AN: Like all my works, this is cross-posted from AO3/Archive of Our Own.


Nezuko heaved and panted. Her throat and chest were tight and aching, and her eyes were watery. Tears spilled down her face, smudging the warm liquid smeared around her mouth. She felt like she was going to black out, she was so dizzy.

Tanjiro lay down beneath her, surrounded by reddened snow. Her eyes darted across his body in a panic; one lower arm was completely missing, horrid, deep cuts were scratched into him, and there were fang-like shapes gouged out everywhere.

"No…" she whimpered. She lifted and stared at her hands, which were dripping blood, her nails especially. And the taste in her mouth, just like the smell wafting off the blood…

She didn't want to believe it. She pushed his torso gently, but insistently. "P-please Tanjiro," she managed to croak out. "Y-you're scaring me, please wake up…"

He didn't answer. He didn't even move.

This wasn't real. This couldn't be real. This, and what she was dimly remembering now about what happened back at the house… None of it was real, it was just a bad dream. She was going to wake up now. Tanjiro was going to wake up now. He'd just fallen over and got scratched up a little, that was all.

The tears were getting stronger now, breaking through faster and harder than ever before.

"Please, Tanjiro." Her voice was strained and broken. She didn't want to believe it, but it was getting harder to deny what she saw, or the memories that were clearing up.

Pushing him again, harder this time, and in a clearer voice, she almost yelled. "Tanjiro, don't do this, please wake up!"

She cradled his limp body in her arms. "I'm sorry brother, I'm sorry! I didn't mean it, so please just wake up!" she sobbed. "D-don't leave me, I'm begging you!"

Tanjiro was dead, and it was her fault. She had killed him. The axe, unlike everything else on him, didn't have a drop of blood on it, but plenty of teeth marks on the handle. He had been defending himself, but didn't do anything to hurt her. Even while she was trying to—no, was killing him, he was only thinking about her safety. He must have seen what had happened at the house, what happened to everyone… Did he think it was her? And still not fight back? Why?! Why didn't he fight back?! All these gashes and cuts, it… it must have hurt…

She screamed and cried, tugging his body closer. "P-please forgive me Tanjiro! I didn't want to— I didn't mean it, I'm s-sorry! I'm so sorry!"

After that cruel thing appeared at their house, Tanjiro was all she had left, and now she had killed him without even hesitating. The guilt was horrible—like her chest was going to crush her heart into dust.


Was it minutes? Seconds? It wasn't long, but she didn't know how much time she had lain there and sobbed, before she heard crunching footsteps. She didn't care to turn her head. Whoever it was, they didn't matter, not unless they could bring him back.

She felt a hand on her back, but she didn't move. She just hugged what remained of her dear brother tightly, as if that would stop his soul from leaving; as if it was still in there.

"Little girl?" a woman's voice said. "What happened? Who did this?"

Nezuko couldn't say anything; what would she even say? How would that solve anything?

The woman stroked her back. "Aw, poor thing… Please look at me? I'm here to help."

Nezuko sniffled, but it didn't stop her crying. She turned her head and saw a woman crouched down beside her. She had wavy black hair with a butterfly ornament in it, and purple clothes under a haori with a butterfly pattern. She was short for a grown-up.

The woman stood up suddenly, pulling her hand away, and the kind look on her face that Nezuko had glimpsed became hardened and stern. "Oh my… So you are a demon. A new one, it looks like." Grabbing the handle of her sheathed sword, she said, "You're the one who killed him then. Is he the only one, or are there others?"

Nezuko brought her hands up to her face, fingertips lightly touching her lips, stained with blood and tears. A demon? That sounded like the right word for someone like her—someone who killed and ate the only person she had left in the world… She wasn't any better than the pale man; maybe she was even worse, for doing this to someone she loved.

But the woman said she was here to help. "Please… Please, can you… Please help him! He's my brother, p-p-please save him… I'll do anything, just save him!…"

Nezuko knew deep down that it was hopeless, that he was already gone. Still she begged; she had to, even if there was the slightest chance, or even if there was none at all.

The woman looked surprised and confused, and then sympathetic—a terrible look that confirmed Nezuko was asking for something the woman couldn't do for her. "Oh, sweetheart…"

Unable to bear that expression anymore, or that pitying voice, Nezuko turned and threw herself back down onto Tanjiro's body, sobbing harder again.

The woman murmured to herself. Her voice briefly sounded angry about something, before the tone changed to pity; but Nezuko couldn't hear what she was saying, and didn't care either.

Nezuko felt a slight scratch on her neck, and clasped the spot instinctively with her hand. She turned up to look at the woman, eyes wide and tearful. Was that from the sword? It was drawn now, and with her newly keen eyes, she saw the words 'Destroy Demons' written into the side. And a slight drip of blood on the edge. It smelled like her blood. But Tanjiro was always the one who could smell things like that, not her; it felt so wrong that she could sense it now.

They stared at each other for a few seconds, and the woman sighed. "I really shouldn't do this, but…come here," she said, kneeling down onto the snow, and reaching her arms out for a hug.

Nezuko was unsure for a moment, and briefly glanced back at Tanjiro… Then she leaped into the woman's arms and bawled, the sound muffled by the woman's chest. She cursed herself for making the selfish decision to seek comfort, when she knew she deserved to suffer for what she'd done.

"I… I want him back… I didn't want to hurt him… I want my brother back…"

"I know, little one, I know." The woman stroked Nezuko's head, brushing delicate fingers through her hair—a kindness she was certain she didn't deserve. "What's your name?"

"Ne… Nezuko…" she whimpered.

"Nezuko…" the woman said absently. "It's all going to be okay Nezuko, just relax… I promise it won't hurt…"

Despite everything, Nezuko did manage to start feeling calmer, though tears flowed freely still. A tingling feeling was spreading from her cut, seeping through her muscles; her body grew loose, limp and numb, and everything was getting dark.

"That's it, Nezuko, don't be scared, just rest… I'll make your brother all better, and he'll be right beside you when you wake up, with a big smile on his face."

Yes… Tanjiro would be okay. She would get to tell him she was sorry for hurting him. She wouldn't be alone. Soon, just after this nap.

This woman's arms were so warm and soft; it was as if mother was holding her, as she drifted away into sleep…