My Playlist: Returning Home by Parijat

For the first time in three years, Kanemoto Izumi was going home.

Three years of grueling training and dedicated demon slaying had passed. They had been long, full of grief; but they had been full of joy and gratification as well. Ever since Izumi joined the Demon Slayer Corps three years past, she had traversed all across the country, her best friend Rengoku Kyojuro at her side—and together, they protected innocent civilians and ended the reigns of terror that the man-eating demons wrought.

Just as it had been since the beginning, so it was now: Izumi and Kyojuro side by side, on the way to visit their families and tell them the good news.

They had each slain one of the Twelve Kizuki.

They were each promoted to Hashira.

"Kanemoto Izumi, Moon Hashira," said Kyojuro, in his familiar booming voice. "I like the sound of it!"

Izumi smiled and was about to respond—but then Kyojuro slapped a powerful hand on her back, causing her to gasp and stumble slightly. Instead of scolding him for such a gesture, she scoffed and nudged him in the ribs with an elbow. "Oh? I would think that Rengoku Kyojuro, Flame Hashira, would gather your attention more-so than my own title."

He chuckled. "They are both good to hear. We have worked hard to get this far, haven't we?"

There was no arguing on that point. If Izumi were to search her memories for each mission the two of them had completed, she would've only succeeded in finding a migraine. They were countless: countless missions, countless demons, countless people that they had been both able and unable to save.

Knowing that she was expected to reply, Izumi glanced towards Kyojuro. His golden eyes were locked on the road ahead, upon the tranquil weather. She knew that he could not see it, but still she smiled as she replied, "Yes. I rather think we have."

In truth, Izumi had never expected to become a Hashira. She had always believed it of Kyojuro—he was strong, kind, stouthearted… the very stock of myth and legend. It was his aura that had drawn her to him during their Final Selection, after all: that burning red-orange haze surrounding his person, that aura only she could see. It was an aura that she had memorized so completely, she could see it flickering even behind closed eyelids.

Even then, when they were mere recruits, she had known how special he was. When she stood next to him, next to his own spark, Izumi quite believed she was dull in comparison.

"Do not doubt yourself!"

She blinked and glanced Kyojuro's way. Now he was looking at her, the slightest of downturns upon his lips. Noting that he caught her attention, he added, "You are wise, agile, compassionate. No one else in the Demon Slayer Corps can track a demon the way you can. No one else has bothered to study healing to the degree that you have. You are magnificent! Do not delude yourself otherwise."

And based on the way that his ever-constant aura shimmered and changed, effusive as the man himself, Izumi knew that he was speaking his truth.

Something shifted in her chest. "Thank you… Kyojuro…"

He grinned; a warm hand was placed upon her shoulder. "Don't mention it!"

After a few more minutes of silent yet content travel, the cobblestone road underneath their feet led them towards a beautiful house with a large courtyard. One look into the property told Izumi that they had reached the Rengoku residence—in the courtyard, swinging at a straw dummy with a wooden sword, was a young boy with the same golden color of hair and eyes as the man standing next to her.

Kyojuro waved an arm, a hapless grin upon his face. "Senjuro!"

Izumi smiled sweetly and simply watched as the boy whirled towards them. An audible gasp crossed the courtyard, and then the boy was bounding forward, his wooden sword forgotten upon the stones. Even from so far away, she could see the clouds in his eyes—Izumi was looking forward to receiving such a happy reaction from her two little siblings too, when she returned to her own house.

"You're back! You're home!" cried Senjuro. His voice was muffled due to his face being buried within Kyojuro's cloak. "I was getting worried!"

"It's all right. Everything's fine," Kyojuro replied. His ever-constant grin upon his face, he pat the top of his younger brother's head. "And I bring good news!"

Senjuro's bright eyes found Izumi. He turned back to his elder brother with a toothy grin. "You got married?"

A flush overtook Izumi's face, although Kyojuro just burst into laughter and slapped a hand on his brother's back, very similarly to how he had to Izumi herself just a few minutes prior. "No, not quite. Kanemoto Izumi and I have been promoted to Hashira of the Demon Slayer Corps!"

The boy's wide eyes grew even wider, if that were even possible. "Really? No way! That… that's so cool! You're the Flame Hashira then? Just like father?"

The mention of Kyojuro's father caused a chill to spread across their small party. Izumi did not know much about the relationships between the Rengokus, but she knew that Kyojuro did not talk about his father much if he could avoid it. She glanced towards him with concern, a sentiment that only grew upon noting the shadows lining the underside of his eyes.

"Exactly like that. Hopefully he will be pleased!" exclaimed Kyojuro, though his expression did not fully reflect his spoken words.

Izumi placed a delicate hand on his arm. "Would you prefer to go alone? Or shall I go with you?"

Kyojuro thought on the question for a long moment. His gaze flickered from his family's home, towards Senjuro, and back towards Izumi once again. And then he said, "No, it's all right. I'll go alone. It may be better that way."

Although she worried about the aftermath of Kyojuro meeting with his drunkard father, she would respect his wishes. She took a slight step back, and in her usual gentle voice, she said, "As you wish. I will be here when you are finished—although should you wish to spend time with Senjuro instead of accompany me to my own home, I would understand completely."

"Nonsense. I promised to travel with you," said Kyojuro, smiling once again. "Although I hope you will not be bothered if I stay long enough to share a cup of tea with my brother."

This last caused a smile to spread across her face, largely because Senjuro was staring at his sibling with such adoration it was melting her heart. She nodded and gestured towards the house.

Upon seeing this sign, Kyojuro took a deep breath—a breath truly worthy of Total Concentration—and rose to his feet. Over his shoulder, he called, "Senjuro! Will you see to it that Izumi is treated with the utmost care while I am gone? She deserves nothing less!"

Izumi flushed again.

"Of course!" cried Senjuro, who wasted no time in seizing Izumi's hand and carefully tugging her towards a separate portion of the house. "Follow me, Miss Kanemoto! I will make us some tea while we wait for my brother!"

She followed after him with no complaint, laughing as the young boy began running as fast as he could towards the kitchens. He was fast; that was good. If he was to become Kyojuro's Tsuguko—his apprentice—then he would need to be strong, determined, and quick on both his feet and his mind.

Within only a few moments they were sitting cross-legged next to each other, the sliding door propped open to allow the beautiful spring breeze inside the house. As Senjuro passed her a cup of sencha tea, he caught her eye and exclaimed, "If I may ask, Miss Kanemoto—tell me everything about your latest mission that allowed you to become Hashira!"

Charmed by his enthusiasm, Izumi began to recount the tale: it had begun when she and Kyojuro sat in on one of the semi-annual meetings of the Hashira. The Master himself had asked for them to slay two of the Twelve Kizuki should they wish to officially join the Hashira ranks.

She and Kyojuro had been sent to exterminate what was assumed to be two of the Twelve Kizuki preying on citizens in the capital of Tokyo. They had known the mission would be dangerous, for very rarely did demons work together, but they had not expected to hear that two of Kibutsuji Muzan's direct servants would be in close proximity.

Kyojuro had battled with Lower Moon Two, who had held a specific grudge against the Rengoku family, while Izumi dealt with the powers of Lower Moon Four. Their adversaries had planted bombs around the capital city—it was quickly determined that Kyojuro's student, Kanroji Mitsuri, and the other swordsmen they had brought would deal with the bombs while Izumi and Kyojuro battled the demons.

"There were many gunshots from Kyojuro's direction. More than once, I… feared for him," said Izumi, green eyes glittering. "The demons' auras were strong—stronger than any demon I've ever perceived before. The one ahead of me was small but agile, and he was able to summon waves of blood to intercept my movements and attempt to drown me."

Senjuro gasped and leaned forward. "How did you end up winning?"

The corners of Izumi's lips quirked upward as she answered, "The demon did not expect me to use his own tactics against him. I may have specialized in Moon Breathing, but I first began training with my grandfather, a former Water Hashira—and so I combatted his blood waves with waves of moonlight that obliterated his power altogether.

"I was able to win my battle just before Kyojuro won his. He had mastered your family's technique during that battle alone: the Ninth Form, Rengoku. I watched as his sword slashed through Lower Moon Two's neck… and after the demons' ashes scattered across the wind, we realized that we had done it. We would remain the same rank, together, just as we have all the way from Mizunoto to Kinoe."

A cool breeze swept through the house, bathing both Senjuro and Izumi with its touch. Izumi took the cup of tea between her hands and drank carefully. She had always been prone to burning her tongue.

It was quiet for a few sparse moments… until Senjuro chuckled and looked at her sideways. "Kyojuro has written home on occasion. His letters always bring me some peace of mind. He… mentions you frequently."

"Does he?" asked Izumi, her eyes widening slightly.

Senjuro nodded and smiled. "He does. He cares about you a lot."

Izumi took another cautious sip of tea, although the rush of warmth that flooded her body next could not be attributed to the drink in her hands. She set the cup down, her eyes locked upon it. "I… am glad to hear that. I care about him, too."

She glanced outside of the window, many thoughts on her mind. Her home was only another hour's walk to the south; it surprised her, how closely she had grown up to the man she considered her closest friend.

Was it fate or chance that they both became Demon Slayers? Was it fate or chance that they met so early on in their careers? Izumi could not decide.

The sliding door into the next room clicked shut, so quietly that she almost missed it. But her attentions were stolen away by Senjuro, who had risen to his feet and was proceeding towards the stone courtyard once again.

Izumi hummed to herself and followed him with her gaze—Kyojuro had reappeared. He was standing in the midst of the courtyard, his back facing her. His white cloak with flames embroidered on its fringes swayed gently in the ensuing breeze. Not for the first time, she found herself thinking that he looked every bit the picture of the heroes she had grown up reading stories of.

She stood up and walked towards the edge of the doorway. His red-orange aura was flickering like a candle exposed to a strong wind. It did not take much insight for her to realize that whatever conversation he had had with his father did not go well.

"Kyojuro?" she called quietly, somberness in her tone.

He glanced over his shoulder and smiled. This was not one of his usual smiles, filled with confidence and enthusiasm. It was sad; serene. Waving to her, he said, "Just a moment, Izumi. I'll be happy to come to you and share some tea after I speak to Senjuro."

Izumi nodded and retreated inside the kitchens, not wishing to intrude upon a moment he clearly wished to share with his younger brother. She sat back down on her mat and crossed her legs, allowing her mind to stray to what might happen when she returned home.

Her little siblings Akihiro and Emiyo would undoubtedly be overjoyed. She had written them, told them that she would be arriving soon—she could not restrain a smile as she thought about how her grandfather may have some sushi waiting at the table. They would be arriving close to dinnertime after all, and he knew that sushi was her favorite food.

She was looking forward to introducing her family to Kyojuro. Just as Senjuro had said Kyojuro mentioned her in his letters, so Izumi had mentioned him in hers. She could only hope that her grandfather wouldn't try and lecture him about Izumi's 'honor,' however…

"We're back!" exclaimed Senjuro's voice. He leapt down and took his spot next to Izumi, patting at the place on his other side for Kyojuro to follow. "Miss Kanemoto has been telling me about your last mission!"

A bright light filled Kyojuro's eyes. "Has she? Izumi is an excellent storyteller! Let me see if I can help fill in the details!"

The following hour was spent with the three of them enjoying the early afternoon sun, refilling their cups of sencha tea as was necessary. Izumi found herself listening more than speaking; it had always been this way, and in fact she liked it as such. She had always been more soft-spoken, choosing to let her expressions speak for her. Contrasting her, Kyojuro was very talkative—he was always the first to start a conversation, and was always eager to maintain one.

It was only when the sun was beginning to sink lower in the sky that Izumi and Kyojuro began their departure. Although Izumi wished they had more time to visit with each of their families, it did not seem that Senjuro shared the same sentiment; he heartily embraced them both as they traveled to the door, a brightness to his young face that was truly reminiscent to his older brother's.

Once they were again on the cobblestone road, Izumi glanced towards her friend and said, "It was nice to finally meet your brother. He is a good person. Bright—like the sun."

Kyojuro's smile could be felt rather than seen due to the glare of the sun caressing his face. "What did you gather from his aura?"

Izumi thought for a moment, remembering what she had seen surrounding the boy. "His color was a beautiful molten gold, with the red-orange of fire at the edges. He has a kind heart, a strong spirit… just like you do. But he is… more gentle."

"Hmm," said Kyojuro. "I have always known that. Senjuro's disposition reminds me of your own."

This was a compliment that Izumi was happy to accept. She smiled and said nothing more.

By the time Izumi's house was in view, the sky was burning colors of orange, blue, and faint rose. The building was just outside the borders of a nearby neighborhood; private, but close enough to society to avoid feeling isolated. There was enough land to farm vegetables for themselves; their life was simple, but honest.

"Allow me to go in first," said Izumi, unable to restrain the grin from spreading across her lips. "I will call for you when my siblings have stopped screaming and asking me for gifts from headquarters."

Kyojuro chuckled, but leaned against a fencepost and gestured her onwards.

Her footsteps were fast, light upon the grass. The house grew closer, and yet… there were no lights inside. All was still; quiet. This was most unlike her family, who had always been like Kyojuro—busy, outgoing, energetic no matter the circumstance.

And then she saw it: the faint aura of black surrounding the house.

Izumi's chest grew tight. She fought off the urge to gasp; she needed to maintain Total Concentration, perhaps now more than ever. Her footfalls grew quicker, more desperate—

"Akihiro!" she cried. "Emiyo!"

She swung open the door.

The unmistakable scent of blood and rot assaulted her senses, so overpowering that Izumi nearly lost herself. It was still dark inside the house, but due to her enhanced sense of sight, she had no trouble seeing what yet awaited her.

Three bodies were sitting upon the chairs of the dinner table, two of which were mangled and desecrated to the point where Izumi could only differentiate between them due to their size. Her grandfather's hands were clasped around his nichirin blade… it was broken. The way the bodies were positioned, as if they had been intentionally placed, sounded an alarm in the back of her mind.

Izumi withdrew her nichirin sword and tuned out the muted sound of flies buzzing. She glared into the darkness. Grief and rage assaulted her on all fronts, preventing her from determining whether the demon was still in her family's house—but whether it had stayed or gone, she had seen the aura of black. That was enough to know what had happened.

She took a breath. Moon Breathing, Ninth Form: Piercing Sight.

At once, her eyes adjusted to the near perfect blackness. Her vision pierced walls, flesh, and bone; frantically did she search for a silhouette positioned somewhere within the house. Half of her heart desperately hoped that whatever monster was responsible for the desecration, it was still lurking in the shadows. That way, she might at least have a chance to slay it and avenge her loved ones, but…

There was nothing. Whatever demon had done this, it was long gone.

"No… no…"

She turned back to her slaughtered family and staggered forward, never mind the fact that she was wading through her younger sister's blood, her younger brother's entrails. One hand fell upon Akihiro's forehead—he was deathly cold to the touch. His green eyes were open, staring glassily at her.

"Akihiro," she whispered. She fell to her knees beside him and cast him in her arms, uncaring of the red stains that bedecked her silver haori as she did. "Akihiro… please… you… you can't…"

Silence.

Izumi's throat burned. Her eyes trailed over her grandfather—he was still. Utterly unmoving. Then she looked over to see her precious seven-year old sister.

Emiyo was left in perfect condition, save for the mauling of her neck. The blood had long since ceased seeping from the wound, clotting in horrid patterns across her pale skin. Only a few scratches were upon her face; thin scrapes, like claws.

And pierced into her chest was a piece of paper: intentional. Just like the placing of the bodies.

With shaking hands, Izumi picked up the paper. Upon it were only a few words; they were written in jagged scrawl, with a red ink that matched the bloodstains on her beloved sister:

You have stolen and soiled my perfect creation. You have slaughtered scores of my siblings. Such offenses could never go answered, and so I will repay the favors you have done unto me. Congratulations on your promotion, Moon Hashira.

Izumi dropped the note; the parchment floated softly to the ground and landed next to a pool of blood that had not yet dried, the impact of the letter's words slowly seeping throughout her entire subconscious.

Her family had been targeted because of her. Because of the work she was doing with the Demon Slayer Corps. If she had followed her father's advice over her grandfather's… if she had stayed at home those four years ago and been married to a good man, if she had led a simple life… would Akihiro and Emiyo still draw breath?

"Izumi?" Kyojuro called from outside. "Is everything all right?"

She did not—she could not—respond.

Soft footfalls approached; a match struck, a candle was lit.

A long silence settled between the two Demon Slayers, one that could not be explained, replicated, or misunderstood. For the first time in two years, Izumi broke Total Concentration. Restrained gasps exited her mouth like hisses of smoke over water. Her eyes squeezed shut as she clasped Emiyo in a tight embrace despite knowing that her sister would never feel it.

"Izumi… I…"

For perhaps the first time since she had met him, Kyojuro was stunned into silence. He did not choose to try speaking again; instead, he moved forward and knelt down beside her, wrapping one strong arm around her shoulder.

Izumi choked and squeezed her younger sister tighter. Hot tears fell upon Emiyo's arm and began trailing, falling, towards the floor.

A slight rustle of paper told Izumi that Kyojuro had found the note that had clearly been left for her. Then he placed his forehead against Izumi's own and said, "We will find the demon responsible. We will track such a monster to the ends of the earth if necessary. We will bring your family peace. And I swear to you—I will be with you until the very end."

Gratitude mingled with grief. Izumi choked again, struggling and failing to keep her emotions in check. She had only seen them for a few moments, but already the images were engrained into her brain—the bodies of her treasured grandfather and of Akihiro and Emiyo, only eleven and seven years old.

"Izumi," murmured Kyojuro. "You will not benefit if you keep yourself hidden away. You will need to feel this before we can begin our work."

She knew he was right. She knew he was right. She knew he was…

Izumi released her cold sister, buried herself within Kyojuro's arms, and began to scream.