The Kamado house was quiet. But outside, thick clouds rolled across the sky, hiding the sun and casting a dark shadow over the forest.
The air felt heavy, like something important had just changed in the world. Birds had stopped singing. Even the wind seemed to stand still.
Inside, Nezuko Kamado opened her eyes.
The world looked… different.
'Everything feels sharper… like I can see every detail in the room. Is this a dream?'
She blinked slowly, her vision clearer than ever before. Her body felt light. She sat up and looked down at her hands. They looked the same at first—but her nails were longer, almost claw-like. Her skin looked smoother and colder. Her hair slid over her shoulders, the ends now glowing softly with a red-orange shine.
'My hair… my nails… what happened to me? This doesn't feel normal.'
Across the room, her mother gasped.
"Nezuko?" Kei Kamado whispered, her voice full of shock and worry. Her hands trembled as she stood.
Nezuko turned her head slowly. "Mom…?"
Kei rushed over and wrapped her arms around her daughter tightly.
"You're awake… thank goodness, you're awake…"
Nezuko stiffened in surprise. Then, after a second, she returned the hug.
'Why do I feel so different and still like myself? I thought demons were supposed to be wild and hungry monsters.'
From the center of the room, a tall man stepped forward. His skin was pale as snow, and his dark hair shimmered faintly in the low light. He moved without sound, his hands folded neatly behind his back.
It was Muzan.
He watched Nezuko carefully, with a curious expression.
'I gave her more of my blood than usual,' he thought. 'That must be why she kept her sanity. She's better than I expected.'
Nezuko looked at him, her eyes clear and full of questions.
"Muzan-sama… did it work?"
He gave a slight nod. "Yes. You're a demon now."
Kei's eyes widened. "A demon…? Already?" She glanced at Nezuko, looking for signs of danger. "But… she's not attacking us. Isn't she hungry?"
"She's still adjusting," Muzan answered. "But she seems to be in control. That's rare for new demons. She's a special case."
Kei's lips trembled. "So… all the stories we've heard about demons—how they lose their minds and kill people…"
"They're stories," Muzan said softly. "Not all of them are true."
Nezuko looked at her mother again. She had expected some instinctive fear. Instead, Kei looked at her lovingly—worried, but not afraid.
'Even after seeing me like this… mom's still not scared of me.'
"Nezuko," Kei said quietly. "Maybe the stories really are wrong. Maybe demons aren't always monsters. I can feel it. You're still my daughter."
Nezuko nodded, her voice gentle. "I am."
There was silence between them. It was warm and strange, despite two demons sitting in the room.
Then Nezuko looked at Muzan and said softly, "We need to leave—Tanjiro and the others will come home soon."
She turned back to her mother. "I can't say goodbye to Tanjiro. He'll try to stop me."
Kei held Nezuko's hands tightly, tears shining in her eyes.
"Promise me you'll be safe?"
Nezuko smiled gently. "I promise. And someday, I'll come back to visit everyone."
Muzan was already waiting at the door. Nezuko walked to his side. Kei rushed forward one last time and hugged her.
"Serve him well, Nezuko," she whispered. "Be strong."
Nezuko nodded without a word and stepped out into the cold forest with Muzan.
The forest was quiet as they walked. Tall trees rose like towers around them. Mist floated through the trunks, and snow crunched softly underfoot.
The clouds still covered the sky. Without sunlight, the forest looked frozen in time.
Nezuko kept close to Muzan. Her footsteps were light but unsteady.
'I feel fast and strong, but my balance is weird—like my legs don't know how to move right yet.'
She stumbled once, catching herself.
Muzan casually walked ahead of her.
"This feeling," she said, watching her own hand flex, "It's strange. My body feels like it's on fire, but I'm not burning."
"You're still adapting," Muzan replied without looking back. "That fire is likely your blood demon art. In time, you'll learn to control it."
She nodded. "Yeah, I feel like me and not me. It's like some ability inside me is awake now."
Muzan gave a small smile but said nothing more.
Then, suddenly—he stopped.
Nezuko nearly bumped into him.
"What is it?" she asked.
Muzan didn't answer. He narrowed his eyes, staring into the trees ahead.
"…Demon Slayer."
A man stepped out from the mist, walking slowly but with purpose.
His haori was blue like a river. His sword was sheathed, but his hand rested lightly on the hilt. His eyes were calm and cold.
Giyu Tomioka.
Nezuko stopped breathing for a moment.
'So that's a Demon Slayer? He feels like calm pool of water, but there's a blade hidden inside.'
Giyu said nothing at first. His eyes moved from Muzan to Nezuko.
'Two demons walking together? That's strange. She's wobbling—newborn probably. But him… he's not like most demons I've fought.'
Finally, he spoke.
"You two. What are you doing here?"
Nezuko blinked. "What?"
"I guess it doesn't matter—you're both demons," Giyu said, his voice steady. He slowly pulled his blade free. "That means you're a threat."
Muzan raised a brow. "We're not looking for trouble, Hashira. We're just walking."
Giyu's eyes narrowed.
'What kind of demon talks like that? He's too calm and talks like a noble.'
Nezuko stepped forward carefully. "Please. We don't mean harm. I'm just traveling with Muzan-sama."
Giyu tilted his head slightly, his expression full of confusion.
'Muzan… sama? She speaks like a servant, not a monster. What's going on?'
"Don't try to explain," he said, raising his sword. "Demons don't get second chances."
He dashed forward without warning, blade glowing blue.
'He's aiming for Muzan-sama!'
Nezuko threw herself between them. The sword slashed across her chest. Pain exploded, but she didn't fall. She stood, trembling, as the wound began to heal.
Giyu's eyes widened. His steps slowed.
'She protected him? A demon protecting another demon?'
"Stay back!" Nezuko shouted. "I won't let you hurt him!"
Giyu's eyes narrowed even more.
'She's serious. That wasn't instinct. That was loyalty. This makes no sense.'
"Is he controlling you?" he asked, voice low.
"No," she said firmly. "I serve him because I chose to. Muzan-sama is my master."
Giyu's grip tightened.
'She's new but already so loyal. What kind of connection do they have?'
"You are no match for me. If you fight me again, then I won't hold back," he warned again.
Nezuko ignored the warning and ran at him. Her speed was impressive—but her claws were wild, and her attacks sloppy.
Giyu deflected her easily, then slammed the hilt of his sword into her side. She crashed into a tree with a gasp.
She got up again, angry but determined to fight the Demon Slayer. She was still bleeding yet rapidly healing.
'I have to protect Muzan-sama! I won't fail!'
She charged again, only to be knocked down into the snow, face-first.
"Why are you doing this?" Giyu asked, now more confused than angry. "Why protect him?"
"He's my lord!" she shouted, pushing herself up. "He's been kind to my family—we owe him a lot!"
Giyu paused. His brows furrowed deeply. His whole posture changed.
'She means it. She's not brainwashed. She truly respects him.'
Then—
"Enough," said a quiet voice.
Muzan appeared in front of Giyu like a shadow.
Before Giyu could move, Muzan caught his sword with one hand.
The blade didn't even shake.
Giyu's eyes shrank with shock.
'What—?'
Then—snap.
The blade cracked in two.
'He broke the Nichirin sword like it was nothing!'
Before Giyu could react, Muzan struck.
A punch to the gut. A backhand to the face. A kick that sent Giyu flying.
He landed hard, blood pouring out of his mouth.
'Too fast! I couldn't even see his hands move.'
Muzan stepped forward.
"You attacked without reason," he said. "Is that what Demon Slayers do?"
"You're demons," Giyu groaned. "You kill people—we kill demons."
"Did you see us kill anyone?" Muzan asked calmly. "No? Then don't judge too quickly."
Nezuko pulled herself upright, her legs shaking. She stared at Muzan.
'He protected me. So easily. He's so strong.'
Giyu reached for a small hidden blade—but Muzan grabbed him by the collar and leapt into the trees.
Then, like tossing away trash, he threw Giyu off the mountain cliff.
The Hashira vanished into the mist.
Nezuko gasped. "Is he dead…?"
"Who knows," Muzan said. "But he won't be bothering us now."
Nezuko finally collapsed to her knees. Her healing was slower now. Her body was sore all over.
"I wasn't good enough," she whispered. "I failed."
Muzan stepped beside her and placed a hand gently on her head.
"You were loyal. You acted with courage. You did well for your first fight."
Nezuko looked up at him and gave a small smile.
"Thank you, Muzan-sama."
Then together, they disappeared into the snowy forest, leaving behind the broken pieces of a blade and the half-dead Hashira far behind.
Snowflakes continued to fall gently.
Far below, Giyu lay half-buried in white snow, coughing blood onto the cold ground. His vision was blurred. His sword was shattered. His ribs were broken. But his mind was spinning.
'Muzan-sama… she called him Muzan.'
The name rumbled in his thoughts like a waterfall.
'Muzan… why does that name sound… familiar?'
As he was thinking, a voice called out to him—and it was close by.
"Hey! Are you hurt?!"
He turned his head weakly, just enough to see a boy with a burn mark on his forehead running toward him, eyes wide with panic and snow crunching under frantic steps.
It was Tanjiro.
Giyu blinked once, slowly.
'Maybe I won't die this time.'