Chapter Text
Prologue: The Sun Dream and Awaken by Scent of Blood
It started one fine autumn morning when the Kamados were preparing for a long day of charcoal burning. The second son, Takeo was excited he would be allowed to join his brother and father to forage in the forest. Nezuko was watching him run around their dining room with a fond smile. While their mother was cooking breakfast, and father went out to chop bigger firewood for them.
“Takeo, do not run like that.” Warned their mother, from their dining room he could see her pregnant figure watching the stove and not even looking at them. She could tell from Takeo’s footsteps he was overly excited.
“Ha ha ha- ah!” Takeo fell- nothing new because he was always the more brazen of the three. Then, at the same time, the brazier pot tipped over in his direction.
Tanjirō saw what happened in slow motion, Takeo yelping as his ankle twisted, the lid of the pot flew and the water spilled from the pots- forming droplets and- hot ash and charcoal scattered everywhere-
Tanjirō was on another side of the room when this happened but his body moved before he could think, his heart raced in that instant to the point he could hear the noise it made as it pumped blood throughout his body. His lungs sucked in air as he threw himself over his brother, shielding Takeo from ash and hot water.
“Tanjirō!”
“Nii-chan!”
He had a fever that day and was asleep for three days feeling the hottest burn on his temple. The doctor called by his parents was confused, a burn shouldn’t put someone to exhaustion to the point they sleep as long as he did. However the diagnosis of the old doctor was so- the wound would leave an ugly scar but nothing serious, but Tanjirō’s tiny body was exhausted. Perhaps it was the trauma from the accident.
The last conjecture turned untrue because Tanjirō was never scared of fire, and the wound if anything made him happy. “Dad and I match!”
Tanjurō 's POV
and Kie were relieved Tanjirō took the accident and his scar with cheerful innocence only a child could have. However, it was unmistakable that something had change since then for their oldest son.
Tanjirō always loved his younger siblings, but from then on there was… a look of wonder in his eyes whenever Nezuko and Takeo clung to him affectionately. As if he could not believe his siblings loved him so much and wanted to spend time with him.
A month after, their fourth child, Hanako was born. Tanjirō was just five years old but strong enough to hold his baby sister. Tanjirō was smiling as he cooed to Hanako, and tears were streaming down his face. “Thank you for being born, little sister.”
That winter, Tanjurō started teaching his firstborn Hinokami Kagura. It was… earlier than usual, but he believed his son deserved it. Something was happening to his son, and Tanjurō was afraid for Tanjirō. One day when his illness was giving him a harder time than usual and he had to stay in bed, Tanjurou chose to explain their special way of breathing.
“Once you figure it out, you can dance forever.”
Tanjirō was reluctant, his boy had asked if Takeo could do it instead. Tanjurou wouldn’t force any of his sons, but he felt his firstborn ‘needed’ the legacy to anchor him.
His deep red eyes narrowed, “...Mom said we dance for Hinokami to protect us from threats and diseases. Is that true, Dad?”
“That’s right.” Tanjurou answered proudly. “But our Hinokami Kagura is more than just a New year eve’s ritual for us… it’s also a promise for the future, keeping a legacy alive.”
Tanjirō frowned at that, “...A legacy, but why?”
“Because… those who come before us live through this legacy, is it not amazing my son? For as long as we live and dance, as did the generations after us. Like a stone that paved the path to the future. As long as you believe in that, you can lift your head and live with pride.”
“Dad…”
“That’s why Tanjirō, no matter what… this dance and earrings in my ears alone shall be passed onto you.”
Tanjirō looked at a loss for a moment, lifting his hands in the air as if the boy didn’t know what to do with it. Tanjurou just smiled and opened his arms so his boy could cling to him. “Thank you… Dad…” His boy was crying.
His bruise was… special, Tanjirō knew this when winter arrived and the spring near their hut froze to a beautifully reflective surface. The water was not deep, so Tanjirō was allowed to go to check the trap for fish his father had left earlier. That was the first time Tanjirō laid eyes on his face after he was scarred.
“...My scar looks like this?” It's supposed to be… different like the-
Tanjirō then saw the scar morph, becoming flame-like as if threatening to dye his whole face in red. “No-no no no!!!” Tanjirō picked up a rock, bigger than his tiny body could have lifted but he did and smashed the reflection.
He ran back to his home, a tiny home bigger than three tatami rooms but still small enough he could always see his parents and siblings. Nezuko noticed Tanjirō was upset right away and she insist to share his futon that night, even with the comfort of his sister by his side- Tanjirō didn’t stop dreaming of a three-tatami mat room with a small window, a sickly mother, a brother who couldn’t see him without being punished and a taciturn father disgusted by his scars.
When he woke up the next day, Tanjirō pretended nothing was wrong. He was Kamado Tanjirō, the son of Tanjurou and Kie.
Not the unwanted son of the noble house of Tsugikuni with an ugly scar.
Tanjirō fought for all his life so the past would never be his present. His scar remained just a slightly dark skin patch on his temples, and while he could smell better than normal people, he was normal and he could even help people with it. Someone forgot their stove was still burning unattended. A thief broke into a home, it was just a cat in the end. An old man was dying and they get to call his children before it was too late.
Tragedy and death smell like blood.
This never changed regardless of the era.
The same scent had been clinging stronger and stronger onto Tanjirō’s father. Whenever he looked at his father, his eyes flickered from normal sight to that world. A world his father also knew, so they knew he at best only have a few years. Tanjirō had been learning how to dance Hinokami Kagura since he was six, but he never give it his all. It was disrespectful- he could dance ‘correctly’ but never with all his heart.
He was afraid to reach out to the sun once more.
“It’s fine if you are still scared, Tanjirō… you can teach Takeo or Shigeru. It’s the legacy of our family, not your burden.”
But it was… in his fear he spat on the promise kindly kept by his current family. “Father… it’s our legacy, please allow me to dance with you this new years eve.”
So he did, he danced as his father did even though the dark memory sleeping within him scream for ‘dancing’ instead of fighting with Hinokami Kagura. It was a dance now, so it had to be beautiful not powerful. He was wielding a ceremonial staff not a blade, he will pray to protect his family from misfortune and beckon prosperity to Hinokami.
Even if the Gods were cruel… so cruel-
Hinokami- no… Kami…
please, let me live a mundane life free of strife.
Protect my family-
Tanjirō was ten years old when he danced in the ritual together with his father from sunset to sunrise. Then next year, and the next- when he turned eleven, Tanjirō knew he would dance all by himself that year.
In his eleventh autumn, he buried his father under the fall of reddening and yellowing leaves. The sun was setting when they were done, and unforgiving red-like blood dyed the ancestral mountain of Kamado Family. It was like a premonition of an end to his peaceful life, but Tanjirō averted his eyes away. Away from the sun, or the dark shadow it cast upon his body- as black as the nichirin blade the previous sun wielded.
The hanafuda earring felt hot in his pierced ears.
Two months later, Kamado Tanjirō found history repeating itself. His life was painted in red once more and happiness slipped from his hands, shrouded in scent of blood. This small home where they sleep close enough to look at each other’s faces and hold hands, happiness that vanished from his hands again.
Why? Because demons exists in this beautiful world.
Tanjirō could see and smell everyone but Nezuko was dead, but even Nezuko… something was consuming her from within. Tanjirō wanted to carry his still warm sister and bring her to a doctor to save her. However he couldn’t move, he knew no doctor in their small village could save her from that .
Something inside him said death would be her salvation but he fiercely push back that cruel voice. Yet, at the same time, he couldn’t go against that all-knowing voice and tried the futile attempt of bringing his sister to the village and finding a doctor. Nezuko was changing, and that thing made her not human. Tanjirō was always decisive, but he was not at that moment. He would get in between his family and a starving bear without a moment of hesitation, but this…
With what remained of his wit, he pulled Nezuko’s body away from their family hut.
No need to tempt her- the cruel voice said. Save her from misery.
Before he knew it, they had arrived in front of father’s grave. Tanjirō sat down in the cold snow in front of his remaining sibling and the grave, feeling helplessness and despair. A part of his mind said he should start digging graves for his family for proper burial, but most of him just stop. At last, after a moment passed a growl escaped Nezuko’s lips, and she woke up.
“Nezuko…”
She rose from the snow, her pupil became cat-like. Then she pounced at him with inhuman strength, knocking the air out of his lungs. Tanjirō felt the coldness of snow on his back and faced his demonic sister and the cloudy sky. “...Ohisama abandon us, Nezuko…”
Gone was the gentle girl, her face was twisted with hunger and her lips watered. He could have pushed her off, used his scarf to stuff that mouth with sharp fangs… Tanjirō did nothing. He couldn’t hurt his sister even if it was to protect himself from her.
“Nezuko… my dear sister.”
There was humanity left in her when Tanjirō called- she began to cry. “Ugh… grh…” Tears didn’t suit her, Nezuko should smile bright and warm like the sun she loved so much.
My brother is beloved by the sun, it’s always sunny when you pray to Ohisa-sama! The laundry is all dry and warm, thank you!
Nezuko’s mouth opened wide, and she bend down slowly to reach his neck. Tanjirō just looked at the cloudy sky, and as he felt a brush of her fang in his jugular- a black blur swooped in and Nezuko cried out in pain. Tanjirō sat up, his eyes went wide at the winged creature pecking at Nezuko’s left eye. She fell over, rolling over before her petite body crashed into a sakaki tree clutching her bloody left eye.
It was a large crow with three legs, perching on a branch of Sakaki. He could see himself reflected on the dark eyes, and on the bloody beak was… Nezuko’s eyes. He froze at the gory scene and his hand reached out. The three-legged crow didn’t hesitate to swoop in, grasping the offered hand with force enough to draw blood even with his thick clothing.
His brain was not working properly, because Tanjirō offered his other hand to the crow. It then dropped the mangled eyeball. Mixed with Nezuko’s scent was… that vile scent that almost drowned out his family’s. It was the taint that should not exist, dyeing his family and their happiness in the foul scent of death.
“Caw!”
His lips at last moved, “...I was born for this, and I can not run away.” Tears fell from his eyes, staining his cheeks. “My family… did they die to open the path?” He looked at Nezuko, she had fallen asleep deeply.
The crow didn’t answer, just looked at him with eyes like the darkest night.
That was all the answer Tanjirō needed, and he screamed in terror. “Aarrgh!!! Ah- “ His guttural scream reached no one, and Tanjirō waved his hand so the crow flew away. He picked Nezuko up and ran back to his home, where the scene of carnage remained. All he could do was sat down in front of the extinguished brazier, in the dining room, surrounded by the dead bodies of his family. His tired body moved, gathering them as close as possible to his side. Nezuko was still asleep with her head on his lap, while his arms cradled Rokuta’s tiny body.
Time passed and he could only tell it had been more than a day since Rokuta’s body in his arms had become cold and hard. Only Nezuko in his lap was still warm to the touch- no- she was burning like a furnace. It was a strange feeling to feel the heat in his lap but everything else was just cold.
“Move.” A voice that was not his said.
Tanjirō looked up, something about the voice didn’t allow him to ignore it. There was an unknown man in his home, flame-like scars on left side of his face, long reddish hair and sharp eyes of similar color, wearing a red haori over a very pale orange-colored nagagi kimono with a black umanori-styled hakama, a pair of zōri with red straps and white tabi socks, with a Sword carried at the left side of his waist.
He looked like a samurai of old.
“...If you do not move, you will be a man of no value.”
Does his value matter when his life already crumbled?
“You’re my legacy, and it pains me to see the burden is passed onto you. However, you can only ignore the call for so long.” Said the samurai. “You can not return to your old life now your family has crossed to the other side… and your only remaining sister is stained by that man’s blood. All so you stay alive to fulfill your mission…”
“I am alive.” Tanjirō echoed, he knew that in his very being. “The path is set for me… for everyone else.”
“It is so…”
Tanjirō asked, “Were you me?”
“No…you misunderstand.” The samurai said. “You inherit divine decree that was given to me, so you see snippets of my memory, my feeling.”
That was true, the scar-like sunburst in his forehead and reflection that was not his…
The samurai continued. “I am the first and you are the second. It pains me that Sumiyoshi’s promise to me so I may have a legacy doom you to the same fate… All because of I am lacking- I failed… and many more died…”
“Many more died…” He echoed.
“It pains me.”
“It brings us pains….”
This pain would follow for all eternity until that demon was exterminated. He looked down at Nezuko and asked. “...Why Nezuko is alive?”
“She is spared for the same reason your family died…” Said the ghost of the past. “The grace given to her is conditional, your family offers their heart, prayer, and soul in their kagura… so the firstborn is blessed by the sun but that is all.”
Divine favor was not plentiful, the grace of the sun in the sky could only be so much- too much would just destroy instead of nurturing.
“The blessing is just meant to destroy the demon and yourself.”
His eyes widened and when he looked up the samurai was gone, but in his place was Uncle Saburo. The man let out a shuddering breath. “Oh my God… Tanjirō, was it a demon?”
“...Saburo-jiisan.” Tanjirō called him.
“...Have you been like this for three days?”
He had no idea, what day was today.
Saburo-jiisan helped him dig the grave beside his father’s, and Tanjirō felt numb to the bone after they were done. He was then given a bowl of miso soup to warm himself up, he had not eaten or drink anything for days. It was a miracle he hadn't collapsed from exhaustion.
He wanted to pray longer but Saburo-jiisan objected. “Like hell, I will let you and Nezuko stay in the bloody house any longer! Just come with me, and I will ask someone from the village to clean up! No child should scrub the blood of his family from his house!”
“But Nezuko… she-”
“I will risk having her in my house, just let adults help you…” According to Saburo-jiisan they could just laid Nezuko down in the closet. Demon died if exposed to the sun, and due to the small size of Saburo’s hut that was the only place she could be safe during the day.
Saburo tucked him in that day, and Tanjirō missed the scent of his family more than ever but sleep claim him and let him have a dreamless rest. When he woke up the sun was already high in the sky, and he could only confirm his sister was alive and warm in the closet and did not dare to open it. At night, when he could open the closet and saw his sister’s face again… her eyes had healed and grown a new eyeball but the scar around her eyes remain, blooming like a sunflower.
It was beautiful but haunting at the same time.
During dinner, he couldn’t focus. “...I have a mission, I have to go…somewhere but I do not know,” Tanjirō confessed sadly to Saburo.
Saburo-jiisan sighed, “There are two paths chosen by those who survive a demon’s attack, first- they move on with their life and pray the demon doesn’t come back.” Like him went unspoken. “Second, they joined the Demon Slayer Corps to seek vengeance and protect humanity like their savior.” He sighed. “Someone like you would take the second option without hesitation, I am sure.”
“How do I join the corps?”
“...I don’t know much… but if you have the talent you will be recruited, trained, and then have to pass some sort of selection somewhere…” Saburo grumbled. “That said, there are hundreds of demon slayers scattered all over this country but… I am not sure if you can run to them when you want to.”
Tanjirō frowned. “...Is there no way?”
“...A relative of mine join the Demon Slayer Corps- no… to be exact he is recruited to support the slayers as a blacksmith.” Tanjirō’s eyes widened with hope. “It would take a while for me to contact him but it’s better than wandering without direction to find someone from the corps…” He trailed off. “So don’t do anything stupid, Tanjirō.”
“I will be patient.”
For the next few days, a group of visitors came into Saburo’s small hut to offer their condolence to Tanjirō. Saburo told them it was a bear, not a demon who did it. The adults heaped him with all sorts of gifts to cheer him up, and they also said volunteers had gone to the house to clean up the blood and everything. They also had carried his father’s ceremonial robe, staff, and other trinkets to remember his family. Saburo also lied that Nezuko was taken in by a distant relative to a better hospital in the city to recover, while she was actually sleeping in the closet. Tanjirō just nodded and smiled, he could never be a good liar like Saburo.
Two weeks after Saburo send his letter, a man with a Hyotoko mask by the name of Tetsuido came. He was Saburo’s youngest maternal uncle, and there was awkwardness as the man didn’t use his old name anymore but a pseudonym. Apparently, swordsmiths serving the Demon Slayer Corps had to hide their face and identity to protect the secret of their special blade.
“So where’s the child?” asked Tetsuido.
Saburo told Tanjirō to wait in the storage room first with Nezuko just in case, after all, they couldn’t guarantee Tetsuido would be cooperative. Tanjirō entered the room and greeted the swordsmith as politely as he could.
Tetsuido gasped, “Oh my… he is the son of a coal burner family you said? What an auspicious-looking child with his reddish hair and eyes, the child of brightness.”
Before he could stop himself, Tanjirō said. “Blessings and curse go hand in hand…” Child of Brightness, for generations the firstborn of the Kamado family was blessed by the sun.
Tetsuido seemed to ignore Tanjirō’s rude retort and instead came closer. “That scar on your face… and the hanafuda earrings, you look just like the treasured karakuri doll a craftsman in our village modeled after the strongest demon slayer from the golden era.”
“Oi- oi.. Tetsuido-jiisan.”
“Who are you, kid?” Asked Tetsuido bluntly.
Tanjirō wondered too. “...He is the first, I am his second… his legacy.”
Saburo looked at him as if Tanjirō was losing his mind, while Tetsuido just sighed. “...It was just a doll, but a doll is a likeness of a human. Whenever my old friend shows me his family’s masterpiece I can’t help but think… the human this doll was modeled after is someone outwardly solemn and peaceful but deep down there’s strong sorrow and pain that never cease.”
“...Ah.” His predecessor was someone like that.
“You’re not that solemn from what I see but… the sadness and compassion is the same. Why a kid like you was chosen for this bloody path where that kindness will kill you from the inside?” He wondered out loud. “I have forged perhaps more than a hundred blades in my lifetime for slayers… kind ones either break or dead.”
The scent of sadness and regret was strongly coming from Tetsuido, but Tanjirō couldn’t respond to that feeling. “I wonder if I am truly the chosen one like my predecessor. But... even if I don't have the powers of a chosen one... However, I can’t back down, because there are monsters in this world. Monsters with no souls. Monsters who take life without hesitation, remorse or regret…” His eyes narrowed, “I can not forgive, I can not run… I will fight with my everything.”
There was a long silence from Tetsuido, Saburo too was silent as he looked at Tanjirō. “...Very well boy, I know several trainers whose swords I forged. However… the breathing technique of your predecessor is long gone, nobody could teach you that.”
“Doesn’t matter, I will find my way.”
“I am sure you will… once you become a proper slayer, I will forge you the best sword I can… Kamado Tanjirō.” It was a promise.
The next day he packed up, and with a recommendation letter he departed to take his first step to becoming a Demon Slayer.