Swords slashed through the air, wood against wood and steel against steel. The musky sweet scent of the Wisteria flowers had a subtle underlying hint of the iron tang of sweat and blood. Once the Kasugai Crows were sent to the west and the end of the first day arrived, they realized that just standing around waiting for Tanjirou to arrive was simply idiotic. There was no time to rest, only a desperate desire to get stronger, no matter by what factor that strength arrived in. So the injured healed and recuperated, forcing what remaining Kakushi and Butterfly Mansion staff to work in overdrive, while the able-bodied trained in shifts. Four hours of sleeping. Two hours rest. Eight hours watch. Ten hours of training.

It was another coming of the Hashira Training and participants were pushed to the edge of physical and mental capacity. The purpose was just the same as before. Get stronger and awaken the Mark. They did not know how effective this boost of power would be and their inability to properly rely on information gathered over a thousand years was infuriating. Zenitsu stared at the distant sun, eyes averted just enough so that he didn't go blind. It used to give him hope and a sense of safety. A realm solely belonging to humans. A time of warmth and rest. Once a time, once upon a time, a time ago.

A warm breeze blew past his face and ruffled his hair into his eyes. Zenitsu blinked and looked away. It was well into the second day since Tanjirou ran away. Run? Zenitsu laughed. He didn't run. What would he be running from? From me? From them? From us who could have barely run ourselves?

He was standing outside a door that went into the mansion. Much of the estate was still being rebuilt but a worthy area of it had survived the explosion. It was thankful that the estate was large and that the explosives were concentrated in a single area. The majority of the damage had come from the fires that spread afterward as the Corps battled Muzan and his cohort in the Infinity Castle. As such, the Kakushi that stayed behind were able to contain the blaze. While other Slayers stood watch, he stood guard, directly protecting the Master of the Demon Slayer Corps when his shift arose. This was a privileged responsibility given only to the strongest. Strongest, Zenitsu thought. Since when did I become one of the strongest Slayers?

He raised a calloused hand and looked down at the marks that showed almost a decade's worth of swordsmanship perfection. "Since all the real ones died," he muttered.

The open hand turned into a fist. "What did you say?" another voice asked.

Zenitsu gripped his tsuka, but it was only a reflex hardened out of nerves. He had heard her coming and recognized her from her footsteps. Zenitsu relaxed his grip and chided himself. "Kanzaki-san," Zentisu greeted.

Aoi nodded. "I'm here to deliver Oyakata-sama's meal. What did you say?"

Zenitsu scratched the back of his head. "Nothing. I was just, uh, talking to myself. I'll take the meal in."

Aoi hesitated, slowly extending the tray of food. "A Slayer? A real Slayer? Or, did you mean, a strong Slayer?" Aoi waited. "You know," she continued when Zenitsu didn't respond. "With what you did… With all that's happened, you're one of the real strong ones now. No one can deny that."

"The bar has been lowered quite a bit, Aoi," Zenitsu said, grabbing the tray as his eyes wandered over to a particular girl running laps. "I'm still a coward. That bitch of a traitor Kaigaku would have won if he had spent just a little bit more time as a Demon. And even at the end… without Yushiro, I would have died with him anyway…" His voice trailed away as he began to stare.

Her waist-length hair had been cut down to shoulder length and tied into a ponytail. Even after the cut, her hair somehow still retained its fiery red ends. Her asanoha patterned pink kimono had been replaced by a gondola Slayer uniform and skirt that sparkled with a shade of dark red in the light. Her brown haori was now white with hints of pink that almost appeared to be an illusion to the eyes. She kept her zori and her tabi socks, and her kyahan-like shin wraps. Kamado Nezuko was a Slayer now. She ran with a red saya on her hip, accentuated with a red kojiri and koiguchi. A purple wisteria flower was etched onto the wood from top to bottom. The sword handle was what Tanjirou had left behind, the samehada, ito wrap, and tsuba, refurbished and repaired and replaced with a newly crafted blade.

Training her was none other than Tsuyuri Kanao. She stood, watching Nezuko, who was panting at this point, from her one good eye. In her right hand, she flipped a coin. Kanao was still recuperating from the injuries she sustained against Douma and Tanjirou alike, so joining her Tsuguko in training would do no good. That's right, Zenitsu thought. She's a Hashira now. The newly appointed Hashira was wearing a familiar butterfly-patterned haori, the same as her Master and her Master's Master wore. The legacy of the Butterfly Mansion had passed on, not in the way Kanao wanted it to, but in the way most Slayers were familiar. The death of a loved one.

Nezuko was physically fit, even more so than the average human being, though not by a large amount. It was a simple observation that was made easily when she calmed down the previous day and asked to be inducted into the organization. A few tests were ample enough to demonstrate her abilities. The usual formalities were foregone. No one expected her blade to change color as she had not received any training at all. And yet, at the moment she grasped it, the blade flourished pink with a tiny black hamon chipping at the bottom. Talent and blood. White lines vectored across the blade, separating it into a few hundred segments, as if the blade was going to burst apart at any second. Kamado Nezuko, the Flower Tsuguko.

"You like her," Aoi said.

Zenitsu blushed and a smile flickered onto his face. Then it was gone. "I do," he replied.

"Why… why don't you court her?" Aoi asked. "All that time buttering her up when she was stuck in that box. Chashing her around when she couldn't understand you. She's human now, but you're staying away."

Zenitsu said nothing for a while, still watching as Nezuko slowly disappeared around the bend. "Look at her," he said finally. "Look at how hard she's training. Her brother, who spent the last few years fighting with his life to save hers was just lost. She's focused on doing the same. What kind of… person would I be? If I went up to her now? To act the way I do? What kind of… friend to Tanjirou?

Besides. Slayer training is difficult. I would just be a distraction to her progress."

Aoi smiled. "You were always a perverted bastard, Zenitsu," she said, lightly tapping the Thunder Breather on the arm. "Your bastard status wouldn't just start now, you know?" Zenitsu took the joke in kind order and turned around to open the double sliding doors. "You're a good person, too," she added after a moment's pause. "You are. Being here? Protecting Oyakata-sama. Not going after Nezuko.

That right there. That's brave. That's strength. And then, even after being injured, you stood up to Muzan himself. I… I didn't even go to the castle. I stayed behind as Kocho-sama died. If anything, I'm the-"

"No!" Zenitsu rounded on Aoi. "You're not. You too-"

"If you can't call me a coward, you can't call yourself one either. And with that weird rogue Demon, Yushiro, having friends and having allies is a strength. It speaks to the strength of the heart."

Aoi stared resolutely at Zenitsu. "I... Thanks, Kanzaki-san… Inosuke's lucky, huh? You're really cute."

Now it was Aoi's turn to blush as she put her hands on her hip and looked away haughtily. Zenitsu entered the building and closed the door behind her. Slowly, she lowered her arms and dropped the faint grin that leaked onto her face. "Yeah. Thanks."

What happened to carrying all my emotions, Tanjirou? Aoi wiped the tears that threatened to pool out of her eyes away and retreated.

"Oyakata-sama, I have your dinner."

Zenitsu walked into a dimly lit room, the faint echo of clanging metal reverberating throughout the building. It was stuffy in here, with residual heat from makeshift forges permeating the entire mansion. Paper and scrolls were strewn everywhere as high-ranking Kakushi helped manage and record ideas, messages, and information. Next to Kiriya were Urokodaki Sakonji and Rengoku Shinjuro, tightly murmuring over parchment. Giyuu and Sanemi were standing in opposite corners. The Water Hashira had his sword attached to his right side, a travesty in Samurai culture. But Giyuu was no Samurai. "Oyakata-sama, it's time to eat," Shinjuro said lightly.

"I-, no, I, right. Food. Yes, I must keep myself running. Thank you, Zenitsu," Kiriya said. He put down his brush as Shinjuro cleared away the scrolls. "The Emperor of Japan hasn't held true power in centuries, Zenitsu."

Zenitsu placed down the tray of food and knelt down. "I-?"

"But the monarchy still holds some level of influence and control over sovereignty. Our democracy coexists with the lineage of royalty. The Emperor's influence extends to the people as well."

"Oyakata-sama, I don't understand."

"Yes, you're right, Zenitsu, sorry. I'm just… we need to talk to the government. We're not officially recognized as an organization, as you know, but we have had dealings with the Imperial government before. They must know hints of our existence and our enemy. The archival records even indicate that we had direct dealings with Go-Nara-tenno after we saved Fukō-hime. But think about it. If you were never truly exposed to this life, and your position was that of the Imperial House of Japan, would you take it so kindly?"

Zenitsu was silent as he processed this information. He was still thinking as Kiriya tried to make Shinjuro and Sakonji take leave to eat and rest as well, to no avail. "Oyakata-sama, why must we hail the government? We have been doing fine for so long, even after the disasters following the Sengoku period."

"Times are different, boy," Shinjuro answered. Zenisu's gaze snapped toward him and he gulped. "All this modernization makes secrecy increasingly more difficult. Your… mission on the Mugen Train was a showcase of this, was it not? I believe that… the Kamado boy and the boar were unfamiliar with such technology. And our prior cullings have never been to this extent. The entire Demon Slayer Corps was deployed. Not a single man made it out unharmed in some way. In eras past, our Hashira always managed to pull through.

Now? We have three to rely on, two of whom are crippled, and our only weapon that was guaranteed to work against them no longer has that capability. We do not have the capacity to recruit and continue our mission… without going public." Zenitsu glanced at Giyuu, who had clenched his fist. "Believe me, boy. I did not want this either. But I relent that we have no choice."

"Simply, we have never faced something like this," Sakonjij added. "Morale has never been lower."

"You… never expected us to be destroyed?" Zenitsu asked, surprise tinting his voice.

Sakonji looked away. "We never expected one of our own to become the Demon King and conquer the sun." It was hard to tell his expression underneath the goblin mask.

"Oh," was all Zenitsu could manage.

"Our contingencies allow us to rally, Zenitsu," Kiriya said. "We must do more than that now. Thank you for bringing this. You may leave."

"Listen… Can you check on my son?" Shinjuro asked. "He wanted to participate in the Hashira training, but, he can't use Breathing Techniques, so I barred him from it. I don't want him doing anything drastic… and I need to stay here."

"Y-yeah, of course, Ren… Rengoku-san," Zentisu replied.

Zenitsu got up and bowed respectfully to the Master and the two seniors and made his way out of the complex. Shinjuro didn't tell him where Senjuro was and Zenitsu didn't ask. The Thunder Breather had a guess as to where the scion of the Flame Hashira would be. He supposed it would have been embarrassing if he was wrong but then he could have always searched for him. The headquarters complex had a giant gravel yard with dummies, but no one used them. With the recall of Demon Slayers, so too did the many cultivators return. As such, the Slayers trained by sparring with each other or grouped with a cultivator that matched their Breath type. Zenitsu heard him before he saw him, listening to Senjuro's panting exertion and guttural cries. He approached Kyojuro's little brother.

"Senju-" Zentisu said before trailing off.

Blood dripped down Senjuro's hands, spattering onto the gravel below. A trail of bloody droplets dotted the many dummies. Senjuro's head was matted with sweat. He was panting with exhaustion, the training sword in his hand shaking as he struggled to grip it properly. "Hah!" the boy screamed, raising the sword and bringing it down. "Hah!" he screamed as he prepared to do it again.

Zenitsu's hand shot out as Senjuro raised the sword, grabbing his arm firmly. "Shinjuro-kun. What are you doing? Stop!"

Senjuro paused, breathing heavily, before ripping his arms away from Zenitsu's grasp. Zenitsu flinched. "What does it look like, Zenitsu-san? I'm training."

"There- There's a limit to the amount of effort that you should put into a task. Look at your hands! They must hurt-"

"Everyone else has wounds. It wasn't entirely unusual for me to see my brother come back with blood. Everyone's hurting. It doesn't matter if I am as well."

"Look-" Zenitsu started and then stopped. He didn't have experience with these things. "Look… Look. If you continue, you'll ruin your hands to the point where trying to hold a sword would actually be impossible, and then where would you be, right? So, so just stop for now and then-"

"Stop?" Senjuro whirled around to face Zenitsu, who took a step back. "We don't have time to stop, Zenitsu-san! We have never had less time to do anything before!"

Zenitsu didn't say anything. He still didn't react as Senjuro raised his sword once more. He had never thought that he would see this kind of behavior from such a shy and gentle child. He couldn't help but think Tanjirou would know what to do and know what to say. Zenitsu only watched as Senjuro swung the sword. This time, however, the sword wobbled through the air and flew out of his grasp. The brief pause in momentum had caused him to lose all strength. "Rgahhhhh!" he shrieked and fell to his knees, his hands, bleeding, resting on both legs.

"Sen-"

"Why did he do it?" Senjuro blurted out. Zenitsu stilled. "Why did he go and do that, Zenitsu-san?"

"Who?" Zenitsu whispered though he knew the answer.

"Why did Tanjirou go and betray Kyojuro Onii-san's memory? Why did he become a Demon? After all they've done?" Tears streamed down his face. "After everyone they've taken.

"I- I don't think that it was a choice, Senjuro. It was Muzan's blood, you know. Tanjirou would never choose to-"

"He should have died before he gave in!" Senjuro shouted, interrupting Zenitsu.

Zenitsu's eyes widened in shock as Senjuro's hand flew to his mouth in horror. Silence. "Is- is this why you're training?" Zenitsu asked slowly. "You're training- you want to- to kill Tanjurou?"

"I-" Senjuro was calmer now, the shock of having said something like that blowing apart his anger. "I… His sister. That girl. She has a Nichirin Sword." Zenitsu waited patiently for him to continue. "She spent the last few years as a Demon, right? You traveled with them. She never trained with a sword, did she?

And yet, the moment she picked hers up, it changed color. Her Color Changing Sword changed colors. Why doesn't my Color Changing Sword change colors? What does she have that I don't? She had no training! Is it blood? I have blood! The Rengoku bloodline has been Hashira since there were Hashira! Just because of some… Sun Breathing in her ancestry!

I! I!"

Senjuro's head collapsed to the ground and he began crying. Hesitantly, Zenitsu inched forward and knelt down, awkwardly placing one hand on Senjuro's back. "I-" I thought you gave up on following your brother's footsteps. I thought you accepted your powerlessness. "You know that Rengoku-san would have never cared that you-"

"But I can't forgive myself, Zenitsu-san!"

They held there for a while as Senjjuro continued to cry. The sun set further and the darkness of twilight began to reign. Long shadows pulled forward from the dummies, casting the duo in darkness. Zentisu's other hand was placed firmly on his sword. The sun was no longer their ally but the darkness never was. Senjuro had stopped crying but was still curled up. "She has his tsuba now," Senjuro said suddenly, his voice croaking from exhaustion and tearing. "I… I guess… I don't know…"

'Caw!' Zenitsu looked up. A Kasugai Crow circled the air. "Attention! Attention! Rengoku Shinjuro-sama and Urokodaki Sakoji-sama have been reinstated as Hashira! Rengoku Shinjuro-sama and Urokodaki Sakoji-sama have been reinstated as Hashira!"

"... You can tell Father I'm alright," Senjuro said quietly. "He told you to check on me, right? I'm fine. Sorry. I'm sorry. I'm fine."

"Um. Nezuko-chan, Inosuke, and I will be having dinner. Would you like to come?"

Senjuro was silent for a while. "I, yes, I, I'm sorry. I'll come."

Zenitsu nodded and stood up. He picked up the metal practice sword that Senjuro was using and sheathed it on Senjuro's hip. He wrapped an arm around the boy and helped lift him to his feet. Together, they shuffled over to a building that was allocated to the trio, passing countless Slayers, each in a state of fatigue and soreness. The doors were open and the faint sweetness of rice wafted into their noses. "Welcome back, Agatsuma-san." It was Kanao. "What has happened to Rengoku next to you?"

"Tsuyuri-san? What are you doing here? I thought you had to be with Oyakata-sama."

"Yes," Kanao replied, reaching down to help lift Senjuro up the platform and into the house. "But with the reinstatement of Rengoku-san and Urokodaki-san, my presence is not a necessity… Oyakata-sama dismissed me. So I came here."

"There you are, Monichi! Ho ho hoho! And a Rengoku brat! Looks like you're late! I was here first! That means I get more food!"

Zenitsu smiled lightly at Inosuke's antics. "Kanzaki-san. You sure have a handful to deal with."

Aoi walked up after placing a tray of food in front of Inosuke, who, after releasing loud gruffs of pleasure, took off his boar head and began scarfing down the food. "Never mind that. Let me see the kid."

Aoi grabbed Senjuro and pulled him into the room. Zentisu closed one of the doors. "Hello, Nezuko-chan," he said, not meeting her eyes.

"Zenitsu-san," Nezuko returned.

"Senjuro, you idiot!" Aoi yelled. "Look at the state of your hands! Do you think Rengoku-sama would have wanted to see you like this? You boys can be so idiotic at times!"

"Ah?" Senjuro let out as he was dragged by the ear into another room.

"You guys start eating. I'm going to clean up his hands."

With that, Aoi shut the door. Shrugging, the rest did as they were told and began eating. Conversation was minimal and was mostly relegated to praising the quality of the food. Zenitsu preferred to stare at the red sky. His face started to blush as he felt Nezuko's stare on him. It wasn't long until Senjuro had come back, his hands bandaged, wearing a fresh outfit. Zenitsu took this opportunity to distract himself. "How are you feeling?" Zenitsu asked.

Senjuro's gaze was glued firmly on the fiery tsuba at Nezuko's side. "Better," he said. "I guess I really didn't know how far I was going."

"Did you thank the Hashira, Senjuro-kun?"

"I, I did, Zenitsu-san," Senjuro said, looking down in embarrassment.

"Ah, stop bothering the boy," Aoi remarked as she sat down to start eating. "Everyone's on edge right now. Letting off a little steam is no matter."

The five ate leisurely, or for Inosuke, as leisurely as it was not to finish in an instant. The atmosphere could not be placed down in a word. This was the first time that the five of them had been together as a group, much less having a meal. Kanao had been emotionally blunted. Senjuro was more of a stranger than Kanao was. Nezuko had spent years as a Demon. Zenitsu was the self-imposed playboy coward. And Inosuke, well, he was as he always was. As such, their relaxation was offset by the tenseness of the situation as a whole and the insincerity between them.

Still, it was pleasant, and the meal continued until the sun had set and the moon had risen. Conversations were still curt but they served to help each person feel part of the group. No matter their past circumstances, their shared experiences were a bond that was hard to break. Nezuko, just as she tended to stare at Zenitsu, finally could not contain her question about Senjuro's stare at her. "Rengoku-kun, do you have a problem?" Nezuko asked.

"N- no. Sorry."

Zenitsu glanced between the two. "Is it the tsuba?" Nezuko supplied. "Do you want it back? Is that it?"

Senjuro's eyes flashed and he looked down. "No, it's yours. Kyojuro Onii-san gave it to… to him. And it was passed on. It's not mine to claim. Not anymore."

"Oh, thank you…I- This thing carries the memories of two now." Nezuko trailed off. They had reached the elephant in the room. Tanjirou. "Perhaps… When we meet him again… Will I… will we have the will to fight him? To… kill him?"

Inosuke paused from inhaling rice to speak. "We won't be fighting Tanjirou," he claimed.

"You think we can save him, Inosuke? You truly think so?" Nezuko's voice was full of hope. Clearly, she did not want to fight Tanjirou, but neither did she want these others to as well.

"What are you talking about, Underling Komodo Monpuzu?"

Nezuko swallowed. "Why don't you have to fight him?"

"He must mean that we can talk him to take another cure. Or to try to fight it. He's Tanjirou after all. He's stronger than any of us. That is what he means." Kanao nodded confidently.

"No," Inosuke said. "Idiots."

Kanao frowned. "What are you talking about then?"

Inosuke scoffed. "Because he's already dead, isn't he?" Insokue said, with no hint of the barbaric and wild scruff that was signature of him in his voice. "How are we supposed to kill something that's already dead?"

Inosuke continued to eat, with Aoi solemnly placing her own bowl of food in front of him, having lost her appetite. Nezuko stared off into the distance. Senjuro picked at his food. Kanao turned away, shedding silent tears. Zenitsu closed his eyes underneath the light of the midnight moon. What are you doing, Tanjirou?

Tanjirou stopped in his tracks as his eyes widened in the direction of the village. Underneath the light of the midnight moon, his blackened silhouette seemed to get darker. He was halfway back from the bandit cave, guiding his entourage of Demon Moons and the haggle of survivors that chose to remain with them. The scent of blood to the senses of those Demons there was nigh omnipresent. They did not notice the new addition to the whirlpool of aromas. Tanjirou did. This blood was fresh, human, and had originated in the village. Someone had harmed a villager. He looked back at the group, the Demon Moons showing concern and the survivors showing fear.

"Continue at this pace," he growled. "I'm going ahead."

Before the Demons could agree, Tanjirou disappeared. The forest whirled by him in an instant. Each step launched him forward to a degree that would never be touched by others. The world blurred to an imperceptible level and yet Tanjirou's eyes saw every single detail on every single leaf on every single tree he passed. It was not long at all until the village came into view and he landed quietly, sliding across the dirt. The Demons instantly felt his presence and knelt. All except one, who was currently being knelt upon by two others. Tanjirou instantly focused on him. "Masaharu, Masao, stand him up," he ordered as he thudded up, and the two Demons moved.

The Demon King grabbed the dissenter by the scruff and pulled him in. There was a furious blaze in his eyes that threatened to consume everything like magma from a volcano. No, that wasn't quite right; it could more accurately be described as if the sun itself had descended down to Earth. The Demons in the area shuddered, barely able to keep their composure. The villagers, however, were more confused than anything else, unable to sense the erupting anger from Tanjirou. The Demons, though they had only been with their King for a short amount of time, felt serenity through their bond. A kind, if not distant, warmth. That was all but absent here. Tanjirou stared past the Demon in his grasp to look at the gutted body of a woman.

She gurgled. Realizing that she was still alive, Tanjirou shoved the renegade toward Masaharu and Masao and walked over to the dying woman, the anger he held dissipating. He pressed his hand to hers. "I'm sorry," he said. The woman's unfocused eyes trailed over to find the voice. "This was unjust. I can't take it back. But I can give you my blood." He adjusted his sleeve and hovered his left wrist over the woman's mouth.

"I can turn you into a Demon. If you become a Demon, all of your injuries would heal in an instant."

The woman blinked slowly as her eyes cleared. She made an effort to swallow her own blood that was pooled in her throat in order to answer but gave up after failing over and over. Her efforts made her cough and a spout of mist funneled into the air. Closing her eyes, she turned away her head. Tanjirou's eyes widened. "I see. I'm sorry. I would have respected your choice. I'll grant you a quick death.

It's the least I can do for you. Your family. Do you have any?"

The woman opened her eyes again, blinking as her vision faded. Her left hand twitched and jerked as she raised it and pointed a finger at a sobbing man in the crowd. "F- fav-"

"Father?" Tanjirou asked. The woman's arm fell. "I see." He placed a hand on her neck. Closing his own eyes, Tanjirou pushed her eyelids closed and snapped her neck with a resounding crack. When he opened them again, the fire had returned. "Ritsu," Tanjirou growled.

Tanjirou slowly stood up and turned to face the Demon in question. The red scar that had been situated at the corner of Tanjirou's head had spread, reaching the top of his eyes. The mark also appeared on the opposite side of his forehead and chin. "I-" Ritsu began.

"Why?" And Ritsu felt the sharp point of a blade at his neck. A shockwave of dust erupted into the air with Tanjirou at the center. Windows shattered and humans and Demons alike cowered in the face of his protruding veins. There was heat and Ritsu's blood rushed as if boiling. He couldn't move and his words choked. "Why did you do it?" Tanjirou asked. His voice was barely above a whisper. His gait was slow. "That mindless pointless killing. Do you even feel remorse for what you've done?"

"I- I mean- Of- of c-"

"Truthfully."

Ritsu's blood pulsed and he swallowed as the concept of truth eradicated all potential of lying. "No. I don't."

Tanjirou stopped in front of Ritsu. "No remorse. Why did you do it?"

"Because I was hungry." The words barreled out of his mouth. He could not control his tongue. "I'm a Demon. You gave me this power, this station of superiority. It was my right- Ah-!"

Ritsu froze as Tanjirou propped a hand on his head and brought their foreheads to touch. 'You're a Demon. Demons kill because we feel the urge to consume. I could have forgiven you for a break in composure. For giving into the instinct. But you. You're remorseless. You didn't care that you killed a human. You didn't care that you broke my rules.

No respect. Farmers kill cattle for food. But they respect their craft and they respect the animals they raise. That tyranny… of gleeful slaughter… I won't allow…"

"But we're superior!" Ritsu yelled pleadingly. "You are the one who said this! We're perfect! We're above them! What is wrong with what I did? When did you say we couldn't eat or kill?"

"Do you know what it means to be superior, Ritsu?" His voice was louder now, his mind wandering off to find the figure of a fiery man. There he was, his haori fluttering, but Tanjirou couldn't seem to reach. He frowned. Oh well. "It means to use that power to the benefit of others. To use strength for nobility. You were once human, Ritsu. Not so long ago.

Not even yesterday. Remember what I said? That we are all human? What is the term 'Demon' but a classification of humanity?"

"You said some would have to be sacrificed," Ritsu argued.

"I did. That was not a sacrifice." By now, Tanjirou's voice had calmed down and the mark had returned to that scar. The pressure of his voice was no longer overwhelming, but simply there, ever-present on their shoulders.

It's only a distinction, Ritsu thought. You're the one placing arbitrary value on something like that. Isn't it even worse that you're thinking of them as actual people instead of cattle?

"Yes. Only a distinction. But it's one that I get to make. A value that I decide. And a burden that I carry. It seems you aren't satisfied with the system that I have created, Ritsu."

Ritsu's eyes widened. "N-no!"

Those who fail you need to die. You cannot allow something like this to fester among your ranks. Weakness. Incompetence. Make an example of him. "Hm," Tanjirou intoned.

He stepped back and slowly drew his katana and brought the blade to bear. The tip winked under the moonlight. Ritsu screamed and threw away his two holders in an explosion of blood. "How unfortunate. To awaken an ability but not be able to use it." Kiyo, the Eighth Demon Moon, prepared to intercept when Tanjirou spoke. "No," he ordered. "I will do this myself."

Kiyo retreated. Ritsu had made it to the edge of the village when he saw a grotesque monster made of flesh and eyes explode from the ground and swallow him whole. He shrieked. When he opened his eyes, there was no monster. He had seen nothing and fell to his knees. "Turn around," Tanjirou commanded, and Ritsu, to his shock and horror, felt himself doing so. "Walk over to me."

Step by step, Ritsu waddled over to where he knew was his death. His legs would not stop. Step. Step. His arms swayed aimlessly. Tears burst from his eyes as he pleaded for forgiveness and mercy. At the moment, he looked like anything other than a Demon. At that very moment, he looked very, very human. "Mercy, Master!

I'm sorry, I'm so very, truly sorry! I didn't mean to run! I didn't mean to kill her or break your rules! I was just scared! I- I- If you give me another chance, I'll surely correct my mistake!"

"Do you think you're in a position to ask for another chance when you admitted to your lack of regret? After you tried to escape me?"

"I was only confused! You didn't make your intentions clear!"

"Are you saying it's my fault?"

"N- No! That's not- You misunderstand!"

I misunderstood nothing. "I misunderstood nothing. Your inability to comprehend my words is solely a fault of yourself. It is neither my problem nor an excuse for you to act out of line." I am never mistaken. I am the one who calls the shots. "I am never mistaken. I am the one who calls the shots. Whether someone is food or friend, I get to say, in the absolute, not you."

Ritsu walked past Tanjirou, his eyes bulging, and knelt facing the crowd. "Please," he tried once last time.

"Present your neck." Ritsu lowered his head. "I am never wrong." Tanjirou leaned in for a whisper. "And even if I was… does that somehow make your actions… okay?"

"Ah~~"

"After you killed someone, you tried to refute me. You deserve to die."

The sword swung and it was over. Ritsu's lifeless body toppled over and began evaporating instantaneously. The deed done, Tanjirou resheathed his sword and faced the crowd, who had been mostly silent for the majority of the situation, with a bow. "I'm sorry," he told them. "The callousness of my subordinate has caused the loss of one of our own."

Reizen, seeing this act, blinked. "Bow!" he said, and the rest of the Demons bowed. He couldn't stand to see their King being the one to lower himself, much less to the unevolved, especially alone.

"I will grant her a fire burial. Leaving her like this out in the open is unsightly. I have to apologize on not giving you the chance to take care of her body yourself." Tanjirou straightened. "Oda Sakura has been rescued. Those mountain ruffians will no longer be a threat or a bother. The villagers that have been taken from here and others that have chosen to stay in the group are on their way now. When they get back, I will ask you to make your decisions."

Tanjirou walked over to the woman's body and placed a hand on her head. Rolling waves of electric crimson flames erupted from his fingertips, burning jet black on her body and rising to azure blue licks. As the fire raged, Tanjirou clasped his hands together. By the time a Demon had arrived with an urn, by a command sent through his mind, the body was ash. Tanjirou gathered the ashes, noting that there weren't any bone fragments, and walked over to the deceased's father. He was still crying, hugging what appeared to be his son-in-law and a single granddaughter. Tanjirou presented her family with her remains. The father accepted it numbly for to say that it was proper was to be wrong, but to say that the process was wrong was incorrect. The gesture felt genuine but empty, and yet it was his daughter's ashes in that urn either way.

With that being done, Tanjirou walked over to the edge of the forest and waited. The villagers murmured among themselves, arguing the pros and cons, the validity of his case, and the sincerity of his actions. He blocked the noise out, not wanting to hear their decisions before he asked them. Tanjirou glanced to his right as Reizen walked up. "Kamado-Heika." He bowed.

"Reizen. What do you need?"

Reizen licked his lips. "You can read minds," he said after a moment, rising from his bow.

"Hm. I can."

"Everyone's?"

"My Demons'. Of those I chose. Does your mind need reading, Reizen? Have you hidden and treacherous thoughts that I need to examine as well?"

"No, of course not, your Majesty. I was merely… surprised at this display. I had not thought that your abilities stretched to that level."

"Hm," Tanjirou uttered. "Muzan-sama left me with a tremendous gift that I have yet to explore the ends of…"

"And with our bond, you can disable our regeneration. That is how you killed Ritsu."

"Yes and no. I can disable your regeneration. But for me, it's automatically negated. It's not disabling it as it is unaffected by it."

"That is how we were able to kill each other in the forest. It felt strange afterward, as if a blanket we were deprived of was suddenly returned."

"You're quite smart, Reizen."

"It's all thanks to you, your Majesty. Your wisdom and strength make even gods cower." Reizen said.

"No."

"I- Your Majesty-"

"You misunderstand me, Reizen. I meant to say that there are no gods. For a thousand years did Muzan-sama exist and for a thousand years did people pray for his destruction. No heavenly envoy and no thunderbolt came to strike him now. Even Yoriichi failed to destroy him in the end." I. "I spoke to a priest once. A priest of the religion of Christianity. Muzan-sama read their books.

They say that their god is merciful. And yet, when he held that priest's head in his hand, their god did not come to save him. They call him Almighty. The world is run by many confusing but ultimately comprehensible natural laws, Reizen. Not on the word of some invisible deity whose ever-changing words are uttered by power-hungry fools to the hopeless masses who know no better. There are no gods. I am not god-like. No, I will be Emperor of the world and they will see that as the highest power. My abilities will not shake the Heavens, but they will shake the Earth.

But I do hope that I won't have to use my abilities. Because if they fight me, they'll surely die."

Reizen nodded, taking in each and every word that Tanjirou said. With the certainty and scale of which he talked, Reizen would have followed him even if he was not a Demon. "Your Majesty is talking about the Demon Slayer Corps?"

"Yes. I have hope that that man's son, that crazy man, will have the intelligence to disband the Slayer Corps. But knowing him, knowing his family and the will, but also the reckless naivety they possess, they'll continue to fight me. I will do my best to hold on going against them. It would otherwise be too much of a burden to place upon the shoulders of such a young child."

"The Master of this organization is but a child, Master?" Reizen asked, surprised.

"Unevolved Humans die so young. Those fighting for the Corps die even younger, as is the nature of their mission. Opposing a force they cannot possibly overcome, but it's their spirit that we must keep."

Reizen looked toward the ground and blinked as he pondered what he was told. "So to spare your friends the cruelty of death, you would ignore the Demon Slayer Corps. But, would that not give them time or a chance to rally and regroup? That would be a threat."

Tanjirou gave Reizen a sad smile. "How will they rally? There aren't that many of them left and recruiting in the shadows will be that much harder… now that there aren't those being hunted by Demons. Vengeance, Reizen, is a powerful tool that they can no longer utilize in their message. Besides, they no longer have anything that can harm us."

"I understand. And the abilities that Ritsu demonstrated."

"Some of you will awaken your own Blood Demon Art, yes. But that will all depend on you. Everyone will have their own way."

"Blood Demon Art. Is it anything like the sword skills that you possess? As well as Chiyo and Riko?"

"You have a lot of questions, don't you, Reizen?" There was no malice in this notice.

"Of course, Master. This is all new and I must have abundant information to properly serve as your advisor in all things."

"I forget that people are not used to the life that I lived. No, Breathing Techniques are an invention of the Demon Slayer Corps. Demons cannot use them unless they possessed the knowledge and techniques before… Although, I suppose there is a possibility that might have changed. We shall see."

"I see." Reizen perked up. "They are returning."

"Yes." The pair stood there for a few minutes longer when they first stepped out. "Lady Gurenge," Tanjirou called out.

"Your Majesty," Koharu replied, kneeling. "We have returned…"

"Speak," Tanjirou offered.

"You left in a hurry, Master. There was no trouble, I hope?"

"Some unsavory business that I took care of. There is no trouble, Lady Gurenge. Take them to the rest of the villagers. I will talk to them shorty."

"Yes, your Majesty." Koharu stood up and motioned for the group to emerge from the shadows.

Each hesitantly stepped out of the forest, scarcely touching the ground when they passed Tanjirou. "What do you think, Reizen?"

"Of what, Master?"

"Of their choice. Or rather what choice they might make."

"Your Majesty was not listening to their discussions?"

"No. But I have a general idea, you see. The reunion with lost family members will assure them of my generosity. Sentimentality will sway them over to the side of happiness. The fire burial will show them my kindness. Ritsu's execution showcased my ruthlessness. All of it displayed my power. They'll agree. They'll want the power for themselves.

Or, even if they don't care for longevity or power, they'll not trust me enough to accept my offer of leaving. They'll take it because they'll believe it to be the best option. And not one, but two of their children have accepted my gift. The prisoners will relay the tale of her acceptance. The story will compound with what the villagers saw of Kiyoshi. This will go as expected. Now come."

The Demons quieted the crowd, who by that point was exhausted with all that had happened. They had been on edge for hours, riding a roller coaster of emotions. "Everyone," Tanjirou began. "Now that the captives have been rescued and everyone is reunited, I will need you to make your final decision. Those that do not want my gift can choose to leave. You can even stay if you do not want to abandon your home. You will not be hunted. Those that want my blood. Stay."

The Demon King's eyes scanned the crowd. A few people looked around but ultimately no one moved. Tanjirou turned to Reizen and gave him a smile.

I hate myself more than anyone. I always think I have to get my act together, but I end up cowering, running away, sniveling. I want to change. I want to be a competent person.

[Breath of Flames - Seventh Form: Retreating Flame]

Zenitsu woke up to the sound of swords just as he had fallen asleep last night to the sound of swords. He recognized the sound of Senjuro's breathing and his voice. Blinking away the weariness, the Thunder Breather got out of his futon and looked outside. Seeing that it was Senjuro, Zenitsu sighed and looked around the room. It was empty. Zenitsu had slept in his uniform. He tried, and failed, to straighten the wrinkles and threw on his haori, which he picked up from the blanket. I'm the last one up, he thought. "Senjuro," Zenitsu called out in greeting.

"Good morning, Zenitsu-san," Senjuro replied without looking at him. "Did I wake you up?"

"No, no, it was about time that… huh… That I got up anyway."

Senjuro nodded.

[Breath of Flames - First Form: Unknowing Fire]

Zenitsu's eyes widened as Senjuro dashed forward and swung his sword. A sprout of flame threw itself from the blade, trailing away into nothingness just as quickly as it came. As the flames faded away, Senjuro tripped, falling face-first onto the ground. "Senjuro, your hands have barely healed," Zenitsu warned. "You're trying Breathing Techniques when your sword hasn't even changed colors yet-"

Zenitsu stopped, feeling as though he was putting Senjuro's efforts down. He scolded himself, remembering all the times he ran away from his teacher, the old man who took him in and who gave Zenitsu everything. I don't have the right to tell someone to stop when I never told myself to really start… "My sword is blank, Zenitsu-san," Senjuro acknowledged as he picked himself up from the ground. "And I don't have any talent. But I still have a sword. I can still fight. Every body counts."

Every… body. "Well, just remember to rest. You cannot grow if you don't rest."

Senjuro fell backward onto his rear. He looked up, panting. "I don't think… That I can go on anyway, Zenitsu-san."

"That's uh," Good? Once again, Zenitsu felt a pang in his heart and he wished Tanjirou was here instead. If nothing else, not his Breathing Techniques and strength, Tanjirou left a void in the Heart of the Demon Slayer Corps. From Kakushi to Hashira, the red-haired charcoal seller had touched everyone. He knew how to interact with people, when to get angry, and when to be kind. Morale was not at its lowest because the Demon King still existed, it was down because their ray of light became that Demon King. Zenitsu replayed his time in the Corps. What connections have I built that wasn't through Tanjirou? Have I… talked to anyone that wasn't a girl I was trying to get with?

"Zenitsu!"

It was less relief and more contrite when the Thunder Breather took the chance to look away. Senjuro gave an unseen smile. "Ah! Oyakata-sama!"

"Wha-?"

Senjuro quickly turned himself around and positioned himself to a kneeling position. "Oyakata-sama," he greeted, still out of breath.

"Senjuro."

"Son."

Senjuro looked up in surprise, seeing his father. He choked. Memories of an even earlier childhood flashed before him. Rengoku Shinjuro was wearing a white haori with a white-yellow gradient pattern going down to a flame-like hem. The Flame Hashira haori. "Father," Senjuro whispered.

Senjuro remembered when his father was happy, proudly proclaiming to his sons his belief in their ability. He remembered the times when Shinjuro was the one wearing the haori. A hot flash of grief struck Senjuro, both from the memories of a better time and from the scar of his brother's death. His father's figure overlapped with that of Kyojuro. Shinjuro stared down at his remaining son's hands. Freshly opened cuts made the gauze red. The father's constant frown furrowed even deeper as he looked away. Senjuro took this as a sign of shame and turned his eyes downcast. He remembered his father's lessons.

The talentless should know their place. His hands tightened into fists. He listened to Shinjuro clear his throat. "I think… that perhaps… your brother would be proud."

Stunned, Senjuro's head snapped up, not able to catch his father's gaze. Kiriya glanced between father and son, tightening his jaw to stop himself from remembering his own father. "Zenitsu, come. We must go. Senjuro… Good luck. Your contributions to the Corps will not be wasted."

"Yes, Oyakata-sama," Senjuro said, bowing. "I pray for your good health on your journey."

The group turned away. A few steps in, Shinjuro stopped, letting out a breath. He muttered something that Zenitsu couldn't make out. The Flame Hashira turned around, hesitant at first, but with his first step, his body became resolute. Zenitsu watched as he walked over to his son and stop in front of him. Senjuro did not get up from his bow as his father's shadow reigned over him. Slowly, Shinjuro placed a hand on Senjuro's head and held it there. When he left, Senjuro's body rocked as he cried silent tears. Shinjuro's eyes might have glistened as well.

"Oyakata-sama," Zenitsu said. "Where are we going?"

He looked at the group. Kanao, Sakonji, Shinjuro, and himself. He felt out of place among the Hashira. "As I told you last evening, we have planned to talk to key figures in the government of our country."

"Yes, I remember, Oyakata-sama."

"The Emperor is… mentally indisposed. The role of the Emperor of Japan is already one built upon shaky boundaries. The already symbolic role holds even less power thanks to his… disability. We need to go see his son, the regent, and establish contact so that we may plan this going forward."

"We're going to see the Prince Hirohito?"

"Yes. Hirohito is the representative of the Royal Family and holds military sway. We were able to discover his location. Through him, we can talk to the Prime Minister. However, Takashi Hara is a Christian. Our fundamental principles of belief will either mesh together smoothly or clash. As for me, I am young. They will need someone like Sakonji and Shinjuro there to balance out the scale of authority. Kanao and you are there to provide additional support."

Zenitsu nodded. Still, he felt perturbed. "Why not take more Slayers? The other Hashira are busy but there are many other Slayers who can protect you."

"Boy, we're meeting, unscheduled, with a member of national royalty to discuss the publicity of a war waged in the shadows for a thousand years. Do you think bringing a large contingent of sword-wielding members of a rogue warrior organization will be taken kindly to?"

Zenitsu's face flushed red as Kanao shook her head. "Then why take me? Why not Giyuu-san or the Wind Hashira?"

"We're moving, Zenitsu. We have to do it now or else it might be too late in the future."

"Moving? To the volcano?"

"Yes. It's a gamble. Tanjirou may notice something, but we have to trust that he is focused elsewhere. But their journey will take days, perhaps a few weeks. Even more, the Slayers and Kakushi assigned to bring the eternity of our current ore deposit on Mount Yoko will take even longer. All of this is compounded on the reliance of their secrecy. Even on the brink of our meeting with Hirohito, we must remain hidden. Either way, nothing is guaranteed. My sisters, Giyuu, Sanemi, and Nezuko will guide the Slayer Corps, the Kakushi, and the Blacksmiths while we try to foster a relationship… with the Empire of Japan."

Tanjirou stared wide-eyed at the squirming creature in front of him. It didn't cry, but instead held his stare, reaching out with tiny grasping fists. The line for Demonification had thinned. A large majority of the villagers had already been turned, and the ones who had more volatile reactions caused a small portion of the remaining people to change their minds. There was no problem with any of that. The problem lay in front of him. Unblinking, Tanjirou's hand flashed out and grabbed the thing. With a cry, a newly Demonized woman threw herself at Tanjirou, only to be pinned down by members of Reizen's entourage. Still, even they looked confused and worried at their King's actions.

"What," Tanjirou began, holding it out in front of him. "Is this?"

The moon had fallen to a sharp angle though dawn was still hours away. Shadows elongated under the orb's changing gaze. Torches, this village had no electricity or gas, flickered in the breeze. "Ah, a baby, your Majesty?" Reizen answered.

"Why?"

"I don't- I'm not sure I understand, your Majesty."

"This isn't right. Demons do not have children. It's unfamiliar."

"Are you- Are you going to destroy him?"

"It was not supposed to be born."

"Wait!" the mother yelled, trashing below him. "Please! He hasn't done anything! Why should he die?"

Tanjirou moved his stare to the woman. "You. How did you do this? No, I see. You must have been pregnant beforehand. The Demonification… accelerated your pregnancy…" His fist began to tighten as he looked back at the baby. "Demonification in the womb."

At last, the baby began to cry. The mother began to cry. "Your Majesty!" Reizen cried.

Tanjirou closed his eyes. When he opened them, he placed the baby down in front of the mother. "Quarantine her and the child. Round up those still waiting in line. Do not disturb me."

With that, Tanjirou found his way to one of the empty houses and sat down. He raked a hand through his hair and closed his eyes. Change. It produces nothing but chaos. "Yes. It was… jarring to see that."

It should not exist. "But it does."

Then it must be destroyed. "Technically, it was created no differently than any other Demon. It was simply demonized at a way earlier stage. And it will grow. I can feel it. Perfection is usually static. But the whole point is to reach that level… because the world is not yet perfect. Change can be noble. And once it reaches perfection, I will make it unchangeable.

Permenization does not have to be stagnation as well."

This raises a question. "Yes. Can Demons now procreate naturally?"

You will have to test and experiment. Make sure. Let nothing be unknown to you. "Select a group of Demons to try to have children? It makes sense. I will need a doctor."

Why? Any medical knowledge you might require you already know. Not a single part or function of the body is a mystery to you. "It's unfitting for me. And indecent… If only Tamayo was still here. We could use her knowledge on blood feeding to preserve Unevolved life. Ritsu was not entirely wrong. Her medical skills will serve well in the experiments and as a midwife."

If only? "She is dead."

I learned something. Something from that man. Ubuyashiki Kagaya. Nothing truly dies should their memories and ideals remain. "We absorbed her… I have her cells in my body."

Slowly, Tanjirou raised an open hand and concentrated. His palm bubbled as cells grew and took shape. The jaw, the skull, the tongue, the muscles, the eyes, and the hair. Layer by layer, an unmistakable form of a head took form. Tamayo blinked. "Tanjirou? Did you join me in hell? Oh, no. I'm so sorry."

"You're mistaken, Tamayo. If you were truly in hell, then I have rescued you. Welcome back to the world of the living."

"What? Tanjirou, you…" It was then that Tamayo realized what she was seeing. "No… Muzan!"

"Muzan-sama is dead. I am what remains. I have need of your services, Tamayo. I need your help."

Tamayo's face settled, morphing from shock to her patented calm. "No, Tanjirou. If it's too late to fight whatever Muzan has done to you, then so be it. I will not help you. I'm sorry, but I won't."

Tanjirou became silent at Tamayo's defiant glare. "I thought we could come to an understanding, Tamayo. I'm trying to help the world survive. I need you to be our doctor and tell me how you made it so that you only needed blood."

Tamayo let out a shrill laugh. "Are you trying to be some sort of Demon saint? Good Demons don't exist. No, Tanjirou. I can't trust you, not anymore. I can't help you."

"Are you not a good Demon, Tamayo? You were a doctor and you were kind when I first met you. You helped me out and your cooperation with the Demon Slayer Corps was what got us to this point in the first place."

"If this is where my work ended up leading, I wish I had never done so in the first place."

Tanjirou breathed in and exhaled slowly. "You're disowning your generosity and kindness?"

"No. Being kind is not the same thing as being good. The sins I committed under Muzan-sama can never be forgiven. There are no good Demons."

Tanjirou's eyes flashed. He had never seen Tamayo like this, angry and feral. Though she tried to hide it, her snarls of rage could not be fully concealed. But no, he had seen this before, when Tamayo had her hands around his face, proclaiming his downfall. The potion she had made. Her glorious final moments. "What about Nezuko? Are you saying my sister was bad? Are you insulting my sister's efforts?"

Tamayo's eyes widened. "She… was never really a Demon though, was she?"

"You're resolute."

"I am."

"Then it's regrettable that I have to do this."

"Agh-" Tamayo let out a grunt. "What is this?"

Veins popped on her forehead and her eyes rolled back. "The brain is a complex piece of biological machinery. The tasks it can perform… it's truly a wonder the way nature put it all together. But the way it works, on the broad level, is actually quite simple. You escaped Muzan once before. He was weakened then by Yoriichi and you got far away from him. But I am stronger than he is and I have you right in the palm of my hand."

"Tanjirou! Not this! Don't do this!"

"I gave you a choice, Tamayo. You could have worked with me to better the world. The entire world, Tamayo, and of your own free will. You chose to disagree with me. This is the consequence of your decision." Tanjirou grit his teeth and squeezed. Tamayo let out a scream of pain. "The first one to escape me. I am correcting that mistake."

"If it's for the good of the world, why start with something this evil? This is evil, Tanjirou!"

"Do you really think so, Tamayo?" Tanjirou asked. His monotone voice had risen just the slightest in terms of pitch as if he was angry or hurt; at this point, Tamayo couldn't rule out the fact that he was simply annoyed: she could no longer read the boy. "The path to good is never so straightforward or easy. By right, I should have been nothing more than a charcoal seller. I was happy being nothing more than a tree-cutter and charcoal seller. I was happy with my family. With Nezuko. But I was dragged into this world and I was dragged into the position where I bore the responsibility to fix what was broken. Everyone I watched die and everyone who will die.

I have the power to do something about the injustices of the world. Because it is the world that is evil. I have the right, now, to grant everyone safety. Security. Justice. Perfection. You should have chosen to help. Stop resisting, Tamayo."

Tamayo's head started to absorb Tanjirou's hand. From there, the hand turned into her neck and expanded downwards. Shoulders, chest, breasts, stomach, hands, legs, and feet. Tanjirou had recreated Tamayo's body in the full. She couldn't breathe; Tanjirou's wrist was currently inside her throat and her vision became fuzzy. Behind her, she felt a presence. Muzan's head came into her view above her left shoulder, his hands grabbing around Tamayo's head. You're going to finally behave yourself now. A familiar kimono wrapped itself around her body: it was the same kimono that she wore when she was still with Muzan.

There's a good girl, and she felt her hatred dissipate. Tanjirou ripped his arm out from her throat, regenerating his hand in a flash. Tamayo, no longer being supported, fell under her own weight, eyes dazed and dull. A knock at the door before it opened. "Your Majesty."

"I thought I said to not be disturbed."

"I'm sorry, but a stranger arrived."

"I know. And why is that my problem?"

"She's a Demon, your Majesty. And she's calling for Muzan."

Tanjirou glanced left and blinked. "Ah. Nakime. No wonder she felt familiar."

"Then, I shall invite her?"

"Yes, do that, Reizen."

Reizen bowed and hesitated. "If I may, you look different."

"Oh?"

"Yes, your hair. It's no longer brushed backward. And the markings on your face. They've expanded. Are you… displeased again?"

Tanjirou reached a hand up to grab at a strand of his hair. On the right side of his face, his hair came down, flowing around his right eye. Down the middle, the hair was brushed to the left, flattened down to reach around and below his left eye. His Demon Slayer Mark was fully revealed. "No. I'm quite happy, in fact. Nakime's abilities will be useful."

"And the woman?"

"Tamayo, meet my Advisor, Reizen. Reizen, meet Lady Tamayo, my personal aid."

Reizen blinked. Tamayo lowered her head in greeting. "My name is Tamayo," she said, her voice soft. "I'm happy to help."

But, there was no one here before, Reizen thought. He thought better than to voice his questions out loud, however, and wasn't even sure that Tanjirou wasn't listening to him now. "And your relation to His Majesty?"

"I owe Master Tanjirou my life and body, and therefore my services," Tamayo replied.

"See, Reizen? Everything is in order. Now, show me to Nakime."

Full Flame Forms posted on PA:Treon.

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