Disclaimer: Kimetsu no Yaiba doesn't belong to me

He was the Flame Hashira. Fire was a familiar friend to him. His eyes, his hair, and his blade all bore the color of flames. His attacks were as deadly as a wildfire; his spirit burned with the brightness of one.

And yet, despite his familiarity with fire, the pink flames surrounding him were completely foreign. Vaguely, he could hear his brother cry out in concern as the pink flames enveloped him, dancing around him and tickling his skin.

Flames shouldn't tickle, yet these pink flames did.

Flames should burn even him, yet these pink flames didn't.

The flames had started at his wrist, but there was no source of ignition in sight. Even as the wind blew through the courtyard, even as his clothes never caught fire, the pink flames danced and danced around him.

'Something is wrong. A Blood Demon Art? Here?' he thought.

No, something was wrong, but it wasn't that.

Everything came crashing back to him like a wave on a beach, flooding through his mind and drowning out his dream. Still, the pink flames danced.

Fiery eyes snapped open. Pink flames blinded him, but regardless he could sense a demon nearby. His arm shot out, striking something with enough force to send it across the train car. There was a thud and grunt of pain, and suddenly the pink flames extinguished just as quickly as they started.

His eyes widened as the scene before him became visible, immediately getting to his feet. Metal sang as slimy, globulous flesh crawled and squelched over nearly every visible centimeter of the train car, his Nichirin blade reflecting the ugly scene on its red surface. Demon flesh clung to the walls, hung from the ceiling, oozed on the floor, and it smelled. Even with his rather average nose, he scrunched up his face in disgust.

A gentle tug on his cape caught his attention. Wide, pink, innocent eyes met his own as he stared down at Kamado's demon sister. Her face was marred with a healing bruise from when he'd struck, and she kept just out of his reach.

Not that it would have mattered had she been the enemy.

"You… The pink flames. That was you, wasn't it? You were waking me up," he realized. "You were waking us all up." Only now did it register that Kamado and the boar headed boy were missing from the car, leaving only himself, the yellow boy, and a number of other passengers with the demon girl.

She nodded subtly, tugging on his cape once more and pointing. Guilt made his stomach churn uncomfortably as he watched the remains of the bruise heal, but he pushed it to the back of his mind. He could apologize properly later; first, he needed to find those two boys and defeat this demon.

He nodded back, a silent understanding reached between them, and strode away to assess the worsening situation.

"Hn, to think that all of this happened while I was dozing. How could this be? I'm ashamed as a Hashira," he said, stopping in the middle of the train car.

"If only I could crawl under a rock!" Rengoku thundered, raising his sword and leaping into a blaze of action.

'I'm sorry,' he thought as the sun touched the scarred earth around him. The young demon girl would be hiding now and he had no strength left to find her. Every passing moment pulled more strength from his body and as much as he wished to apologize, he had too much to say and too little time.

"Young Kamado… I believe in your little sister…"

'Young demon girl, I'm… sorry.'

"I accept her as a member of the Demon Slayer Corps. I saw her bleeding as she protected the humans inside the train. Anyone who risks their lives fighting demons to protect humans... is a rightful member of the Demon Slayer Corps no matter what anyone else says."

'Young demon girl... I thank you, for protecting the humans on the train when I couldn't.'