A/N: This fic is getting so much love both here and in ao3, I can't believe it! Thank you very much for reading this silly little fic of mine. I hope you all continue to enjoy it. :D

Chapter Eleven: Our Own Words

"Have you changed?" Urokodaki asked.

"Yes, Urokodaki-san," Nezuko answered from inside the back bedroom. She opened the door, a determined set on her shoulders. Tanjirou's eyes widened as he saw her standing there in her demon slayer uniform: an all-black military-style collared shirt with a knee-length pleated skirt in place of hakama pants. On her feet, she was wearing her pink zori sandals with tabi socks and leg warmers, and on top of her uniform she wore the haori Tanjirou had painstakingly made for her, out of the old pink kimono she so dearly loved. Her shoulder-length hair was kept out of her face with a singular pink ribbon, the same one she had always worn, and strapped to her side was her nichirin blade, ready to be used. When she saw Tanijirou's eyes watching her, she smiled shyly and murmured, "Do I look weird?"

Tanjirou immediately shook his head vehemently, lifting both his thumbs to tell her how much he approved. How could his beloved little sister, the beauty of their hometown, ever look weird in anything? It suited her, as everything suited her, and Tanjirou would not budge on this very correct fact.

"How about you, Tanjirou? Are you ready?" Urokodaki asked.

Tanjirou nodded. He was wearing his usual attire: a black and green checkered haori over a white robe and black pants. His old, turquoise scarf was wrapped around his neck, hanafuda earrings hanging on his earlobes, bamboo muzzle on his mouth, his hair (which had gotten significantly longer, now going past his shoulders if he let it down) pulled back in a neat ponytail. On his side, he had his nichirin blade, and in his pockets he had some small necessities like money and the syringe kit that they got from the Butterfly Mansion.

The sun was high up in the sky that day, but that was no longer going to hold Tanjirou back, and he revelled in that fact with pleasure. If he hadn't developed sun resistance, he would probably still have to be carried around by Nezuko on her back— a literal burden on her shoulders— and he was glad that they were both past that. As they stood in front of Urokodaki, both set and ready to go, the old man reached over to tidy up their clothes, starting with Nezuko's collar and then with Tanjirou's scarf, before patting both their shoulders and letting out a pleased sound. Tanjirou let out a pleased sound of his own. Nezuko gave their mentor a bright smile.

"Take care in all your travels," Urokodaki said, and Tanjirou could smell him getting slightly emotional, under that mask. "And remember, you could always come back and visit, whenever you want."

"Thank you, Urokodaki-san," Nezuko said. "For everything."

Tanjirou did not know how else to express his gratitude, so he launched himself on the old man and gave him a tight hug. He really did owe Urokodaki a lot, from helping him get over his problem with sleep, to teaching him how to master the Hinokami Kagura— Urokodaki had done nothing but help him, from the very beginning.

Thank you, he wanted to say. Thank you so much.

Being back on the road after so long felt surreal. Before the tragedy that befell their lives, Tanjirou and Nezuko had never really had the chance to travel around so far, content to stay within the confines of their mountain and the village at the foot of it. Now, Tanjiro supposed being on the road would be a substantial part of their lives, at least until they accomplish their goals, and especially now that Nezuko was a demon slayer— but he wasn't complaining. As long as he and Nezuko were together, he was content. As long as their family won't be broken apart any further, he was okay with all these changes, okay with not having a proper home. One day, when all of this is over, they will come back to their mountain, come back to the house that's been the Kamado's for centuries. For now, they will fight together, until the day their lives could be peaceful once again.

"Onii-chan, I didn't want to start an argument in front of Urokodaki-san but…" Nezuko started, a small pout forming on her lips. Tanjirou paused in his walking, turning his head to face her, and she halted too, placing her hands on her hips. "Is that muzzle still really necessary?"

Tanjirou inhaled sharply, hands lifting up to touch the precious bamboo muzzle on top of his mouth. He nodded fervently in order to tell her that yes, it really is necessary, and then shook his head to say that no, he was not going to take it off, no matter what Nezuko's opinions about it are! Throughout the two years they have been training, Nezuko had always expressed discontent on the fact that Tanjirou rarely ever took off the muzzle Giyuu had given him, and he supposed Nezuko's opinion on it had not changed from the very moment Giyuu fastened the muzzle on Tanjirou's mouth. She just never really liked it.

But Tanjirou did. He liked the comfort it brought, and he has always seen the item as a tool to help him cling onto his humanity. Nezuko did not understand how hard it still was for Tanjirou, especially whenever it was time to drink blood— how sometimes it felt as if he was one step away from losing himself, from falling into his demonic instincts, from becoming a monster. The muzzle was not a punishment for him, Giyuu had said— it was a promise, and it was one Tanjirou took seriously. Nezuko sighed.

"Alright, alright, I'm not gonna say anything more about it. It's just that— I know I've gotten better at understanding you over the years, but that's just because I have the luxury of time to figure out your hums and noises. In a situation where you'd need to tell me something quickly, wouldn't the muzzle be a hindrance? At least if you have it off you could talk, even just a little! And besides, you're supposed to be pretending to be human, doesn't the muzzle kind of give you away?"

Tanjirou shook his head decisively. While she did have a point that a human with a muzzle was going to look weird, that's all it is— he would get strange looks, nothing more. It was better than his fangs being out in full view, or god forbid, his entire demonic form — slitted eyes, bulging veins and all— being out in the open when he attacks someone because he did not have a physical reminder to restrain himself. Not that he thought he would do that as soon as his muzzle was off, but Tanjirou did not trust his demonic side at all, so he was not going to risk it.

Her point about him not being able to relay information quickly had some merit though, as it could easily be a detriment in a life or death situation, but he didn't think speaking will do him any good either, especially not on the 'pretending-to-be-human' front. Whenever he spoke, his voice was always low and gravelly, like he was growling out words instead of speaking them. There was an inhuman quality to it that Tanjirou personally hated, a quality that would no doubt give his demonic nature away. If only there was a way to talk without actually talking, to relay information quickly without using his voice, and as soon as he mulled it over he realized he had been stupid. He should have thought about this earlier. Hadn't he already been doing this for the past two years?

Suddenly, he crouched on the ground, using his sharp fingernail to write in the dirt beside his feet. Curious, Nezuko crouched beside him, so like the way she used to back when they were younger that it made him feel warm inside. Tanjirou first wrote the word voice, and then scratched that out aggressively, meeting Nezuko's eyes firmly and cementing his opinion on the matter. And then, underneath that scribbled out word he wrote: Hand signals = words?

Thankfully, Nezuko was quick to understand. Her eyes lit up. "You want to make a language out of hand gestures? That's actually a good idea. Why haven't we thought of that before?"

Tanjirou nodded enthusiastically at her. A language that was theirs, language that only they would understand— it would be fun, like a game, and it would be useful as well. It was a shame that they had to make it in the first place, a shame that Tanjirou was still stuck with a speech impediment, even years after the attack. But privately, in the back of his mind, he figured his loss of speech must have been the price he paid for refusing to consume human flesh— maybe even the price he paid for being able to walk in the sun as well— and it was a price he was very much willing to pay. It was a pain, and they had to be creative to work around it, but it was not unbearable.

"Let's start making it while on the way to the city, why don't we, Onii-chan? Maybe we can start with names. Oh! Your name could be this," she said as she lifted her index finger straight up. "A single finger, like a number one— since you're the eldest son, Onii-chan."

Tanjirou mulled it over and figured he was fine with it. As they started walking on the road again, he reached out to touch Nezuko's hand and reposition her middle finger, straightening it so that it was outstretched beside the index finger, two fingers as close and tight to each other as he and Nezuko currently are. Together. He smiled at his own sentimentality as he gestured to the hand position and then pointed at Nezuko.

Nezuko stared at it and smiled, her eyes shining with understanding. "Yeah, that works for my name. Let's go with that. Hmm, what do you think Urokodaki-san's name should be?"

Tanjirou thought about it for a moment, before a silly thought crossed his mind. He lifted his hand to his face as if he was stroking a really long nose, and the two of them couldn't help but burst out laughing. There was nothing more Urokodaki than his red tengu mask, and even as they both figured they should really not make fun of their beloved mentor, neither of them could let go of Tanjirou's idea. Well, it was not like Urokodaki would know. It would just be their little secret.

They spent the rest of their trip figuring out hand signals for common people and common words, with Nezuko's Kasugai Crow cawing every now and then ahead of them to give them directions towards Asakusa. At one point, two of them had to go over the signals all over again from the beginning, if only so they would not forget which hand gestures were already given meaning, and which else were still ripe for claiming. Tanjirou took memorizing the signals with the same earnestness as he had memorizing the movements of his sword, and it seemed to him that Nezuko was giving the same effort. Anything to bridge the gap of communication that has been between the two of them since the day Tanjirou was turned into a demon.

By the time they had arrived at the great city, night had already fallen, but with the way the streets were riddled with bright lights, you would think it was still daytime. Nezuko gasped and gaped at the sights in front of them, and Tanjirou could not blame her— he was already feeling slightly dizzy, with the way the city was running and brimming with life. There were so many people, so many shops. The buildings were so high it hurt Tanjirou's neck to look at them, and there was some kind of vehicular monstrosity that ran on steel tracks on the ground. Tanjirou let out a disgruntled huff, his nose picking up the many scent of humans all around him. He had not been around this many humans since he's been turned, and it was a little overwhelming.

Thankfully, Nezuko seemed to notice his predicament, and she squeezed his hand. "Onii-chan, are you alright? Why don't we walk somewhere in the outskirts for a while?"

Tanjirou nodded at her gratefully, and the two of them walked out of the packed streets, into the darker, less crowded areas. They found themselves resting in front of an udon stand, Nezuko ordering a bowl while Tanjirou sniffed around curiously, trying to catch a whiff of demon so that they may be able to find Tamayo and leave the city soon. Unfortunately, it didn't seem like it would be that easy. The smell of all the humans around kept distracting him, making his mouth water. He swallowed his saliva and let out a displeased sound as he sat beside Nezuko, who had already started digging into her bowl of udon.

"Any luck, Onii-chan? Do you smell her?" she asked.

Tanjirou shook his head dejectedly. He stretched his index and middle finger and made a gesture with his hands that resembled a person walking.

"Then we will walk around, hopefully we can find her," Nezuko agreed, before slurping up some noodles. "Don't worry if we can't find her tonight, Urokodaki-san gave us enough money to stay at an inn for a few days. Hopefully it's not too expensive…"

Tanjirou nodded. As he waited for Nezuko to finish her dinner, he continued sniffing around, trying to make sense of the mouthwatering scents all around him. The smell of human human human was still prevalent, but the more he concentrated, the more he noticed that it was not all there was. There were hints of the sour, putrid smell he had come to associate with demons around the city here and there. He supposed they could follow each one and see if it leads them to Tamayo. Concerningly, there were more than one direction the demonic scents were coming from, and more than one kind of scent, suggesting that there were more than one demon in the area. Did Tamayo have more allies? He sure hoped that was the case. He didn't like the idea that dangerous, actual man-eating demons were prowling all over this busy city, attacking clueless civilians. He took a deep breath, trying to figure out which direction would be the best to go first, but then he caught a whiff of that scent, and his body suddenly froze.

No, he thought. No way.

"Onii-chan?" Nezuko asked, having finished her bowl of udon. Tanjirou turned his body to the direction of the scent, and he could practically feel his red eyes slitting as his hand reached to grab at his nichirin sword, fist tight around the hilt. His mind was racing, his body pumping with adrenaline at the thought of cutting that monster's head with his blade.

Never forgive.

"Onii-chan, what's the matter?" Nezuko's voice cut through the haze in his head. The haze that was burning with rage and screaming for vengeance. Nezuko's face was in front of him, looking worried and slightly alarmed, as she lifted both hands to cup his cheeks. "Calm down, Onii-chan. What did you smell?"

The monster, Tanjirou wanted to say. Instead, he let go of his sword, a shaking hand closing into a tight fist, pulling it close to his heart. It was a simple gesture that brought the two of them to silence earlier that day, when they decided on it. Nezuko's eyes widened in disbelief, and when she spoke, Tanjirou could hear the anger in her voice.

"Kibutsuji Muzan… here?" she whispered. And then, with a sudden purpose, she took the scarf around Tanjirou's shoulders and pulled it over his head, essentially making a hood to hide his face. She took his hand and started pulling him in the opposite direction he was facing earlier. Tanjirou let out a few low growls to express his discontent, his desire to seek out the Muzan's scent, not walk away from it. It was only when Nezuko gave him a look— a look of contained rage and quiet calculation— that he remembered Kagaya's words. Not yet. His fangs dug into the bamboo muzzle, grinding against the material. He was terribly frustrated.

"If he's in the city right now, there's even less chance we can find Tamayo-san on our own, as she would no doubt be hiding from him," Nezuko reasoned. "Let's find an inn for tonight and start searching in the morning, when Kibustuji Muzan can't move. Okay, Onii-chan?"

Tanjirou nodded reluctantly. Nezuko squeezed his hand.

The scent of the monster lingered in his mouth, and Tanjirou was not able to stop thinking about it for the rest of the night.

Taisho Secret: Since Nezuko and Tanjirou had been given the mission to find Tamayo, the mission to slay the Swamp Demon was given to a different demon slayer. Rest assured that the Swamp Demon has been defeated, and will no longer kidnap and devour sixteen-year-old girls.