Mount Fujikasane loomed like a silent colossus, wreathed in a perpetual night-like gloom that made it the perfect crucible for testing demon slayers.
The moment Canary and Tanjiro arrived at the foot of the mountain, they were greeted by the sight of several other would-be participants, each bearing a distinct style of dress and an air of guarded determination.
Tanjiro carried Nezuko's box on his back, though he planned to leave her in a safe place near the base under the care of a friendly caretaker associated with Urokodaki.
Canary, however, decided to keep her staff strapped across her back along with her twin swords.
She drew curious glances, but her calm bearing and the subtle confidence in her posture were enough to deter any direct questions.
As dusk fell, a few members of the Corps, clad in solemn attire, appeared to address the gathered examinees.
They explained the rules: the mountain was infested with demons captured alive for this very test.
The examinees had seven days to survive on the mountain. Any who lived to see dawn on the seventh day would pass.
A murmur ran through the crowd. Some looked terrified; others wore expressions of grim acceptance. Canary felt a stir of adrenaline flood her veins.
"We'll be letting Nezuko stay here with the caretaker," Tanjiro murmured. "Are you sure you want to do this?"
She met his gaze, unwavering. "Yes."
He smiled slightly. "Then let's survive it together."
Moments later, the final selection commenced. The examinees were ushered past a wisteria gate, the sweet perfume of the flowers filling the air.
Legend said the wisteria's scent repelled demons. But deeper within, the protective wisteria would be absent, and the creatures would roam freely, hunting.
Canary and Tanjiro stuck close as they advanced into the dark labyrinth of trees. The hush was eerie, broken only by the occasional snap of twigs underfoot. Overhead, the moon shone pale and distant, glimpsed between swaying branches.
No sooner had they gone a short distance when shrieks echoed from their right. Two examinees had collided with a demon that leaped upon them like a feral beast.
Tanjiro, heart pounding, started to move to help, but Canary gripped his arm.
"There may be more," she warned, eyes scanning the shadows. Indeed, two more demons were circling, eager for fresh prey.
They rushed into battle, steel flashing. The next seven days would be the crucible that forged or broke them. For Canary, it was also a gamble—a risk taken to uncover secrets of this realm that might lead her home.
As she deflected a demon's claw, countering with a swift blow of her staff, she was reminded of her time in the Zoldyck forest, her unwavering duty.
But here and now, in this mountain saturated with terror, duty had become survival.
Fear gave way to focus. The final selection would test them to their limits, forging alliances and rivalries under the monstrous threat of demons.
If they emerged victorious, they would earn recognition and perhaps, for Canary, a step closer to discovering how to leave.
Determination flared in her eyes. She met Tanjiro's gaze, a silent vow passing between them.
We will survive.
OoO
The labyrinthine forest tested their stamina and courage. Demons lurked behind twisted trunks, roamed among thick undergrowth, and pounced from overhead branches. Some examinees teamed up, forming small squads to watch each other's backs, while others roamed alone, confident in their abilities.
Canary and Tanjiro moved in a synchronized dance of offense and defense. While Tanjiro relied on his Water Breathing forms—elegant arcs of steel that mimicked the flow of running streams—Canary deftly combined staff strikes and sword slashes. She inflicted precise damage, aiming to cripple a demon's movements before going in for the kill. At times, she used her Nen to heighten her senses or amplify her strikes, though she carefully avoided revealing too much in the presence of other slayers.
Over the first night, they rescued a young woman who had been cornered by a grotesque demon with twisting limbs. Tanjiro delivered the finishing blow, cutting clean through its neck. Canary helped the woman calm down, offering water from a small flask. The shared danger created a camaraderie among them, but the woman soon parted ways, determined to survive on her own.
By the second day, the number of examinees had visibly dwindled. Tattered corpses and scattered weapons painted a grim picture. The stench of blood hung in the air. Yet, in the distance, one could hear occasional shouts of triumph—proof that not all had fallen.
On the third night, Tanjiro sensed a presence far stronger than the demons they'd faced so far. Canary felt it too—a concentrated aura of malevolence. Cautiously, they tracked the source, creeping through a dense thicket until they reached a small clearing illuminated by a sliver of moonlight. There, a demon the size of a small house stood hunched, its arms thick as tree trunks, eyes burning with predatory glee. Around it lay the remains of at least four examinees.
Swallowing hard, Tanjiro tightened his grip on his sword. "This one's different…stronger."
Canary's expression was steely. "We've faced stronger threats before. But let's be careful."
The demon roared, saliva spraying from its maw, as it lunged with terrifying speed. Tanjiro dodged right, rolling away from a massive swipe, while Canary planted her feet, bracing with her staff. Sparks flew when the demon's claws raked across her weapon. She shoved back, forcing it off-balance.
Tanjiro leaped, slicing across the demon's shoulder, but the blade barely penetrated the thick hide. The demon snarled in pain and anger, swinging a meaty fist. The impact clipped Tanjiro's arm, sending him sprawling.
Canary seized the opportunity, channeling a burst of Nen into her legs. She vaulted onto the demon's back, aiming the pointed end of her staff at its neck. The demon, however, whipped around in a frenzy, dislodging her. She landed in a crouch, heart pounding.
"Tanjiro, you okay?" she gasped.
He grimaced, clutching his bruised arm. "I'll manage."
They exchanged a nod, a silent pact to end this now. Tanjiro lunged from one side, Canary from the other, coordinating their strikes to box the demon in. It swatted left, then right, howling in rage. Tanjiro found an opening, unleashing a Water Breathing form that parted the demon's flesh in a diagonal slash from hip to shoulder.
As the demon reeled in agony, Canary swept in with her staff, jabbing it into the demon's gaping wound. She twisted brutally, forcing the demon to roar and double over. With an opening now clear, Tanjiro's sword flashed in a final arc, severing the demon's head in a spray of blood that stained the forest floor.
Chest heaving, the pair watched as the demon collapsed, dissolving into ash. Tanjiro's breathing was ragged, and Canary clutched a new bruise on her thigh. But they were alive.
They took shelter in a small cave for the remainder of the night, carefully tending their injuries. Sleep was light, haunted by nightmares of monstrous visages. Even so, by dawn, their resolve remained unbroken.
OoO
On the sixth day, a hush settled over the mountain, as though the demons were gathering to unleash a final onslaught against the dwindling examinees. One by one, the participants either fell in brutal clashes or hunkered down, relying on wisteria pockets as brief havens.
Canary and Tanjiro persevered, though fatigue weighed on them. Food had grown scarce, and they subsisted on meager rations combined with the occasional found morsel. To complicate matters, their battles had grown steadily more difficult. They encountered demons capable of illusions, serpentine transformations, and advanced regenerative abilities.
Still, they fought on. Each demon slain was a testament to their iron determination. Tanjiro's empathy and unwavering drive to protect life fused seamlessly with Canary's sharp, precise style. In many ways, she was reminded of her training in the Zoldyck Estate: survival was paramount, and adaptability was everything.
By the time the seventh night arrived, exhaustion clung to them, but the knowledge that dawn would mark the test's end spurred them onward. They holed up in a small clearing peppered with wisteria vines that had been carefully grown there for respite.
"We have to last just a few more hours," Tanjiro murmured, wincing at the bruises across his ribs.
Canary nodded, pressing a hand to her bandaged shoulder. "Stay awake. Demons might see this as their last chance to hunt."
Sure enough, as the hours crept by, the air teemed with tension. Harsh snarls and piercing screams echoed from distant parts of the mountain, chilling the blood of any who heard them. In the gloom, glowing demon eyes flickered.
A pair of demons with elongated arms skittered close, testing the boundary of the wisteria. Canary and Tanjiro forced themselves to their feet, ready to defend. But the demons, sensing the repellent power of the flowers, kept their distance, prowling around like sharks circling a boat. The standoff continued until the eastern sky began to lighten, and the demons slunk away with shrieks of frustration.
At last, dawn broke, the warm glow of the sun cresting the horizon. A profound wave of relief washed over Canary, Tanjiro, and the few other survivors. They had endured seven nights of terror. They had proven their mettle.
Cautiously, they made their way back to the wisteria gate. A small group of uniformed Corps members waited, solemn pride reflected in their postures. Tanjiro scanned the crowd, breathing a sigh of relief at seeing a handful of examinees alive, some wounded, some near collapse.
A pair of children with pale complexions and vacant expressions arrived to administer the final portion of the ritual. They offered uniform fittings and a chance to choose an ore for forging a specialized sword, known as a Nichirin Blade.
Tanjiro stepped forward, grateful yet anxious to see Nezuko again. When it was Canary's turn, she hesitated.
"Do you intend to join us?" one of the children asked in a monotone.
The silence stretched. She felt Tanjiro's expectant gaze. She recalled her reasons: the desire for answers, for a path home. A new sword might benefit her, especially if it was keyed to demon-slaying. After a heartbeat, she gave a short nod.
"Yes," she replied. "But…my goal is to gather knowledge."
They offered her the same procedure, letting her select a chunk of ore for her blade. She chose one that resonated oddly under her fingertips. Its weight felt right in her hand. She wondered if forging a Nichirin Blade might reveal new possibilities for her.
Thus, by the light of dawn, both Canary and Tanjiro were inducted into the Demon Slayer Corps. And though relief threaded their triumph, Canary knew her journey was only just beginning.
OoO
In the days after final selection, the survivors dispersed. Some returned to their mentors to complete their training, while others sought out urgent missions. Tanjiro rushed to reunite with Nezuko, his heart bursting with relief at seeing her safe.
Canary accompanied him, unsure of her next move. A part of her wanted to see Arata and his family again, to let them know she had survived. Another part yearned to press forward, diving headlong into research about phenomena that could return her to her own realm.
A Demon Slayer Corps messenger delivered a message to Tanjiro: he had been assigned his first official mission. He looked torn, glancing between Canary and Nezuko.
"You should check on your family," he said softly. "I can handle my mission. We'll meet again, I'm sure of it. We're both part of the Corps now."
His faith in their reunion warmed her. She smiled. "All right. Keep safe. And if you find anything, anything at all, about portals, or traveling between worlds…"
"I'll contact you," he promised. With that, they parted ways under the shade of an old cherry tree.
In the days that followed, Canary traveled back through the towns she had visited, weaving her way toward Arata's homestead. She couldn't help but feel changed by her experience on Mount Fujikasane, the exhaustion, the struggle, and the bonds formed under life-threatening conditions. She had never fully imagined joining an organization like the Demon Slayer Corps, yet here she was.
Finally, she reached the familiar outskirts of the settlement. It was late evening when she caught sight of the small cottage, lantern light flickering in the window. The sound of children's laughter drifted on the wind. She smiled, heart lighter than it had been in weeks.
Before she even reached the door, Yoshinori sprinted out, eyes lighting up. "Canary!" he exclaimed, voice cracking with excitement. "You're back! Dad said you were doing something really dangerous, he was super worried, but he believed in you."
She found herself grinning at the boy's exuberance. "I'm glad to see you, too."
The rest of the family poured outside—Arata, Yoshimasa, the triplets, all wearing expressions of awe. Arata wore a proud, knowing smile, as though unsurprised by her return. They shepherded her in, pressing hot tea into her hands and urging her to sit by the fire.
As the children clamored for stories, she recounted the final selection in broad strokes, omitting the more gruesome details. She told them about the alliances formed, the harrowing battles, and how she'd succeeded. Arata listened intently, arms folded across his chest. When she finished, he inclined his head.
"You've accomplished something remarkable. And you say you've joined the Corps?" he asked.
She nodded. "They're my best lead on finding a clue about how to get home. Plus, it feels…right to help these people. They're suffering."
He smiled faintly, a sadness lurking in his eyes. "It's good. I'm glad you've found purpose here."
That night, after the children had gone to bed, Canary sat with Arata and his wife near the smoldering embers of the fireplace. She confessed the guilt that haunted her, a sense of betraying her original duty in the Zoldyck realm. She worried about what her absence meant for the estate.
Arata patted her hand gently. "The way you speak of your old life…it sounds like you lived in constant duty. Sometimes, it's all right to choose your own path. If there are new responsibilities here—people who need saving—maybe that's what you're meant to do now."
She thanked him, though uncertainty still brewed beneath her calm exterior. She promised the family she would stay a while, train them further, especially in basic demon defense. If a day came when she found a lead on her portal, she would depart again, but until then, she would share her knowledge.
In the mornings that followed, the farmstead buzzed with renewed excitement. Canary rose before dawn, leading Arata's children through rigorous drills. She refined their stances, taught them to watch for demon weaknesses, and introduced them to fundamental sword movements that mirrored the stances she'd learned during her swordsmanship training.
The children, though young, took to it with eagerness. Their mother watched from the sidelines, a bittersweet pride lighting her eyes.
Yoshinori improved rapidly, balancing raw enthusiasm with discipline. He often asked about the final selection, but Canary was gentle in her responses, emphasizing the gravity of the demon threat. She didn't want him running off recklessly to join the Corps at his tender age.
OoO
Weeks slipped by in relative peace, though rumor occasionally reached them of demon sightings not far away. Canary never let her guard down. She patrolled the surrounding woods at night, slaying a rogue demon here or there before it could threaten the settlement. The routine was almost comforting.
Yet, she felt a tug inside her—a voice that insisted she continue her quest for knowledge. One crisp afternoon, while sparring with Arata, he picked up on her distraction.
"You've grown restless," he observed, pressing an attack she barely managed to parry. "Your mind is wandering."
She broke off, stepping back. "I…apologies. My thoughts keep drifting to the Corps. I joined them for a reason, and I can't just stay here forever."
Arata lowered his sword, nodding. "I expected as much. You have a larger destiny, Canary. Or at least, a bigger responsibility than training a bunch of kids in a remote settlement. When you go, we'll wish you well."
The next day, she packed her things, heavier at heart than she cared to admit. The children tried to hide their disappointment. Yoshinori, bold as ever, demanded a promise that she would return.
She knelt to his eye level, pressing a hand to his shoulder. "I promise I'll come back whenever I can. Keep practicing. Keep your family safe."
He squared his jaw, eyes moist with unshed tears, but he nodded. "We will."
The family saw her off, gratitude and affection shining in their eyes. Yoshimasa handed her a new kimono, expertly sewn with subtle patterns reminiscent of the sky at dawn. "For your travels," she said, smiling softly.
Donning the kimono over her slayer uniform, Canary walked away from the farmstead, heading toward the nearest Corps outpost. She carried her staff and twin swords, anticipating the day she'd finally receive her own Nichirin Blade—an official sign of her membership.
As the sun rose high, its warmth on her back, she couldn't help but feel a flicker of excitement. She was forging her own path, shaped by duty, loyalty, and the faint hope of returning home. No matter how daunting it might be, she would face it head-on.
OoO
Days turned into nights, and nights into days, as Canary made her way to a mid-sized Corps estate rumored to house a small archive of demon lore. On her journey, she ran across other demon slayers, some seasoned, some green, and took part in minor demon-hunting missions. Whispers reached her of Tanjiro's exploits, how he fought valiantly with unwavering kindness, how he and his demon sister had garnered the attention of certain Hashira.
Canary hoped that if Tanjiro was indeed meeting the Hashira, he might glean knowledge that would benefit her. Regardless, she pressed on, intent on finding her own leads. At the estate, she spent hours poring over records, searching for any mention of portals, dimensional rifts, or anomalies.
Most references were vague legends or mythical accounts, heavy on conjecture and short on reliable detail.
Still, a pattern emerged. Certain demons rumored to possess reality-bending powers, typically the direct subordinates of Muzan Kibutsuji, the progenitor of all demons. Could it be that one of them, or even Muzan himself, was responsible for the phenomenon that brought her here?
If so, the path to returning home might demand confronting the heart of demonkind.
She shuddered at the thought, but steel hardened in her gaze. She would not falter. Even if the cost was high, she had a duty to return or, at least, to protect the vulnerable in the meantime. The Zoldycks had shaped her to be unyielding.
And so she delved deeper into the Corps' world, taking missions, honing her swordsmanship, and forging bonds with fellow slayers. She witnessed heartbreak and triumph, encountered demons whose backstories were laced with tragedy, and realized that darkness here was not so different from the darkness in her own realm. It could be terrifying or sorrowful, but never straightforward.
Each victory carried a glimmer of hope. Each demon slain reminded her of the families spared from a dreadful fate. Over time, she even found herself comforted by the unwavering moral code of the Corps, protect the weak, stand against evil, and endure. The simplicity was refreshing compared to the moral ambiguity she once knew.
Yet the question lingered: Would she ever see the Zoldyck Estate again?
"I will keep searching," she murmured, voice resolute.
"For a way home, and in the meantime, for a way to protect those who need it."
Her new life in the Demon Slayer Corps was one of constant trials, but also of hope. She would continue forging ahead, guided by her innate sense of loyalty and the flickering possibility that somewhere, the means to return to her old world awaited.
And if she never found that portal? Then she would become a shield for this realm's people, just as she had once vowed to protect her own. Because duty, once taken, could never truly be cast aside.
With that silent oath, Canary turned from the pond and vanished into the night. The path ahead was shrouded in uncertainty, but she would face it with the unwavering resolve of the butler who once served the Zoldyck family,now a demon slayer, forging her destiny among the shadows of a world that had become her second home.