Tanjiro stared down at the unconscious Akaza, breathing hard, then looked down at his own hand – the one he wasn't missing (the one that wasn't growing back… he didn't like watching his limbs regrow – it drove home how inhuman he was) and just stared at it for several seconds.

He… hadn't thought he'd win the first time, to be honest. And… how ironic was it that training to fight Kokushibo was what finally got him strong enough to defeat Akaza on his own. Without a blade even. (Admittedly, there had been liberal use of his blood art, but that wasn't exactly against the rules.)

Tanjiro flexed his hand (covered in blood, but it was Akaza's and he was alive, so he reminded himself that it was fine) and watched as his claws extended and retracted.

He'd won.

He'd won…

It was both a rush of exhilaration at the accomplishment and utterly sickening when he began to think about the consequences and implications…

Then he heard clapping. A slow, loud crack each time that reverberated throughout the silence of the area they'd been fighting in. Tanjiro looked to the edge of said clearing and his face paled. That… that was Muzan. Part of him wanted to attack the man – just rush at him with every ounce of power he could bring to bear – but most of him realized that A. he was not ready for that yet and B. he still had the man's curse this time around as he hadn't consciously thrown it off (that was harder than he'd thought it would be after years – decades – of automatically throwing it off as soon as possible).

"I remember you," the demon king said in amusement as he continued to practically glide into the clearing. Tanjiro had to force himself to not run. (Or attack, he still wanted to do that too, but he refused to be that stupid.)

Muzan began to pace around Tanjiro, looking him up and down like a butcher would a piece of meat. His shiny shoes stepped over the debris that were the remnants of a fight of Waxing Moon strength with little thought and no care.

"Six months. It has been six months since you were turned and you've gotten this strong already?" He looked impressed and very pleased for several seconds, but then he frowned.

"So tell me, why was it that whenever I turned my attention to you, I could never find you before now?"

It was a tricky question. If Tanjiro answered this one wrong, he'd likely wake up at home again… as a human. He'd really like to avoid that if he could (until he got the information he was after, at least).

So he took a deep breath and told a truth. "Demons I've met tend to just hide during the day. I've found that if I sleep during the day, I get stronger faster." He pushed memories of the loops he'd had – at least 40 or so ago – where he would find himself attacking people out of demonic hunger, and then running to hide and trying to sleep once the sky lightened.

Muzan frowned. "Risky. If another demon had found you…"

"But they didn't," Tanjiro said, ignoring how dirty he felt. "And here I am."

"True," the demon progenitor said, humming.

"So, why do you want to be a Kizuki?" he finally asked, sounding curious this time.

To find out all I can about you and the other Kizuki so when I finally do fight and kill you, I'll have a better chance, he thought to himself, then pushed said thought to the back of his mind harshly. He was sure that Muzan didn't get direct thoughts unless a demon spoke aloud. Otherwise, he got gists and feelings with maybe a couple of clearer words here and there. It was the only thing that made sense with some of his previous experiences as a demon.

Once again, he decided to settle for a half-truth. "Honestly… I wanted to speak with you… sir," he said, looking away nervously.

"Oh?" Muzan asked.

Tanjiro nodded, then glanced up at the demon king for a second before looking back down. He had to act subservient – no matter how much it galled him. "Um… you said… on the night… we met," he tried not to wince at that – it was never a pleasant memory, being turned into a demon. "You said you hated my eyes and my earrings… and I… um… wanted to know why, if you're willing to tell me, sir." He forced himself to add a bow to that. It was polite. Muzan would appreciate polite… he hoped.

(He also very much hoped not and couldn't help but berate himself for coming up with and following through on such a bad idea as infiltrating the upper ranks. What had he been thinking?!

Well, too late now.)

"You remember that?" Muzan asked, curious.

Of course he remembered it. The stupid demon king said it every single time he turned Tanjiro into a demon.

Be polite, he reminded himself. "Yes, sir."

For several seconds, he wondered if Muzan would actually tell him, but then the demon king just scoffed. "You remind me of someone I didn't like. That is all."

Tanjiro couldn't help but be a little disappointed. He'd always wondered what exactly Muzan thought about Yoriichi.

"Oh. I… see," he finally said, then fell into silence.

He knew what happened to anyone who argued with Muzan.

(He hated this.)

"You've asked your question, received an answer, and you still want the position?" the demon king asked.

Tanjiro wanted to snort. It wasn't as if the monster before him would give him a choice.

So he looked the man in the eye and nodded. "I knew what I was getting into when I challenged Waxing Three."

He remembered the Waxing Moon with the blue fingers and the pink hair yelling, screaming, desperate and yet in ecstasy. He lived for those kinds of fights. (He always had as far as the time-traveler knew.)

Tanjiro didn't get it.

He had little doubt Akaza would try and challenge him again, if only for a good fight.

Muzan just grinned. "I hate your eyes and earrings because they remind me of a man who could use a breathing style called 'Sun Breathing'. He gave those to your family for a reason. I know your family has a style they've passed down through the ages."

Tanjiro frowned. Had he only recently learned that, or had he know that before that night? Still, he had to be truthful or Muzan would know. (And even if he didn't, Tanjiro was not about to take that chance.)

"A… style? We have no relation to a samurai family. We didn't have a fighting style. I mean… we had a dance no one else had… nothing else."

The demon king leaned close. Tanjiro clenched his fists so hard he could feel his claws draw blood. The pain grounded him, giving him the presence of mind to not back away.

"A dance, you say? And you remember that too?"

Tanjiro tipped his head to one side. "Do most demons not remember their human lives?"

Instead of answering, Muzan just chuckled and (thankfully) stepped back. "Show me your dance."

He didn't want to. He really didn't want to. But he did anyway.

(Why did it feel like tiny parts of whatever he had left of himself died every time he acquiesced?)

"That is a sword form," Muzan said, once Tanjiro finished. Then he nodded. "You can conquer the sun for me. Learn to walk in the light of day and I will make you Waxing One."

Tanjiro's breath caught in his throat. That was not happening… not this time in any case.

But he couldn't let Muzan know that, so he nodded eagerly. (He hoped it looked eager.)

Then the older demon's hand was on his head.

Tanjiro hadn't seen him move.

"Welcome to the Kizuki, Waxing Three."

His eyes burned.

He didn't scream, but it was a near thing.

If he'd known what that had done to his very soul, he would have.

xXx

AN: So here we have about loop 81... ish (he's still a little unsure). This belongs to the Reoccurring Sunrise series where Tanjiro goes through multiple time-loops, if you're curious.

Because I've had a couple of people ask for this, so here you go. Enjoy. Hope you like it. :)

The loops outside of Sunlight from the Ashes will likely always be snippets and one-shots. FYI

Thanks to TimeLordTim, Found and Quathis for this!

(Yes, for many people, this will be the third update this week... Merry Christmas/whatever holiday you celebrate.)

Discord: discord. gg/EVUrHMd4za (no spaces)