A/N: Wishing you all a happy new year in advance!
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Chapter 19: Journey By A Train In Hell: II
His body betrayed him, and he slumped into his seat. As his eyes finally closed against his will, he braced himself for an attack, expecting claws or teeth or something worse.
But… nothing came.
Instead, when he opened his eyes, he wasn't on the train anymore.
He was in a room.
A room that seemed unnervingly familiar. The scent of fresh laundry mixed with the faint aroma of miso soup wafted through the air. The walls were painted a soft beige, and the furniture was simple, warm, and welcoming.
Naruto's breath hitched as he scanned the surroundings. His heart pounded against his ribcage.
This couldn't be…
"Dad?"
The voice, soft and cheerful, came from behind him.
Naruto froze. Slowly, he turned around, his eyes widening at the sight of her.
"H-Himawari?!"
There she stood, his daughter, her radiant smile as bright as ever. She tilted her head, her blue eyes filled with curiosity.
"Are you okay, Dad? You're acting kinda weird," she said, a playful pout forming on her lips.
Naruto staggered back a step, his mind racing. This wasn't possible. Himawari… she was in another world. She wasn't—
"What… What are you doing here?" he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.
Himawari blinked at him, her confusion growing. "What do you mean? Did you drink too much with your friends again last night?" She sighed, shaking her head. "Come on, Dad. You promised you'd help me with my project today. And if you don't hurry, Mom's gonna—"
"Naruto-kun, are you awake yet?"
That voice.
Naruto's blood turned to ice as he heard the gentle, loving voice of Hinata calling from downstairs.
His legs trembled as he turned toward the doorway.
"Hinata…" he whispered.
This couldn't be real. It felt real—the warmth, the smells, the sounds. But how?
His breaths came in short, sharp bursts as a terrifying thought began to creep into his mind.
Was he back? Back in his old life?
Or was this some kind of trap?
Naruto stood frozen in the doorway of his old bedroom, his breath caught in his throat. He looked down at his hands, calloused yet smaller than he remembered, no longer the battle-worn hands of Tanjiro Kamado. His old hands. His old body.
"Himawari?" he whispered, his voice barely audible.
But before he could gather his thoughts, Himawari grabbed his hand with a cheerful tug, her soft laughter pulling him forward. "Come on, Dad! Breakfast's ready!"
Naruto barely registered her words as she dragged him down the familiar staircase. The creak of the old wooden steps, the faint smell of freshly baked bread mixed with miso soup, and the sunlight streaming through the windows—it all hit him like a tidal wave of nostalgia. His heart pounded in his chest, his mind racing with questions.
And then he saw them.
Kawaki was perched on the edge of the couch, glaring at the TV remote as if it were a particularly annoying enemy. "How the hell does this thing even work?" he muttered, pressing random buttons with growing frustration.
Boruto sat cross-legged on the floor, his headband in his lap, carefully polishing the metal plate until it gleamed. His blonde hair caught the sunlight, making him look so much like a younger Naruto that it sent a pang through the older man's chest.
And there, standing by the kitchen counter, was her.
Hinata, her long dark hair tied back, humming softly as she served breakfast. Her movements were graceful, her smile serene. She turned slightly, catching sight of Naruto, and her gentle gaze warmed the room.
"Old man, you're late!" Boruto's voice shattered the moment. He stood, jabbing a finger in Naruto's direction. "You promised to teach me that wind Jutsu today!"
Naruto opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He felt like he was in a dream—a cruelly vivid dream he couldn't wake up from.
Kawaki glanced up from the remote and sighed. "Nanadaime had a rough day yesterday. Maybe don't be so selfish for once, Boruto."
Boruto's head snapped toward Kawaki, his blue eyes blazing. "What did you say, you freeloader?!"
"Oh, you heard me," Kawaki replied coolly, standing up and squaring his shoulders.
Naruto's hand twitched as he instinctively prepared to step between them, but Himawari beat him to it.
"Stop it, you two!" she snapped, stepping forward and flashing her Byakugans. Her white eyes glowed with an intensity that instantly silenced both boys.
Boruto flinched, raising his hands defensively. "A-Alright, geez, I get it! No fighting before breakfast!"
Kawaki muttered something under his breath but wisely backed down, sitting back on the couch with a scowl.
"Good," Himawari said, her voice sweet again as she turned back to the kitchen. "Now sit down before Mom gets mad."
Hinata smiled as she placed bowls of steaming rice and plates of grilled fish on the table. "Alright, everyone, come eat," she called, her voice gentle but firm.
Boruto slumped into a chair, still grumbling, while Kawaki reluctantly joined him. Himawari sat down with a cheerful hum, glancing mischievously at her older brother.
"So, Boruto," she began, her tone teasing, "how was your date with Sarada yesterday?"
Boruto froze, his chopsticks halfway to his mouth. His face turned a deep shade of red. "W-What?! Who said anything about a date?!"
"Oh, come on, big brother. It's obvious," Himawari teased, leaning her chin on her hand. "You've been acting all weird lately, and Sarada's the only one who can put up with you."
Kawaki smirked, crossing his arms. "If you're gonna date a Uchiha, you better be careful. Don't do anything stupid, or you'll have her dad after you."
Hinata, who had been calmly pouring tea, looked up at Boruto with a serious expression. "Yes, Boruto," she said softly. "Sasuke is a good friend, but if you upset his daughter, he won't hesitate to kill you."
Boruto's jaw dropped. "Mom! That's not—"
"And," Hinata added, her cheeks slightly pink, "I am not ready to be a grandmother. Not yet."
Boruto buried his face in his hands, groaning. "Can everyone just stop?! Please?!"
Naruto sat at the table, his chopsticks untouched, watching the lively chaos unfold before him. His heart ached as he took it all in—the bickering, the teasing, the warmth. It was everything he had fought so hard to protect, everything he thought he had lost.
Hinata turned to him, her lavender eyes filled with concern. "Naruto-kun, are you alright?"
Naruto stared at her, his throat tight. Tears welled up in his eyes, threatening to spill over.
"Hinata…" he whispered, his voice trembling.
Hinata's concerned gaze deepened as she leaned closer. "Naruto-kun, you look pale. Are you feeling unwell? Should I call Sakura?"
Before Naruto could even muster a reply, Himawari jumped up from her seat, her small hands clasped tightly in front of her. "Dad, are you sick?! Auntie Sakura can fix you up in no time! I'll go call her right now!"
Boruto frowned, his earlier embarrassment forgotten. "Wait, wait, what if it's, like, mental stress or something? Auntie Ino can handle that stuff, right? I mean, she's a Yamanaka—mind stuff is her thing."
"I'll go call her," Kawaki volunteered, already reaching for the TV remote like it was a phone.
"That's not how it works, you idiot!" Boruto snapped, smacking Kawaki's hand away.
"Do you want something, Dad?" Himawari asked in a panic, her Byakugans activating as if she could find the answer by staring into his chakra pathways. "Tea? Soup? A blanket? I'll make you the best tea, I promise!"
"Maybe it's low chakra levels," Kawaki muttered, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Do we still have some of that energy jelly stuff Shikamaru left here last time?"
Boruto snapped his fingers. "Good idea! Himawari, grab the jelly! I'll get Dad some ramen—"
"No!" Himawari interrupted, hands on her hips. "He needs light food! Ramen will make it worse!"
Hinata, still standing by the table, gently touched Naruto's arm. "Naruto-kun, just tell us what you need. Anything. We're all here for you."
Naruto's throat closed up as he looked at his family, each of them bustling with worry. Himawari's eyes were wide with panic, Boruto's brow was furrowed in concern, Kawaki was awkwardly rifling through the kitchen cabinets, and Hinata's soft touch grounded him in the moment.
They were here. They were alive. They were his.
He tried to speak, but his voice cracked. "I… I'm fine…"
"Like hell you are!" Boruto said, arms crossed. "You look like you've seen a ghost, old man."
"Maybe he did," Kawaki muttered, half-serious, holding up a jar of pickles as though that might help.
"Stop teasing Dad!" Himawari scolded, glaring at both of her brothers.
"I'm really fine," Naruto tried again, his voice breaking. "I just…"
But their concern, their love, their frantic efforts—it was too much. Tears spilled down his cheeks, and his shoulders shook as a sob escaped him.
The room fell silent.
"Dad?" Himawari whispered, stepping closer.
Naruto wiped his face with a trembling hand, laughing softly through his tears. "You guys… you're all so worried over me. I don't deserve this."
"Don't be stupid," Boruto muttered, his voice softer than usual. "Of course we're worried. You're our dad."
Hinata knelt beside him, her gentle hands cupping his face. "Naruto-kun, we love you. It's alright to feel overwhelmed. Whatever it is, we'll face it together."
Naruto sat frozen at the table, the warmth of the scene around him almost suffocating. His hands trembled as he clutched his bowl of soup, his vision blurring with tears he couldn't hold back any longer. His voice cracked as he whispered, "It felt like I was gone forever... I missed you all so much."
Hinata, standing by his side, tilted her head with concern etched into her gentle features. "A bad dream?" she asked softly, her voice almost breaking through the emotional haze Naruto was trapped in.
Naruto shook his head, his throat tight as he struggled to find the right words. "No," he murmured. "More like… a long dream."
"Oh…" Hinata replied quietly, her hand resting lightly on his arm. She didn't push for more, sensing the heaviness in his words.
Straightening, she smiled gently. "You should take the day off, Naruto-kun. Shikamaru can handle things for today. Rest. You've been pushing yourself too hard."
Naruto's eyes flicked to her, and for a moment, he forgot to breathe. The warmth in her voice, the concern, the way she said his name—it was everything he had missed for what felt like an eternity. Slowly, he brought the spoon of soup to his lips, tasting it carefully. His eyes widened slightly. "Hey, Hinata?"
"Yes?" she answered, watching him intently.
"This soup…" He paused, taking another small sip. "It's exactly how Teuchi used to make it."
Hinata blinked, looking surprised. "Oh?"
"It's my favourite taste for soup," he said softly, a ghost of a smile crossing his lips.
"I'm glad you liked it!" she replied, her smile widening.
Naruto set the bowl down, staring at her with furrowed brows. Something was gnawing at him, something he couldn't quite shake. "But you never cooked like this before."
"I didn't?" she asked, her brow knitting in confusion.
"You didn't," Naruto repeated firmly, his voice quieter now.
Pushing his chair back, he stood abruptly, the wooden legs scraping against the floor with a loud screech. The movement startled everyone in the room.
"Dad? What's going on?" Kawaki asked, looking up from where he had been fiddling with the television remote.
"Wait, where are you going?" Boruto called out, standing alongside Himawari, their faces etched with worry and confusion.
Naruto didn't answer right away, his mind racing. He wiped his eyes hastily, blinking hard to steady himself. "I have to go," he finally said, his voice firm.
"Go where?" Himawari asked, her voice trembling slightly as she stepped closer.
Naruto looked at her, his heart twisting painfully. "My comrades need me."
Hinata's voice wavered as she stepped toward him. "But you're not well! You need to rest, Naruto-kun!"
"Yeah!" Boruto added, frowning. "Don't try to act all tough when you're clearly sick!"
Naruto shook his head, his resolve hardening. "I can't. They're waiting for me."
"You don't have to go!" Hinata's voice rose, desperation creeping into her usually calm tone. "You don't have to sacrifice your happiness for others all the time!"
Naruto turned to her, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "That's the difference between you and her," he said quietly, his voice heavy with meaning. "Hinata would never let me stay if our comrades were in danger."
"Dad…?" Himawari whispered, her small hands clasped tightly together.
"Nanadaime?" Kawaki asked hesitantly, his face unreadable.
Naruto straightened his back, drawing in a deep breath. "The first lesson I ever learned," he began, his voice growing steadier, "was this: In the Shinobi world, those who break the rules are trash. But those who abandon their mission are worse than trash."
He turned to Boruto, ruffling his hair affectionately despite his son's grumbled protest. "Take care of everyone while I'm gone, alright?"
Then he clapped a hand on Kawaki's shoulder, nodding at him firmly. "You're strong. Keep it that way."
"Stay safe, my sunflower." He said as he ruffled Himawari's hair.
Finally, Naruto looked at Hinata, his gaze softening as he stepped closer. Leaning down, he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. "It was… I can't describe how happy I am to see you all again," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "And no matter what or whoever I am, I'll always love you."
Hinata's lips parted as if to speak, but her voice failed her.
Naruto closed his eyes, summoning his chakra with a steady breath. The familiar energy coursed through him, and he prepared to leave.
"Naruto—" Hinata's voice cracked, but the rest of her words dissolved into the hum of his chakra.
When Naruto opened his eyes again, the warmth of his home was gone. He was back on the train. The dim lights flickered weakly above him, and the low rumble of the tracks beneath his feet grounded him in the present.
He blinked, his heart racing as he pieced it all together. His chest tightened with the realisation. This wasn't just some dream. It was a cruel, twisted imitation—a knock-off version of the Infinite Tsukuyomi.
Naruto clenched his fists, his teeth grinding together. "Cheap tricks," he muttered, his voice a low growl. But deep inside, his heart still ached. It had felt so real. Too real.
Yet now, back in the dim, eerie silence of the train, Naruto knew the truth. His comrades were waiting for him, and he wouldn't abandon them. Wiping his eyes one last time, he steeled himself.
The battle wasn't over yet.
And he was looking for some revenge.
oOo
Naruto walked with deliberate calmness through the dimly lit train, his katana held loosely in one hand. The unsettling silence of the carriages was occasionally broken by muffled murmurs of trapped victims. Ahead of him, a group of children held the hands of trembling adults, their faces pale and hollow.
Naruto stopped, observing the scene with a quiet intensity. The children, clearly manipulated, didn't notice his approach at first. When they turned, their wide, terrified eyes locked onto his. It was clear they weren't acting of their own will.
Naruto didn't waste time. With swift precision, he struck them gently, knocking them unconscious one by one. They slumped to the ground like ragdolls, free from their forced duties. The adults they had been holding remained in their dreamlike state, their expressions serene but unnervingly empty.
Naruto exhaled slowly, his gaze hardening. "Whatever's doing this... it won't last long."
He stepped forward, ready to move to the next carriage when the entire train shuddered violently beneath his feet. Naruto froze, his senses immediately sharpening. The walls around him groaned, and the atmosphere shifted.
The next carriage was no longer a normal part of the train. It was a grotesque cavern of flesh and pulsating veins, the air thick with a sickly, organic stench. The walls seemed alive, writhing as if the train itself had become a living, breathing entity.
Naruto took one look at the wriggling mass of meat and muscle, and his face darkened. He stepped forward calmly, undeterred by the grotesque sight. The veins and tendrils shot toward him like serpents, each strike aimed to pierce or ensnare him.
He didn't even glance at them. With a single, fluid swing of his katana, the tendrils were severed mid-air, falling to the floor in twitching, useless heaps. His blade gleamed faintly in the dim light, untouched by the carnage.
Naruto continued forward, unbothered. His steps were steady, deliberate. As he reached the end of the carriage, his eyes caught something outside the window.
A massive, disembodied hand loomed in the distance, its grotesque form covered in patches of flesh, with a single glaring eye and a twisted mouth. The hand twitched unnaturally, its eye rolling to focus on Naruto.
Before it could make a move, Naruto acted. His hand glowed as he conjured a Rasengan, the spinning orb of chakra humming with power. With a sharp thrust, he slammed it into the window, shattering the glass into shards that scattered like rain.
The wind roared as the train sped forward, but Naruto was unfazed. He reached out and caught the monstrous hand, gripping it tightly. The creature's single eye widened, its mouth opening in a silent scream.
Naruto's crimson eyes locked onto the hand, his voice cold and unwavering. "Where are you?"
The hand twitched but gave no answer. Its eye darted around wildly, its mouth opening and closing in panicked silence.
Naruto's grip tightened, his gaze unrelenting. "I won't ask twice."
When no response came, Naruto didn't hesitate. Chakra swirled around his hand as he conjured a Wind Style Rasengan. The orb of wind and chakra buzzed menacingly, growing sharper and more destructive.
He slammed the Rasengan into the hand, disintegrating it completely. Flesh, eye, and bone were torn apart, scattering into the wind.
Naruto stood still for a moment, letting the wind whip through his hair. His red eyes glowed faintly as he stared into the void outside the shattered window.
"Fine," he muttered, his voice low and dangerous. "Have it your way."
He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. His chakra flared subtly as he concentrated. The air around him grew still, heavy with anticipation.
When Naruto opened his eyes again, they glowed an even brighter crimson, and two red flower-like marks bloomed on either side of his eyes.
"There you are," he whispered, his lips curving into a grim smile.
oOo
The rooftop of the train rattled under the roaring wind as Lower Moon One stood frozen, his entire being trembling with a mix of fear and desperation. The dim moonlight cast eerie shadows across his pale, sweating face. His legs felt like lead, rooted to the spot as his mind raced.
The Hokage was here.
The stories had circulated among demons like cautionary tales whispered in the dark. Tanjiro Kamado wasn't just any Demon Slayer. He was the Hokage—the warrior who had crushed Doma-senpai without mercy and faced Akaza-senpai in a duel so fierce it was whispered that even Muzan-sama himself had felt unease. Tanjiro wasn't just strong. He was relentless, a force of nature with an unwavering will.
And now, Lower Moon One had drawn his ire.
He thought back to the illusion—his masterpiece, designed to trap even the strongest minds. It had been flawless, seamless. No human should have been able to escape it, let alone destroy it. Yet somehow, Tanjiro had shattered it like glass.
'Sheer willpower?' he thought, his trembling hand clutching the edge of the rooftop for balance. 'That can't be possible... It's insane.'
But as insane as it seemed, here the Hokage was.
The demon's chest heaved with ragged breaths as his mind waged war with itself. He wanted to flee, to abandon this suicidal confrontation. But the mere thought of defying Muzan-sama sent shivers down his spine. He'd seen firsthand what happened to demons who failed their master. Muzan's wrath was merciless, a torment far worse than death.
And yet…
He looked ahead, his blood running cold.
A figure stood at the far end of the rooftop, unmoving yet radiating an aura so fierce it made the air around him seem heavier.
Two glowing crimson eyes pierced through the dark like twin suns. The flower-like markings beside them only added to the sense of dread they inspired. They weren't just eyes—they were a declaration of dominance, a promise of vengeance.
Lower Moon One felt his knees buckle slightly as Tanjiro Kamado's gaze locked onto him. The Hokage's presence was suffocating, a crushing weight that seemed to grow heavier with each passing second.
And his expression…
The Hokage wasn't just angry. He was furious.
That fury wasn't loud or wild—it was cold, controlled, and infinitely more terrifying. His katana rested casually in his hand, its blade gleaming faintly in the moonlight, but his posture spoke volumes. This wasn't just a fight for Tanjiro. This was retribution.
Lower Moon One tried to speak, but his voice caught in his throat. His thoughts were a jumbled mess, torn between grovelling, fighting, and running.
"You look scared," Tanjiro's voice cut through the wind, steady and calm, yet dripping with venom. "Good."
The demon flinched, his hands instinctively clenching into fists. "Y-You… you shouldn't have come here, Hokage!" he managed to stammer. "King-sama will destroy you! He'll—"
"Enough."
The single word silenced him instantly. Tanjiro took a step forward, the sound of his sandals on the rooftop unnervingly loud against the rushing wind.
"I don't care about coward so-called king" Tanjiro said, his voice low but unwavering. "He's next. But first…"
Another step.
"You."
Lower Moon One felt his instincts scream at him to run, to attack, to do anything. But he couldn't move. It was as though Tanjiro's gaze alone had pinned him in place.
"You took innocent lives tonight," Tanjiro continued, his tone growing colder with each word. "You trapped them in a dream they couldn't escape. You forced children to do your dirty work."
His katana gleamed as he raised it slightly, the moonlight reflecting off its blade.
"And for that, there's no forgiveness."
Lower Moon One's survival instincts finally kicked in, and he let out a desperate roar, lunging forward with claws outstretched. His body moved faster than the human eye could track, tendrils of shadowy flesh sprouting from his back to strike at Tanjiro from every angle.
But the Hokage didn't even flinch.
With one swift, fluid motion, Tanjiro's katana sliced through the tendrils as though they were paper. He stepped to the side, avoiding the demon's claws by mere millimetres, and countered with a precise slash that severed one of Lower Moon One's arms entirely.
The demon screamed in pain, stumbling backward as black blood sprayed across the rooftop. His severed arm writhed grotesquely before disintegrating into ash.
"You're wasting my time," Tanjiro said flatly, his crimson eyes narrowing.
Lower Moon One's mind spiralled into panic. He couldn't win this. He wasn't Doma or Akaza—he was a coward in the shadow of giants.
But Muzan-sama's voice echoed in his mind, cold and unyielding. 'Failure is not an option.'
The demon let out another roar, his body morphing grotesquely as he summoned every ounce of power he had. His flesh twisted and expanded, forming a monstrous, serpentine form that towered over the rooftop. Veins pulsed across his body as his single eye glared down at Tanjiro.
"You think you're unstoppable?" the demon growled, his voice distorted and guttural. "Let's see how you handle this!"
Tanjiro didn't reply. He simply raised his katana, his grip firm and unshaking. His crimson eyes burned brighter, and the flower markings on his face seemed to glow with an otherworldly light.
"You're right about one thing," Tanjiro said quietly, his voice carrying effortlessly over the howling wind.
"I 'am' unstoppable."
And with that, he charged.
Lower Moon One felt his breaths come in ragged gasps as he staggered back, his monstrous form trembling with a mix of rage and desperation. Every attack he launched was met with brutal precision. Every desperate gambit he attempted was crushed without hesitation.
But what scared him the most wasn't Tanjiro's strength—it was his composure.
The Hokage wasn't fighting him with a sense of urgency or desperation. No, Tanjiro Kamado was toying with him.
"You really thought you stood a chance?" Tanjiro asked, his voice calm, almost conversational, as he stepped forward with measured precision. The red glow in his eyes made them seem like smouldering embers, watching, judging.
The demon hissed, lunging forward with a renewed roar of desperation, only to find his attack effortlessly countered. Tanjiro's katana moved with an elegance that belied its destructive power, the white blade cutting cleanly through the demon's tendrils yet again.
"You're pathetic," Tanjiro said, his voice low and dripping with disdain. "You play with people's emotions. You give them false hope, promises of a life they'll never have, just to trap them in an illusion."
He sheathed his katana momentarily, watching as the demon scrambled to recover, regrowing the severed limbs and tendrils that had been cut away.
"Do you know what it feels like to lose everything? To fight for every inch of ground while clinging to the ones you love?" Tanjiro's voice was steady, but the fire in his eyes burned brighter with each word. "You don't, do you? You've never fought for anything. You just steal."
Lower Moon One snarled, his monstrous body coiling around the rooftop of the train as he prepared for another strike. He gathered every ounce of demonic energy he had left, his veins pulsing with blackened blood.
"You think you're better than me, Hokage?!" the demon roared, his voice trembling with fear masked as defiance. "You think you understand pain?!"
Tanjiro's expression didn't change. He took one step forward, and the demon flinched.
"I understand it better than you ever will," he said simply.
The demon launched himself forward, his serpentine body striking like a coiled spring. For a moment, it seemed as though he had caught Tanjiro off guard. His claws slashed forward, aiming directly for the Hokage's heart.
But in the blink of an eye, Tanjiro's katana was unsheathed.
The blade flashed with a blinding light as it intercepted the attack, cutting cleanly through the demon's claws and sending him reeling backward.
"You thought you had a chance," Tanjiro said, his voice colder now. "You never did."
With a flick of his wrist, Tanjiro sent a wave of wind slicing toward the demon, cutting into his flesh and forcing him to retreat further.
The demon screamed, his monstrous body writhing in agony as he struggled to regenerate. But no matter how many times he tried, Tanjiro was there, slashing, cutting, and tearing him apart piece by piece.
"Every time you make someone believe they've found happiness, you take it away from them," Tanjiro said, his voice rising slightly. "You don't deserve mercy."
Lower Moon One tried to speak, but no words came out. His body was falling apart faster than he could regenerate, and the weight of Tanjiro's words bore down on him like an unrelenting storm.
Tanjiro's katana began to glow. The white blade shimmered, its edge slowly turning a deep crimson, as though it had been dipped in molten fire. The heat radiating from it was palpable, causing the very air around them to shimmer.
The old scar on Tanjiro's forehead began to spread, merging with the flower-like sage markings on either side of his eyes. His entire presence seemed to grow, filling the rooftop with an overwhelming sense of power and purpose.
Lower Moon One's single eye widened in terror. "No… no, no, no!" he shrieked, backing away as his body coiled and twisted in a futile attempt to escape.
Tanjiro inhaled deeply, his eyes closing for a brief moment as he steadied himself. Then, his eyes snapped open, glowing brighter than ever.
"Hinokami Kagura," he said, the words leaving his lips with an almost reverent tone.
The katana in his hand ignited, flames bursting forth and wrapping around the blade like a living entity. The deep crimson flames danced and flickered, casting long shadows that seemed to stretch across the endless expanse of the night.
"Flame Dance!"
Tanjiro lunged forward, his movements impossibly fast. The flames of his katana roared as he spun and slashed, carving through the demon's monstrous form with precision and ferocity. Each strike left a trail of fire in its wake, burning away the demon's flesh and reducing it to ash.
The train itself shuddered under the force of Tanjiro's attacks. The rooftop buckled and groaned as the flames tore through the demon's body, cutting cleanly from one end of the train to the other.
With one final, powerful swing, Tanjiro's blade cleaved through the demon's core, slicing the train itself in half. The flames erupted in a brilliant explosion of light and heat, consuming the demon entirely.
The train screeched to a halt, the severed carriages skidding to a stop as the flames subsided. Smoke billowed into the night sky, and the air was thick with the acrid scent of burning flesh and metal.
Tanjiro stood amidst the wreckage, his katana still glowing faintly with residual heat. The crimson flames had died down, leaving only embers clinging to the blade.
He exhaled slowly, his shoulders relaxing as he sheathed his katana.
The demon was gone. The nightmare was over.
For now.
Naruto stood amidst the scattered wreckage of the train, his breath steadying as he surveyed the scene. The passengers, once entrapped in the cruel illusion, were slowly stirring back to life. Cries of confusion turned to relief as they realised they were safe. Families reunited, tears of joy streaming down their faces, and an overwhelming warmth began to replace the earlier terror.
Naruto's gaze softened as he watched the scene unfold. The memory of his own family, so vivid yet so distant, lingered in his mind. A pang of longing tugged at his heart, but he pushed it aside. These people deserved their happiness.
Not far from the train's remains, he saw Rengoku Kyojuro stirring, his golden eyes blinking open. The Flame Hashira looked worn but content, his usual vibrant smile returning as he sat up. A group of Kakushi rushed to his side, bowing deeply to him and Naruto in gratitude, offering medical supplies and assistance.
Naruto approached Rengoku, kneeling beside him. "You okay, Rengoku?"
Rengoku chuckled, his voice still full of fiery resolve despite his exhaustion. "Ah, Tanjiro! You've done well. The passengers are safe, and the demon is no more. Truly, you have the heart of a warrior and the spirit of a hero!"
Naruto couldn't help but smile at Rengoku's unwavering optimism. Even in the aftermath of such chaos, the man radiated a contagious energy.
However, a flicker of worry crossed Naruto's face as he glanced around. "Where's Zenitsu and Inosuke?"
One of the Kakushi nearby paused, bowing deeply before answering. "We haven't located them yet, Hokage-sama. They were not found among the passengers."
Naruto's heart skipped a beat, but before panic could take root, a familiar, boisterous voice echoed from the distance.
"HA! That demon thought it could outsmart the great Inosuke? What a fool!"
Naruto turned to see Inosuke barreling down the railway tracks, his wild energy undiminished as he sprinted with a triumphant grin on his face. His boar mask was slightly askew, and his twin blades were slung across his back, but his pride was intact as always.
Behind him, Zenitsu ran in frantic desperation, pursued by a mob of angry women waving sticks, shoes, and whatever else they could find. "I SWEAR I DIDN'T MEAN IT!" Zenitsu wailed, tears streaming down his face. "IT WAS A MISUNDERSTANDING!"
Naruto let out a soft laugh, shaking his head at the sight. Inosuke's unyielding bravado and Zenitsu's endless misfortune were a bizarrely comforting sight in the aftermath of the battle.
As they drew closer, Naruto raised a hand in greeting, his smile widening. "You two sure know how to make an entrance."
Inosuke skidded to a halt, pointing a dramatic finger at Naruto. "Of course! The great Inosuke always makes an impression! But you—" He paused, narrowing his eyes. "You look less pathetic than usual. Did you finally awaken your inner beast spirit or something?"
Zenitsu, still dodging the wrath of the mob, ducked behind Naruto for cover. "Save me, Boss! I was just trying to be polite, and now they're after me!"
Naruto raised an eyebrow. "Polite? What did you say?"
Zenitsu winced. "I… may have called someone's mother an old hag by accident."
Naruto pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. "Zenitsu, how are you still alive?"
As the chaos subsided, Naruto's thoughts drifted back to his family—Hinata, Boruto, Himawari, Kawaki, and all the friends and comrades he'd left behind in that illusion. The ache in his chest was still there, but it no longer weighed him down.
He looked up at the clear night sky, the stars twinkling like scattered embers in the vast darkness.
"I'll move forward," he murmured to himself. His fists clenched, not with anger, but with determination. "For Hinata. For Boruto, Himawari, Kawaki. For Sasuke, Sakura, Jiraiya, Kakashi… For everyone."
He glanced at the remains of the train, the last vestiges of the demon's influence fading into the air. A faint smile graced his lips.
"I won't let sadness hold me back anymore," he said quietly, his resolve solidifying with every word.
Zenitsu, peeking out from behind him, frowned. "Boss? Are you talking to yourself again? You're scaring me!"
Inosuke smacked Zenitsu on the back of the head. "Shut it, coward! The lesser great Sanjiro is having a profound moment of enlightenment!"
Naruto turned to them, his smile now full of warmth and reassurance. "Let's get moving. There's still work to be done."
As the group regrouped and began to make their way forward, Naruto felt a sense of peace settle over him. No matter the challenges ahead, he would face them head-on, just as he always had.
Because he wasn't just Tanjiro Kamado. He wasn't just a demon slayer.
He was the Hokage.
The Fire Shadow.
oOo
The oppressive silence of Muzan Kibutsuji's throne room was shattered by his rage. His crimson eyes blazed with fury as he sat at the centre, his aura suffocating, his presence dominating. The air felt heavy, thick with the weight of his anger. The Upper Moons, the strongest of his demon lieutenants, knelt before him, heads bowed low.
"Lower Moon One..." Muzan hissed, his voice as sharp as a blade. "Defeated. By him! Tanjiro Kamado—the so-called Hokage!"
The name dripped with venom as he spat it out. His clawed fingers tapped rhythmically on the armrest of his throne, the sound echoing ominously.
Akaza, the Third Upper Moon, dared to speak first. "Muzan-sama, the boy is no ordinary slayer. He—"
"Silence!" Muzan's voice cracked like thunder, and Akaza flinched, biting his tongue. Muzan's gaze bore into him, his wrath palpable. "Do not insult my intelligence with excuses! Are you suggesting that a mere human, no matter how skilled, should pose a challenge to us? To me?"
The room fell silent again. Doma, the Second Upper Moon, let out a soft chuckle, attempting to diffuse the tension. "Muzan-sama, perhaps Lower Moon One was simply... insufficiently prepared. A pity, really."
Muzan's glare snapped to him. "And you, Doma? What have you accomplished? You sit there with that smug grin, yet you have failed to bring me a single step closer to my goal!"
Doma's smile faltered, though he quickly regained his composure, bowing his head deeper. "My apologies, Muzan-sama. I will redouble my efforts."
Muzan's anger burned hotter. His voice dropped to a deadly calm. "Redouble your efforts? I need results, not empty promises. Tanjiro Kamado walks the earth, defying me at every turn. He has nealy slain slain Doma- and Akaza, dismantling my ranks one by one. And now... now he has humiliated us further by dispatching Lower Moon One without breaking a sweat."
The mention of Kamado's name sent a ripple of unease through the demons. Kokushibo, the First Upper Moon, finally spoke, his deep voice cutting through the tension like a sword. "Muzan-sama, Tanjiro Kamado is no ordinary foe. He wields techniques unfamiliar to us, and his endurance is beyond that of a human. Perhaps... he is more than human."
Muzan's eyes narrowed. "More than human? Are you suggesting that I should fear him?"
Kokushibo shook his head solemnly. "Fear is not the issue, Muzan-sama. It is strategy. If he truly possesses abilities beyond what we have encountered, we must adapt."
Muzan rose from his throne in a swift, fluid motion, his figure towering and menacing. "Adapt? I am the progenitor of demons! I do not adapt—I dominate!" He stepped closer to the kneeling Upper Moons, his presence oppressive. "You have all grown complacent in your power. While Tanjiro Kamado has grown stronger, you have stagnated. Do you understand the shame you bring me?"
The demons bowed even lower, their fear tangible. Akaza clenched his fists, frustration evident on his face. "Muzan-sama, I will go after him. I will not fail you."
Muzan's lips curled into a cruel smile. "You? You failed to kill Rengoku Kyojuro. You let him slip through your fingers. And now you think you can defeat Kamado? Pathetic."
Akaza's knuckles cracked under the pressure of his grip, but he said nothing, knowing any retort would only anger Muzan further.
Muzan turned his gaze to the rest. "You are all equally useless. If Kamado continues to interfere, my plans will be delayed, and I will not tolerate that. I want him eradicated. Burn his name from history."
The demons nodded, their fear outweighing their pride. Muzan's aura intensified, his crimson eyes glowing with malice.
"Kokushibo," Muzan said, his voice a low growl. "You will lead the charge. Find him. Destroy him. And bring me proof of his death."
Kokushibo bowed deeply. "As you command, Muzan-sama."
"And the rest of you," Muzan continued, his tone icy. "If any of you fail me again, you will meet the same fate as the Lower Moons. Do not test my patience."
The Upper Moons murmured their acknowledgements, their heads still bowed. Muzan's gaze lingered on each of them, his disdain clear.
"Tanjiro Kamado," Muzan muttered to himself, his voice dripping with hatred. "You will learn the price of defying me. And when I stand over your broken body, you will know the futility of your resistance."
The room fell silent once more, Muzan's rage simmering as the Upper Moons prepared to carry out his orders. The battle against Tanjiro Kamado—the Hokage— was reaching it's climax.
oOo
Author Note:
Hey there, folks! How's life treating you? It's been a minute since I last dropped a chapter, but I hope you're all having a fantastic time with your loved ones during this grand festival.
Here's a little milestone to celebrate: it's been exactly one year since I started my journey as a writer in English literature (and on ) with this very story! Can you believe it? One year, 23 more stories, over 1 million words, and countless hours later—here we are! Your support and encouragement have made it all worthwhile, so thank you from the bottom of my heart.
Unlike most of my newer works, this story takes a bit more effort and thought to craft. That's why it might take me longer to update, but trust me—it's worth it. Quality over speed, right?
I hope you enjoyed this chapter! If you did, let me know your thoughts in the review section. Your feedback fuels my creativity and pushes me to write with more depth, clarity, and passion.
See you in the next chapter! And hey, Happy New Year in advance—may it bring endless joy and inspiration for us all!