death, it’d been Tanjirou she’d gone to. When something went wrong, it was Tanjirou who fixed it. Tanjirou was kind, gentle, and had a downright incredible sense of smell. If something bad was going to happen that day, he would take care of whatever it was.
She hefted the basket of charcoal higher on her shoulders, waving goodbye to her family.
“Take care,” Tanjirou said, setting a gentle hand on top of her head. “Don’t push yourself too hard. If it’s dark when you head back – “
“I’ll be home before dark,” Nezuko reassured him, smiling fondly despite the knot of unease in her stomach. Tanjirou would be with their family – everything would be fine.
“But if you’re not – “
“Then I’ll find someplace safe to stay,” Nezuko said. She put her hand over Tanjirou’s, which was still on top of her head, and giggled. “Don’t worry, onii-chan.”
“Yeah, onii-chan,” Takeo said, tugging insistently at Tanjirou’s hand. “Let’s chop some firewood together.”
Still, Tanjirou hesitated. He raised a hand to touch at his hanafuda earrings, looking uncertain. Emotions warred in his eyes for a moment before he finally took them off.
“Take these,” he said firmly, pressing them into her hand. “For luck.”
Nezuko gasped – the earrings were Tanjirou’s, she couldn’t –
“Please,” Tanjirou said quietly, closing her hand over them. The ivory was strangely warm in her hand.
“They’re yours,” Nezuko protested, frowning. They’d been passed down from father to son for generations – Nezuko had no place in that line.
“Which means they’re mine to lend,” Tanjirou shot back. “We share things, remember?”
His eyes bored insistently into hers. Nezuko remembered a cold winter’s night, a dance taught under the stars, movements like the sun keeping her warm, and crumbled.
“I’ll give them back to you when I get back,” Nezuko said at last, tucking the earrings into a pocket of her yukata reluctantly.
“Okay,” Tanjirou smiled, looking relieved. He finally gave in to Takeo’s tugging, allowing himself to be led away. “Take care!”
“Goodbye!” Nezuko called back, giggling. Her heart lighter, she set off down the mountain.
~
Going down the mountain was difficult. She went down sometimes, as an amateur seamstress, but never with a basket of coal strapped to her back. Coal was heavier than cloth – it weighed her down, and the snow slowed her steps, so by the time she reached the town at the base of the mountain, her entire body ached. It was mid-afternoon by the time she arrived. No way would she be able to make it home before dark.
That was alright; she trusted Tanjirou to keep their family safe. She greeted the townsfolk, who were surprised yet pleased to see her selling charcoal. She kept her interactions quick, trying not to be rude, but it couldn’t be helped. By the time the basket was empty, it had grown dark. Nezuko sighed, weighing the scales – it would be dangerous to go back up the mountain at night, yes, but couldn’t she just retrace her steps? Without a heavy basket of charcoal weighing her down, surely she’d be faster – and she didn’t like being separated from her family for so long. The heavy knot of unease in her stomach had only grown worse as time passed.
Tanjirou’s home, she reminded herself. He’ll protect them.
But the heaviness remained.
She allowed old man Saburo to host her for the night, listening to his stories of demons and demon slayers. She knew she shouldn’t take his words too seriously – demons didn’t exist, after all – but couldn’t help but remember her grandmother telling a similar story.
~
When Nezuko woke the next morning, her entire body ached. The pit of unease in her stomach had only hardened, and she hurriedly left, thanking old man Saburo profusely for his trouble. Walking up the mountain was easier than walking down – Nezuko had always had strong legs, and this time her basket was empty.
Finally, she reached the clearing where their home lay. The first thing she saw was the broken door, and her stomach dropped. Nezuko ran for it, her tiredness forgotten, throwing the basket to one side.
No. Please, no.
She neared her house. Twenty steps away from the front door, Nezuko fell to her knees, unable to believe what she was seeing.
Her family –
Her family was –
No.
She crawled forwards, towards a snow-dusted lump of blood-soaked fabric that lay in the doorway.
Not fabric, Nezuko’s mind corrected numbly. Tan –
She stared at her older brother. He lay spread-eagled on the ground, eyes closed. If it weren’t for the blood, Nezuko could’ve almost believed he was sleeping. There was something off about that though, but Nezuko shook off her unease. What was there to be uneasy about anymore? Her family was dead.
At last, the tears fell. She wailed, reaching out to hold her older brother one last time, uncaring of the blood –
He was still warm.
He was still warm.
Nezuko’s mind cleared, the haze of grief and denial swept away by hope. Her brother was still – yes! She could feel his pulse, beating rapidly against his neck. Hurriedly, Nezuko rose to her feet, checking the rest of her family.
Cold, cold, cold. They were all cold, lifeless eyes staring at her as she moved from one body to the next. Grief rose up in her throat again, but Nezuko pushed it down ruthlessly. Her brother was still alive, and he needed help. She couldn’t stop the tears from falling, but she didn’t let them slow her down.
“Hold on, Tanjirou,” she begged him. “Hold on.”
She dragged him away from the carnage, laying him out on the ground. Running back inside, she grabbed her sewing kit, and raced back to where her older brother lay, still unconscious. Using a rag, she tried to wipe away some of the blood, straining to see her brother’s injuries –
But there were none. She could clearly see where he’d been hurt – his yukata was blood-soaked and torn, as if someone had slashed claws down his chest – but there were no injuries.
Sewing kit forgotten, Nezuko stared at her brother for a moment, dumbfounded. Even his ears – which has been pierced for years – were whole and unblemished.
Impossible, Nezuko thought numbly. But she could not deny what she was seeing.
Tanjirou… What happened to you?
He gave a low groan, and Nezuko gasped. She leaned over him, her hair held back by her bun, and put her hand on his cheek, holding her breath.
He opened his eyes. They were red – bright red, like blood, instead of the warm burgundy they’d been before. His pupils were odd, slitted and narrow like a cat’s. He blinked at her, and something that sounded like a growl rumbled in his throat.
“You’re awake,” Nezuko said, her voice barely hiding a quiver. She should feel relieved, but something wasn’t right. What was wrong with her brother’s eyes? Why did she feel so uneasy –
He lunged for her, lips curling back to reveal fangs. Nezuko screamed and fell back, gripping Tanjirou’s shoulders to hold him away from her. He snapped, aiming for her neck, and Nezuko tried to shove him away to no avail.
“Tanjirou, please let me go,” she whimpered.
Tanjirou growled. His claws – he had claws – dug into her shoulders. Her arms trembled with the effort of keeping him away. Old man Saburo’s voice echoed in her head.
There have always been man-eating demons prowling around at night.
Her brother… was he… a demon?
He growled again, as if in answer, and Nezuko’s heart broke. She knew it hadn’t been him who’d killed their family – he’d been human when she’d left, and his hands were clean. He’d been in the doorway, as if protecting everyone else, but –
But he’d somehow been turned into a demon.
“Onii-chan,” she whispered. Tears spilled down her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. You must’ve been in so much pain. It’s not your fault.” Her arms shook harder, and Nezuko knew she was reaching her limit. Soon –
“Please,” she begged, “you’re scaring me.”
Something wet fell onto her cheek, and the force pressing against her eased. Slowly, Tanjirou pulled back, tears rolling down his cheeks. He stared at her in horror.
“Ne – “
Before he could finish speaking, Nezuko’s intuition screamed. Without thinking, she tightened her hold on her brother’s shoulders and rolled, flipping them over. The sword swing missed them by half a shaku.
Nezuko looked up. A man stood before her, wearing an odd half-and-half haori – half of it was red, the other a garish green, yellow, and white cubic pattern. He was holding a slightly curved sword blue as water, with destroy demons in kanji engraved at the base of the blade.
“Why did you protect it?” he asked.
All of a sudden, Nezuko was filled with rage. She was angry at him, for trying to kill her brother; she was angry at the monster who’d killed her family; she was angry at the world, for letting something like this happen. She sat up, Tanjirou forgotten, and glared.
“He’s my older brother,” she retorted.
The man’s blue eyes narrowed fractionally. “That thing is your brother?”
“He’s not a thing,” Nezuko growled.
Tanjirou, sensing her anger, sat up as well. He looked between her and the man, brow furrowed. “Ne… zuko?”
In an instant, so fast she couldn’t follow, the man gripped Tanjirou by the back of his blood-soaked haori and pulled him away from her. He forced Tanjirou to his knees.
“Tanjirou!” Nezuko cried, scrambling to her feet. “Let go of him – “
“Don’t move!”
Nezuko froze.
“My job is to kill demons. Of course, I’m going to decapitate your brother,” the man said.
Fear shot through her. She couldn’t lose Tanjirou – he was her older brother; all she had left of their family.
“Please wait,” she begged, “Tanjirou hasn’t killed anyone! Look at his hands – they’re clean! I don’t know how he turned into a demon, but - ”
“It’s simple,” the man said. “If you bathe an open wound in demon blood, you become a demon. That is how the man-eating demons multiply.” He gripped his sword, raising it -
“Tanjirou hasn’t eaten anyone!” she cried. “He’s different – “
“Just now, it looked like you were about to be eaten.”
“You’re wrong! Tanjirou would never – “ she was cut off by a voice, soft and hoarse but as familiar as her own.
“Nezuko?”
She stared at Tanjiro, whose eyes were filled with tears. He stared at her – no, he stared at her shoulder, where her haori bore the unmistakable rips of claws, then looked at his own blood-tipped claws.
“I… hurt… you…” he whispered. Devastation and horror filled his gaze. “I… hurt… Nezuko.” He turned his gaze to the man still gripping him and dipped his head in an unmistakable show of submission, baring the back of his neck.
A scream ripped from Nezuko’s throat, wild and animal. “No!” she screamed. “Tanjirou, you’re – don’t do this,” she sobbed. “Please, you’re all I have left – “
The man watched this exchange with eyes round with shock. He stared at Tanjirou as if seeing him for the first time. “You… want me to kill you?”
Tanjirou bowed his head and nodded. “Bet…ter,” he croaked. “Better without… me.” He gave her a sorrowful look. “Sor…ry, Nez…uko.”
“Tanjirou, no,” Nezuko sobbed. “Please – I’ll find a cure – I’ll find a way to turn you back into a human!”
“There is no cure,” the man said coolly, recovering from his shock. “There is no way to turn a demon back into a human. If your brother wants me to put him out of his misery – “
He raised his sword.
“No!” Nezuko screamed. “Please, I’ll – I’ll also find the one who killed my family! I’ll take care of everything! So please – please stop!”
She fell to her knees and bowed so deeply her head touched the ground in supplication. “Please stop…” she sobbed. “Whatever you do, please don’t kill my brother… I beg of you…”
A moment of silence. Then, the air changed, crackling.
“Never leave yourself so defenseless in front of an enemy!” the man snarled. “Stop bowing so pitifully! If that worked, your family would still be alive!”
Nezuko raised her head, tear tracks still glittering on her cheeks.
“How can a weakling like you, who bows down when it’s time to fight, to kill or be killed… How can such a girl cure her older brother? Or even find her enemy? If you want something, you must fight for it! The meek have no power and no options! The strong will crush them in every way! Demons might know how to cure your older brother, but no demon will respect your whining and begging! And for that matter, I don’t respect you either! That’s reality!”
He raised his sword, and Nezuko screamed.
“You’re wrong!”
He paused. “… What?”
“You’re wrong,” Nezuko repeated. She struggled to her feet, glaring furiously at him. “You’re right – I am weak. I need to get stronger. But I knew that if I fought you, you’d just kick me aside. I thought it was better to try and reason with you, but I see now that I was mistaken.” Her pink eyes hardened, turning into chips of stone. “If you let my brother go, I promise you I’ll get stronger. But you’re wrong – some strong might crush the weak, but not all of them. You know how I know that?” She glared harder, narrowing her eyes.
Nezuko had always been good with people. She could read them, perhaps not as well as her brother could, with his strong sense of smell, but she could tell when someone was trying to provoke a fight. She’d broken up countless fights between her siblings, to the point where she knew when one was brewing based on words and body language alone.
Her anger faded. If he wanted her angry, then she’d do the opposite. She’d present him with a calm, cool, gentle façade, which had always worked on her younger siblings. She drew from that pool of calm within her, that stillness that helped her break up fights with a cool head and steady hands, and breathed.
“Because, judging by the speed you took my brother from me, you could’ve killed him a thousand times over. But instead, you waited, and listened to me beg and plead, and instead of killing him while I was distracted, you tried to manipulate me into fighting you. So, what I want to know is… why? Why did you do that?”
The man studied her. His dark blue eyes were fathomless as the depths of the ocean. His face was perfectly blank, giving nothing away.
“I wanted to see if you had what it took to be a demon slayer,” he answered.
Nezuko stared at him, barely daring to breathe. “And? Do I?”
In response, he stabbed Tanjirou in the shoulder, and let him go. Tanjirou gave a choked cry and fell to his hands and knees, hands curling into fists. He trembled, the wound already closing.
Nezuko held back another scream. How had she misjudged this man so badly? How had –
“Starving demons will kill and eat their own parents and siblings,” the man said quietly. He was still holding his sword. “This boy is injured. It costs him strength to heal that wound, not to mention the strength it took to transform into a demon. He must be doubly starved right now, and must want to eat human flesh as soon as possible.”
There was a pause, as the both of them looked at Tanjirou, who was still hunched over on the ground. Nezuko ached to run to him.
Something inside her snapped. Her anger came surging back with a vengeance – why hadn’t he listened to her? Wasn’t that what she’d been saying?
“But he’s not,” she hissed. “He’s not doing anything, because I told you – Tanjirou’s different! He’d never hurt a human!”
Ignoring the man, she ran to her brother, hugging him fiercely and glaring. Tanjirou tried to push her away – to push her away, her idiot brother – with his hands, carefully keeping his claws from piercing her again, but Nezuko didn’t let go.
“You see?” she snapped. “He’s not even letting his claws touch me.”
The man stared at them.
“Yes,” he said at last. “I see.” He tilted his head.
“You still should have fought,” he said quietly. “Even if you knew you’d lose, you should have fought.”
“I did fight,” Nezuko retorted. “I just fought with my words, since I’m not strong enough yet to fight with my fists.”
He blinked. He studied them for a while longer, before seeming to come to a decision.
“Go see an old man named Urokodaki Sakonji who lives at the foot of Mount Sagiri. Tell him that Tomioka Giyuu sent you. Your brother should be fine because the sun isn’t out today, but don’t let him into direct sunlight.”
He turned to leave, glancing back only once.
“Words won’t work against demons.”
Nezuko stared back defiantly. “But they might.” They did on this one. “Though I know what you’re saying. I’ll get stronger, and then I won’t have to depend on words alone.”
Tomioka nodded once, curtly. “Good.”
~
He left them a muzzle, made of bamboo. Nezuko hated that muzzle – it was dehumanizing, degrading – but her brother wasn’t human anymore. He was still her brother – his eyes were still held that same soft, gentle warmth – but he seemed to have regressed. He acted like a child, forming only the simplest of sentences, and it made Nezuko want to cry. He was her big brother – he’d always been the one taking care of her, not the other way around. But right now, he needed her. Her onii-chan needed her, so she’d take care of him.
But that muzzle comes off when it’s just the two of us, she vowed silently. And the moment I turn him back into a human again, I’m burning it.
~
Tanjirou retained enough of himself to cry as they buried their family. The earth was tough and hardened from winter, but Nezuko persevered. When her palms blistered and split open from the work, Tanjirou made a soft sound and tried to get her to rest, but Nezuko just wrapped bandages around her hands and continued. This… this was her penance. She hadn’t been able to be there for her family when they’d died, so she’d do what she could now.
They had two shovels, thankfully – one that was adult-sized and one kid-sized. Tanjirou had somehow grown larger to use the adult-sized shovel, which she assumed was just part of his new demon powers. When they were done, she said a brief prayer for her family, her brother at her side. Tears rolled down both their cheeks, and her older brother pulled her into a hug, pressing his cheek against her head.
“Sor…ry,” he said quietly. “Couldn’t… couldn’t protect…”
Nezuko hugged him back fiercely. “It’s not your fault,” she said angrily. Her tears soaked her brother’s yukata as she pressed her face against him. “It’s the fault of whoever killed our family.”
She’d thought it would be an accident, like the falling brazier, or maybe an animal that Tanjirou could’ve smelled and avoided. At worst, she’d imagined someone would be hurt, injured, but would eventually heal, just like Tanjirou had done.
But she’d been wrong. While she’d been sleeping peacefully in old man Saburo’s house, her family had been getting brutally murdered and her older brother getting turned into a demon. She’d been naïve, innocently thinking that of course her big brother would fix everything, he always did. It’d been an unfair weight to put on his shoulders, and she regretted with every fiber of her being that it’d been him who’d gone down the mountain, him who’d been spared. Her brother was the special one. He was brave and kind and gentle, whereas she… was just Nezuko. The only thing special about her – her intuition – had spared her instead of her brother, and she suddenly kind of hated it for that.
At long last, it was time to go. Nezuko grabbed the basket she’d used to take down charcoal and lined it with cloth, filling it with everything she thought they might need – food and money, mostly. She stared at the hatchet they used to chop wood and, after a moment’s hesitation, tucked it into the basket too.
(words won’t work against demons)
Hand in hand, she and her brother walked away from home for the last time.